Tuesday, September 15, 2009


Well… well… well… there you are my beautiful, pretty, gregarious, loving and cute pupils of mine I hope you still remember me… well welcome back to me. My apologies little devels, I been away for a while to find myself in the desert but I didn’t found it, instead I found L-O-V-E... Gush I’m blushing. But that’s not our topic for today we’ll just talk about that sometimes in the future. Anyway how’s my darling pupils. I miss everyone and I’m hoping you missed me too… I gain weight like 35 grams hmmmm correction not kilo.

The past month had been so awful for me, I am ambidextrous (yeah I made the spelling right… whatever!) for weeks working like hell; even my Saturdays and Sundays were consummated by the office that feeds me, aside the fact that I needed to constantly check on my facebook for reasons I don’t know…(Must be the gossips.) For a month I made like 25 storyboards and photoboards for different clients and to please our new award winning creative director who I think is very good and nice but kinda crazy with his perfectionism… come hell or high water my world is changing... changing… and changing… I barely have time to write in this famous blog of mine. I like my new boss and hate his extremeness. I can see myself in him when I’m going old.

Some months really last longer than others, this month might be the same. I miss writing my craziness in this crazy world. I like to work hard and I like hard work but I felt trapped lately in a pattern of busyness. Even my horoscope ask me if I’m happy with what I’m doing, it even ask me if I still feel a thing? Huh… how daring that thing told me as if it’s my conscience. Lately I’ve been talking to God and he told me to LISTEN… its’ his turn to say something to me… He said that I always complain and ask him a lot of things but don’t bother to listen to him… and wondered what’s he’s going to say to me anyway… well anyway I remain silent in hope that I might hear him when I take my ride to the office. In short, I’ve been behave recently except for some occasional outburst when the people in the office gather and harvest their farms in facebook, it’s making the internet traffic slow and I cannot download pictures I needed for a design I’m making. I go around and make yawyaw all over the office about that online farming where they wasted their time instead of doing it in real life, which by the way makes me excited the fact that I’m almost finished paying the land that I’m installing… I can’t wait to have my real Farmville. Well… the boss heard my plea and passed an announcement around the office to stop doing that online game…. And they stopped; for a day I guess.

Anyways, Miss Frida is like an alarm clock ticking for the past week, He’s going for a month long vacation to our beloved Philippines. I’m happy for him I hope he’s happy for me too. The Filipino mafia decided to throw him a send off thing. So we perfectly planned an al fresco breakfast at “Open Wine” behind the Royal Palace last Saturday in which I came late. The Saturday that was, is ultra beautiful as in fucking beautiful. We started the day with so much bread. The bagel is good it’s not hard as it used to be and the toasted white bread is perfect with the strawberry jam that looks like “bagoong” but tasted like heaven (I always love strawberry jam next to peanut butter). Then comes the egg omelet and the bacon which is kinda good but I always love the processed bacon it’s tastier because of the thing we called monosodium glutamate or “vetsiness”. The coffee is very strong and bitter… I think it’s the blackest coffee there is in the whole wide world ever, it took me 6 sugar cubes to make it sweet. Then comes the big hornet that hovers on our breakfast and I advised everyone not to panicked and just be still. True enough the hornet hovers over Miss Grace’s plate and picks up a crumb of egg omelet and fly away and come back for more when we paid our bills. Honestly the breakfast is not that perfect but of course it was fun. Maybe it’s 5 out of 10 in my score board.

Then we went to Mother Helen to buy our usual weekend market, I don’t remember but I think a bought a lot of stuff. Its good thing Mr. Kino was there he brought the stuff home for me… what a sweet man he is… sigh. Miss Earth, Miss Deborah and me accompanied Miss Frida to the Russian Market to buy stuff he needed to bring for his friends and family back home. Thanks god for Russian market, we went to a scarve’s shop and shopped to death virtually everything. The scarves are beautiful, different colors, textures and colors… colors… colors… everything is so beautiful… so gay... I love it… and the bags yeah… the bags. All the beautiful stuffs made Miss Frida’s wallet green. Then we moved to another stall where they sell statues and bust of Buddha and stuffs. Surprisingly Miss Earth suddenly decided to buy a medium sized Buddha which is quite heavy and two busts as an early Christmas gift she planned to give to someone.

It took us almost an hour just by that area before we decided to take a juice break at Cambodia’s best orange juice ever. Amazingly it’s real, the juice is very good. Then we continued the shopping as Miss Frida proceeded to buy stuff for men but I declined to choose for him as I might buy stuff that I would regret later on… in short I don’t have cash. Instead I went to the sunglasses area with Miss Deborah and I bought two fabulous sunglasses to appease my insatiable cravings for beautiful things. I have a very butch Nike copper slit dragonfly sunglasses and a cheap pink tinted glass with black frame sunglasses which I planned wearing to annoy everyone in the office. Miss Deborah also bought some and a pair of pants I think and that’s it we went home to rest for the big night coming that evening.

I went home and slept for an hour after I chatted with Mr. Kino. I woke up like 3:30 pm and decided to make a spring roll… I’m not that very energetic you know, don’t you think? So I chopped and cooked and wrapped everything in pastry wrapper to make a spring roll but I get tired suddenly knowing that I should be in my best form for the big night that’s ticking in 2 hours. Luckily the sweet Mr. Kino helped me; in the beginning he does not know how to wrap a spring roll. The first one he made is fucking ugly it looks very different from my nicely wrapped rolls. Like a scene from a movie I taught him how to wrap the spring rolls which astonishingly he learned fast. So I leave him there as I planned what to wear for the night… and I found my all-time favorite grey skimpy shorts and a black v-cut t-shirt with three decorative searchlight buttons. And that’s it --- one more cigarette and I’m off to the bathroom. I smell like spring rolls.

I was on my way to take a shower when my mobile phone vibrated before it alarms notifying me of an incoming message. “See you at Parkway third floor 8:00 pm and don’t forget to bring socks.” It was from Miss Frida. It took me an hour preparing as I donned myself in that 80’s garb reminiscent of Jaworski’s short shorts era. I brought with me my classic jeans tote bag to put on my socks and a boxful of freshly cooked spring rolls that Mr. Kino sweetly packed for me and off I go. I arrived at Parkway exactly 8:00 pm and hopped into the lift and pushed on the third floor button only to find that the third floor of the building is offices and there was an old guard who look at me strangely, afraid I went back to the elevator and pushed the button to ground floor and went to the back area of the building and found the stairs and climb till the third floor--- there I found the big entrance of “Bowling Alley”. Yeheey were going bowling.

Everyone is there and we played the night away till 11:00 in the evening. It was fucking hilarious and fun as in F-U-N fun. I love it. I made three strikes and scored high on the first game, of course it’s all about me. I remember my days on The Library Foundation when all the homosexuals strutted their stuff on the bowling alley and strike a pose every time one makes a strike or something. Bowling is Fun. Miss Frida plays good and posed perfectly as well. Miss Earth is also good but didn’t make much because her nails are freshly manicured. Mr. Magno is very good and trying hard. Miss Grace always followed the arrows and manages to hit a couple of strikes. Miss Arwen is so fragile like a rabbit and of course Miss Deborah is perfect with his split every time he makes a hit. The night went too fast when everyone is having fun and that’s how we ended our Saturday happily.

And with that my beautiful pupils I’m going to teach you how to bowl and strike a pose.
Okay butchers (pa-men na badette) and macho gays at the back get your pen and paper and copy everything from the board.

How to strike a pose

Of course, before you can do that one has to have a ball - a bowling ball and a bowling alley. Also you need powder to help you keep a ball and of course a pair of beautiful bowling shoes with socks.

Observe… of course you don’t want to look like a first timer, nobody likes a virgin nowadays. When you sit by the bowling alley observe the other bowlers as they do their thing and don’t get nervous or intimidated if they play well, they all started with shit as well.

Notice… Now notice where the balls come out, that’s where you get the balls. Then look at the center that’s where you pose and throw the ball but don’t cross on the line that leads to the alley it’s the “foul line”, if you cross that line you won’t get points. Now notice that arrow like thing or sometimes it’s a round dark markings on the floor in the alleyway, that’s where you supposedly aim the ball when you need to hit some sparse pins. Now look further and you will see your aim --- the white standing pins that look like white penguins.

Choose… Choose or pick up the ball according to the weight you can carry. 14 lbs is the weight for beginners which everyone can carry well. Then as you progress you can pick the heavier ones like the 15 lbs to 16 lbs… No not that balls faggots at the back. There are three holes in the ball now figure out how to put your fingers. Its basic you know dummies.

Compose… Okay here’s the part I love, Compose yourself and try to be calm, don’t mind the people looking at you. Just be calm and take a deep breath as you hold that ball… like you know “when you hold the real thing”… Try making it three deep breaths, relax and concentrate. And never ever let the ball fall on your feet… there’s a thing we called injury… ouch.

Step… now take your first step. Use your left foot when you first step towards the alley, even if you are left handed or right handed always start using your left foot. Starting with the right foot has high probability to throw you off balance. I’m sure that faggots at the back know how to do it even in stiletto.

Let Go… Now as you continue to go forward, try to keep your shoulders parallel to the foul line. Swing the ball back and then forward perpendicular to the foul line and let go – release the ball. Look!!! You missed it… the ball is traversing the canal… that’s okay you’re just a beginner anyway.

Pose… No matter what, just try to make the most beautiful pose you can possibly do and make anyway in the end it’s all about F-U-N fun.

Now that you just let go of the first ball, don’t be angry if the ball drops in the canal chances are you’re never going to get a good amount of pins the next time you throw the ball if you are agitated. Practice is the answer to that; it takes four months of practice to make your strikes perfect and your poses are ultra perfect by then.

Okay that’s it my little devels… Now go and get your most fabulous shoes ever and strike a pose.

God teaching is such a noble work and I’m ultra fucking beautiful sigh.

Thursday, July 30, 2009


Well… well… well… there you are my beautiful and sweet pupils of mine. Well… I know you miss me… and I miss everyone also. I was away for a while because I was sad that I killed Miguelita. huhuhuhu...

Well as what they say any idiot can play Greek for a day and make a blog and write about his tragedy and articulate all his pain and thought he’ll get paid one day… well I tell you darlings it’s a sin if success complains and your writer’s block don’t mean a shit, just throw everything at the wall and let’s see what sticks. I’m not a writer or a trying hard, eager beaver sophomore but an eloquent and passionate person who writes my thoughts no matter if people don’t understand me… and I don’t care. As a talkative person writing my stories in word form makes me understand why writers are like that… yeah you know… moody or temperamental, I understand them now. It’s painful to kill a character you built up and learn to love. And one more thing, I learned the more you make a story complicated the more it’s difficult to end… but nevertheless I learned something and promised to make my stories much shorter but precise and that I wonder how to do it. Well anyway…

Today I wake up wondering if I just get marry a Japanese. I missed my boyfriend so much… It’s our eight year anniversary today… you see long distance love affair only works for a short time but if you’re counting in years its different… that is why we agreed to be in an open relationship… but I don’t care what you think for us sex is just sex… we been together for long a time that we’ve reach to that level when you longed to be individual again. What is that song by “Noel Cabangon” were he is singing about a crossroad… well I forget again but that exactly what it feels like… no not the “Pana-panahon” thing.

I remember how an ex-friend once tried to ruin that relationship by sending emails to him telling him what I’ve done here in the lonely Kingdom of Cambodia; How I picked up men and pay them with shoes or slippers… and how he buy me a man for a night… He even came to great lengths of printing everything and let everyone read about me and my boyfriend’s bedroom secret. How I smoked jutes like hell and a lot of stuff. Let alone reading it to everyone he knows. Of course I learned all about this from my boyfriend who forwarded all his emails to me and from common friends that have cut ties with that ex-friend. Gush talking about “The Atonement”… I felt like Kiera Knightly or more you say Cate Blanchet in “Notes to a Scandal”.

There was a moment that I sent an apology letter to that ex-friend of mine which of course he never replied. A reply came back years later only to warn me about “another friend that broken ties with him” which of course is not a surprise. I guess I’m growing older now so I kept that letter and let it read to that “friend who cut ties with that ex-friend”. Much as I want to forget everything and move on, that letter reminds me of how I’ve been wronged… so I decided to burn it, forgive myself and leave everything in the past now… Everything is so Highschool… forget… forget… forget…

Yeah… don’t ask me how he got to know my password blame it on my forgetfulness or more you say “Doriness” --- Ellen’s character in “Finding Nemo” because as much as he claims that I forgot to log-out from his computer, I remember now because I give my password to him. But still that doesn’t give him authority to open my emails because I never did that to him…

Since I moved out from my exfriend’s house three years ago I went to focus on work, no one ever heard what’s going on with me for a whole year… not a word was spoken. And people thought I already left for home. Not even in the internet as I’ve closed all my net accounts… this explains why I closed my “friendster” account, closed my account in hi5 and never bother to open “facebook” or “tagged” for fear that something bad might happened to them. As I was so traumatized when I found out that the “other friend who cut ties with the ex-friend” friendster account was hacked and all of his pictures were gone and replaced by a naked picture of a Korean man. Of course we don’t know who made it to him. Luckily that friend of mine doesn’t care about it and moves on... that happened a year ago. I’m afraid to tell all of you that I’m not afraid anymore… I’m numb already and now I decided to open a “facebook” for the first time since time immoral or whatever… you know what I mean I just don’t know the spelling.

In reality all my friends called me a hypocrite when I vowed to myself not to have “facebook” since my face is everywhere anyway in that social networking world, I admit it is true as I’m always been honest with myself which sometimes made me make selfish decisions. Since that experience from the ex-friend of “invading one’s privacy”--- I decided to shut my social networking and just go for blogging the only means I can think of to connect with my old friends. But receiving an email from facebook everyday and looking at my old friends knocking on me as if begging me to open an account I finally give in.

And yeah facebook is addicting… knowing me, knowing you… addict. Since I replied to one of my bestest friend ever “Elnoring” in facebook everyone from my past and present flooded my yahoo mail. From old enemies to old friends to new enemies to new friends, it is like I’m going to die the next day because everyone is there. And that’s it… It changed my working pattern and my blogging pattern. But I know this is just a passing thing since I’m new to facebook but once I pass that boredom stage… My life would be normal again.

Okay gaylits from the back… listen… I know you all have facebook already so don’t bother to listen to me… it’s okay I’m kind’a generous today… okay here we go get your pen and copy everything from the board.

How to face the book

Step1… Click on the link to that whoever invited you in your e-mail to be on facebook.

Step 2… When inside the network facebook will guide you accordingly on how to do it and what to do.

Step 3… There you go easily… Now you get to put on your profile and every chu-chu you want to say about yourself.

Step 4… Because its facebook… put on your bestest picture you ever had. It’s like Vanity Fair… and forgive me I’m beautiful and so are my pictures.

Step 5… Now the network will ask you if want to add or search for friends --- then do that. As for me since I’m quite popular everyone wants to be invited even my unfriends. Actually this is the best part because you have the power to ignore… literally the people you don’t like.

Step 6… Now the network will ask you about your thoughts… feelings or emotions then put it… As for me as I’m always sweetly honest, I put on everything I felt even the condition of my coffee maker and my hormonal patterns… everything… and I’m surprised people actually reacted to my thoughts like consciences… strange but fun… I love it.

Step 7… You can also put on some links if you want, as I’m new I’m still at the level of welcoming all the friends that want to be added… taray di ba.

Step 8… There are gangsters, hilly billies from the Farmville and sometimes lost cows.
It’s up to you if you want to join them. But because I’m new I did’nt get involve yet.

Step 9… Put this email address in the search engine on facebook ---
sibinandez@yahoo.com and I will add you but that depends of who you are…

Step 10… Enjoy…

There you are my little angels… mwahhh… mwahhh… mwahhhh…

Tuesday, July 21, 2009


How to tell a story series

The vodka though strong is sweet and heady like Miguelita’s loneliness. Matt poured more of the vodka and add tonic to Miguelita’s glass. The conversation becomes more bold and dangerous… Miguelita not his usual self become more loquacious and Matt more loudly. Something with alcohol really makes people feel good about themselves or at least makes you forget for a brief moment the loneliness of living.

Hahahahaha… How could you be so mean going around and breaking everyone’s heart you dirty young man… Miguelita replied loudly to Matt who looks proud and red with the alcohol.

Well… what can I do… I’m blessed with 3G … He replied as he puts on his hand under his chin and stared longingly at Miguelita.

What’s 3G? Miguelita asked the young nurse as he sips on the bluish mixture of alcohol.

Oh it’s God’s Given Gift… Matt replied and sucks in his breath to make his chest bigger.

Hahahahahahahaha… The drunk and flirty --- Miguelita laugh.

IF LOVE IS BLIND… I’D FIND MY WAY WITH YOU… CAUSE I CAN’T SEE MYSELF… NOW I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU… Nene tries to mimic Tifanny on the karaoke and declared to his audience that he don’t like finishing it. And he wondered why the people left… He glances around to see the guest saying goodbyes to Boyet. Then he looks on to his list of songs he reserved on the “Magic Sing”.

Goodbye and thank you Nene… It’s a wonderful night though we love to sing too… but it’s your 30th song and we are bored… goodbye… Nene’s unknown bitch friend sarcastically say goodbye to him.

The loud coffee shop a while ago is now quite, except for some smirk, and occasional laugh from the dark corners for dark deeds. The gamblers are on their last league of their bets… the alcohols are consumed, the food feasted and vomited already by the guest. After that brief moment of revelry the coffee shop once again become silent watching the remaining guest, Matt and Miguelita in the corner with another bottle of vodka. Nene is laughing beside Boyet like a guest relation officer. Silent as it seems the coffee shop is the only witness to everything that happened to the resident gays and their lonely existence. The birthday party is successful.

The morning sun glares at the side mirror of Cirilo’s car. He put on his sun glasses and continues to drive, He’s been driving for hours now since he left the city early in the morning. It would be another more hour to reach the town. He pushed the button on the car’s player and “Secret Garden” by Bruce Springsteen played. He glances at the bouquet of roses and a box in a pink wrapper with gold ribbons, beside the teddy bear his son left on his car. A smile escapes from his lips as he remembers the hot red thong he bought for himself to surprise Miguelita. Guiltily he tried to erase from his mind how he misses their past anniversaries.

“You’ve gone a million miles… how far’d you get… to that place you can’t remember…
And you can’t forget”…
Bruce Springteen’s sadly continues his song on the car’s player.

The familiar spike of the town’s chapel can be seen now as Cirilo swiftly swerve a curve that would leads to the sleepy town. He parks his car in front of the coffee shop. He dislodges his baggage from the car and quickly snatches the flowers and the gift and wonders why the coffee shop is still closed. It’s already 10 in the morning and the chaos of last night’s affair was still unattended. He didn’t mind it as he opens the gate that leads to Migulita’s house at the back of the coffee shop.

The house is quite as he creeps at the back of the house. Strangely Miguelita is still sleeping which he is not usually because he always wakes up early. He quietly opens the back door and put his bag and stuffs by the kitchen’s table. He washes his hand and looks himself at the mirror then he opens the bag and gets a small black box, he then opens the box and smiles at the glittery red sequenced thong and a red bow tie. Then he shed his clothing off and he slaps his ligamental manhood to make it a little bit erect before he puts on the skimpy outfit and muffled a laugh a he watch himself at the mirror by the kitchen. He adjusted the red bow tie and casually brushes his hair by his hand. He reached for the bouquet and the pink box then he practices his pose in presenting himself to his gay lover.

He creeps quietly on the bedroom and open the door slightly enough for him to see Miguelita’s face sleeping like beauty in the fairy tales. Cirilo smiles as he proceeds to open the door completely… THADA!!!

He drops the flower and the box with a loud thud…

Sleeping and embracing on Miguelita’s thigh is a man he doesn’t know…

The colors of the morning suddenly change as if dark clouds are covering the sun… Cirilo’s face becomes red; red like the thong he’s wearing. Miguelita hearing the thud of the box wakes up. As if torched by fire all the alcohol in his body evaporated and he sprang from his deep slumber and looks at Cirilo. No words come out from his mouth he pushes Matt with his feet that topples the young nurse out of bed. Cirilo ran to the young nurse who still groggy from alcohol and punched him hard again and again. Miguelita covers his eyes as he cried.

Like a long tracking shot in muted silence… the scene that follows includes a boxing match of Cirilo and Matt… of course Matt fled in defeat. Miguelita in the corner begging forgiveness from the man he adores. Cirilo who cannot afford to hurt Miguelita pack his bag and put in his clothing. He went out as Miguelita sobbing for forgiveness like a child who just lost his mother. He clutches to Cirilo’s legs and hold on to it like the earth is opening to gobble him up. Cirilo firm but defeated continued to walk and slams the door to prevent Miguelita from following him, he walks faster in the driveway. Miguelita covered in bed sheet ran after him. Cirilo slams the car and drive … Miguelita continues to run crying. Cirilo drives… tears is building on his eyes as he see Miguelita running after him on the rear view mirror but still he continues to drive… Miguelita finally cannot catch up with the car and he falls on his knees and cried forgetting that he’s naked. Like the world has stop and the wind makes everything in slow motion.... Miguelita cried and cried… oblivious to the people that look at him like watching a soap opera… they laughed and grinned.

From a not so distant in the highway’s corner Cirilo stops the car and finally he cried.

Months passed…

Hey friend… here you drink this soup it’s good for you… Nene asked Miguelita lovingly to eat.

Miguelita with bulging dark eyes stared at Nene and blankly tears falls down. His eyes are like a dying ember, not a glow of his previous happiness is gone. Like a lonesome vanquished queen our heroine stares blankly to Nene. There were no words to say. No explanation needed. No comforting gesture can ease the emptiness. He is very exhausted. His journey finally ends. The passion is finally consummated. He doesn’t feel like living anymore. Selfish as it seems friends cannot help us when we lose something so dearly to us. Miguelita with knowing abandon knows that it’s the end. He continued to stare at Nene as tears flow out of his eyes. The house itself and the coffee shop suddenly became drab as if life is drained out of it. The pigments crack and lose its brilliance knowing that their owner has losing its will to live.

It was the morning of Friday when Nene and Boyet visits Miguelita’s house. He’s so worried now it’s been six months that Miguelita didn’t work and never went out. He already called to Cirilo a lot of times, he even wrote letters but all in vain. He knows that there’s nothing he could do about it. So he and Boyet went to Miguelita’s house to check on him. The house is dirty; the once lively house is dead. The spirit of the house is tired. They went to Miguelita’s bedroom; it is dark. All the curtains and windows are closed except the bathroom’s door where a split of light comes out. Dust seeps trough the light making strange swirls in the air. Nene called on to Miguelita thinking his in the bathroom. Boyet proceeded to open the curtains and the windows; a draft of strong wind suddenly blows hard as if a giant is exhaling when Boyet opens the windows. The sunlight brightens Miguelita’s room. Nene hurried to the bathroom and found no one but a spider busy making her web by the bathroom’s small window. He went out again and looks at Boyet who was staring at Miguelita’s bed. Nene looks at the bed. The bed looks wet as if a gallon of slimy glue is splashed on it and the middle of it is a strange device that they never saw before. (Of course it’s a coffee maker) On the device is a note in Miguelita’s hand writing. Nene picks it up and tears fall on his left check.

No one knows where Miguelita went. He just disappears as if the house eats him. They asked a lot of people but the people didn’t bother. Only Nene and Boyet remember Miguelita whom they made a small mound as symbol of his disappearance.

Sunday late morning at Franco’s residence a knock echoed through the hallway. The wife shouted to the husband. Hon… Hon… Hon… please the door… I’m cooking. In the living room Cirilo bends and stand up as he touches his young sons head to excuse himself putting the tower on the black tile on the chess board. They were playing chess two against one.

Coming… Cirilo shouts to who it might be by the doorway.

He opens the door. Nene and Boyet are standing there with poker face. Nene is holding a box and gives the box to Cirilo. Cirilo smiles to the couple… though he wants to invite the two inside; Nene just smirked at him, takes the hand of Boyet and they go away. Cirilo looks at them quizzically… then he looks at the box. There was a small note… “from Miguelita.” He looks at his back if his wife is somewhere, knowing that she’s busy He hurriedly went upstairs to his study room and opens the box quickly. There he found the coffee maker and the note. He reads the note and sobs…

Hey dad… why are you crying? His son asked him.

Surprised he instantly suppressed his sobs and pretended that a dust caught in his eyes and he stands up put the note on the box carefully and urges the kids to come with him and they will continue playing.

The note reads'...

I love you...

I will always be your coffee maker...


Monday, July 20, 2009


How to tell a story series

Wahhhhhhh…. Wahhhhhhh…. Wahhhhhhh… Wails Nene as he continues to sip his coffee and occasionally wipe his bulging eyes that are shedding tears for hours now.

For the millionth times Ramonito… tell me what’s wrong with you… Miguelita calls Nene by his real name as he produces more paper tissue which he gives to the wailing homosexual.

Wahhhhhhh… Wahhhhhhhh… Wahhhhhhh… huhuhuhuhu… Continues the anguished, Nene.

Okay, I give up… up to you… I will close the coffee shop now… it’s getting late…. Miguelita bends to stand up gesturing to leave his best friend who smells like gin.

Matt… wahhhhhh… Matttttt… huhuhuhuhu… he basted me… I thought he likes me… he even showers me with chocolates and flowers, he even picks me up at my shop… He even calls me during the night asking me how to cook “Binagoong pork”and many stuff about you and Cirilo… huhuhuhu… I hate Matt… you just don’t know how I made lots of nurse uniform for him for free, it cost me a lot… huhuhuhu… Even his new white shoes I bought it for him… The sad Nene complained about Matt the young nurse.

Miguelita went back to his chair and put his arms at which Nene shakes it off from his shoulder…. And continues to wail….

Wahhhhhhhh… and you… I hate you too…. Wahhhhhhh…. Nene accuses Miguelita.

And what about me… what did I do? Miguelita asked the wailing best friend.

Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh… He likes you more than me, why? I’m also beautiful right…. Why he likes you…. huhuhuhu… Now I know why he befriended me… he wants to be closer to you… huhuhu… why are you beautiful? huhuhu… Nene sobs like a baby.

Miguelita kindly embraces his best friend and explained… Okay… hush darling, it’s not my fault that he likes me… yeah you’re right I’m beautiful but I don’t like him. He’s way too young for my taste and besides I love Cirilo more than anyone else in the world… Hush now… you’ll be okay… okay… Give me a smile… friend… Miguelita hushed the sobbing homosexual.

Nene didn’t replied but just cried on Miguelita’s shoulder rocking him gently, and the two of them stopped when they hear a knock on the coffee shops’ half closed doors it was “Boyet” the hospital janitor.

Hey… lucky me… you’re still open… Boyet told Miguelita and was surprise to see Nene crying. He then quickly comes next to the two gays.

Hey… what happened? Boyet asked Miguelita and Nene wails again… and repeated the whole narration to Boyet as he cried over a new mug of coffee… Miguelita left the couple and continues to clean the coffee shop occasionally glancing at Nene and Boyet .

Weeks later Nene and Boyet became a regular at the coffee shop cavorting like Boyet and Nora during their heydays. Miguelita is happy to see his best friend rebounds. At least he could go on missing his Cirilo who is on his fifth month now with his family. He worries and wondered if his okay… but he knows deep inside that Cirilo is happy with the kids and wished he had a uterus.

The life of the homosexuals in the coffee shop goes on happily despite Miguelita’s waiting for Cirilo.

One day Nene declared excitedly to Miguelita that Boyet’s birthday is coming on the 3rd day and that they should celebrate in his coffee shop and that Miguelita should cook for them and that it would be an exclusive party, and that he would invite Matt to make him jealous of Boyet, and that and so on… Miguelita agreed out of loneliness hoping Cirilo could join them, he text him and no reply, he called to him to no avail… and secretly wished that his okay and hope that he remembers that it’s their anniversary as well.

The coffee shop looks like a carnival. Balloons and fancy flowers made of crepe papers adorned the gay shop. Miguelita is busy putting food on the buffet table as Nene grilled the barbeque and hotdogs. He excitedly affixed everything he grilled on a pineapple. He goes around the coffee shop electrifyingly as if he is the birthday celebrant.

Gush, Hurry up Miguelita… Boyet will be here in a minute. Nene ordered Miguelita hurriedly who looks at him in disgust.

Gush Miguelita… I know it’s your coffee shop I don’t have time with that kind of look of yours… I have to call on Shirley the hairdresser, he promised me to lend his video camera, and all my friends from the beauty shop and the barbers in the corner would be here in a minute too… I have to call to Maricel to be sure that Matt will come…and the “Magic Sing” gush before I forget Boyet love to sing… The homosexual ran to the phone and mumbles incoherently, Miguelita didn’t mind him but continues to do his thing, putting finishing touches on the array of foods on the buffet table.

Ayyyyyyy… God… You’re so beautiful… Nene shouted fakely at the guest as he kisses each one.

God thanks for the gifts, Boyet is on his way now… please take your sit. As he glides his way among the guest wondering where Boyet is.

Miguelita on the other hand just smiled in amusement watching his best friend. But deep inside him he misses Cirilo, he smile poignantly to everyone but that doesn’t feel like it as he felt so lonely. It’s the 6th month now that he celebrated their anniversary alone. He started to pour in some Vodka and tonic which one of the guests bought. He positioned himself by the corner silently sipping his drink as he watch the revelry.

The strange crowd sang in unison as Boyet comes in to the party together with his entourage of macho men from the hospital… of course that includes the embalmers, guards, cooks and other staffs even the baranggay tanod is there.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY… HAPPY BIRTHDAY… TO YOU… the crowd clapped as they finishes the song and Boyet blows the candles that Nene is holding so proudly as if she is the luckiest gay in the whole wide world ever…

And the party started, people start to sing karaoke, some men put on their cards and bets. The group from the beauty shop preens as they tried to catch the attention of the men from the hospital. Every one is gay and happy. And everything looks like someone is going to be buried the next day.

Miguelita smiled alone at the corner listening to the gays singing. When suddenly he felt a hand tapping on his shoulder and he looks in surprise that it’s Matt who is also drinking Vodka tonic.

Hi… you look so lonely here… why you’re not joining them. Matt speaks to him bravely.

Oh… I guess I’m just tired… I cooked the whole day you know… Miguelita smiles at him casually.

Hmmm… It’s so sweet of you cooking for your best friend? The young man told him in appreciation.

Yeah… he’s my family… The gay replied like a girl.

I’m just another woman in love, a kid out of school, a fire out of control… just another fool… touch me and I’m weak… lalalalala… Nene is singing Maureen Mcgovern’s “Just Another Woman in Love” in the karaoke.

Matt brought the whole bottle of Vodka and sits beside Miguelita…

To be continued... bukas sorry... ang dae kung gawa... promise...

Sunday, July 19, 2009


How to tell a story series

Every human relationship has a tangible core. And we can think about it, analyze it all we want, It is unchangeable. The truth is Miguelita loved Cirilo with a burning passion akin to the fire of a great affair or hate.

Passion or perhaps hopelessness occupies Miguelita. And passion has no footing in reason. Passion is indifferent to reciprocal emotion, it needs to express itself to the full, live itself to the very end, no matter if it receives in return is kind feelings, sympathy, courtesy, friendship or mere patience… in short passion makes Miguelita a martyr. It’s not strange if Miguelita forgives Cirilo. The fear and uncertainties that just been revealed made him so tragically sad that no words could contain it but that didn’t stop him to love the doctor more.

The night knows their secret and the couple with silent mutual understanding made love as if the world would end the next day. There were no words spoken but tacit and unsaid sentiment interpreted with their kissing, touching and the constant gasping of the martyr homosexual. The walls as if feeling the couple’s passion, cover them with stillness.

The days turn to night, and nights turn to a month and months turn to a whole calendar, and the calendar turns to another calendar their affair lingers despite the constant travels of Cirilo to visit his kids and wife. Miguelita on other hand grew accustomed to his part as the other gay. He would wait for long hours for his man to come. The house and the coffee shop become cleaner from constant cleaning of Miguelita to while away the loneliness of waiting. He even finds time to clean his nails. Happiness to him now means the sound of Cirilo’s car as it parks on the driveway or the familiar sound of his lover’s footsteps.

Oh… what is this coffee, Miguelita? Nene talks to himself as he puts down the mug and looks at his horoscope on the tabloid paper.

That’s not coffee… stupid!!! That’s the water from the rag I just washed… where did you get that?... Miguelita restrains his laugh as he continues to wipe the white coffee cups which he arranged neatly on the rack.

Oh!!!… The fag spats the liquid and announces that he gets it from the pan kettle on the sink. “I thought its coffee”… he furthered and bends over to stand up and he went to the coffee shop’s kitchen. He went back to his table bringing with him a new mug of freshly brewed coffee just as a young man in a nurse’s uniform came in to the quite coffee shop.

Hey, mister can I have coffee please… the young nurse asked Nene as he glances at the clock on the wall that says 3:25 pm.

I’m not a waitress here, go asked that homosexual over there… The faggot pouts his lips pointing to the direction of Miguelita and continues to read his horoscope.

Excuse me can I have the blackest coffee you ever have without sugar please… The young nurse asked Miguelita ignoring the other bitch.

Miguelita with his back from the coffee drinker suddenly smiles and stop his wiping as he heard that familiar question remembering him how he first met Cirilo. He turns back and faces the young nurse with a big smile.

Oh… okay for a sec… please… Hey Nene… can you please help this young man to his table… He called to the other fag who glares at him.

Anything else?... He continues as he looked at the young nurse confidently.

The good looking young nurse stared shyly at Miguelita and stuttered as he replied blushingly… ahhh that’s all… and thank you, He quickly went to his table and glances at Miguelita nervously.

Though on his prime, Miguelita still looks attractive, He had this air of confidence, and an aura of contentment that makes you take a second look at him. His face though quaint is charming. Despite his firm image his smile is comforting like the smile we see with our mother’s when they hushed us if we cut ourselves.

Maybe he is gay… He thought knowingly as he glances at the young nurse who consciously stole a glance at him. He continues to wipe the white coffee cups and ordered Nene to hurry up in serving the coffee.

Nene now fully alert when he found out that the young nurse is handsome… forgetting his horoscope quickly he serves the coffee like a Tasmanian devil. After serving the coffee he befriended the man as the young nurse is new in town. Miguelita watch them in amusement as Nene works his charm on the young man. Strangely the nurse warms up easily to the faggot… Watching them he suddenly misses his Cirilo who is in his second month now with his family. He shouldn’t agree with it, regretfully he thought. It has been decided between the two of them that Cirilo would take a vacation from his work and spends time with his kids and wife. He remembers that the kids are growing up now. He wants to care, he wants to love… love is a heady concoction of wanting and being wanted. As much as he wants to --- he knows that it’s impossible, and with knowing abandon he just looks at the calendar longingly.

Queerly Nene hang-outs everyday at Miguelita’s coffee shop at 3:30 in the afternoon pretending to help Miguelita who also pretends that he doesn’t know that Nene has a crush on the young nurse. Miguelita understand exactly what his younger best friend felt as he felt it a long time ago… and he misses that feeling. He just smiles secretly when he sees Nene’s agitation if the young nurse won’t show up for a day as it is evident with all the broken cups that are accumulating at the back of the coffee shop.

To be concluded this afternoon... bwahahahahaha

Friday, July 17, 2009


How to tell a story series

There is really something about true love, you know… it doesn’t make you asks questions and it makes you contend of what you are. It doesn’t make you complete but it makes you more sure of yourself. Anyway, like a proper housewife Miguelita became a loyal, loving and compassionate partner to Cirilo. Knowing nothing about his partner’s past he still continues to love him. People thought Cirilo rented the other room of Miguelita’s gay house but to their unknowing they don’t know that they were lovers except Nene who saw it all.

The days passed and their affair as secret as it is, bloomed like a mushroom amongst decayed compost. Scenes like cooking together, talking as if it’s the end of the world, secretly hold hands while watching a movie, worrying together about broken pipes, kissing by the laundry, glancing sweetly at each other during parties, washing the dishes together, putting Vicks on each others chest whenever someone’s sick, texting what time his going home, Letting him taste his cooking by the stove, sleeping in others arm in pure abandon… all the good memories a homosexual can ever imagine… Miguelita’s life was never been happier.

Miguelita… Miguelita… Miguelita… Nene shouted at the door of his dear friend’s house.
He is wearing a flowery shirt which matches the curtain she gave to Miguelita a long time ago.

And why are you here? bitch friend…
and what is it this time… I don’t have money… Miguelita replied jokingly as he gestures to the other faggot to come in. He is holding a basketful of laundry and casually turns his back to the chubby visitor as she proceeds to the washing machine.

Gush… you Bitch, I know your imaginary husband is away… we should go out and watch the beauty pageant at the other town. Your enemy the “ingrate homosexual” who uses a lot of men is joining… Oh is that a Banana Que in the table… Nene went straight to the kitchen and didn’t bother to wait for Miguelita’s reply.

Nene munched on the Banana Que and announced to the other gay who is busy putting detergent to the washing machine.

“Oh… by the way… as your imaginary husband is away for a week now, Boyet the janitor in the hospital that I’m flirting with is giving me this letters and some medicine for your Cirilo”… Nene speaks with his mouth full and put the letters on the table.

Oh maybe you like coffee with that… the gay host replied as he glance at the bunch of letters on the table where Nene put it. He is putting the other dirty laundry in a soapy basin.

Without even saying thank you Nene automatically get two coffee mugs and started to brew coffee and the two queens chatted the afternoon away… The two divas have been good friend since they were young and very inseperable since Miguelita father died. They are like sister of the Bene Gesserit who have the same universal consiousness.

A late afternoon shower cast rainbow over the horizon as the two friends finishes thier coffee and Nene left late. And Miguelita continues to do the house chores and finally he picks up the letters and casually putting it on Cirilo’s desk, when a brightly colored postcard in a child’s handwriting falls to the floor. He picks it up, looks at it and cried.

The house is curiously dark when Cirilo arrives despite it still early in the evening.

Migue… Migue… hon… the doctor lovingly look for his partner as he opens the door and switches the lights on. He was suddenly surprised to see Miguelita crying in a corner by the kitchen. With concerned in his face he drops his bag and quickly run to his partner and asked him what happened. Miguelita did not replied and just give him the post card. Cirilo looked at the postcard with a cut-out of his face, two boys and a beautiful woman and the child’s hand writing says “We miss you daddy”….

The house as if watching them became silent, not the lizards nor the night dared to disturb that silence. Miguelita looked at Cirilo, he’s eyes is crying with questions… Cirilo embraced Miguelita in guilt… contained and muted… Miguelita sobs as Cirilo rocks him gently…

To be continued….

Thursday, July 16, 2009


How to tell a story series

Like creamer for coffee the voice of the stranger calling Miguelita makes him stop to breath and he feels like dying. He turns around shyly and

Yes… yes sir… Me… you’re calling me… Miguelita replied.

“Yes, it’s lonely drinking this great coffee of yours and I’m new here, maybe you could give me some advice or whatever about your town” … the stranger replied casually.

I’m Cirilo by the way… Cirilo Franco… The stranger stands up and extent his hand.

Of course Miguelita drops the tray and pretends to dropped it accidentally as he apologetically extends his cold and shivering hand towards Cirilo. Cirilo accepts the cold hand with his warm hand and squeezed it tightly. The gay blushed.

I’m Miguelita… Yeah just Miguelita… the gay replied. He gestures to the handsome man to sit down as he picks up the fallen tray. He then proceeds to clear a chair and sits awkwardly…

… and in that scene begins a new chapter in the homosexual’s lonely existence.

“Cirilo Franco is a doctor that’s been stationed in the ER section of the town’s hospital. He actually comes from a distant city. He is confident, very articulate and strangely very loquacious for a man. He is well accepted in the hospital’s community as he is very good in his profession and popular as he makes the women swoon with his smile and beautiful eyes. I don’t know if his gay or his married but that doesn’t bother you right, And strangely he seems to like hanging out at your coffee shop lately”… The incriminating Nene narrates monotonously to Miguelita as he sips his coffee.

Oh and by the way you look different today… the diva furthered.

You look like you did something to your face or something? Whatever … I need to go back to my dresses now… and thanks for the coffee… see yah later… Nene said goodbye to Miguelita who were cleaning up the table.

Ever since that night when Cirilo first came to Miguelita’s place, the homosexual was never been the same again. The world seems brighter and more meaningful for him. His life of constant grinding and brewing became a life of hoping and loving. Queerly Cirilo on other hand became closer to Miguelita as he frequents his coffee shop. Over bittersweet black coffees they talked almost every night after both of them finishes their duties… and oddly formed a bond that even Nene clearly notices that their falling for each other. And their talking leads to touching and the touching leads to sex and then there is no mystery left as everything is consummated. Then a couple of months more Cirilo decided to move in to Miguelita’s place.

The homosexual is beautiful… Nene thought.

To be continued… bwahahahahahaha….