tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8934328559856782572024-03-13T15:19:46.676+08:00A Number Between 1 and BananaIt's like deja vu all over again.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-1068546035884414942013-05-14T23:29:00.002+08:002013-05-14T23:29:51.235+08:00Lucidity not really<br />
Hey. How goes it? Yeah, sorry. It's been a while. It took one helluva weird/bad/sad dream to push me back into my quaint little blog, but hey, this could be good, right?<br /><br />Anywho, my dreams are usually the most nondescript kind <i>(hence, me not really talking about them)</i>, save for that rarely occurring Zombie apocalypse kind where I literally respawn in my bed, only to die numerous times before waking up. Fun.<br />
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I never found myself gasping for air, or waking up in a cold sweat. Dreams never really bothered me. They were actually simple enough that I soon forgot 'em on the same day. Not this time, though. Ever wondered what would happen if you took some heavy, family-oriented drama and threw it in a blender with genetic anomalies and unexplained scientific phenomena? Heck, me neither. But I guess this one came close.<br />
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I seemingly reverted back to a kiddo, roughly 6 or 7 years old. Most of my surroundings were blurry, but the details of my room were flawless, down to the untidy desk I use on a daily basis. I didn't know if I retained all my memories or if my mind regressed along with my then kiddie-esque body. I was certain about the regression because my clothes were pretty damn huge.<br />
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I could remember were parents talking to each other in hushed tones in front of me. Mom was quietly sobbing and Dad was comforting her in his usual tone, assuring that everything will be all right. At this point, I was pretty much clueless until he made his way towards me. He stooped down to where I was seated, looked me in the eyes and put his hand on my head. Quoting in verbatim is, and always will be my bane but I think I got it right this time around.<br /><i><br />"Anak, wag kang mag alala. Palalakihin ka uli namin ng mommy mo. Kami na ang bahala.</i>" Then, he smiled; smiled unlike any other time I saw him smile in my life. It was strange. It was rather nice.<br />
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I woke up. Manly tears were flowing. Sorry, pillow.<br />
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I'm not quite sure what struck me so much emotionally; the fact that I was a kid and had to relive the horrors of teenhood again <i>(no, I didn't check if my wee wee was cut)</i>, the idea of my parents having to laboriously raise me a second time at their ripe, old age, or the loving comfort of knowing that they actually would...given their ripe, old age. <br /><br />I'll probably find out in the future, but I'll try my best to stop thinking too much about it. Manly tears can only do so much when you're having a busy 8-hour shift.<br /><br />In any case, thanks for dropping by.<br />
Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-18572041235557059322012-11-28T23:16:00.001+08:002012-11-28T23:16:22.221+08:00Even mediocrity needs a reopening.To save you all the agony of reading through mindless rambling and incoherence which actually makes up my normal thought process, I'll just cut to the chase.<br />
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I've been meaning to go back to this blog of mine; to sweep away the cobwebs, tidy up a bit, repaint the ceiling, and feed the diabolical demon-squirrels that I keep in the cupboard (nut-munchers). Being tied up by all kinds of responsibilities <i>(excuses),</i> I've found it a tad difficult to even think about logging in and letting the creative juices flow. Yes, what I just typed DID sound a bit inappropriate, but I digress...<br />
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Given the fact that my blog typically runs on agony, hatred, and copious amounts of misfortune, it's been rather tough to sit down and write, having been living a rather normal life for the longest time. We can't have it all, I know. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwg5H1R5h4g2Npg5BsEF63yWAQUzRr8DJH9ASh00KGShMlrIP2BFedFIXa6OEfAU9kmDCY2NfoSMQ4pue0PubinrD3GkSSYdYOSDEWj_SbQcucFtXD1BWf-zoAyhPLGilBAfVzXP_bvRU/s1600/kenshiro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwg5H1R5h4g2Npg5BsEF63yWAQUzRr8DJH9ASh00KGShMlrIP2BFedFIXa6OEfAU9kmDCY2NfoSMQ4pue0PubinrD3GkSSYdYOSDEWj_SbQcucFtXD1BWf-zoAyhPLGilBAfVzXP_bvRU/s320/kenshiro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Carlos: Circa 2008</span><br />
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This could probably be something good, on account of I don't get to read a lot. My brain cells are beaten, burned, and utterly destroyed on a daily basis thanks to my job, and I suppose blogging would be the best way to jump start the old think-tank. It could also help show everyone how mentally damaged yet emotionally stable <i>(LOL)</i> I've become since my teenage years. I'll be needing the sympathy, after all.<br />
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Cheerio!<br />
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<br />Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-7495304077977989382011-04-26T00:19:00.000+08:002011-04-26T00:19:40.777+08:00Oh, say it isn't so.So, given the tomfoolery I've been busy with during the holiday, I'd like to share a probable, and hopefully lucrative business prospect I've come up with. I'd call it Tom-Bookery, but that would just be stupid.<br />
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Lo, and behold. My possible first, and most likely last bestselling (or not) D.I.Y handbook:<br />
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<b><i>How to waste a perfectly good weekend: and other stuff you shouldn't be doing, you dumb fuck.</i></b><br />
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Seems a bit long for a title, but the idea's always there. It'll grow on you.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-70757559041566543422011-04-02T16:40:00.003+08:002011-04-02T17:09:33.044+08:00Uhm. Yeah. Hi.<div>So, here it is. The great resurrection and re-unveiling of my not-so-awesome if not horribly distasteful blog.</div><div><div><br /></div><div>Being a year older, supposedly a year wiser, and in theory, a much better writer, please do not look forward to any random acts of awesomeness which might so happen to spring forth from this webpage. Until my mojo charges back to 100%, my entries will have this uncontrollable tendency to suck balls and reek of immature angst.</div><div><br /></div><div>In any case, I can at least assure a bit more consistency for the meantime. And now, I leave you with Taeyeon from SNSD's reaction when she found out I was bringing my blog back.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgTDBfp-s4Ti3UwbwNvof8fAudBKeZMMmyEbqUKqWHVz_49W8fZuuRUqA13zOKoJVLBrAxYA9VJLQl1jXy2TELT04e2TUB6RX-cExJHqDQheFvQvbFtxapabnNihWFzHZEo8HFBu0FmA/s1600/taeyeon.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 264px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKgTDBfp-s4Ti3UwbwNvof8fAudBKeZMMmyEbqUKqWHVz_49W8fZuuRUqA13zOKoJVLBrAxYA9VJLQl1jXy2TELT04e2TUB6RX-cExJHqDQheFvQvbFtxapabnNihWFzHZEo8HFBu0FmA/s320/taeyeon.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590909408808525570" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I can ASSUME she's happy.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-29603096044551009702010-04-10T23:19:00.001+08:002010-04-10T23:20:19.605+08:00Daddy's homeIt's been THAT long ago? Jeez. I think I just lost my mojo.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-57176876593549644312009-07-26T18:53:00.003+08:002009-07-26T19:24:40.739+08:00Since HP6 is all the rage...As we take a gander at this year's adaptation of the Harry Potter series, we take time to remember those who didn't quite make it to the actual film. To top things off, we have Mr. Avada Kedavra, Tommy Boy, he-who-shall-not-yet-always-does-get-mentioned, the good ole' Lord Voldemort himself. In hindsight, we have the late Cedric Diggory, who by some bizarre, yet totally pro-fangirly twist of fate, re-emerged as the teenybopper sensation, Edward Cullen. So, where the hell are they as HP6 commences?<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDKCwNCx25tFgf6jW-tyB2e54O5n0Vjr2W53FNGsD8x0MC9RiuW5Zpa7zxiQvIFfXILeHJHeI-pwivfGwtcvxgF_c64hjgaWiOtdRM4rF8aI98jChWUWHlDBgC1joSo_fclwO-lUgBuc/s1600-h/pxoBEq7QeofrlfgiZsOCHklRo1_500.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLDKCwNCx25tFgf6jW-tyB2e54O5n0Vjr2W53FNGsD8x0MC9RiuW5Zpa7zxiQvIFfXILeHJHeI-pwivfGwtcvxgF_c64hjgaWiOtdRM4rF8aI98jChWUWHlDBgC1joSo_fclwO-lUgBuc/s320/pxoBEq7QeofrlfgiZsOCHklRo1_500.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362720447319782306" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, there they are.</span><br /><br />Never saw THAT coming. So, what's next?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0wDM5EctySCgeRRGO_j83cvtEsH-jQXMFJw-YJR6iZZT5B6XHb1SKVXfhNS1My3sHIjVHnN_xiYCBEQlBBT5En7h9xw1Ivww5R4spqXwfxSZTf0bOZosNJY5oyJ4QljI1Kozsd7ATSw/s1600-h/5360_114446436075_712986075_2762982_6692510_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL0wDM5EctySCgeRRGO_j83cvtEsH-jQXMFJw-YJR6iZZT5B6XHb1SKVXfhNS1My3sHIjVHnN_xiYCBEQlBBT5En7h9xw1Ivww5R4spqXwfxSZTf0bOZosNJY5oyJ4QljI1Kozsd7ATSw/s320/5360_114446436075_712986075_2762982_6692510_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362725913489361554" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Killing curse? Screw that. Wesley Snipes'll do you in...<br /><br />Do you in GOOD.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cheers.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">http://fuckyeahvoldemort.tumblr.com</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">aaaand I forgot that site Bill used to get the Blade pic</span><br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-44875286522785223962009-07-08T08:29:00.005+08:002009-07-13T14:16:13.291+08:00If the folks say so, then do so<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MTvcxbGZmfskBrK444sQejLnJSS3M5QEofmFStdheUiX_dHZNALIZZjcXBNv1xdxkOJRjk30LJBAgy29zdizJDPgcmV54PSEiRToQqz6uALYg3hD9idI_jgPwjGMgXxqpdKVI7MErOA/s1600-h/15fkgsl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MTvcxbGZmfskBrK444sQejLnJSS3M5QEofmFStdheUiX_dHZNALIZZjcXBNv1xdxkOJRjk30LJBAgy29zdizJDPgcmV54PSEiRToQqz6uALYg3hD9idI_jgPwjGMgXxqpdKVI7MErOA/s320/15fkgsl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355880134062090898" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">No, dad indeed.<br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-61877566008905237182009-06-26T11:29:00.002+08:002009-06-26T11:36:10.643+08:00The NecromancerHello, everyone. It feels a tad peculiar to be back, but nevertheless, good.<br /><br />Slump's gone, sun is shining, and I'm back to my jolly, overweight self.<br /><br />Yup, everything is coming full circle, and getting back to normal. :)Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-45596898478389760162009-04-19T20:41:00.005+08:002009-04-19T21:29:59.788+08:00Lower than dirtOoh, the audacity.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Check out this entry about a particular </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">JC Candare</span><span style="font-style: italic;">: bottom feeder extraordinaire.</span><br /><br /><a href="http://www.newmedia.com.ph/serial-up-cat-killer-enraging-filipino-online-community/"><span style="font-style: italic;">http://www.newmedia.com.ph/serial-up-cat-killer-enraging-filipino-online-community/</span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">His blog. T'was up and running a few days ago. Must've turned tail and ran.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://myperfectsymmetry.multiply.com/journal/item/24/untitled">http://myperfectsymmetry.multiply.com/journal/item/24/untitled</a><br /><br />The lame ass scum defender<br /><br /><a href="http://akosibentumbling.multiply.com/"><span style="font-style: italic;">http://akosibentumbling.multiply.com/</span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh,and a little something from the good guys.</span><br /><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.davidvgonzales.com/tag/serial-cat-killer/"><br />http://www.davidvgonzales.com/tag/serial-cat-killer/</a><br /><br />I'm no PETA or WWF devotee, but something this horrible is worth a good fatal beating. Hell, and I'm not talking about your typical puny, blow-off steam, friendly tomorrow, after school fistfight.<br /><br />I won't bother tossing around my thoughts any further since a huge chunk of the Philippine online community already wants his head on a spike. I guess the poor sap would mind reconsidering his actions, or at least have the common sense to keep his twisted hobby to himself.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-85256650466294204292009-04-11T23:20:00.003+08:002009-04-11T23:30:13.550+08:00A much needed thwack on the backYes indeed, hooray for the fact that my sad, lame excuse for a blog has reached 1,000 hits after 68 years.<br /><br />Fear not, dear patrons as I will take stride in coming up with even more lousy entries, tasteless raves, nonsensical posts, and dim-witted randomness, thus raising the bar of bland loutishness that is myself. Quite charming indeed. Like a pack of cigarettes.<br /><br />Cheerio, all.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-26210200739242240462009-04-07T23:26:00.002+08:002009-04-07T23:32:25.537+08:00Just why Gaiman is made of awesome<span style="font-weight: bold;">“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">-Neil Gaiman</span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-54501024121700837142009-02-24T19:22:00.013+08:002009-03-02T08:57:38.293+08:00The staleness that is me<div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><a onblur="" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17XtCuKa08OVoRo07Nu6g6Zvr0BGJNxLr_vIz0t7ozHLpB9oYfNN520Hu-eMWI9QpqCzatDTxZo7T-J-Otxn7i4xZgArlDhxO4YpmjRnor8YW6lOnIHDtbVBHeSkgsG8uPQcyZ5yLLjo/s1600-h/292549104_bb5f7e926a_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj17XtCuKa08OVoRo07Nu6g6Zvr0BGJNxLr_vIz0t7ozHLpB9oYfNN520Hu-eMWI9QpqCzatDTxZo7T-J-Otxn7i4xZgArlDhxO4YpmjRnor8YW6lOnIHDtbVBHeSkgsG8uPQcyZ5yLLjo/s320/292549104_bb5f7e926a_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306325534003148594" border="0" /></a><br />Whatever.<br /><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-66578143170194999032009-01-15T21:58:00.005+08:002009-01-15T22:17:01.991+08:00Je ne sais quoi and all that shit<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Fucking chapped lips. Autobleeding and it ain't funny.</span><br /></div><br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-80839325411512317222008-12-29T17:44:00.001+08:002008-12-29T17:46:58.074+08:00Buh Buh Buh BAAAAAAAYUD!!!<span style="font-style: italic;">Can't quite remember where I got this. Just found it in one of my folders, in notepad format.</span><br /><br /><br />Once upon a time, there were four people;<br /><br />Their names were Everybody, Somebody, Nobody and Anybody.<br /><br />Whenever there was an important job to be done, Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it.<br />When Nobody did it, Everybody got angry because it was Everybody's job.<br />Everybody thought that Somebody would do it, but Nobody realized that Nobody would do it. So consequently Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done in the first place.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-62208462317383725442008-12-23T21:44:00.003+08:002009-04-17T19:26:10.495+08:009 nights moreYear two of my simbang gabi moments.<br /><br />Day nine ended in a wet drizzle, much to the dismay of the nightly commute. Now, I guess it's time to get with the superstitious<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> (though widely practiced...even by myself)</span> program and make that wish.<br /><br />The future remains uncertain, and the past will always willingly unleash mind-wracking regret whenever it has a chance. Despite the uncertainty and randomness of everyday life, I always find myself caught in a sense of intrigue, if not confusion. Not because almost everyday contains its own dose of boredom <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">(How intriguing, eh?)</span>, but rather, I literally learn something new each day.<br /><br />I'm thankful for another year, simply for the fact that I'm still breathing. I need not count my blessings, as a myriad they truly are. I'm alive. I can look up at the sky, reach for the sun, and dream. It's all hunky-dory peachy from where I'm standing.<br /><br />Screw the future. It hasn't even been made yet.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I love my<span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">LIFE</span>, I love my <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">WORLD</span>.<br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-90993120740147580612008-11-30T19:31:00.009+08:002008-12-01T23:37:21.396+08:00The times you ask God, WHY?It's quite amazing how the mind works in the wee hours of the morning. Even more amazing is what six straight hours of half-baked, seemingly coerced music could do to your body.<br /><br />Music is something beautiful. I intend to keep this little rant-esque entry as brief as possible. Tally-ho.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Live Music: Eight random points to brood upon:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">1. Icing : Cake / Vocalist : Band</span><br /><br />- Now, there's a myriad of great bands out there, complete with the much required passion, gusto, and mad skills. True enough, some would believe that an insane guitar virtuoso or mad slapping speed bassist would be enough to bring a band to rock glory. In this case, I say nay.<br /><br />If a vocalist sings like your resident drunkard, compares to your high school declamation champ, or is no other than Jayson Fernandez, then there's definitely something wrong. Yes, an obvious, and quite irritating problem nowadays.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">2. In a charity concert, you get your money's worth.</span><br /><br />- I'm not insinuating that they're in it for the money, but honestly, who plays for free? I'd say for every fifty really good bands, only three would wholeheartedly play free of charge. So, what about the other eighteen slots for the concert of twenty one acts? It's a little something called mediocrity. It's everywhere. It scares me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">3. The Ramones are Punk, you are not.</span><br /><br />- Teenagers nowadays find sped up versions of old, mushy love songs quite "hip" and "cool", much to the dismay of the older generation and other teenagers who know better. It's this kind of travesty that really grinds my jellybeans.<br /><br />Playing "It might be you" in doubled speed isn't something pleasant. To tell you the truth, I can't think of anything more ridiculous to compare it with. See how it impairs my thinking? Getting hit by a parked car pales in comparison to this sort of bullshit. At least I get a good laugh out of it. Hehe, funny parked car.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">4. There's more to awesome than stock knowledge</span>.</span><br /><br />- Having diverse knowledge and distinct taste in music is definitely an advantage. This sets you apart from the newbies, posers, and dumbarses, kicking you up a notch on that ladder of music know-how.<br /><br />This however, is not enough. You may be an avid fan of Rage Against the Machine, but to even think about attempting to cover these songs without having the slightest idea of how capable you are is somewhat...unexplainable. So, before you go out there to emulate Zack de la Rocha, make sure you can live up to the name, or at least sing decently.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">5. Oh shit, it's the fog!!!</span><br /><br />- If you're a fan of the band Join the Club, then you must know that they recently joined another club; the Obscure Lethargic Almost Terminated Sessionists, or <span style="font-weight: bold;">OLATS.</span><br /><br />Citing a certain instance last night during the particular charity shindig I've been ranting about, they were supposedly one of the twenty one bands to play. Despite their obscurity and lack of talent, they did show up early in the evening. As expected, no one cared.<br /><br />Surprisingly, they disappeared later on, never to be seen during the remainder of the concert. Now, how obscure can one get, right? Yeah, I thought so.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">6. Teenagers nowadays..</span>.<br /><br />- I won't elaborate on this point, seeing how sad the situation is. Just use your imagination, do the math, then go figure.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;">7. Original turf = SUPERSTARDOM</span><br /><br />- Just a little observation. Quite predictable, actually.<br /><br />No matter how much you suffer from points <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">1, 3</span> and <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">4,</span> as long as you're a prominent guy with a half-decent band on your own turf, the audience members will literally wipe the sweat off your face and frame the wet towel in their own little shrine. Creepy much? Embrace it. No one else will think you're cool anyway.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">8. Leave to Hayley what is meant for Hayley, especially if your name is George.</span><br /><br />- My own little pet peeve; role reversals which end in disaster.<br /><br />This applies to songs from every female band which have that much fame in the teenage generation. Covering songs is fun and all, most especially in the company of your band, in the privacy of a rehearsal studio. Much better if you can pull it off with your own twist, thus giving a distinct sound.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Misery Business</span> was never meant to be sung live by pre-pubescent boys. Better yet, it wasn't meant to be sung AT ALL by pre-pubescent boys. Yes, your testicles may not have dropped yet, but no matter how high up those balls are, you're still no Hayley Williams.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">Point Zero -</span><br /><br />- Giniling Festival is <span style="font-weight: bold;">ALWAYS</span> worth the wait. Whether it be the long dragging hour waiting for the first act, or the six hours of auditory madness before the last, which ever place you put them, they steal the show. See you guys at the UP Fair.<br /><br />Bah. Baloney. So, this ends my little bashfest.<br /><br />Crappy as the night may have seemed, it took just one person to turn things around 180. <span style="font-style: italic;">Sensya na medyo lanta yung mga bulaklak, si Bruce kasi eh. XD</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">IHYMH</span> XDJuan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-14158622933197248662008-11-19T12:17:00.000+08:002008-11-19T12:18:44.100+08:00Afternoon delight<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kk91uPJO3kI&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Kk91uPJO3kI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ubos.</span><br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-62567662376539821562008-11-16T19:18:00.002+08:002008-11-16T19:22:05.322+08:00Take FiveNothing flashy, nothing articulate, nothing witty, nothing boggling, nothing beautiful, nothing artsy, nothing interesting, nothing relevant, nothing good, nothing to see.<br /><br />Nothing at all.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-47938634153738664412008-11-05T22:38:00.000+08:002008-11-05T22:41:07.006+08:00Whippity SlipFor twenty years, much has been evident in this blurred field of vision. The bewilderment offered by uncertainty, even more by the unknown. Forever cloaked in a mysterious enigma of sugar-coated taffylike bittersweetness. Scrumptious goodness masking the acidic core of rage and despair.<br /><br />Forever have I yearned for the transcendence of mind offered by much time dwelling in silence and solitude, steadily listening to the wind. At times a violent gale, though overlapped by the calmness of a summer breeze. The wind merely blows upon my soul, causing nothing else but a slight chill.<br /><br />For a score have I been aware of everything, keen in almost all senses, my mind in perfect rhythm with every single thought, bubbling endlessly into a parallel universe.<br /><br />For once, I honestly don't get it.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-12509354035817937792008-11-04T22:39:00.000+08:002008-11-05T07:00:34.266+08:00Kindled SkyDarkness of the ceiling.<br /><br />It started off with a vibration from under my pillow. I scoffed at my cellphone's alarm and got ready to doze off for a few more minutes.<br /><br />I couldn't afford to be late this time. Strike three, and they'll be off with my head.<br /><br />It was already 5 o'clock, and the sun was still seemingly fast asleep. Orange light from the lamp post crept across the front lawn, onto the window sill, giving me that weak sense of security at night. My room was chilly and dark; lifeless, let alone the tiny night light flickering in the corner to an eerie rhythm. Just like every morning, just the way I like it.<br /><br />Breakfast was out of the question. A quick shower was on the agenda as I hurriedly prepared my daily belongings, zipping through the house. The tepid water was such sweet gratification in such a morning gone awry, making me forget why I even bother to wake up so early, why I even bother to earn for my own ass, why I even bother...period.<br /><br />With the faucet's knob tightened, I snap back into reality.<br /><br />Concluding my morning rituals, I bid the family farewell. Plugging in my earphones, I set off to the big city. Making a living can be tedious. It's like clockwork. Every day's a new day, but you know damn well it'll be the same.<br /><br />I took the usual path towards the first part of my dawn trip. A short walk down the street, a quick jeepney ride, and an eternity of waiting at the bus stop.<br /><br />Humming to Audioslave's Be Yourself, I kept my cool among the other irate morning travelers. I slowly closed my eyes and bobbed my head to the drumbeat of each verse; tapping my shoe to the distorted chorus. The song kept me at bay for a while, Chris Cornell was a lifesaver...but for how long? Feeling my fist clenched tightly for a whole twenty minutes with the song looped, I had reached my limit. I prepared to let out a yell of frustration, careless of whoever would fall victim to my noise.<br /><br />The bus arrived...just in time.<br /><br />For the longest two hours of my life, I was smothered in-between the bodies of hurried people, desperately squeezing themselves into the bus aisle. Noisy and whiny, incurring my piss-hatred by the minute. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I don't know what the big rush is, it's not like their offices will leave them or anything. Jerks.</span> Yes, the morning angst blurred my common sense in such a comical fashion.<br /><br />Ah yes, the towers peeked from the horizon, signifying how damn close I was to getting to work. I put away my MP3 player, lazily rolling the phones around the metal body for safe keeping. I got ready to alight the bus.<br /><br />A few passengers including myself slowly moved towards the exit, one by one onto the main road. I stared blankly at the steps, at the concrete, then to my right...<br /><br />A truck careened into the side of the bus, toppling the mammoth automobile like a pile of wood. A flurry of sparks and flying debris sent everyone into a stampede of panic, turning the otherwise quiet morning into a riot.<br /><br />I was still dazed, feeling a warm, piercing pain on my left arm. I dared not look.<br /><br />I slumped down beside a concrete wall, clutching my left arm in fear. I stared at the morning sky in its bright orange hue, beckoning me into a fiery abyss, so lovely...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Next time, I'm having breakfast.</span>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-78264525101199943362008-11-04T11:30:00.000+08:002008-11-04T11:34:33.129+08:00They call me Peaches<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cyborg.namedecoder.com/"><img src="http://cyborg.namedecoder.com/webimages/edox-KILLER.png" alt="Kinetic Intelligent Lifeform Limited to Efficient Repair" width="240" border="0" height="180" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="font-weight: normal;">The irony of it all</span></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-17955649490787100852008-10-09T11:28:00.000+08:002008-10-09T11:30:45.518+08:00Username and Password please?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosgNQz1wQ9HzDHH2loc6LMIKhjD4fKneBBMiYfEdB2Cs2IvPEUK6SRPGbrMWYVd-6CUi_cO4DjCZqw2UkvvNr6sG88RobH7SJ_j2GdA6FR_09xXy1al-MbWQEabUOZ-a_h70yarw6Kmo/s1600-h/lolcats14zc8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosgNQz1wQ9HzDHH2loc6LMIKhjD4fKneBBMiYfEdB2Cs2IvPEUK6SRPGbrMWYVd-6CUi_cO4DjCZqw2UkvvNr6sG88RobH7SJ_j2GdA6FR_09xXy1al-MbWQEabUOZ-a_h70yarw6Kmo/s320/lolcats14zc8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254991169197861634" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">but opkors XD</span><br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-84955375962485685592008-10-01T20:29:00.000+08:002008-10-01T20:30:39.864+08:00Oo nga naman.<object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/afBENV1V4kI&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/afBENV1V4kI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >hehe...</span><br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-21502095884282223092008-09-28T12:17:00.000+08:002008-09-28T12:31:12.761+08:00The Randomness of AWESOME<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwWuE8B5unLqPm2RTwQx24Kq2GlUZ085qdO4kmsu8xIekOnnYyCwMzsihxolsN_ga6_dlGT7hLdUqEt5DGibQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />The most unlikely elements.<br /></div>Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-893432855985678257.post-4200797548292323842008-09-26T06:32:00.000+08:002008-09-26T07:03:41.490+08:00Misty Moisty MorningThe morning sun finally came out. I didn't miss it. Even more now that I finally decided to wear a jacket to work. Curse you, fickle-minded weather, you and your indecisive rainshowers.<br /><br />Good <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">(yet awfully tedious)</span> Morning to everyone supposedly reading this. In case you decide to log in a little later, then good<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"> (most likely uneventful)</span> day, kind sir/ma'am.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Heyers</span>, I know you're still asleep <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">(yeah, I'm stalking you :p)</span>, so just rest up. Take it easy today and don't stress yourself out <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">(I mean it, DON'T)</span>. It just so happened that good ole' Lady Luck had a PMSing bitchfit, thus pumping immense amounts of stress, worry and hullabaloo into your pretty little head. If only I could be there to take care of you, I sure as hell would. I'd really love to. Kaya tandaan, <span style="font-weight: bold;">PUMETIX</span> ka lang ngayong araw, hehe! I miss you. <3<br /><br />Time to work.Juan Carlos Francohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16836183990697898745noreply@blogger.com0