Why is The Nashman fat: Exhibit A.

I have formally rejoined society after a week's voluntary isolation due to ill health. I've been eating unhealthy take-out food so tonight I showed up at college for dinner. I must say that it's probably our chef's off night. First of all the candles weren't even lit, the bread came later than the starter, and we were, to my shock horror, not even using fine college silver. Ano ito? I didn't came one tawsan miles pram da bundoks of Baguio por dis! But as my mother superior always reminded me in the convent "Be thankful for all your blessings."

Indeed, I remember back in the mean slums of New Lucban where we first lived, we was so poor we had to re-use Jollibee spoons and forks (Ok, that's actually a lie. Baguio didn't have fastfood before the '90s), and we had to drink from the recycled glass containers of Blend 45 coffee.


I'm the only one in the table who has NOT been to boarding or posh public school. However, I'm the only one on the table who has survived two revolutions ('86, '01), a powerful earthquake ('90), an NPA offensive ('88), malaria ('04), a volcanic eruption ('90), and the kotong cops of Manila ('99-present). Respec, yo!

Starter of green stuff.....

Main of peppered steak topped with stilton cheese and whisky sauce.

The light dessert.

People have asked me what happens AFTER these college dinners. Believe me, you DON'T want to know. If people knew, Tony Blair and Bill Clinton would have never been elected to office. And I should keep my mouth shut as I intend to run for Mayor in my hometown. (No, it doesn't involve smoking Marijuana. Doing that sort of thing doesn't raise an eyebrow in Baguio, duh. Incidentally, you know you are NOT from Baguio if you HAVE to pay for jutes.)