PATOK Part 3: It’s more fun riding a Jeepney…

…and not get shot.

Jeepney drivers pass down the trade to their young apprentices at night – less traffic, less passengers, less MMDA and police. Early in the training, they accompany the youths, acting as conductors/barkers so the Padawan can practice driving. Problem is, these kids have seen all six of Vin Diesel’s car movies and I’m not quite sure if they all have their licenses yet.

The day will come when they are trusted to drive by themselves, often accompanied by a fellow youngster who may be dreaming of drifting a jeep down Antipolo someday.

On my way to work, the jeepney cut in front of a car (I didn’t see the make and model) right in front of one of those “executive villages” along Imelda Avenue. I think the jeep made a scratch or dent on that car. So Mr. ExecutiveVillage yelled at Mr.JeepneyDriver through his window. Both vehicles pulled over.

Mr. ExecutiveVillage got down from his car and confronted Mr.JeepneyDriver, complete with all the expletives drivers reserve for such an occasion. Mr.JeepneyDriver tried to apologize profusely. Threats of police, threats of filing a case, blah blah blah.

And then Jeepney Driver started weeping. This ticked off Mr.ExecutiveVillage even more! “Anong iniiyak-iyak mo diyan?” he thundered.

I stayed put thinking “This gon’ be gooood!”

I changed my mind about this live telenovela unfolding before my eyes when the threats of cops turned to threats of guns. “I’m shaking right now!” That’s ExecutiveVillage-speak for “I’m so angry, I’m losing control.”

That was my cue. Exit, Stage Left. I hopped off and stood in the curb waiting for another Jeepney to take me to work.

Did I mention I had bandages around my right arm? Oh yes, my injuries seem to have a special connection with funny jeepney incidents. I was diagnosed with RSI (repetitive strain injury) to my right thumb and wrist. Look it up in Google if you have time. The doctor put my hand in a splint, immobilizing it to a constant thumbs-up sign.

So picture a prim-looking lady in glasses, heels and a pencil skirt, with bandages around her arm, laughing her ass off on the curb, hailing another jeep to work at 8PM. Thumbs up!

I’m not sure if they can tell but I gave the two drivers a big smile and a thumbs-up as I rode away on the next jeepney.

I got to work unscathed and highly entertained. Two Thumbs up!



Why Birds are Evil

For some of my friends who might not yet be aware, I am afraid of hate don’t like birds. I have Ornithophobia.

I don’t care if they’re pretty and colorful. I don’t care if they’re an integral part of natural pollination. I don’t care if they sing. I don’t care if you think they’re cute.

Maybe its the beak, the filthy feathers, the reptillian feet (although I have no issues with lizards), the sharp claws, the alien expressionless eyes… the ugly greedy birdlings! The Avian flu! The avian ticks! The watery poo. Sucks to your chirping Php200.00 lovebirds!

Case #1 – Thanksgiving in San Fernando, Pampanga
A rabid turkey from hell that chases down a10-year-old girl in a red Batibot shirt. We have identified this turkey as a 30-pound bird, brown flared-up feathers, ugly red wrinkled face, red wattles (described by the victim as “the bird’s facial scrotum”) Said turkey can kick you with aforementioned reptillian feet and sharp talons that hurt and scar like hell. The victim’s identity shall be protected, as being a minor at the time of the incident. Let’s call her Waisty.

Case #2 – Totoy Resbak
This incident is evidence of their gangsta-like behavior. Pecking upon the white-stockinged feet of a certain midwifery student having lunch at an eatery beside her school, a juvenile chicken gets kicked to the curb. A few moments later, this juvenile returns with his ‘brotha’, a 40 pound turkey. Gobbles proceeded to terrorize said lady-in-white, amid the laughter of Juvenile Chicken and members of the student body.

Case # 3 – Just this Friday, 2010
Such behavior is not limited to turkeys . A stowaway lovebird, lemon yellow, 5 inches in height, was spotted to be stalking the gates of a young trainer’s home. Said lovebird perched upon the gate’s locking mechanism, as if attempting to trap the victim in. This is evidenced by the presence of acid bird poo on the padlock. Fortunately, the superhero named Lolo came to capture El Gorrion del Amor (aka Lovebird) The tiny villain battled hard with shrill shreaks and claw swipes and beak attacks. In the end, Lolo proved victorious with his hand grapple technique. The suspect is now under Lolo’s custody together with inmates Bonnie and Clyde.

I love my KFC. I love my omelettes. Case closed.

Rabbit Food

(Nearly) True Story

 Easter Sunday Kiddie Event 2009

Robinson’s Place


Host: O sige, pag tama ang sagot mo, meron kang prize!

Bata1: Opo

Host: Anong paboritong kinakain ng rabbit?

Bata1: … … …

Host: Clue! Kakulay ng suot mo ngayon.

Bata1: … Orange!

Host: Umm…bigyan natin ng chance ang teammate mo. Ikaw, kuya, anong paboritong pagkain ng rabbit? (points at the orange-shirt kid)

Bata2: (mukhang stressed at nagbuntong-hininga) …Tao.



After Orange Kid, the next dessert course is Strawberry Shortcake! Yum!


Office crushes are fun!

A conversation in the office

Dirty Old Man: You remind me of women from the Fifties. When women were women. You know, like Rita Hayworth, Katharine Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe.

Me: Yeah, I’m old-fashioned… and I love those women, too. (evil grin)

D.O.M.: Whoah… wait! What did you say? You like women?

Me: I love women.

Skinny Office Geek:  (nodding) She does.

Me: I like the petite, curvy, messed-up kind. Especially if they’re pale-skinned and artistic. Complete opposite of my kind of men: dark, big, geeky and nice.

Office Ursula: Yup. That’s her, all right.

Start of my shift

Crush-crush: Hi! Lookin’ good!

Me: Ahehehe… thanks. Bye!

Crush-crush heads home.

A few hours after my shift

Crush-crush: Hey. You’re the last person from the office I ran into yesterday. Now you’re the first!

Me:  (dead tired, dizzy, leans towards Crush-crush)

Crush-crush: (beso)

Me: Tired!

Crush-crush: Yeah, go home. Bye!

Me: (kilig!)