Monthly Archive for January, 2006

I was Green Two.

I GREW up in a world where bad people come from some fortress in the South Pole… where saviors of the world seem to ALWAYS come from Japan… where the idea of defeating a monster would be to form a five-piece robot and blast the goddamn thing to smithereens… Yes, I was a slave of Saturday & Sunday sentai shows.

We were the perfect team back then. My two sisters only had to choose between Yellow Four and Pink Five. There were three boys: Me, and my two cousins… I took the Green spot and let them choose between Red and Blue. I don’t why I didn’t choose Red. Perhaps I’d rather be a follower than a leader. Or I just probably like green.

The thing with Bioman didn’t last long. Back then, I lack the interest of watching my favorite heroes speak in out-of-sync english. I also lost track of the story thus forcing me to skip Sunday morning (before lunch) over church choir service. I didn’t even know that Bioman’s complete name was Super Electron Bioman. To demonstrate how early in the series I stopped watching it, I only knew a year ago that Yellow Four died and was replaced by an archer.

Enter Maskman.

The same thing happened between my sisters and cousins. Except that my sisters were fighting over the Pink Mask spot. They find Yellow too boyish. Eventually, my youngest sister got the part. I chose to be Red Mask this time, being the eldest. We would huddle in front of the TV to watch it every weekend (I forgot what day it aired), then later re-enact the events as it happened… with matching bone-crushing formations and hand gestures. We even memorized the lyrics of the opening theme (it was in Tagalog and it was much easier to understand at the time; I also had no concept of baduy yet). I handed out a copy to Blue Mask and asked him to write a copy for each member.

The love story element between Pink and Red made me feel awkward. Me and my sister? No way. I was old enough to know what incest is (though I didn’t know the word back then). We also lacked people who’ll play as villains. Even the other kids in the our place refused to be a villain because they were Maskmen of another group. I eventually grew out of it. My sisters followed soon after.

A few years later, Power Rangers became a hit. But that’s an entirely different story.

As a tribute to the concept of sentai, here are some photos courtesy of supersentai.com and japanhero.com. The person who can give me all the names (Philippine Version) of each will receive a little “sumthin-sumthin”.

Super Electron Bioman
Bioman. I forgot all their names.

Those guys from South Pole
Bioman bad guys. The easily distinguishable ones.

Laser Squadron
Maskman. The ones I’m more acquainted with.

That LSS feeling…

While I was aimlessly browsing late last night, I stumbled upon this site: The Dormitory Boys. No, it’s not another sleazy site that promotes male to male… errr… intimacy. And no, I’m not turning gay; never been, never will. Haha.

I then found out that what I thought was only a one-hit wonder, was actually a whole armada of videos that WILL make you flip on all fours. Kitch loves them, and judging by the length of the individual permalinks, everybody seems to agree with her. Haha. You’ll soon find yourselves coming back and subconsciously, watching the videos that may have already surpassed the popularity of the originals.

To quote the boys: “Life is short, make fools of yourselves while you can!”

True… true…

My Wishlist

I know it’s too late to make one. But maybe, just maybe, by some kind of divine intervention or incessant whining… I might get one of these this year (Hoping helps wanting). Haha.

Canon EOS350D
Canon EOS350D. Gawd, I’d kill for this baby.

Sony PSP
Sony PSP. The white one, please.

iPod
The new iPod Video. Who wouldn’t wish about this heavenly thing?

iPod
Sony W550i. This would be the last resort, in case I didn’t get the iPod.

Homo sapien.

After what seemed like a decade of being stuck in the bumness-void, I finally got a job that’s related to what I love doing: web design. I do thumbnails, mostly. Lucky are the ones who knew the true/exact nature of what I do. I don’t get surprised on how people reacted upon knowing what I do in the wee hours of the morning esp. my former officemates since PBCOM’s a good 10 paces from where I’m sitting right now (if you can walk on air, knock on the glass. I might be kind enough to flash you a few pics). I get nudges on passwords, backdoor access, etc. Nudges that range from simple hints to the downright annoying. The worst one would be from that guy that sent me a message thru friendster asking for passwords: I didn’t even tell the guy about my job. Heck, we haven’t even brushed elbows more than twice back then.
I don’t really have much control over what I do since all I do is complete it, then upload it. I don’t maintain sites. So don’t expect me to be your walking all-access pass.

It’s been a week now since I got employed. I’m currently enjoying the perks my former officemates would only dream of. Fixed skeds, weekends off, observance of PHILIPPINE holidays, the absence of a dress code, being able to do what other companies would deem immoral, blog, YM, ICQ. It’s almost like getting paid for staring at the computer (I wish my mother would that, though). I was back in the night shift. Though I have to admit that this is the first time that I’ve never felt too tired or too lazy to skip work. I actually look forward to going to work. Now, this isn’t totally me. I usually shun working late at night esp. when all I’m expected to do is to talk, listen, talk, listen… I’ll probably take this time to brush up on my skills and maybe get freelance work aside from the regular load I get everyday. It usually takes 2 hours for me to finish everything. Most of the guys watch “movies” after. As for me, I devoted time to renovate (and make it Mozilla-friendly) my blog. why am I not doing the same thing as the others? I don’t know, perhaps I’ve already grown out of the habit. I decided I won’t be caught in the bandwagon. Though I still snatch occasional stares at the PC beside me for a dose of something far greater than the coffee effect.

I still feel uneasy saying the word “porn” on any kind of messaging client.

So there, how long I’d stay in the job? I don’t know. I can tell you this, though: I won’t/don’t give out sh*t even if I get paid for doing so… well, okay. I MAY consider. Haha.

Ranting. panting and wanting… with sugar somewhere underneath.

DISCLAIMER: I enjoyed Christmas. I just wanted to let my alter-ego do the entry.

Ah… Christmas. It went right past me like a cold December night wind. And New Year’s Eve… just like the bottle of denatured alcohol I dropped (it had to be in a breakable grass) while I was reloading my cousin’s PVC cannon (Hey, that sounded like a Battlemech weapon). It seems that the season’s supposed merriness just grow weaker by the year. One of the reasons why everyone literally “rushed” to the nearest marked down price tag like a natural disaster’s imminent where not only famine is expected, but also flood… of, you know.

I know what you’ll say. You’ll say that I’m being cynical. You’ll say that I’m a scrooge. You’ll say that I have no Christmas spirit (what’s it supposed to mean, anyway?). Or that I got this series of sentences off somebody else’s work (that last one would be somehow true, if you have the same reading preferences as I do). I’m going to quote my highly respected writer: “My God, you’re more predictable than I thought! Close the browser or go to orisinal.com for happy thoughts. (I changed the last statement to something more fitting)” I hate to be flippant, but for some reason, my belief in the old Christmas tale was a major factor in turning me to a sarcastic, Santa-agnostic dupe with an impenetrable mindset so strong no Vulcan would dare do a mindmeld on me.

This started when Christmas gifts come in forms no 10 year old (at that time) would probably appreciate. Instead of the usual Lego set that I get from my “Santa”, I get a hankie. Take, for example, my motorbike toy. The next year, the same guy gave me a shirt. If I was given a shirt today, I’d be more than grateful. But in the eyes of the 10 year old that I used to be, the sight of Slimer (from Ghostbusters) on a yellow shirt (I hated yellow then) didn’t excite me at all. The following year I extorted my godparents for “protection money”. I still put up my stocking, though. Parents are suckers when they think that their kids STILL believe in the red-suit burglar thingy.

I think I have a problem dealing with all the mushy, heart-warming, tear-jerking stuff that’s being imposed unto us by the ruthless media we’ve all grown to love. Perhaps I lost all that spirit somewhere along the way during my 22-year trek through what I thought was fun. I’m almost certain that I need something to hold on to so I won’t be sucked out by the other scrooges out there who just depressurized the cabin of the first plane I was going to take to Pleasantville. If you know somebody with the same condition as I am, please let me know. We might be able to help each other.

I know you don’t expect me fuming all throughout this entry. So I’ll set aside a few more for you to wrap up yourselves. This is the 3rd year that I didn’t write down a list of pseudo-resolutions. I plan on going on a lifetime streak (or until somebody writes down one for me), promise me that you’ll be rooting for me at the awards night (”and for the Lifetime Achievement award of not doing anything about himself and being a total bum…”).

I seriously hope that whatever my semi-lethargic fingers just involuntarily seethed out in the last few paragraphs were the exact opposite. If not, then some higher being help me.

Here are a few photos that I promised to my faithful readers. I’ll leave the musings (and fish-worthy comments) up to you. Happy Chinese New Year everyone!

Iz mah burtdei...
Go shawty. The unexpected party.

Melts in your mouth
Not in your hands… Kitch and Kitkat making the world-famous sushiwong. Definitely worth the trip.

Them.
The Clan. Or what’s left after a bottle of jet fuel substitute, El Hombre Tequila.

Them, too.
V is for victimize. Cousins. That guy holding up a peace sign’s the unfortunate victim of the jet fuel overdose incident.

B-I-N-G-O
There was a dog who had a farm… Wait, that one didn’t come out right.

Ipakita sa mundo.
The kids. My favorite niece (left) now dances that PBB song! Fun.

The other clan
Trigger-happy. My favorite lolo and lola!

Red light, green light.
Bonfire. It’s quite obvious how the family despises to be photographed.

Framing.
The place. Yep, they hate photo ops.

Call to Arms.
Hungry. Miles threw the fork after this photo and pierced through the photographer’s chest. Kidding.

Adjusting.
Three. It’s a tripod, you dimwit.