Parang Kahapon Lang....


My my, how we've all grown up. Bilis tumangkad ah...hmmmmm..

A kasla idi kalman laeng Manong Juan Tenorio.

Back then, fishballs were only 25 centavos a piece and you'd see me walking up and down Session Road wearing my fake "USED" jeans (aminin, you had it too) and my hair spiked up with Spraynet listening to the mind blowing new song from Menudo ("It's an explosion, my love for you....") on my Sony walkman.

Saturday afternoons were spent making mixed tapes, listening to DWHB or Casey Casem's Top 40. An overused blank cassette inserted in the recorder and finger on the play button, ready to push it once the current 'most requested song' starts playing. I remember how annoyed we'd be when the DJ starts blabbering before the song actually finishes. Panda ballpens were used to manually rewind these cassettes, which at 20 pesos were expensive and so you wanted every inch of tape utilised, the next song immediately segueing in, no silent pauses between tunes.

Back to school on Monday, you'd be a hit with the girls if you successfully got a clean recording of the current hit single or if you managed to have your one-fourth piece of paper read by the DJ "This newxt sowng iz requested by..... dedicated to........" on the appointed time. Suddenly, they all want you to sign their homemade autograph notebooks answering questions like "Most embarassing moment" and "Who is your crush" using the lamest of codes. When they finally decipher it, which you really want, you get teased and paired with your crush and if you play your cards right, you'll get to join her on the jeepney ride home. Come saturday you're off on a group date. Depending on how much allowance you saved, this could mean bavarians at Mister Donut or a cheeseburger at Benedict's. Brushing your shoulder against her while walking was considered first base. By group date, this means you, the girl, and 3 hangers on who act as your support team. Eventually the girl will end up with one of these 'bridges'.

In elementary, it was the geekettes such as Maria Lovelyn Corpuz, Mia Alma Batcagan, Michelle Quitania, Eileen Flora, Mary Grace Galinato, and Verna The Ballerina who stood out. The queues to be on their good side were as long as lunchtime line at Tummy Fillers. I can only imagine how many corny letters they got from 'secret admirers' each day.

If your phone number began with 442 this meant you were lucky enough to be so close to the only one Piltel line that serviced the entire barangay. It didn't matter how much you used your phone, you paid a flat rate. Consequently, courtships were done over the phone. Friends with landlines were always popular for sleepovers. You have a phone, we're overnighting at your place on Friday.

We didn't have a phone line but we did have Nuvue cable and so this made our shanty popular with the kanto sunog bagas who came M-W-F-S to watch the clearest PTV-4 reception in Baguio for basketball. When basketball wasn't on, catfights would break out between me and my teenage aunts who wanted to watch Alma Moreno gyrate in leotards while I preferred Battlestar Galactica and V.

The cold months of December involved overnight camping within the safe confines of Camp John Hay. The boys' tents will be pitched on Lower Scout Hill while the girls' camp will be on Upper Scout Hill. At night, an impassable neutral zone existed between the camps composed of rows of tents occupied by spinster teachers. Crossing that line at night meant a long boring talk with the school chaplain in his tent. It didn't matter much that we couldn't play with the girls after dinner as we'd gather around to do a circle wank over the campfire. You'd think this was so gay, clusters of boys masturbating in a circle but this is a great coming of age tradition. Well, ok maybe 2R who went around 'helping' others climax did turn out to be gay. Whatever, once you do the group wank, you are friends forever. Today, you have us to thank for the rude health of those pine trees in that patch of forest.

Fota, ka-sentihan. Kape muna.....


Just like yesterday once more. Hit me baby one more time. Ooooh, let's do that kinky thing we do where you electrocute me then lock me up in a cabinet. It so turns me on....(photo from Pep).