Yesterday's news....



"So how high is the water level over the footpath?" I asked the man sitting on the canal locks, assuming him to be responsible for operating it, hence knows how the water levels are.

"Oh, just knee-level." said he.

This was manageable I thought, so I took off my shoes and waded in.

The water came up to my waist, soaking my shorts and the new shagedelic Bjorn Borg undies I was wearing.

"Shet na malagkit naman. Sabi mo hanggang tuhod!" I said to the man. (In English of course, "This isn't knee deep!")

The man stood up. I think he was at least 6'11" tall.

Fota, oo nga naman, hanggang tuhod lang NYA yung baha.


I said "Finish or not finished, pass your papers!" Well, it doesn't apply to Brian May who finishes his PhD earlier than me! Daya ha, sobrang late na yang thesis na yan!

Wow, he still alive. Kala ko patay na sya tulad ni Phoebe Cates.

I think I will sue the "Little Angels' Nursery School" in Baguio who forced me to learn to write with my wrong hand! See, it's genetics! I'm a natural lefthander! It's because of that very Catholic the "Right" symbolizes Good and the "Left" symbolizes "Bad" bollocks that they hang on to.

Well, surely future Harry Potter movies will have a sex scene. He's 18 and in a co-ed wizard boarding school! Surely, he has the right to work magic with his 'wand' with the ladies. If it mirrored reality, Daniel would happily sign up for 9 movies! Hermione, tingnan mo magic oh, yung wand ko palaki ng palaki...Gusto mo makita syang dumura?

The master of darkness, Ingmar Bergman has finally met the Grim Reaper. I hope he is in a better place. Everyone should see "The Seventh Seal"....


The Guardian editorial toon has death as Bush and new PM Brown as the crusader.

The Daily Telegraph 'toon has Bush playing chess with Death.

Yesterday's news....



"So how high is the water level over the footpath?" I asked the man sitting on the canal locks, assuming him to be responsible for operating it, hence knows how the water levels are.

"Oh, just knee-level." said he.

This was manageable I thought, so I took off my shoes and waded in.

The water came up to my waist, soaking my shorts and the new shagedelic Bjorn Borg undies I was wearing.

"Shet na malagkit naman. Sabi mo hanggang tuhod!" I said to the man. (In English of course, "This isn't knee deep!")

The man stood up. I think he was at least 6'11" tall.

Fota, oo nga naman, hanggang tuhod lang NYA yung baha.


I said "Finish or not finished, pass your papers!" Well, it doesn't apply to Brian May who finishes his PhD earlier than me! Daya ha, sobrang late na yang thesis na yan!

Wow, he still alive. Kala ko patay na sya tulad ni Phoebe Cates.

I think I will sue the "Little Angels' Nursery School" in Baguio who forced me to learn to write with my wrong hand! See, it's genetics! I'm a natural lefthander! It's because of that very Catholic the "Right" symbolizes Good and the "Left" symbolizes "Bad" bollocks that they hang on to.

Well, surely future Harry Potter movies will have a sex scene. He's 18 and in a co-ed wizard boarding school! Surely, he has the right to work magic with his 'wand' with the ladies. If it mirrored reality, Daniel would happily sign up for 9 movies! Hermione, tingnan mo magic oh, yung wand ko palaki ng palaki...Gusto mo makita syang dumura?

The master of darkness, Ingmar Bergman has finally met the Grim Reaper. I hope he is in a better place. Everyone should see "The Seventh Seal"....


The Guardian editorial toon has death as Bush and new PM Brown as the crusader.

The Daily Telegraph 'toon has Bush playing chess with Death.

An Open Letter to Angel Locsin


Does this come in the Philippine Flag?

Dear Angel,

Magandang araw!

I do not (yet) know you or have the slightest clue what you actually do but my friend sent me a link about you and I saw that you are:

1. Pretty. Very.
2. Doing an 'intensive' four week 'pashun' course in London so that you can be like J.Lo and release your own swimwear/underwear line.

In your eksklusib interbyu, you say you are enjoying your 'freedom' in London, being treated like an 'ordinary' citizen. Clips were shown with you on the Tube, riding down the escalator, walking on the street, and other mundane activities that 'ordinary' people do. I must ask, don't you find it dreadful not to have an alalay around to 'make pasok the metro ticket into the yucky kadiri turnstile touched by the peasants"?

I see that you now live in the Borough of Kensington. Shame you live outside the palace with the unwashed masses. Had I known you were coming, I would have put you up in one of my posh friends' lodgings.

Anyways, I do pray that you are enjoying your stay in England. Fashion is a very demanding endeavour. It's all about inspiration and setting trends. I should know. I once wore a Penshoppe facetowel over the collars of my Bench T-shirt and suddenly, it became a craze copied by fashionistas from Pampanga to Cavite.

I know fully well that you need a burst of inspiration to come up with your own avant garde designs. I would like to invite you here to Oxbarrio as my guest. I'd like to show you a couple of very good exhibitions from where you can get that inspiration. I'm also an expert in women's underwear. I like those which easily come off. What do say we exchange notes?

Come to Oxbarrio and we'll walk hand in hand (for the paparazzi, imagine what being snapped with me will do for your career!) as we visit these two shows:


The works of these three Italians helped shape western post classical literature.

1. The Three Crowns Exhibit.
Oxbarrio is the most important place to learn Dante outside Florence. It owns priceless first editions of Commedia, made well before his rising stature compelled publishers to add the word "Divine". More importantly it has illuminated manuscripts having the most elaborate illustrations and finest calligraphy of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio's literary masterpieces. It even has THE Suetonius copy that Petrarch owned and scribbled on. Allow me to read for you, in my bedroom voice, passages from Boccaccio's Decameron. This erotic and sensous obra will no doubt help you in your quest of designing swimwear to flatter the female form.

2. Stella Vine
You will love Stella Vine. Saatchi does, and he knows his art. Stella paints tongue-in-cheek portraits of celebrities spanning the whole spectrum from royalty (Lady Di) to D-list (Preston and Chantelle). You should see her larger than life Lily Cole series. The Kate Moss paintings are a must-see. This is the first time that 100 of her works are in one place. We can also talk to Stella. She knows a lot about underwear. After all, before she became modern art's enfant terible, she used to be a stripper. Hmmm, perhaps she can also give us a masterclass on how to properly take off the constricting pieces of clothing that enslave us, allowing us to reveal our true selves. Wouldn't that be lovely?

Anyways, I won't take much of your time. Heavens, no. Fashion is a very demanding industry. Blink and suddenly there's a new fad.

Please have your people call my people so we can arrange your visit,

Nagmamahal, Kapuso, at Kapamilya,

The Nashman
landline : 0870 276 1455
mobile: 07789845292


One of Stella Vine's gargantuan Kate Moss paintings

An Open Letter to Angel Locsin


Does this come in the Philippine Flag?

Dear Angel,

Magandang araw!

I do not (yet) know you or have the slightest clue what you actually do but my friend sent me a link about you and I saw that you are:

1. Pretty. Very.
2. Doing an 'intensive' four week 'pashun' course in London so that you can be like J.Lo and release your own swimwear/underwear line.

In your eksklusib interbyu, you say you are enjoying your 'freedom' in London, being treated like an 'ordinary' citizen. Clips were shown with you on the Tube, riding down the escalator, walking on the street, and other mundane activities that 'ordinary' people do. I must ask, don't you find it dreadful not to have an alalay around to 'make pasok the metro ticket into the yucky kadiri turnstile touched by the peasants"?

I see that you now live in the Borough of Kensington. Shame you live outside the palace with the unwashed masses. Had I known you were coming, I would have put you up in one of my posh friends' lodgings.

Anyways, I do pray that you are enjoying your stay in England. Fashion is a very demanding endeavour. It's all about inspiration and setting trends. I should know. I once wore a Penshoppe facetowel over the collars of my Bench T-shirt and suddenly, it became a craze copied by fashionistas from Pampanga to Cavite.

I know fully well that you need a burst of inspiration to come up with your own avant garde designs. I would like to invite you here to Oxbarrio as my guest. I'd like to show you a couple of very good exhibitions from where you can get that inspiration. I'm also an expert in women's underwear. I like those which easily come off. What do say we exchange notes?

Come to Oxbarrio and we'll walk hand in hand (for the paparazzi, imagine what being snapped with me will do for your career!) as we visit these two shows:


The works of these three Italians helped shape western post classical literature.

1. The Three Crowns Exhibit.
Oxbarrio is the most important place to learn Dante outside Florence. It owns priceless first editions of Commedia, made well before his rising stature compelled publishers to add the word "Divine". More importantly it has illuminated manuscripts having the most elaborate illustrations and finest calligraphy of Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio's literary masterpieces. It even has THE Suetonius copy that Petrarch owned and scribbled on. Allow me to read for you, in my bedroom voice, passages from Boccaccio's Decameron. This erotic and sensous obra will no doubt help you in your quest of designing swimwear to flatter the female form.

2. Stella Vine
You will love Stella Vine. Saatchi does, and he knows his art. Stella paints tongue-in-cheek portraits of celebrities spanning the whole spectrum from royalty (Lady Di) to D-list (Preston and Chantelle). You should see her larger than life Lily Cole series. The Kate Moss paintings are a must-see. This is the first time that 100 of her works are in one place. We can also talk to Stella. She knows a lot about underwear. After all, before she became modern art's enfant terible, she used to be a stripper. Hmmm, perhaps she can also give us a masterclass on how to properly take off the constricting pieces of clothing that enslave us, allowing us to reveal our true selves. Wouldn't that be lovely?

Anyways, I won't take much of your time. Heavens, no. Fashion is a very demanding industry. Blink and suddenly there's a new fad.

Please have your people call my people so we can arrange your visit,

Nagmamahal, Kapuso, at Kapamilya,

The Nashman
landline : 0870 276 1455
mobile: 07789845292


One of Stella Vine's gargantuan Kate Moss paintings

The Big Move


HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit can't believe we accumulated so much garbage.

Geek babe Natalie pleads for one not to sentimentalize or romanticize the act of moving in a wonderfully eloquent and eventually ironic post.

But how can I not be sentimental? I have lived in the St. Cross Manor for three years interrupted only by two brief periods lodging elsewhere - a summer in a Victorian mansion whose more prominent tenants include various winners of Crufts as well as the then future-Crown Princess of Japan, and an autumn in Bill Clinton's old college because St. Cross Manor had a bug infestation and needed to be sprayed and quarantined. (I remember all our clothes had to be frozen to kill any bug eggs. Blame was pointed to those who went on Safari and came back with those stowaway critters.)

This small dark room hosted many decadent parties and orgies, the walls reverberated with boisterous laughter, and the bed and carpet spoiled with countless types and sources of bodily fluids and illicit drugs that if this were a crime scene in CSI, they'd need a whole season to process it.

I will also miss the convenience of being right smack in the centre of Oxbarrio - two minutes on foot to the pubs, five minutes to college, eight minutes to my lab, and three minutes to the river Cherwell.

I now live in a place at the edge of the bubble. I guess this is a good thing, apart from the very minor risk of my testicles being damaged from the long cycle ride. Oxbarrio has a very strong Reality Distortion Field that drops exponentially away from the centre. I need to be weaned slowly before finally breaking out of this bubble into the real world.


Eventually, we managed to move all the shit to our new place. When we think about it, we only ever really need to keep four important things: our integrity, The Nashman's passport, the Macbook (mainly what's inside the hard drive), and the unbreakable bond that HRO Karl Willem, PA/PR Gromit, and The Nashman share.

HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit, sleep one last time at St. Cross Manor.

....and all that is left is this. But mark our words, when we become famous like F-listers Gretchen Barreto or Ruffa Gutierrez, the National Trust will put a blue plaque outside this room saying how a naive but loveable Igorot from the mean slums of Baguio started his path to greatness here..(actually, Cambridge might stake their own claim to recruiting me first, but then again, there is a reason I defected...)

The gate to our new place. The uberBlonde graciously went to and fro twice so we can move.....

...our junk from there to here.....

....seriously, we can survive without all this garbage.

At the end of the day, even rubber ducky was very tired from all the shuttling and carrying shit up three flights of stairs. We needed a relaxing warm water soak....

The Nashman in a relaxed state.

The Big Move


HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit can't believe we accumulated so much garbage.

Geek babe Natalie pleads for one not to sentimentalize or romanticize the act of moving in a wonderfully eloquent and eventually ironic post.

But how can I not be sentimental? I have lived in the St. Cross Manor for three years interrupted only by two brief periods lodging elsewhere - a summer in a Victorian mansion whose more prominent tenants include various winners of Crufts as well as the then future-Crown Princess of Japan, and an autumn in Bill Clinton's old college because St. Cross Manor had a bug infestation and needed to be sprayed and quarantined. (I remember all our clothes had to be frozen to kill any bug eggs. Blame was pointed to those who went on Safari and came back with those stowaway critters.)

This small dark room hosted many decadent parties and orgies, the walls reverberated with boisterous laughter, and the bed and carpet spoiled with countless types and sources of bodily fluids and illicit drugs that if this were a crime scene in CSI, they'd need a whole season to process it.

I will also miss the convenience of being right smack in the centre of Oxbarrio - two minutes on foot to the pubs, five minutes to college, eight minutes to my lab, and three minutes to the river Cherwell.

I now live in a place at the edge of the bubble. I guess this is a good thing, apart from the very minor risk of my testicles being damaged from the long cycle ride. Oxbarrio has a very strong Reality Distortion Field that drops exponentially away from the centre. I need to be weaned slowly before finally breaking out of this bubble into the real world.


Eventually, we managed to move all the shit to our new place. When we think about it, we only ever really need to keep four important things: our integrity, The Nashman's passport, the Macbook (mainly what's inside the hard drive), and the unbreakable bond that HRO Karl Willem, PA/PR Gromit, and The Nashman share.

HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit, sleep one last time at St. Cross Manor.

....and all that is left is this. But mark our words, when we become famous like F-listers Gretchen Barreto or Ruffa Gutierrez, the National Trust will put a blue plaque outside this room saying how a naive but loveable Igorot from the mean slums of Baguio started his path to greatness here..(actually, Cambridge might stake their own claim to recruiting me first, but then again, there is a reason I defected...)

The gate to our new place. The uberBlonde graciously went to and fro twice so we can move.....

...our junk from there to here.....

....seriously, we can survive without all this garbage.

At the end of the day, even rubber ducky was very tired from all the shuttling and carrying shit up three flights of stairs. We needed a relaxing warm water soak....

The Nashman in a relaxed state.

Bali 2007 Day 2 - Kuta to Uluwatu

woke up and was informed by the reception guy that Joker, Jos and Kechique (in the other room) had gone out earlier to the beach.  damn!...kene tinggal siott!...so latebirds sedi,scott and me followed suit to find 'em to no avail. as u can see...the beach was already full of people 

  walk towards one end of the beach, where a famous western propaganda-franchised hotel is located

Head back to our room. Apparently the other guys has started packing. After a quick goat-shower later, all of us had brunch at the same place we ate dinner last nite. 

Our journey today bring us to Uluwatu, the southern most-tip of the island where we xperienced the Dreamland Beach, Padang-Padang and Uluwatu Cliff Temple had to offer

approximately after an-hour drive, we arrived at our first stop

we must go down from a hill to reach the beach, through cliffs, houses and chalets (some still under construction).... but when you are there, you will never regret it.

Dreamland 02Dreamland 03Dreamland 04Dreamland 05Dreamland 06Dreamland 07Dreamland 08Dreamland 09

very nice and hot...so some cold drinks up the terrace is an obvious move

Continue our journey to the nearby Padang-Padang, where we check-in at the newly-opened 'Guna Mandala Inn' [check out the brand-new rooms...not bad for a RM60 per room per nite ...(RM20 if you divide for 3 person per room)]

our final stop of the day...which proved to be spectacular.

The view of the cliff is simple breathtaking, looking at the tiredless waves throwing themselves at the rock and the sweet smell of fresh air sweep in from the vast Indian Ocean.

We manage to arrive just before sunset, just in time to watch the Kecak Dance (aka Kecak Ramayana & Fire Dance). They say that every visitor to Bali should see at least one dance and if you plan to see only one then this should be it.

The dance consists of 5 set of acts, a combination of ancient ritual, dance & drama accompanied by a choir of chanting and singing men and women (..does it sounds like 'Sandiwara Semasa' show u've seen on TV? :)

Kecak dance 03Kecak dance 04Kecak dance 05Kecak dance 06Kecak dance 07Kecak dance 08Kecak dance 09Kecak dance 10Kecak dance 11Kecak dance 12Kecak dance 13Kecak dance 14

check out the short clip of the dance (note: for smooth viewing, pls let it buffer till end and then replay) 

While the crowd was enjoying the whole proceedings, somebody detected a babe...(no..not me...i'm innocent)

The chance to take photos with Uluwatu Temple celebrities will not come to you everyday, so an aftermath chaotic pix session ensured...

 

Baliwood stars 02Baliwood stars 03Baliwood stars 04Baliwood stars 05Baliwood stars 06Baliwood stars 07Baliwood stars 08Scottie and ceweks temple

........and the Oscar for 'Most Versatile Actor' goes to......................The Monkey

So it was a fitting end to the day...drove back to our rooms in Padang-Padang and had dinner at a nearby restaurant.

 

     end of day 2