Mixed Nuts

The week's colour is Blue for Les Bleus and Gli Azzurri.

It's been so hot and humid in Middle Earth that I'm forced to sleep in my birthday suit without a blanket with all my windows open. I love the cold showers though.

Is it just me or have Maria Sharapova's grunts in Wimbledon turned from erotic to really ear piercing annoying?It's been measured at 130 decibels. That's numerically twice the speed of my second serve. The BBC coverage is the best! You can watch all the matches live on your computer so you can still go to the office and pretend to be working hard while cutie Henin-Hardenne works the baseline. Got Wifi? Even better.

Mi dispiace. Ti amo Italia. His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem and me love Italy and go there every so often for holiday. Yet, we are rooting for Zizou the Sorcerer to win the World Cup. At the beginning of the tournament, no one expected the snail-eating garlic breath Les Bleus to go this far. They have, and I hope they win.

I have not really paid attention, but is Lance Armstrong still racing in this year's Tour de France? Pop quiz: On which side of the saddle does Lance let his one testicle hang? Just out of curiosity.

The bad news last Sunday. Pretty boy Ronaldo winked and talented Shrek got a red card and got sent off. This world cup Portugal team is playing in the wrong sport. In their match versus France, Big Phil's boys were doing synchronized diving as if they were fishing for bacalao.

Now, this is class. You won't see this in Buy and Sell.

I nearly followed Posh Spice' one cucumber slice a day diet but I realised that I'm three months preggers. So I need to eat at least 3000 calories a day. (Posh Spice is out of this planet thin. I wonder how Beckham feels like each night shagging nothing but pelvic bone?)

Me and the three hour siesta under the shade.

Happy Birthday Gina! Now, I am not ashamed to admit that I went to Swiss Finishing school to polish my social graces but when the waiter at Fisher's laid out my cubiertos I freaked out. Do you really need that oyster fork? Man, I come from Las Islas Filipinas. In them islands, we slurp our oysters from the shell noh.

Mixed Nuts

The week's colour is Blue for Les Bleus and Gli Azzurri.

It's been so hot and humid in Middle Earth that I'm forced to sleep in my birthday suit without a blanket with all my windows open. I love the cold showers though.

Is it just me or have Maria Sharapova's grunts in Wimbledon turned from erotic to really ear piercing annoying?It's been measured at 130 decibels. That's numerically twice the speed of my second serve. The BBC coverage is the best! You can watch all the matches live on your computer so you can still go to the office and pretend to be working hard while cutie Henin-Hardenne works the baseline. Got Wifi? Even better.

Mi dispiace. Ti amo Italia. His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem and me love Italy and go there every so often for holiday. Yet, we are rooting for Zizou the Sorcerer to win the World Cup. At the beginning of the tournament, no one expected the snail-eating garlic breath Les Bleus to go this far. They have, and I hope they win.

I have not really paid attention, but is Lance Armstrong still racing in this year's Tour de France? Pop quiz: On which side of the saddle does Lance let his one testicle hang? Just out of curiosity.

The bad news last Sunday. Pretty boy Ronaldo winked and talented Shrek got a red card and got sent off. This world cup Portugal team is playing in the wrong sport. In their match versus France, Big Phil's boys were doing synchronized diving as if they were fishing for bacalao.

Now, this is class. You won't see this in Buy and Sell.

I nearly followed Posh Spice' one cucumber slice a day diet but I realised that I'm three months preggers. So I need to eat at least 3000 calories a day. (Posh Spice is out of this planet thin. I wonder how Beckham feels like each night shagging nothing but pelvic bone?)

Me and the three hour siesta under the shade.

Happy Birthday Gina! Now, I am not ashamed to admit that I went to Swiss Finishing school to polish my social graces but when the waiter at Fisher's laid out my cubiertos I freaked out. Do you really need that oyster fork? Man, I come from Las Islas Filipinas. In them islands, we slurp our oysters from the shell noh.

Another 48 hours

9am: Hil, me, and the girl from Ringgu ride the metro. Surely there is something wrong going on here. The underground train was empty and when Ringgu girl got off, another girl came and instead of taking a seat, stood in front of me and started reading mangga. That was freak yo'.

10am. Hil was more than happy to be dumped in Shibuya to go shopping while I went to the Hachiko crossing to meet Aubrey, my old school nemesis/crush. She was the Beast to my Beauty. The Ike to my Tina......the Thorn to my Rose. Who would have thought that after a very bitter and bloody separation, we got over our hangups and decided that "Hey, let's meet up..." We met, hugged, and took a long walk. HRO Karl Willem however was hungry and picked some lethal fugu.

12pm. Ok WTF is this? Why am I eating this junk in Tokyo? Well, since Aubrey and I were reminiscing about our past life and violent shortlived relationship in Baguio, how appropriate that we stumbled upon Shakey's!! Suddenly we were back in the 80s! (Can anyone tell me if there is still a Shakey's in Baguio?)

2pm. Aubrey and I went to Harajuku (which deserves a separate diary entry because of the fabulous freak show out there) and took a walk in the park. We talked about life in general, how she has moved on, how I have moved on, and how most of the girls I've met since then were just after my money and good looks. (I'm vomiting as I write this.)

3pm: Shamed and Named for dumping The Nashman. Paparazzi shot of Aubrey. As you can see, after all these years, she is still fit. She quit her job in Sydney just to be with her boyfriend in Tokyo who is training for the 2008 Olympics in Judo. Now ain't that true love? They're also starting a web company of which I am now an overpriced consultant. I'm happy for her.


4pm. Aubrey and I went to Shinjuku. The old market was awesome. Lots of creepy crawlies from the sea and discount stores. I love this place. It's truly Asia.

5pm: Aubrey and I walked to the Ryokan in Asakusa and picked up Hil who was grinning from ear to ear from all the shopping she did.

6pm: We crossed the Azuma bridge and walked along the Sumida River to Aubrey's place in Morishita. That building is the Asahi Brewery HQ designed by Philippe Starck. I agree with the Japs, although it's supposed to look like beer froth, it's more golden turd to me.

8pm: The three of us had excellent Okonomiyake. The only Japanese food that Hil truly enjoyed. The chef was a very amiable man. We wanted to cook the okonomiyake ourselves but one look at Hil and the chef said something like "Yeah, right......I'm not going to let you mess this up. I'll do it in the proper way myself." After dinner, Aubrey's beau, Dave, joined us for coffee. Hil and I tried to explain to Aubrey and Dave why Australia is Chav-land but there was a big language barrier. They could not quite get it.

7am: I'm going to miss sleeping on the tatami mat but I'm not going to miss the boiling communal bath. I swear you could cook vegetables in it. Hil suggested we trash our room like true rock stars but hey, it's made of paper. It's just not fair.

9am: His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem boards the Narita express. We will be coming back next year for a longer stay - less business, more pleasure. At check-in, the counter girl took TWO minutes to sort our boarding cards and APOLOGISED PROFUSELY for taking TOO LONG to do it. Hil, being Brit, and me being Flipinoy, were just staring at her puzzled "Eh?". We're used to simple tasks like this taking three centuries to be completed. We tried to explain to the counter girl to put down the sword because she has not dishonored her family. Really, we were not that bothered that it took her 2 minutes........(blood splatter on my face as counter girl commits seppuku)