Philippine-made!
Music
The Top 20 Singles
Find out who's on top!
Deathmatches
Spoofing the spoofmasters.
My Music
My own attempts at songwriting. mp3s not available.
Album Reviews
Some albums I've taken the time to listen to and rate. What do you think?
Music Interviews
Supporting Philippine independent music (and major label players)!
Gig Articles
Some gig's I've covered, usually underground and quite enjoyable.
Literati
My Work
Some poetry, a little fiction, and a lot of chutzpah.
Mere Writers
Freelance writers' organization.
Me
Online Resume
I am not much. But I am.
Contact
My contact information.
Links
Some other websites I think are phat.
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Gina stepped out of the makeshift carinderia. A sign, �Polling�s Store,� hung limply over the galvanized iron sheet that passed for a roof. She dug into her pockets and fished out a cigarette. She reached through the iron bars that separated the customers from the employees and grabbed hold of the lighter that dangled from a bright red string of yarn.
She wondered what time Jack would be coming home. Lighting the cigarette, Gina�s eyes darted around, looking for customers who may need a change of bowl. She spotted the dish Inday Polling was looking for; it was underneath an abandoned bowl of mami.
She picked up bowl and dish and left it on a table near her. She would wash them after her break. She took a long drag, sucking the smoke out of the burning tobacco. She wasn�t hungry; the daing she had for merienda earlier would carry her through the rest of the day.
Smoking first got Jack and her together. They shared a cigarette the first day they met, on a date set up by his so-called manager � she called him bugaw - and her co-waitress. He learned she wanted to go to fashion school; she found out he wanted to be a real actor. It took her a while to find out exactly what kind of movies he starred in.
�Have I seen your films?� she had asked one time.
�Not unless you have money to rent Betamax tapes,� he replied.
�Name a title of one of your movies.�
�Uhaw.�
�Hm. Sounds nice. Who starred aside from you?�
�They�re not that well-known. Lala Munin.�
�No.�
�CeCe Backin.�
�No. I don�t know any of these people!�
�Chino Paco.�
�Who?!�
She had laughed. For some reason, she found it funny. Ten months later, she became Regina Moto Cole.
Gina sucked away.
* * *
Jack�s sweat dripped onto the breasts of his latest conquest. The bedsprings underneath their heaving bodies complained loudly; the squeaking, he knew, would be edited out later. A fly buzzed around his head, annoying him to no end; puta, he thought, that�s going to show up on film. Noticing the open door, he cursed under his breath and hoped to hell that Eugene blockaded off that side of the squatter colony.
Five minutes, he thought. Good enough. Jack wiped away at the beads of perspiration dotting his brow. He wondered if some rust would rub off onto his hands if he dared lean against the galvanized iron sheet that served as the shanty�s roof. What kind of satisfaction, he thought, would those stupid Americans get from seeing two Filipinos fuck in a makeshift room in some squatter area on the corner of Ortigas and Santolan? He absentmindedly tweaked a chocolate-brown nipple.
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