big bother

more carmen electra aerobic striptease! now with fingertip biting!



okay, that's it. im buying this in the video store...

p.s. greetings, peoplesupporters...

baptism by fog

what: baguio or bust.
where: uh, baguio?
when: 26 - 28 may, 2007
who: layla (financier) & jai (freeloader)

please allow me to begin this chronicle by telling you how pissed off disappointed i am about my last salary. i worked my ass off through hours beyond my designated shift (well, okay, not as much as others did but it is still darn overtime) and what do i get in return? a few extra bucks... which went to taxes and other deductibles. how heartless. anyways, before that repulsive revelation came, i was able to apply for a saturday pto which i used to tag along with layla and finally take an immensely needed break in baguio city. i have been there several times before but this would be my first non-family trip there. layla on the other hand was a certified baguio virgin (although according to her dad, she was conceived there).

so, saturday morning, we got on the bus as chance passengers and spent the, give and take, five-hour ride talking, napping, taking pics, and trying not to watch the pinoy movie that was played. i actually noticed layla's excited smile grow bigger and bigger as we got closer, and when we finally arrived, she went child-like got-the-christmas-present-i-wanted, for the lack of a more suitable term, apeshit. a couple of taxis, some walking, and many fully-booked hotels later, we crashed in venus parkview hotel, the very place where layla was created. it rained quite a bit, by the way, so we stayed inside for a while, rested, and ate room service tinola for dinner. burp.


after testing how hot the shower water could get, we headed for the party spot as suggested by our baguio-native friends, an area called nevada square. the lissome layla wanted to dance, but the clubs were packed and the music didnt agree with her preference, so we settled with a small bar named caffeine addict, where a band was playing. with sliced frankfurters on the side, i downed a couple of san mig lights (no colt45, dammit) while layla had another first, a margarita. i left this joint with two things in mind: a) most, if not all, percussionists have a world of their own, and b) i really wanna learn how to play the sax. to be perfectly honest, there was a third thing playing around my head but thanks to the margarita, it came not into fruition. the moment layla hit the bed, the sandman caught her at once. cable tv, something i dont have in my apartment in boni, sent me to sleep some time later.


intermission: i hope i'm not the only one that thinks the cueshe song "borrowed time" is an absolute piece of crap. the chorus goes something like: oh it's good to be true if our hopes and dreams come true. wish that i could have more of this borrowed time. i hope it will last a lifetime. look at how they creatively rhymed the lines with the exact same word. talent my ass. not only do my ears hurt every time this shit starts blasting out the radio, my heart bleeds in pain for all the great poets and lyricists out there who torture themselves just to spew out some sensible stanzas. or sometimes they're just drunk or stoned, but at least they don't make you feel like, what the fuck, they get paid for songs like this?! my very sentiment about this particular song and band. anyways, now, back to our regular programming...

the next morning, we crossed the street to burnham park where layla biked while i ate chicharon. layla then did a bit of ukay-ukay shopping. we hurried back to venus for check out. we packed our stuff and bid our room goodbye and relocated to a nice building right next door, a place called ina mansion, which we should have picked in the first place because it was cheaper and in some ways better. there were two rooms available, i wanted room 13, layla wanted 39. since money makes the world spin, we took the room with the nicer view. it then rained hard and so we just rested for a while.


after being silly with fog breath, we had pizza at a place called pizza riccio, which was slightly tough to find. the whole time we munched there was nostalgic slow rock music playing. what ensnared my curiosity was this window:


it's an sos. note the bottles. now that is one fine piece of weirdness, kiddies. anyhoozle, layla did some ukay-ukay shopping next. she bought me new kicks as well. after that, we went to sm city baguio and watched pirates of the caribbean: at world's end, which we both enjoyed. we returned home tired and slept and dreaded the following day, our supposed last day in baguio.


monday was tourist day. first, we went to the strawberry farm. the time we spent there was a fraction of the time we spent getting there. we traveled back to civilization and layla bought ube jam from good shepherd. a quick walk and we were in mines view park and paid 20bucks just to get our picture taken with a huge st. bernard. layla also had a couple of pics with native duds on over her clothes. i wanted one as well and insisted that i wear nothing but the bahag. the old ladies who ran things said no. after a quick bite at a nearby karinderia, off we headed to camp john hay. we stayed the longest and took the most snapshots at the historical core that had the bell house, an amphitheater, a secret garden, and a quite friendly old geezer tour guide. after accomplishing a secret in the secret garden, we went home smiling. layla made her last minute purchases, we packed and bid baguio goodbye.


*as of this typing, me and her have called it quits. again. yeah, i know. i'm crazy/stupid. i thought i could work it out with her. but the she-devil felt otherwise and chose to tread the road to slutdom full-time. she is probably swapping dna with some other guy right now. define heartless.

that's it. im knackered. bleeding hearts of the world, unite!

oh, and happy fathers' day to all good dads out there, especially mine.

p.s. mr. wizard, the old dude who taught me, among other stuff, how to cut a sheet of paper in a manner that a person would fit into the resulting hole, has passed on to the big science lab in the sky. thank you, dear sir.
p.p.s. have you ever woken up from an evening nap, put on a shirt, left the house, ridden a near-full jeepney for 15 minutes, gotten off and walked half a mile in a crowded street to meet someone then realized that you've worn the shirt inside out?! no? well, i have.
p.p.p.s. thank you carmen electra for making feel better:

let there be light

i know, i know. i'm sorry for being such a lazy blogger. been really busy with stuff shit. i'm in the middle of an entry that should have been posted long ago, but i still aint done with it. so, just to keep the bytes biting, here is a picture of me and my death note:


bewareth, mine enemies...

SPIDER-MAN 3 by jaiskizzy

the gist: lotta stuff going on in this spiderific second sequel, true believers. things are doing peachy fine for our friendly neighborhood spidey. the people of new york that once despised him now worship our wall-crawling wonder, and his relationship with mary jane is swinging sky high and he wants to marry her. but of course, that aint gonna last in a film like this. i mean, what's a superhero movie without supervillains? enter the new goblin: harry osborn following his father's fiendish footsteps. enter sandman: (where's metallica anyway?) flint marko who takes on a life of crime to save his sick daughter and gains the power to become sand. enter venom: eddie brock, the new hostile host to the symbiote that our hero once owned (or owned our hero, i guess). peter parker's got his hands full this time, eh? will spider-man outwit, outlast, and outweb his way out of this outstandingly? will more alliterations appear again? 'nuff said. on with the review!

the reaction: i remember back in high school during a boring class drawing spider-man on a page of my notebook having six hands, the three on right clinging onto an invisible wall, the three on the left shooting web. what made this drawing stupid though is that all arms had the costume on them. that it would seem that peter parker had actually sewn up a costume accommodating all six of his arms. crazy. anyways, i don't think we'll be seeing a six-armed spidey in a movie any time soon. before, i also thought that my favorite spider-man villain, venom, wouldn't be showing up for a while, but when they announced a part three and that venom would be in it, i was so ecstatic that i would have reserved a ticket right then. i mean, seriously, folks, venom made spider-man 3 double cool and in a way he was the movie's saving grace (played by topher grace). don't get me wrong. i liked the movie. it's good and really not as bad as a lot of people say so. however, it hurts to type this, it's the least i like among the three. i have no idea what happened but sam raimi just failed to surpass his previous attempts. he merely gave us a spider-man movie. that's it. well, that is what everybody wants but of course, once you've upped the ante, you have to keep the ante up. and it doesnt necessarily mean having three villains. sure, it's a great challenge for spidey, but i honestly think that venom alone could have sufficed. they should have just left out the sandman plot entirely and gave the space to the venom.

well, okay, thomas haden church acted really well, so did the rest of them, especially tobey maguire, but i just felt like it could have worked better without him. the sandman effects weren't even that blow-away good. and they shouldn't have messed up uncle ben's death just to connect him more to peter. that's like the death of batman's parents or the explosion of planet krypton. we got it. we like it the way it is. move along. harry osborn's revenge arc was way better than that. the inclusion of gwen stacy is also well accepted since she played an integral part of peter's life issues in and out of the costume. bryce dallas howard's bubbliness cast quite a shadow over the always mediocre kirsten dunst. i'd be glad to see a different and better-looking actress play mary jane in the next sequels. i mean, come on, she's even named mary jane, for chrissakes. she's supposed to make you high.

okay, let's talk about venom again, beginning with the symbiote. i like how it just came from space with no explanation and coincidentally landing near peter and mary jane's makeshift make out motel. i like the cg on the symbiote. it looked like it was really real. i like the black costume despite not being totally black and having a white spider like in the comics. i like peter parker's emo mode. ive heard many gripes about this one, how it looked a bit goofy, what with peter pistol-fingering ladies on the street and doing a dance number a la the mask, but i completely understood what he was going through (i had recently gotten a haircut that lifted up my confidence a bit). i like eddie brock's plot. i like venom's design even though the slimy tongue was absent. i like how they used topher grace's unaltered voice when venom speaks. i just wish there was more venom. i'd have paid triple just for a longer, meaner one-on-one between spidey and venom. anyways, another thing that deserves praise about this movie are the sound effects. the punches, the metallic hits, and yeah, even sandman's sand sounds, awesome. and, of course, it would be a crime not to mention bruce campbell's hilarious cameo and the always funny j. jonah jameson. classic.

it maybe flawed and topsy-turvy, but i still loved it. the mere fact that the spider-man i used to only read in comics, draw on paper, and watch in cartoons continues to conquer cinemas causes me immense geeky happiness. i just hope that sam raimi or whoever will come on board in his place if ever does their homework on the next one. time for spider-man 4, baby!

the good: the cast (except for the dunst), the comedy, and venom.
the bad: sandman.
the ugly: two-face!
the verdict: 8 pumpkin bombs.


your friendless neighborhood spider-skiz.

tequila mockingbird

i implore you to consider my latest endeavor at poetry, conceived while on a jeepney, trying to make someone feel better with some hugging. i think it worked.

hug.

i feel
tears on my shirt
your cheek trembling.

what does my heart say?

your hair smells holy.

i see
the mole on your back
your shivering shoulder

my exit.

where's the pause button?

let's die like this.

anyways, here's my spider-man 3 review. go read it, tiger.

p.s. excuse me, but they're called rest days because one's supposed to rest on those days and not work one bit. i already gave you five for the week. let me keep the remaining two in peace. darn you.
p.p.s. i recently had a haircut. people say i look like im still a virgin.

ouch potato

yes, sir/ma'am. that right there is a pair of gateway globe platinum cinema tickets to the spectaculicious spider-man 3 movie showing on may 1. that's labor day to many, but to me, that's venom day. about time for that villain to do some arachno-ass kicking. again, ive passed on the chance to watch it in sm mall of asia's imax theater. too many people in there. and i aint gonna allow some noisy little brats ruin the experience. call it crazy, say it's too much, i don't give a noodle. it's spider-man. my favorite comic book character ever. it has to be perfect. there's just absolutely no other way to watch it. lazy boy seats. unlimited popcorn and drinks. superb technology. great atmosphere. and a companion who understands all of this. once more, it's spider-man 3, true believers. i demand nothing less.

i've typed quite a paragraph about the following topic but it sounded more perverse than i intended so i scrapped it and decided to just say my side of things in one sentence: girls, the butt cleavage ain't sexy.

sorry but that's it for today. i gotta go. see you around. (and i meant it)

p.s. for anyone who ever wondered what the previous post's title oobu joobu meant, it's the name of a radio show that paul mccartney created years ago. i picked it up during online research at work and it just kept repeating in my head afterwards. oobu joobu. oobu joobu. oobu joobu. i have no idea what it means.
p.p.s. hello, patty-cake! it was nice seeing you and talking to you.

oobu joobu

fellow countrymen, in the spirit of nationalism during this upcoming election period, i shall be talking about politics.

not! fuck that crap.

so... anyways, just when i thought that my life's gonna flatline soon, someone special came in and defibbed me. come to think of it, last year, when i first met jarjar (her name's jarvik, but she's jarjar binks to me), doing some freelance editing for arkeo, with her she as my p.a., she also lit up that dull job. i barely talked to anyone there then, but when she appeared, she got me to speak up. it's all her, by the way. that's just the way she is. she's the angel of friendship. and then i bumped into her again on my way to watch 300 about a month ago. soon enough, i got her to spend a lil time with me and catch a movie last sunday. it was a week of hell for me, that climaxed with a mirror-punching event on saturday, but when sunday arrived, jarjar smoothed everything out. we went to greenbelt and i wanted her to see 300, but she wanted one that we both haven't seen so we settled on happily never after. if i had watched that cgi flick by myself then, it would probably be the first movie i ever walked out of. it's not that bad, just not good enough. there were some funny parts though. however, in the presence of the ever-cheerful girl, i kinda felt like my problems left me for a while and allowed me to just enjoy her company. so the movie was hilarious, and i laughed at even the corny parts (although at one point, she pointed out something funny that i didn't laugh at). so, anyway, it was a great way to end a sour week thanky plenty to dear jarvik, who, as an exact opposite of me, always smiled and never shut up. may the fates bequeath me more moments with her.

ok. wait. hang on a bit. i gotta watch a south park episode, the season 2 finale of prison break, and this movie is not yet rated...

here come talkbacks:

katia: thanks. had to find a shoutbox that didn't have popups that carried viruses and stumbled upon this neato one. thanks for visiting!

jarvik: i miss you.

michi: you were right, michi. i did pull through! thanks, angel tongue! and may all your weekends and weekdays be awesome as well. take care.

cheska: misa!!! do you look like her or is it just a fantasy thing? anyways, great movie huh? i know where they're selling death note notebooks! im not telling! wehe.

renz/renzy_benzy/charlie wonka jr: i will. always a pleasure to provide free advertisement services to fellow bloggers. thanks for the hop, dude.

red_pl8: pms-ing?! well, anyways, the storm has passed and ive found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. there is a leprechaun claiming ownership of it though (how do i come up with these analogies?). keep an eye out for grindhouse, red.

patty: please swear that you'll never hurt yourself again. ive been there many, many times and nothing good comes out of it. it's understandable to want it, or even need it, but it is foolish to succumb to it. stay cool, dude. thanks for dropping by as well.

and there it goes. one more blog post to sit here for a long while, until i find time to do the next one. as always...

the gospel according to skizzy. praise be to einstein.

p.s. seems like tragedy surrounds me. blue's mom just died last week. she's been suffering a lot the past few months, she had water in her lungs, and so in a way, her passing was for the best. i actually envy her for she has escaped this cruel world. condolences to blue and his family. and then there's ebib (another gma friend) who had an ectopic pregnancy. as a complete moron with this stuff, i cant explain what exactly happened. but she should have had twins. it was a choice between her or the babies. condolences to ebib and linus.
p.p.s. i mean, really, why do bad things happen to good people?