All the world's a stage to Willie Revillame.

Everyone plays a character.

Emotions are made-up.

Trap-doors and smoke and mirrors,

and hiding corpses behind curtains.

The choreographed applause,

the dancing, the singing,

the crying, the drama of life unfolding.

The crush of bodies.

The sweat that flows as secrets,

held on to for so long, are revealed

on national television.

And the money, the money that flows.

A payment for every dirty underwear exposed,

for every horrible gyration, screeches, screams.

So little for more than a pound of flesh.

The humiliation, the horror.

Ok lang, may bayad naman.

Everything has a value, and that's monetary.

Who cares if the happiness is momentary?

Call me a backstage critic.

I'm a scriptwriter, a voice over, a propswoman, a floor director. In short, I work unseen, so you may work in a few bitterness in my tone.

I am also the market for these noontime shows.

From Lunchdate to Showtime and now, just this afternoon, to Happy Yipee Yehey.

First off, the opening number was unexpectedly expected. Ten days old into the Chinese New Year and they give us what? Yet another lion and dragon dance. I'd say it ended there.

After that it was a hodge podge of song and dance numbers, movie and show promos and games that were so obviously a rehash of other games here and abroad. The only saving grace was the Ikaw ang Bida interactive game but even that was borrowed from Eat Bulaga and their long time invasion of the barangays. Ho hum. Done. Done. Done.

Not to mention that the pacing was painfully slow, people talked so damnably slow you would have wanted to rip out the words from their throats; the music, light and stage cues were a heartbeat later than expected. It was a test of patience to finish the show.

So anyway. Let us all hope that they do better on Monday.

On a positive note, Karylle, after her self-eviction, was made co-host of Showtime. Now that, is worth saying happy yipee yehey.

I just drank a bottle of Minute Maid Pulpy. They say it’s got ‘no preservatives added’. Aw, c’mon…It’s bottled juice. Is that even possible? So I thought maybe... I'm having my leg pulled.

 

I didn’t believe it the first time I heard it’s got no preservatives added.  So I read the ingredients (even the fine print) and everything checked out! It really has NO PRESERVATIVES ADDED!  That means it doesn’t have ingredients that may turn out to be allergens, or worse...carcinogens!  Whew! Now that’s healthy goodness that tastes so good, I... had to buy another bottle and drink it up fast!

 

So okay, it’s got no preservatives added. That’s really good, right?  Not just because it doesn’t have those icky, harmful ingredients, but it also means... it's good enough to drink every time I feel like I need a healthy drink.

 

So far anyone who still has a hard time believing that Minute Maid has got no preservatives added - meaning it's THAT natural, it's almost like it's plucked straight from the tree, it's just as Mother Nature wanted your orange juice to be, it's got nothing but the good stuff yes, none of those potentially toxic stuff that can harm your brain, kidneys, heart; cause tumors aargh- the list of preservatives' bad effects just go on!!! Anyway, just to prove a point on just how good Minute Maid Pulpy is 'cause it's got NO PRESERVATIVES ADDED, I'm gonna tell the world about it.

 

Feels good to know about the real pulpy deal, right? C’mon show me a smile on the comment box, and you might win yourself a Really Pulpy Deal! (That’s a chance to win a Minute Maid gift pack simply by commenting. Sweet! C'mon you just might be picked as the lucky 'commentor'!)

 

Love,

 

Mavicity

 

http://www.facebook.com/MinuteMaid.ph

 

 

I recently got the Red Snakeskin Specialist that was on Christmas sale. 

I bought it online from brattybonita22.multiply.com, owned by Thea Secretaria, featured in Unang Hirit. She's a young entrepreneur and every girl probably want to have her life: bag designer, business owner, and an office girl that's mostly sent abroad.

I am generally an easy online buyer, meaning I don't ask too many things, I contact you for the order, I meet-up to pay and get the product. I've bought several things online including two laptops, a camera and the usual girlie wirlie stuff (read: whitening and slimming products).

This being my first time to buy a bag online, I was, as Thea summarized: so makulit. Probably because I don't usually buy bags even offline, I just wait for people to get tired of my bag and finally give me a new one. 

Anyway, I got my new bag by meeting up with Thea's mom, had a little chit chat at DQ Cubao and I was off with a very spunky lookin' laptop bag. Although I must admit I was a bit offed that there was no receipt for the not at all negligible sum of moolah I gave up, oh well, online shopping has such risks.

The first thing I noticed was that the black material looked like the brittle kind of pleather, remember when your black shoes would break up in parts that moved the most? It was the same black material on the handles as well which made the handles tough and to not mold to your shoulder.

The lining also packed a punchline. It was a red bag with a bright green lining. Hah. Although I must admit that the bright green lining made the insides a little more easier to navigate, especially with all the things I cram inside it, so in the end the color was definitely a plus.

I had to put glue on the belt-like designs so that they stay put and not cause tears in the red material where they were looped through.

But if you notice on the photo above, the bag has supports underneath so that the bottom need not touch ground even when you're shoulders are aching from the weight of your laptop and definitely had to put the bag down. The bag also stand up quite nicely and that's a big plus for those commuting via train, just put the bag down and clip it between your legs :D

Also your laptop, tiny or of cinematic proportions, is very well protected once inside the bag because of the Uratex padding. This also makes the bag a nice hugbuddy for the long commutes.

It's also quite an upgrade to my over-all look. An aunt asked me if it was a Prada. Hah! I wish, but hey, it does look as good as one.

So for recommendations, this one is definitely recommended. A must-buy for all of us girls who has to lug our laptops on our sexy backs day in and day out and still manage to look half-way decent and even fashionable. ;)

 

This is not a paid review.

You can find Bratty Bonita on multiply, facebook and twitter.

They also have another line called Tough Brat, see below. Love it. I wish I can have one of these for my birthday next month :D

I promise to be very good... to myself this Christmas season.

I recently got myself a spunky new HP 12 megapixel touchscreen camera and now I've got my eyes on a Bratty Bonita Laptop Bag. Although I'd much want to get them all, they have an assortment of styles and colors and sizes, I must settle for just one, at least for now.

Bratty Bonita Laptop Bags has a facebook account, a multiply account, a twitter account, an email account for inquiries and made to order laptop bags and a very nice red snake skin Specialist laptop bag which is on sale this Christmas!

Phew, now that's one too many links in one breath, but whatever, you have to see their stuff to know why I'm frothing in the mouth and wanting to get one ASAP.

I've already ordered for the red snake skin kick ass Specialist laptop bag, so I'm not going to rave about that, not till I get my hands on it. For now, let me fantasize over one of their other designs that I want to get for my birthday, which is happening in January 21 thankyouverymuch!

The beauty I hope to get as a gift (hint hint) for my birthday is a lovely mint green croc Michaela laptop bag, see photo and drool ^_^

It's tough and got it's own shape so it's perfect for trotting around in the mall or commuting with. No nosy elbows (pun?) to hurt a tiny fragile netbook.

Also, it doesn't look like a dorky hi-im-a-laptop-bag-steal-me-now ensemble right? For my job this is very important. I get to do my ocular inspections and my out of office work assignments with peace of mind. If you've read my older blog, you'll know I once lost a Macbook to a thief and I'm not letting that happen ever again. Needless to say during the time the Macbook got stolen, I was using a dorky, black laptop bag. Never again!

Inside are compartments for the laptop and everything else. whee, I have to sheepishly smile. I'm a pack rat and my bags are usually a case for Niecy Nash to clean up (Who want's a clean Bag?) so having a bag with neat compartments should help me organize my life better. Tiny netbook, one or two notebooks and a trade paperback plus my pens would fit quite nicely in a Michaela.

As for the color, I've been wondering why I fell in love with mint green, the red Specialist was clear enough since there are only two colors I love and that is red and black, but this green one, well, it simply sends me a message to calm down, pull back and relax. Exactly what I need during stressful, long and tiresome meetings! Hah! Bring 'em on!

So there, I await my first Brartty Bonita laptop bag and hopefully get another one in time for my birthday.

I might have something made to order too. Try to exercise the creative muscles a bit.

If you love Bratty Bonita or would want to check them out, just click in the myriad links I have early on in this post. I hope you get one too and let's all get together in a mall: The First Ever Bratty Bonita Flash Mob! ;)

Watch out for my next post about my red snakeskin Specialist from BB. Gotta love!

 

I'm not a fan of Pilipinas Win na Win.

There are some parts that I'd rather do away with or improve. But I'm not one of the primary target markets of the show, so my opinion matters less. Over all it has been well received and now in it's first month, the show could actually live to see 2011.

When I was a kid, we had a multiplex album, it's has four cassette tapes of OPM songs, much of which are either sung or written by Rey Valera. I used to sing along to the minus one.

Not having watched Pilipinas Win na Win in it's entirety, I thought it felt and sounded like a Tawag ng Tanghalan kind of show. Has-been oldies hurt more to watch than young wannabes.

So today, with no pressing deadline to battle with, and with the TV turned on indefinitely, and me lying on the bed half-asleep, Pilipinas Win na Win was uninterruptedly enjoying airtime in my living room.

They were celebrating their 1st month, and for hosts that have to sign contracts on a weekly-basis (is this real Pokwang?), that indeed is a big sign. The Hitmakers started out very awkwardly. They have almost zero hosting skills. The other three were too courteous and couldn't crack a joke without a bottle of beer in hand, and Rico J falls into his beer house hosting skills too soon he actually gets cut off by a commercial in the middle of his banter with the obviously distressed Pokwang.

Well, today, all four of them have evolved to good hosts. The three have lost their shyness, enough to make some oldies and surprisingly, some young ones, to swoon; Rico J have exfoliated a layer of extra thick and dark skin and could finally feel when he was being crass. But they had another surprise, Rey Valera wrote a song to thank the viewers who kept the ratings up and kept them signing the weekly contracts.

In my bed, I had to wake up and just simply stare at them singing. Because the song was so sincere and their singing was so giving and not self-absorbed, I was moved to tears. The song hinted on them being what they really were before Pilipinas Win na Win got them onboard: Rey, Rico, Nonoy and Marco were forgotten and shelved, or sent to other countries to serenade aging OFWs and immigrants. The song also hinted that well, they were already tired and ready to give up when finally someone decided, maybe by asking a magic8 ball, that they should host a noontime show. But most of all, the song was a thanksgiving, the song was an honest to goodness "thank you" to the people who cared enough to clap, who lent an ear to listen, and who wanted more of them that they had top spread the word. The Hitmakers: Rico, Rey, Nonoy and Marco were back and they ROCK, baby.

Forget the gimiks, forget the catchy made-up phrases, forget the dance moves, forget the novelty. Forget the lip-syncing host that sang cutesie songs and reeked of self-pride. Forget him and remember Rey Valera's words and the Hitmakers heart-felt, unselfish singing.

Good writers get better with age. Now I finally believe that being 25 and not having published anything is not my 2012. And now, I also believe that a show that's supposed to be as campy and cheesy as possible can be utterly classy and classic provided you choose the right hosts.

A good songwriter never loses stories to tell, never loses talent, we just lose faith in him.

OPM is back. Rey Valera is back. Real music and meaning is back. Thank you Rey Valera. Thank you to the magic8 ball that the TV executive asked whether he should get The Hitmakers to host Pilipinas Win na Win or not.

It does good to the heart when you have nothing bad to say. Real talent is not bound by youth. Pepe Smith and Rey Valera are the old but revitalized gods of Pinoy Music.

1. People having a penchant for work-disrupting music and NOT having earphones.

2. The proliferation of almost naked jocks in Jessica Zafra's blog.

3. Having another Christmas party script to write.

Remind me again why exactly do I always have to put your feelings before mine?

Cause I totally forgot, and I'm no longer cowed by the faces you make. Like whatever, I can be a bitch too. I can talk your talk.

So excuse me if I step on your little footsies to get to the other side of the room. If you can perhaps move yourself away from my path?

 

Funny, I can't keep the bitch act for long. The muscle in my left eyebrow begins to show signs of fatigue at the second minute and it relaxes to it's normal pre-Miss Minchin position.

But sometimes it helps to play the evil sister, the evil stepmother, the troll under the bridge. There are two sides to everyone's coin and it hurts when we deny the dark side some airtime.

Just don't let the dark side reign I guess.

 

Anyway, bitchy me actually makes sense. You don't ALWAYS have to put others' feelings before yours'. Especially when you are a nonentity to them anyway. Give yourself a break. Let them sulk while you laugh.

This is driving me crazy. I feel like there's something about to happen. I feel it running around in my gut. A heavy bionic man running around and weighing a tonne.

I am ever impatient.

Mr. Whitson taught sixth-grade science. On the first day of class, he gave us a lecture about a creature called the cattywampus, an ill-adapted nocturnal animal that was wiped out during the Ice Age. He passed around a skull as he talked. We all took notes and later had a quiz.

When he returned my paper, I was shocked. There was a big red X through each of my answers. I had failed. There had to be some mistake! I had written down exactly what Mr. Whitson said. Then I realized that everyone in the class had failed. What had happened?

Very simple, Mr. Whitson explained. He had made up all the stuff about the cattywampus. There had never been any such animal. The information in our notes was, therefore, incorrect. Did we expect credit for incorrect answers?

Needless to say, we were outraged. What kind of test was this? And what kind of teacher?

We should have figured it out, Mr. Whitson said. After all, at the every moment he was passing around the cattywampus skull (in truth, a cat's), hadn't he been telling us that no trace of the animal remained? He had described its amazing night vision, the color of its fur and any number of other facts he couldn't have known. He had given the animal a ridiculous name, and we still hadn't been suspicious. The zeroes on our papers would be recorded in his grade book, he said. And they were.

Mr. Whitson said he hoped we would learn something from this experience. Teachers and textbooks are not infallable. In fact, no one is. He told us not to let our minds go to sleep, and to speak up if we ever thought he or the textbook was wrong.

Every class was an adventure with Mr. Whitson. I can still remember some science periods almost from beginning to end. On day he told us that his Volkswagon was a living organism. It took us two full days to put together a refutation he would accept. He didn't let us off the hook until we had proved not only that we knew what an organism was but also that we had the fortitude to stand up for the truth.

We carried our brand-new skepticism into all our classes. This caused problems for the other teachers, who weren't used to being challenged. Our history teacher would be lecturing about something, and then there would be clearings of the throat and someone would say ``cattywampus.''

If I'm ever asked to propose a solution to the problems in our schools, it will be Mr. Whitson. I haven't made any great scientific discoveries, but Mr. Whitson's class gave me and my classmates something just as important: the courage to look people in the eye and tell them they are wrong. He also showed us that you can have fun doing it.

Not everyone sees the value in this. I once told an elementary school teacher about Mr. Whitson. The teacher was appalled. ``He shouldn't have tricked you like that,'' he said. I looked that teacher right in the eye and told him that he was wrong.

http://www.comp.nus.edu.sg/~leonghw/Courses/cattywampus.html