Thursday, 30 November 2006

Someone's Cast A Spell On Me

My juju is stronger than your juju.........

Someone must be trying to cast a black magic spell on me. First, my colleagues have gone down with the flu but thanks to my strong third world immune system, I may be a bit weakened but I am still standing. Two, my friend's birthday is up this Saturday but I can't join her as I'm working that day. Finally, this is the worst part - my library crush (she's crush number 4 but she is as hot as the rest of them) who I've been stalking (who in fact stole my coffee in hall last weekend) decided to sit in that dark corner of the library where there is no electrical socket! My laptop battery is drained and to sit there next to her pretending to work with a laptop that is turned off kinda blows my cover. I could pretend to be reading a book but all the books around are in Latin. (Tang-ina nga naman ang malas ano.) Anyways, whoever you are trying to cast bad vibes on me, I will find you and you will pay dearly. (Binabalaan kita sherap, bumalik ka na sa pinanggalingan mo at puno na ang salop.) The force is strong in me and my magick will vanquish you.

Anyways, there are just some days when you wish there were more hours in the day....

'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late' - The Nashman in Wonderland

I attended a talk by Alfred Bader, the founder of one of the world's largest chemical companies and who is also a very prominent Rembrandt collector, last night. The very exclusive audience comprised only 25 or so people including me except that I was probably the only one in the audience who was aged below 26, whose bank account only had 3 significant figures (ang masakit pa non, eh peso kiddie-saver account), and who did not own a single Old Master painting. Everyone else was some art historian, art collector, or art dealer.

Anything involving Rembrandt is like a good conspiracy/mystery/puzzle/thriller novel that you can't put down. Rembrandt had lots of very good students (Fabritius, Bol, Hoogstraten) which means it's really hard to tell which paintings are Rembrandts, copies, or from his students. The Dutch government has spent gazillions of guilders classifying all Rembrandtesque paintings into three groups - "A" paintings are 'accepted' as by Rembrandt, "B" paintings are 'bothersome' (not sure), and "C" paintings are from Rembrandt's 'circle' (coming from his workshop). Out of the original 600 paintings that have turned up, just over a hundred are "A" paintings and every decade or so, paintings get reclassifed. This is where the fun/intrigue/mystery/dealing begins. Bader himself has amassed lots of "A", "B", and "C" paintings and he narrated how often he would take a gamble at auction for a "C" painting which is later proven to be an "A" painting. But for me, the more interesting stories are those on "A" paintings that have been recently relegated as "C" paintings. (Kasakit naman, lalo if you paid $7M on it tapos "C" lang pala talaga.)

One interesting theory is that Rembrandt may have also signed some works by his students. Like during the renaissance, it was not uncommon for a painting to be a collaborative work between the maestro and his students.

The Mennonite Minister......the face was definitely painted by Rembrandt, but the body was not. Still classifed as an "A" Rembrandt.

After his very engaging talk, I invited Prof. Bader to Baguio to have a look at one of the paintings in my collection which I think is an "A" Rembrandt and asked if he might be interested in buying it from me for £1.5M.

I described the painting to him in detail but he said Rembrandt did not paint "Dogs playing pool and poker" and that there is no "Made China" tag on any of the Rembrandt frames. Ever.
Are you sure? I prodded. The man who dealt it to me said it was original Uu suki, uridjinal itu. Pagbilhin mu, bigyan pa kita bagu dbd ni Epril Booy. Tang-ina na-gancho ako.

After rubbing shoulders with the art cognosceti, I had to run with my Reed's Bootery bespoke shoes to college for another set of talks, this time on film and photography. The Belgian photographer Doug Vernimmen showed some very nice baby pictures while Stanford Film Professor Jan Krawitz explained the motivations for her last film which was about midgets. (Tangna yung talent manager ko ha. Dapat ako ang bida sa pelikulang ito. Lilipat na ako sa Star Circle.)

We're so alcholic. Even fricking dessert has alcohol.

Belgian chocolates and wine during the evening lecture. Only in Middle Earth. In my alma mater SLU, you can't bring any alcoholic beverage of any sort inside campus. Even if it's already in your belly. Wait, there is actually a double standard - the priests have lots of wine in their rooms.

This is Maverick to Flight Control. I have visual on two landing strips. Which one is a go? Over. - Top Gone

At dinner I was sat in front of the technical manager for the Formula 1 team Super Aguri-Honda. They're a small upstart which started racing only this season. Their operating budget is in the less than $100M range (compared to the main Honda Team which spends $800Mish). They've built 5 cars (three of which race) and I offered to test drive (or more accurately, 'crash') one of the cars despite the fact that I have no driver's license. (I crashed my uncle's rusty Chevy when I was 11 and since then I have never driven again but I will change my mind for an F1 car. And just in case you were wondering, in Benguet, we learn to drive at a very early age because 11 year olds can't carry sacks of potatoes to help in the farm but they're tall enough to reach the pedals of a Ford Fiera.) Anyways, my friend Kerry asked the usual question on whether F1 success is more about the car or the driver. (Ano sa tingin mo?) Incidentally, F1 drivers whose last names are not Schumacher can expect to earn $7M a year. Not bad eh? I think I know some Trancoville jeepney drivers who can drive an F1 car. Imperialists from Manila may say that Edsa bus drivers make better F1 drivers but they only ever do straight tracks.

As usual, The Nashman prefers to sit at the end of the table.

The starter. Our chef is so OC. I just had to ask the Dean though who's idea was it to serve red wine with the fish main dish? Not that I'm complaining, I'll drink a good red with anything.

After dinner, my friend (that girl with glasses) said she wanted to get something off her chest and wanted to share a little secret. I did a preemptive strike and whispered on her ear what I thought it was. I was correct. I've known her for three years now and tonight this evil evil secret will undoubtedly put our friendship to the test. It's so immoral and unethical I can't even put it here on my online diary. I need to go to confession with a Cardinal now.....we've committed a very grave sin. (It involves pressing some buttons.)

I don't know why we had Tiramisu for dessert. In Italy, Tiramisu is one of the more overt signals that one is single and available. (It's a pick-me-up sign.) I'm single, but I'm NOT available. For God has a plan for me. I'm going to be a nun and start and all girls' school....

Tuesday, 28 November 2006

Weyb da Felepen plag prawdli

One undergrad student was shocked at lab today as I held the microscope slide containing his blood sample with my bare hands. Aren't you supposed to be wearing gloves for safety reasons? he remarked. I looked at him and I just had to do that Austin Powers routine, the one where Dr. Evil tells his son Scott to zip it.. Let me tell you a little story about a man named Sh! Sh! even before you start. That was a pre-emptive "sh!" Now, I have a whole bag of "sh!" with your name on it.

I brought out my cedula and slapped it in his face. I'm a Filipino you muppet. I've got a third world immune system. Safety, schmasty, eklat chu chu do I look bothered?

Bacteria/viruses can smell me from a mile away and tremble in fear. Ugh, The Nashman! He's sooooo Pinoy! We're no match! It's the end of us all! Run for your lives!

True, I've been vaccinated from all sorts of nasty pathogens with all those fishballs, day old chicks, toknene, and barbequed entrails I've been eating off the streets. Only in the third world can one have such superior immune system. I lab yu Pelepens!

Coming up with another reason to be proud of my roots, don't be pooled by da raks dat I hab, I'm stel da Nashman pram da block, high brow art magazine Vice (which is read by a who's who of cool people) in their special issue on Gangs and Cults, had NOT one, NOT two, but THREE!/TROIS!/TRES pages devoted to the Philippines' Sputnik gang! In contrast, other less than stellar cults such as the Moonies, the Misanthropic Luciferian Order (the largest satanic cult in Scandanivia), the Teenage Chinese Dyke Gangs, the Crips, the Bloods, Hell's Angels and Aum Shinrikyo (the guys who farted nerve gas in the Tokyo underground) only got a few column inches in the magazine! We got three full colour picture pages! This reverence shows how highly esteemed Filipinos are whatever their chosen field. We don't just sing and dance you know!

After I read the article and gawked at the pictures of Sputnik members standing proud with their machetes drawn, the afterglow was just too much that I brought the copy along and showed it to our chancellor, Chris Patten, during a lull at the Congregation today. (PS. Don't ask Patten "How are the colonies?" followed by "Ooops, you just lost one didn't you?" He just hates to be reminded.)

I think I should donate my copy of this magazine to my college so that everyone in Middle Earth will get a chance to learn some of my amazing Filipino culture.

Sputnik gang members strike a fashion pose.

The next time a European tells me how sad they are that my beloved Las Islas Filipinas is poor and that our healthcare system is failing , I will show him this picture. Look, this man is poor. He has no job and he is in prison. Yet, he obviously is eating well. Look at those multiple bolo wounds on his belly. In any other country he would have died of secondary infection. Onli en da Pelepens bebi.

Finally, who are the directors for TV programming dorks who thought it wouldn't piss a lot of people by putting TWO very important shows on the same day and on the same time slot? Gawd! I had to flip between channels just to watch these educational programs.

Evil censorship has finally been discarded in Britain. TV taboos such as showing full frontal nudity in the aroused state, how to shag properly, even special cameras inserted into the woman's vagina to show the penis entering and what physiological changes happen on the vaginal walls and how to put pressure on the perineum to delay ejaculation can now be shown on free terrestial TV. In the Philippines, this will take some time to happen because the president, priests, bishops, datus, politicians, bigots, congressmen, and zealots don't want TV crews filming what really happens inside their gated mansions. Ok, that's probably a bad analogy. Sex as part of a loving relationship is perfectly normal and natural, what politicians, and religious bigots do inside their gated mansions are vile, disgusting, and deserve 20 lashes. Oh, well, there are some things da Pelepens still need to work on.

Sunday, 26 November 2006

The Nashman Studies of Motion 15: Rock and Roll na Jeproks

His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit enjoying breakfast on the terrace.

Once HRO Karl Willem, PA/PR Gromit, and I entered the Southern Gate of the fort city of Mogador, we immediately realised why it drew the likes of Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, the Rolling stones, and countless other musicians. This is the spiritual home of Gnaoua music and ever since Hendrix established a commune at the edge of the desert, jazz and blues in the Maghreb as well.

A fine mist covers this jewel of a city on the Atlantic coast most mornings and evenings. The ethereal glow inspired The Nashman to pay homage to the gods.........I whipped out my air guitar and started playing Lupang Hinirang, ala Hendrix in Woodstock with Star Spangled Banner and Brian May with God Save the Queen on top of Buckingham Palace two years ago, with my magical six-stringed axe...

With Atlantic waves crashing on the ramparts behind them (not visible due to the thick fog), HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit urge you to ramp up your volume to 11 as The Nashman plays some sweet tunes accompanied by rock god moves....

1. The opening jump off the platform.....are you reaaaaaady to rock?

2. Look how The Nashman effortlessly hammers away at those power chords while flying in midair...

3. The Nashman doing a very diffucult chord progression...

4. Like Hendrix, The Nashman can also play the guitar with his teeth....

Tha.....tha....tha.....aaaaats all for now folks....

The Nashman has left the building. The Nashman has left the building. Now available on iTunes music store get the latest official album The Nashman IV: Instrumental works on Air Guitar.

Friday, 24 November 2006

Those wires that stick out of secret service agents' ears? They're just props..........

I have to thank the Spaniards that at least they left some nice and sweet things to Las Islas Filipinas such as turrones, yema, leche flan, and tapas (pulutan). Had they force fed these to us indios instead of Padre Damaso's vile dick, maybe we wouldn't have put up a fight.

What's amazing about most of my favourite food is that they look unappealing yet they taste delicious. Turron for example looks like poo but that ain't gonna stop me from french kissing it till it melts in my mouth.

It's Friday night so what did a single young thang like me do? Browse through magazines at Borders. Sad but true. They say that what one reads says a lot about one's personality. Tonight I picked up Bizarre, Enquirer, Mac User, Wallpaper, and Boxing News. Porn, trash, geeky, cerebral, sporty. Wow, I'm a well rounded individual!

Finally, big it up and fist thump to the chest respect! ayt to the Argentinian snatchers who, inspite of the army of secret service agents around, got the bag and mobile phone of.......

To the Argentinian mandurukots - Hanep pare galeng nyo. Balato naman. Manila snatchers are probably just as good, even more creative, but it takes lots of cojones to pull this one off. I don't think this will happen to any of GMA's offspring though. Besides, why would anyone want to steal Mikey or Luli Arroyo's bags? Eww, they probably got pictures of their fugly mom with her boy toy Mike Defensor in their wallets. Oh, why do they keep a picture of a pig as well? Oh, that's just their dad.

Thursday, 23 November 2006

Last night, I smurfed up with some smurftastic smurfettes. I am smurfed.

Apparently, it's Thanksgiving but I have very little to be thankful for because my date stood me up. (How dare she! She will never work in this city again. No one dares do this to The Nashman!)

Well, I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving as my heart goes out to Squanto and the Indians who lost their land shortly after that dinner with the Pilgrims.

But then again, past is past and we should all move on and get along.

I skipped alcohol altogether because if those American sitcoms/dramas/movies are to be believed, arguments break out during thanksgiving dinner. As I know too well from growing up in the mean slums of Baguio, alcohol and arguments don't mix.

I ended the night at the cellars with my historian and archeologist friends talking, oddly enough, about the fricking Smurfs. How this conversation degraded from the Punic wars, to Fraggle Rock, to Smurfs is a mystery considering I wasn't drunk or stoned.

Wednesday, 22 November 2006

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies....

My two experiments failed today hence I was feeling a little bit depressed. Fortunately, I was due to attend a cocktail reception at the museum where alcohol was overflowing. Better to drown my sorrows away. Of course, I started the night with two glasses of orange juice and stood just outside the service area so that I could hijack the canape trays as they came out. Why do they make canapes so small? I had to munch down 30 or so of the little urchins before my stomach was satisfied.

His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit approve of The Nashman's frocks.

At the reception I met a half Romanian-Bulgarian historian studying Sanskrit who was, get this, born in Transylvania. This makes too many Romanian coincidences for me this year that I really should stop dilly-dallying and finally go to Romania. I should also resume my Dracula research now that there are only 5 hours of daylight here in sunny England. It's much more exciting dabbling in the occult when it's dark.

Do you think it wise to serve alcohol in the middle of all these priceless artefacts?

Hurray, I found the wine table. The key to cocktail receptions is to talk only to who you think will be very interesting. There is no point meeting to too many people as you will forget their name by the second drink.

Well, she wanted a drink......

What about me? I want a drink too.

I left the party early to attend a talk by former NASA scientist and epidemiologist Prof. Greene sponsored by the Jewish society. Yes, I see eyebrows raised but this isn't the first Jewish society meeting I've attended. First of all, I'm circumcised and have long hair. Jesus was circumcised and had long hair and was a Jew......

Aaaaanyways, I still have some geek soul in me and I would not pass on the chance to meet one of the men who sent the Viking probe to Mars in 1976. The samples recovered initially pointed to evidence of life on that red rock. Sadly for conspiracy theorists and the odd alien nutter, extensive tests proved negative. (Incidentally, that probe landed on July, the same month my dad shagged my mother and I was conceived. I guess the fact that I'm writing this blog is more compelling evidence for the existence of life, maybe not intelligent life but life nonetheless.) Anyways, I had a short talk with Prof Greene about some elements of the Torah (or Pentateuch) which bugged me. Four years of Catholic cathecism at Boys' High and I'm telling you, that will scar you for life. (Not that I regret anything. Four years of Boys' High are some of my best years on this planet.) Also, none of my teachers back then could explain how some very scary and violent books on divine and human punishment (Deuteronomy, for example) can precede a very erotic book (Song of Songs - yes Dorothy, there is erotica in the Bible). Anyways I aint' going to ramble on about this as we also talked briefly about how far up the atmosphere can microbes survive, as well as intelligent design, evolution, etc...etc....

Finally, celebrity pregnancies seem to be de riguer these days. Even B-list stars need an entire PR firm to announce that they got knocked up.

Today, The Nashman is proud to announce to the entire world that he has delivered 3 short brown babies. (It would have been ONE LONG brown baby but my sphincter kept contracting).....

At exactly this time I went into labor.....

After five minutes, I gave birth naturally to three lovely babies (one, was underdeveloped and was sadly wiped away like a melted Hershey's bar by toilet paper .)

I'd show you baby pictures but Vogue magazine has exclusive rights to them.......

The Nashman's babies are protected from the paparrazi by a security cordon.

Tuesday, 21 November 2006

Gee, I hope someone can play with my balls too...

Yes, it puzzles quite a few that the Christmas tree is up a little bit too early....but then that's The Nashman's Pinoy influence. We'll have it there till, oh, hmmm.....February....

I finally managed to get 2gb of RAM into my macbook. What I don't understand is why it's such a rip-off to get so called 'official apple' memory from the Apple store. I mean, c'mon, $350 for two gigs? No way. The best solution is to do it yourself and get ram from the cheapest source you can find. It works just as far.....

Yes Mustapha, more juice for my mac please. A screenshot of my newly installed 2gb of ram! I can now surf porn at lightning speeds. (Mustapha's by the way is the best place to eat goat's entrails, penises, and practically anything in its anatomy in the whole of Djemaa el Fna. I love his tangia with pickled oranges and the slow cooked whole sheep's brain just melts in your mouth!)

I had lunch today with my new lawyer. (My original one left me, remember?) I barely know her but I like her already. I like the fact that she has the right attitude with respect to eating. She's not into the slice of cucumber and one leaf of lettuce diet. She enjoys her food and burns it by extreme physical activity. She's my new inspiration to get me down into my ideal weight of 60kg.

Teodora's lunch. 5000 calories -Pasta with salmon, saute potatoes, and something with custard.

After lunch, I waited for my other friend, the one who writes for the IHT and Newsweek, to show up so that I can bring her to the famous underground sandwich bar Gertie's. Now, she also has a healthy attitude to eating. Unlike my new lawyer however, she prefers to store all the food into her love handles just in case the ice age happens tomorrow and we all need to hibernate. I love my journalist friend though as I'm kept up to date with a-list gossip. I mean a-list gossip NOT Madame Auring v. Mystica love triangle...

Finally, wow....I don't know what the NBA is thinking. Cheerleaders have come a long way. You gotta love a girl who can play with two balls......(I think this is a move by the NBA to produce taller 12 year olds.....naku, tatangkad si Tutoy nito...)

Eeeek. I'm speechless.

What can I say........

The money shot...
Photos Copyright by The Houston Rockets/NBA

Monday, 20 November 2006

This will end all post-coital arguments.....

So there you are in bed with your inamorata cuddling in the spooning position after some vigorous lovemaking when suddenly you hear this noise.

Who farted?
Not me.
Yes you did!
Did not!
I heard it!
It wasn't me!

Eventually, this breaks into a full blown argument involving who is not putting down the toilet seat, the way one squeezes toothpaste out of the tube, who did the dishes, who did not do the dishes, etc, etc.. and before you know it, someone dumps someone.

Fear not oh fornicators for this new book answers one of life's most nagging questions....

It's just the wind beneath her wings...

Of course, I would like to add that this answer is based on the assumption that you poked the right hole.

How could I possibly have poked the wrong hole! you exert emphatically. Well, the fact that only 45% of women actually get an orgasm during penetrative sex could mean that quite a few are churning dark chocolate instead of strawberry cream.

My advice, and you should always take advise from a chaste and celibate devout catholic like me, is that if you find that corn kernels (or whatever she had for dinner the other day) are being lodged on your frenulum (pag supot), or sulcus (pag tuli), on the outward stroke, then chances are you are putting Pedro into the chocolate factory. Therefore, the answer to the above question doesn't apply.

(PS: "Right" hole refers to conventional sex taught in Sunday school. If you are so inclined, I have nothing against the 'wrong' hole. It could also be 'right' as taught in the Convents.)

Aaaaaanyways, in other news - Spring is finally upon's cold outside but at least it's pastel pretty.

Me and the dawgs got a new toy. A firewire external hard disk drive designed in His Royal Orangeness' colour by Neil Poulton. How time flies! My first computer had only 100 or so megabytes of storage. Now with mp3 files, movies, porn, and jpeg photos even 60GB isn't enough.

HRO Karl Willem approves of the orange outline of our new rugged hdd as PA/PR Gromit strikes a pensive pose wondering how long before we need to get a new one. We now have 450GB of storage. And yet, that still classifies me as normal. The real geeks I know have terabytes.

Because all of my godchildren think of me as the skint godfather who can't afford to give them PS3 or Nintendos for Christmas, I have decided not to exceed their expectations and will be giving them these......

...the book I mean, but maybe I could get them an actual vicious mongrel....

Finally, you know it's a Monday when you screw up even a very simple dinner. I made ginisang tuna in sunflower oil (with garlic, onions, chili) and topped it off with a raw egg. This was supposed to be served in 2 minutes so that the egg yoke would just be malasado (runny). Instead, I forgot all about it because a trailer for Juliet Binoche's new movie was showing on telly and the egg was well done. Well, ok, gawking at Juliet Binoche is a good excuse..

The disaster TV dinner. The curse of the bachelor strikes again. Well, not that having a girlfriend will solve anything.

Sunday, 19 November 2006

D'uh? He-lloooooow?


Does one have to ask why?

You're both teenagers.

First Kiss.

Of course you'll want another one.

And another one. And another one. And another one. And another one.....

Direk, isa pa-ulit pa.....I don't think my acting skills did the scene justice, can we re-do it again? And do we have to wear these gowns?.....

Co-ed boarding school. Only a matter of time before the hormones catch up.....
Oooh, Harry is that your magic wand?........

According to Madame Auring, Yes, Tom it's lucky to have your wedding in the very same castle haunted by Isabela de Medici who was killed in a crime of passion.

THC content of this super skunk is 29%!

That is one of the prettiest female forms I've seen lately. I'm gonna book me tickets.

I told you not to smoke that dope......