The Construct

Just last night, I sort of ended my hermitage (break’s officially ending and not that I really took a serious day off work) with dinner and coffee with the peeps. Nice to see familiar faces for quite a while. As with our many meet-ups love lives. With several of us already in “stable” relationships, the single ones are always in the hot seat.

Anyway, somewhere along the many topics of conversation was one of us sharing a boy-hugs-girl moment with the following premises 1) girl likes boy and 2) boy just wants to be friends.

For some reason, my brain’s sign system seems to consist of pop culture references in the short span of . (Pretty f*cked up for a guy who’s working on critical discourse analysis for his thesis. No wonder I’m getting nowhere with it. Reading Gloria Arroyo, interpreting Gremlins. Sheesh!) Here’s how my brain pretty much worked that moment.

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Would you look at that? I haven’t really written anything about the reproductive health bill primarily because any discussion on reproductive health in the Philippine context is bound to touch on religion. And religion is always a mucky topic to be a factor in any argument.

Anyway, this particular letter to the editor published by the Inquirer arguing that the RH Bill will be a waste of precious money. The letter cited three reasons – 1) bill is not designed to educate people, 2) bill won’t feed hungry stomachs, and 3) poor families are on survival mode. Well, incoherent as those points are, I think Ms. San Juan’s point is that the RH Bill will not address poverty and that it will give horny people reasons to have sex out of wedlock.

I guess that pretty much summarizes what needs to be addressed – the very simplistic view regarding what needs to be done. And I do believe that the real reason why the RH Bill won’t fly is the ultraconservative stance.

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The problem with people with repressed childhoods (like me) is that we tend to overcompensate when we finally gain some independence and get some spare change from our wee salaries. I guess it runs in the family too. I remember my dad buying me an airsoft pistol only for him to play with it more than I had. (Oh yeah, he’ll be dead for eight years now in a few days.)

Anyway, people have been overly critical of my extreme miserliness. I rarely buy stuff and never spend a cent I wouldn’t earn back immediately or in a bad investment (not that I haven’t made a few, and surely, these drove me to wits’ end). Spending, for me, is a sin. My greatest luxury has always been treating my Dearest to something. I rarely buy clothes, gadgets, other effects and doohickeys for myself.

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It has been quite a long while since I’ve blog hopped blogs of fellow Filipino bloggers. Interesting bits here and there but Basapa never disappoints with up-to-date commentaries on relevant social issues. Here’s something about sex education in Quezon City.

Save for a few weeks vacation when I was a kid, I lived in Quezon City all my life. All of my schools are located in Quezon City. My past two jobs were also based in QC. Unless I’d find some place more suitable for me to start a family, I’m staying put. There’s a lot to hate about the city but hey, it’s my hometown.

So what do I care about sex education in QC? Frankly, not much. But apparently, it’s such a big fuss. Especially since the Catholic Church.

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I used to be a fan of pro-wrestling. It’s like soap opera for men. Never mind the idea of two (or more) guys in trunks or tights grappling each other, trying to pin the other or make him submit. It’s the brainless and barbaric side to pro-wrestling that appeals to me. And yes, for hot-blooded men out there, there’s always the sexual appeal of the women and, as WWE color commentator Jerry Lawler exclaims, “The puppies, JR, look at those puppies.” Puppies referring not to canine young, but to big, and luscious mammaries.

Which leads me to wonder how could they move with those gigantic breasts? (Well, most of they would have probably had their breasts done like this New Jersey breast augmentation). I mean, it’s really amazing, especially when they begin to wrestle – doing all of those high flying. Do those racks make them aerodynamic or something? I wouldn’t know, ’cause I don’t have boobs.

I really wonder if seeing girls go competitive would even account for women empowerment. I mean the wrestling fan demographic is composed by hot-blooded beer-fueled males and a large part of women wrestling appeal would probably be the male fetish of seeing women “got at it.”

Retired female wrestler Trish Stratus claimed in an interview that she would never do Playboy which is stark contrast to the rest of the other WWE Divas (like Sable, Torrie Wilson, Ashley Massaro, Candice Michelle…). Trish claims “it’s not my style” and says that she wants to be remembered as a champion wrestler.

Oh well, whatever they say, it will always boil down to “The puppies, JR!”