It isn't Fun

The man with the face of heaven

2009-01-16T22:47:00.004+08:00

I used to think neighbors come to my house only because they need something from me.

Indeed, they do.

For the past three years, neighbors have been coming and going out of our house. But they do not come here to borrow or beg for money; neither to borrow carpentry or garden tools; nor to have someone listen to and help them solve their domestic or international problems. They come here for only one reason. They come to see me. No, let me correct that. They come her to see my face.

No, I do not have a face shattered by bazoka. I was not hit by posporous gas Israilites rain on the suspected Hamas militants in Gaza. I have no scar in the form of letter Z on my forehead. I am just another ordinary guy with an extraordinary look.

Of course, you must be demanding for a discription. Sorry, you will never have it. Otherwise, even the Muslim militants who kidnapped the Red Cross volunteers will also kidnap me thinking I have millions simply because I have so much fan from around the world.

To see a hunk (translation: handsome and sexy guy), my neighbors need to either stroll the commercial capital of Manila (Makati), the working district of Pasig (Ortigas), or they may stroll the malls (Sy's Mall, Ayala's Mall, Gokongwei's Mall, et al). To get there, they need to have money for transportation, except the wealthy who have their own sedans. Aside from that, they also need to have their pocket money. People do get hungry not just for beautiful things or human beings to look at; they get hungry for the basic reason that they need food--don't you know that?

The price of food in the places mentioned is no joke. You must have at least a hundred pesos to eat a decent and full meal in a fastfood chain, two hundred in food courts, or at least fifty pesos to buy food in the side walk. But who buys food from the sidewalks when you are inside the mall?

Instead, they come to my house. In here, they have all they want: we serve them merienda, one or two glasses of water--or if the visitor is a baby or a small child, we serve him or her a glass of luke warm milk. Which means, when they come to my house they do not have to spend anything for food.

But there are drinks we avoid serving for obvious reasons: like wine, beer and other alcoholic drinks. We reserve those drinks for the most sane of my fans.

So what do those peole do in your house, you may ask. The truth is, I do not do anything nor do I need to say a word. My neighbors say nothing also! Neighter do they move when I am with them. They just sit there prostrate looking at me. If you look at their eyes its safe to assume they are somewhere else in a beautiful garden--surely not the memorial garden--strolling while holding my hand.

So that the merienda we serve will not be left untouched, we do a little trick to catch their attention and to remind them to stop fantasizing about me instead of spending time with me.

To do that, I need to kiss them. And, just like a flash of light from an instrument used my Will Smith in the movie Men in Black, they shake their head and descend from heaven to earth, in our sala.

The humility of these people is stunning. Where can you find neighbors who are willing to accept and be subjected to harsh criticism for believing almost to a point of insanity that their neighbor has the face of a god? Nowhere else. Only in my place.

You might have noticed I have been trying to avoid revealing my location. I am sure you understand why. I am sure you have heard about me and been looking for my location for a very long time. I am sorry I cannot reveal my place to you. I am glad my neighbors respect a little of what is left of my privacy, and I was able to convinced them not to put up a fan website for me, the same way Chief State Prosecutor Jovencito Zuño convinced the Prosecutors from Central Luzon from staging a mass leave next week. You heard of that? The prosecutors got insulted because Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency (PDEA) officials accused them of taking bribes for the release of Richard Brodett, Jorge Joseph and Joseph Tecson more popularly known as The Alabang Boys.

Anyway, going back to what we were talking about: you may be curious how do I let these people go. Or how do their visits end. Well, I just tell them I have to go write some articles so that I can earn my living. Amusingly, they do not delay me for another second. They tell me they understand the economy is hard and every one of us needs to have some source of income.

Of course, they will be sad every time I say good bye. They just convince and remind themselves that they can go back every day to look at me and adore my face.

Talk about vision. These same people have vision that is why they do not resort to acts of dispair. They believe in their hearts that there will always be tomorrow, another day to celebrate by seeing the face they believe is the face of heaven.

If they were just some other ordinary men and women, before you could ever say good bye they would pull one of your arms close to them and beg you not to leave them. How selfish! But no, my neighbors are extraordinary people. Poverty, hunger and distress could not crush their spirit. Not once were they ever hopeless. All these they owe to one man. The man who has the face of heaven.

Too bad for you who cannot see the face of heaven.

Not easy having a brilliant mind

2009-01-11T11:00:00.000+08:00

A dumb's mind is stocked inside his skull. No matter how hard his mind moves it will not get anywhere because it is like a car stocked in the mud. No amount of will power can make that mind escape the prison of his skull (where his hair grow and sometimes don't, his nose, two eyes, two ears, and a mouth are located), like no amount of horse power can kick a car off the mud where it stocked.

But let me tell you about my mind. My mind works this way: when I see a paper for example, may it be in a newspaper, magazine or a book, I do not get excited because I have something to tear, or burn. And if I live in a city, I have something to sell, or if I live in the mountains, I have something to clean my butt with. I am tired--yes TIRED!--because, when I see a piece of paper I remember the Chinese who not only invented the paper, but also the first printing machine, the gun powder and lastly, the the compass. Not only that! I would start to imagine how the Chinese was able to think about the process for making paper, what were the materials his first experimented with; how he discovered the right material and the perfect (as the technology of that time would permit) process to make the paper; what were his expressions when he found out--or did he find out?--that he invented paper; did he also shout "Eurica!" as the legend says about Archimedes when he discovered a way to measure the amount of gold in a king's crown; where was he when this happened; who was with him--was it his wife? If it was his wife, which wife--the first, second, third, forth, fifth, sixth, seventh, or eight? Was his wife, whichever was it/them, with a son, a daughter, grandson, granddaughter?

Was he able to sleep on the first night? Did he also wake up in the middle of the night to check on his invention? Was there a moon that night? If there was a moon, did he light his cigarette, smiled and blew smoke to the moon? or did he ever smoke?

How was his life affected by his invention? Did he become richer? was he acknoledged by the Emperror and given another wife? Did the Chinese people placed a wreathe on his head?

When he died was he placed in a coffin made of paper? When he was alive, did he use tissue paper?

Repeat all those questions to the other three inventions, and search for the answers in the encyclopedia or the internet. Can you handle that?

There are other times my mind also works this way: I see a firefly and I imagine the the chemical called Luciferin, produced by its body, inter-act with the oxygen in the atmosphere to produce the glow; I see a bat and I imagine seringes filled with the chemical called Draculin extracted from the bat's saliva and injected to a heart attack patient to prevent his blood from clutting, and for the patient to survive;

Dogs were domesticated before cats; cats do not have nine lives;

The most nutritious food is the avocado;

The nearest star is called Proxima Centauri, discovered in 1915; the largest is Sharon Coneta.

Earth is not round, and neither is your head.

There is an earthquake in the sea as well as in the land. And shiver is the name of the earthquake in the body when it is sick with fever.

All these knowledge come to me effortlessly, without me doing anything. My mind sour in the sky of ideas and it is not stocked inside the mud in my skull.

Admittedly, it is not easy sometimes I wish I were some one else--Einstein maybe.

Hateful kiss

2007-10-05T22:52:00.000+08:00

One of the many things I do not like in this life is a wet kiss. I love to kiss and be kissed. Kissing per se is my favorite. I just hate a wet kiss.

One of the many reasons I do not like a wet kiss is the result it causes to my once clean and clear face. Women I know, women I do not know, i.e., those I meet in the streets, I ride with in trains with their boyfriend, in malls, in theaters…

To be honest, many times I felt like I wanted to commit suicide. I asked myself: "am I owned by the public? Do not have I the right to live a normal life?" For sure, I do not look like a statue of a saint because, for one, I move. Second, according to my mother, I am more handsome than they are. People kiss and adulate only statues. Why make me an exception--I move?!

Based on that ground alone, women should stay away from me. Surprisingly, those same qualities draw them nearer.

Let it be clear that I only complain about wet kisses. I do not mind besobeso.

I have resigned to my fate as the most kissable. Even the persons close to me, my cousins and friends, who should have a healthy contempt for me, could not help it.

But, by being close to me, I give the the privilege. (Talk about nepotism). I simply do not complain. But I do complain about them kissing wet the picture I gave them.

You see, a picture is easily destroyed by liquid. Is not saliva a liquid? I have to have my pictures taken almost every week so I have something to distribute like alms to my loved ones who beg them from me.

Cousin: "JP, give me another of your picture. The one you gave me is erased."

Me: "Why erased, ate?"

Cousin: "I keep on kissing it, it got destroyed by liquid."

Me: "God great, ate. How many times have you asked for my picture?"

Cousin: "JP, please, do not get angry. Just can’t help but kiss you when I see your face."

Me: "God be great, ate. I am sure you are aware that you are not the only cousin who ask pictures from me."

Cousin: "JP, here. Take this one thousand pesos. Go have a picture taken for me--please?"

Me: "Ate, it is not about money. It is about me going every week to the studio. I have done almost all the poses and the photographers are fast becoming allergic to me, ate."

Cousin: "JP, please…"

With a sweet and charming cousin like her, who could ever refuse?

How I break women's heart

2007-04-02T13:57:00.000+08:00

There are a lot of men who email me asking how I break women’s heart.

I tell them, I tried--without success.

I do not really know what these women really like about me. I am clumsy, I bite my nails when I get scared, I do not know how to cross the streets of manila, I do not know how to use the fork when paired with a knife; I am unemployed, naturally, I do not pay our meals, etc.

In fact, please forgive me, I nag at them without reason just to drive them away.

Pathetically, even my nag sounds like music to their ears. Instead of getting angry, they become sweeter and more physical; would kneel and beg for forgiveness and understanding for creating the “spark” that caused the “explosion” of my emotions.

Am also human “born to make mistakes”, as the song goes. Who am I to deprive them of the forgiveness and understanding they seek when I too ask for the same from the One who has plenty of them?Besides, they have actually no fault after all.

I am not proud of what I do. I do them however for a purpose. And that purpose is to break their hearts so that they would leave me alone.

But I am without success. I have tried almost everything from dating without taking a bath, to wearing different kinds of shoes with every foot, to name a few.

But I am without success.

In my quest to break women’s hearts, it is mine which is broken as a result.

So, to my dear readers who ask me how I break women’s hearts, I tell you for the last time. I do not break their hearts. They break mine.

And to the women, I hate to say these here but I can’t say it in your face because I do not want to see you hurt. Please, stay away from me.

Do not visit me and do not call me. Please, do not even text me.

How an Experiment was shuttered because Einstein DID take a bath

2007-03-25T22:45:00.000+08:00

Do you know that an experiment Einstein once had failed because he did take a bath?

Einstein’s assistant was directing the ray of light to another end when Einstein entered the lab.

They were trying to measure the speed of light.

When Einstein entered, the experiment was about to finish.

But Einstein entered and the aroma of the soap Einstein used filled the nose of the assistant.

The assistant was shocked! He knew Einstein did not take a bath. He taught he saw a ghost in the form of his boss Einstein.

Frightened, the assistant shivered, otherwise he could not move.

Einstein, from behind, noticed the reaction of his assistant. He took three steps forward and asked: “Is there something wrong?”

Of course, he knew there was something wrong. He was a genius.

Hearing Einstein’s voice, the assistant was more scared than ever. He expected a voice of a ghost, not Einstein’s.

Because he was more scared that ever, he jerked to the right to look at the ghost. He forgot he was holding an instrument. It smashed against another instrument. The experiment was shattered.

Einstein, however, was not angry at the assistant.

He was a genius. He knew he was the cause.

He did take a bath.

How an Experiment was shuttered because Einstein did not take a bath

2007-03-18T22:39:00.000+08:00

Do you know that an experiment Einstein once had failed because he did not take a bath?

Einstein’s assistant was directing the ray of light to another end when Einstein entered the lab.

They were trying to measure the speed of light.

When Einstein entered, the experiment was about to finish.

But Einstein entered, and the assistant sneezed.

It was a deeply satisfying sneeze that the assistant forgot that he was holding an instrument. When he sneezed, he raised his hand in reflex. When the hand came back down in the same reflex…BANG!

It hit another instrument.

Like a domino, the whole experiment was shattered.

Einstein however was not angry at the assistant.

He was a genius.

He knew he was the cause.

He did not take a bath.

Learning the Spanish language

2007-03-12T09:07:00.000+08:00

My sisters are learning the Spanish language and I feel threatened.

What if they speak in Spanish and I could not understand? Let’s say a sister says to another, “Nosotros hermano JP Anthony es muy guapo?”

Of course I will know that they are talking about me because one mentioned my name. Aside from my name however, I will never understand a word they say especially the adjective “guapo”.

How do I react then? When will I know I have to compliment or scold or get angry with them?

If it is difficult to be misunderstood, how much more difficult it is not understand?

These two sisters of mine has also learned sign language. At the table, they sit side by side, and when they communicate with each other through sign language, it seems that one would pull another’s hair.

They have learned to laugh without a sound. They smile and laugh at each other and steal a sly glance at me.

I wonder why it is always me they are always looking at. There are the rest of my brothers but it is always me.

You bet, I dropped my plan to join the tv networks’ talent searches. I rationalized, if I could not handle the two women’s attention, how much more if the worlds’ most beautiful, sexy, and intelligent women, yes, the Filipinas, woo me?

My God, they will all be disappointed.

A superstar is there to fulfill peoples’ fantasies, and not to frustrate them. He is there to reciprocate their attention and adulation, not to run away and hide from them, much more hate them.

Going back to my sisters: yes, they are very intent at learning the Spanish language. For sure, in the future, I will become again the laughing stock, the subject of jokes and conversations I will never ever understand. In the meantime, I am looking in Spanish dictionaries the Hiligaynon, Tagalog and English meaning of the word “guapo”.

I want my words!

2007-03-11T22:14:00.000+08:00

I have a sickness. For the cure of which, I dare not hope. Through the years, this sickness has become worse. This must be the punishment I receive for what Adam and Eve had done.

I was once taught that life is a river. The life that I have now flows from the spring which is my ancestors’. Because my ancestors dirtied their life by eating the forbidden fruit, the life that I have is naturally dirty. As I result, although it was not actually me who violated God’s order, I suffer the same thing. As if, being born as the result of the violation is not enough, God gave me this sickness. The sickness that when I am with beautiful women my tongue refuse to move and my lips refuse to utter words.

I used to hate God about this that even if he begged me for forgiveness, I would still have condemned him to hell. God moves, however, in mysterious ways; and he has theories to explain things, like the theory of equity.

According to this theory--but believe me, this is stupid--God gives a pleasing and entertaining personality to the ugly, which the beautiful do not always possess; a tongue dripping with honey to the ugly, and a handsome smile to the not-so-ugly.

But I do not like to smile!!!

My mother's mistake

2007-02-26T08:00:00.000+08:00

At least in a mother’s life time, she commits a great mistake. For that mistake, I do not forgive her.

I do not mourn for my sake. I mourn in behalf of those innocent people who were and am sure are still hurting.

We are six children in the family. Four are boys, including me. Am sure, mothers knows, that there are times competition among siblings could not be avoided. Competition as to who is the most talented, who is the most intelligent, who is the most sensitive or who is the most handsome.

I do not mind if mother, in the presence of all my siblings, and even with strangers, tells me I have no talent, or that I have no intelligence or am insensitive. But I do mind if she declares in front of my siblings that I am the most handsome.

My siblings are human beings too. They have feelings. They hurt. And I know my mother’s remark hurt them badly.

It is not my siblings’ fault that they did not become as handsome as your youngest child, mother. In fact, they did not even wish to be born. It was you and my father, bless his soul, who gave them the chance they did not ask for. A little consideration is in order.

I understand, it is perfectly normal to err as humans. But to hurt AZ, BJ and RO was an error that could have been avoided.

I still bleed for your remark. I do not even wish to forgive you. You, as a mother, should have understood better. How couldn’t you?

My siblings are innocent. Spare them this pain. I am not giving you another chance to do the same thing again. Am going…

away.