The Paostian Deal

I'm not here

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 16:41:00 +0000

Anymore.

Now Open

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 18:12:00 +0000

Blah, blah, blah, welcome:

What's gonna be YOU in 2009?

Closing Time

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 01:10:00 +0000

Celebrate the closing year one last time—its ups, downs and everything in-between. Know that 2009 will be better, as each new year should be. Now it's only just that we welcome it with fresh faces, zero credit balances, patched-up differences, lighter backpacks...

Give a minute and think... or feel:

What are you leaving behind in 2008?

The biggest buffets of 2008

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 13:06:00 +0000

Watch until the very last second and see Simon Baker's cute smile!

Tug. Tag.

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 20:36:00 +0000

I don't really do this tag thingy, but this pretty lady has been very nice to me that I shall now mirror her niceness and—maybe just this once—post this 'ex' Q&A tag. Quite timely, too, if I may kick. Keep blogging, Vannie. :-)

He says...Why did you let me go?

Your brother was squeezing my left hand, so...

He says... Can I win you back?

Auditions are 4-6AM, Thursdays.

He says... But I am very much happy with you back then.

"Was," smart ass, not "am."

He says...I still love you.

Who wouldn't?

He says...When did we last talk?

Ages ago. I said Hi, you said Bye. Wait, that wasn't a conversation...
Waving doesn't count either, no? Hmm...

He says... Can you go out with me?

Sure! I'll bring my hubby.

He says... Hey, can i give you/ask for a ride?

I never refused free cabs./Walking is very healthy.

He says... Were you able to move on?

I'm wearing signature stuff now, am I not?

He says... I regret losing you.

I KNOW.

He says... My parents do not like you.

Mine don't like me either. Haha.

He says... You have changed.

Yes. I have intestines now.

I love my sister, I love my sister, I love my sister...

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 16:19:00 +0000

The other day, I awoke to a very disturbing phenomenon albeit its being commonplace in the freak show that is my life.

My Colegiala beyond repair sister #2 on the phone. To relive the horror:

[I Assumed, The Party On The Other Line: How can we help you?]
My Colegiala Beyond Repair Sister #2: Umm, I'm calling to verify my application?

[IATPOTOL: What's your full name?]
MCBRS#2: Um, Maya Viola Serenade?

[IATPOTOL: How old are you?]
MCBRS#2: Um, 19?

[IATPOTOL: How are you related to Salsa Falsetto?]
MCBRS#2: Um, I'm her daughter?

[IATPOTOL gave instructions of some sort]
MCBRS#2: Um, I got it: I'll just drop by the nearest branch for the payment?

[IATPOTOL: When was the application submitted?
MCBRS#2: Um, we submitted it last week?

I swear. Would've been clearer if this post came with some audio effects to show the unifying intonation in that verbal pingpong. The world presents a bajillion questions for its youth and, apparently, my sister has all of them. And here I'd been worried about my own personal confusions, when my sister isn't even sure what her name is.

This happened on a lazy afternoon. One that I waited for for a well deserved power nap which I wish lasted for a few minutes longer... enough to keep myself in the dark about my poor sister's questions... I wish I could help her get answers, but sadly thinking of pseudonyms takes all of my remaining energy. Plus I'm too busy chanting my new affirmation:

I love my sister, I love my sister, I freaking love. My sister.

"Lalaki po, sir?"

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 14:55:00 +0000

Save the colonialism plaguing the nation for all eternity, has this country become more confused to the point of hilarity as well? I'd like to pitch in and say no to a senile country:

I shall never wear polo to a mall again. Ever.

Hey, sisters!

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 17:05:00 +0000

The chef's men-u. November 21, 2008.

Felines, femmes and more of The Others

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 12:24:00 +0000

Passengers
Anne Hathaway, Patrick Wilson, Andre Braugher, Clea DuVall, Dianne Wiest
Director Rodrigo Garcia
Writer Ronnie Christensen

Commitments are scary because it's when you make them that your life
becomes a reality.

— Patrick Wilson as Eric Clark

Sadly this plane crashed straight into the "Whaaaat?" category. Not only was it a bit dragging, but disappointingly predictable too. Even when the story spun out of control you could still pinpoint how, when, where and with what dialogues the mess would be resolved. The only mystery that lingered was, "How the hell does Anne do her eye makeup?" My mum Nicole Kidman's version remains more fabulous. But at least the what-really-happened scenes in Passengers was scary enough—for aviophobics, that is. My twin sister Anne was the only lovable thing in the entire 90 minutes. And Patrick's eyes.

The Women
Meg Ryan, Annette Bening, Debra Messing, Eva Mendes, Jada Pinkett Smith, Bette Midler, Candice Bergen
Director and 2008 Screenwriter Diane English
From the play version of Clare Boothe Luce and 1939 screenplay of Anita Loos and Jane Murfin

"This is my face. Deal with it."

— Annette Bening as Sylvia Fowler

The admirable point with this strictly estrogen-only flick was that it stuck to its original idea: women and "real beauty." Then again, if I were to use the silver screen as part of a campaign for a bath soap I'd not forget that it's still a movie and a skit-ish presentation of scenes isn't "real beauty" for your ticket's worth. It was almost like staring at a corkboard slaughtered with Post-its of the entire color spectrum. Well at least all the eye bag action in this Women was justified with that effing "real beauty" gig. I guess. That, but NOT how Debra Messing kept channeling Will & Grace the whole time.

Madagascar 2: Escape to Africa
Voice actors Ben Stiller, Chris Rock, Jada Pinkett Smith, David Schwimmer, Sacha Baron Cohen, Bernie Mac, Will i Am, Alec Baldwin, Cedric the Entertainer, Andy Richter
Directors Eric Darnell, Tom McGrath
Writer Ethan Cohen

They're confused and angry people. "They're New Yorkers!"

— Ben Stiller as Alex the Lion

"Hey, surprise, freaks!"
"Now let us pick a sacrifice before you come into your senses..."

— Sacha Baron Cohen as Julien

What was MTRCB thinking, rating this movie General Patronage? Not only did Madagascar 2 escape to Africa, it also zoomed almost past PG-13 with all the adult humor splashed all over. Uh, "the union wants maternity leave"? Animals dating? A lion beating an old woman crazy? "Moto moto means hot hot"? JULIEN?? Thanks to flicks like these we can expect a smarter-ass generation of youth taking over in a decade. FUN!

I hate my pants. They don't fit anymore.

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 09:07:00 +0000

They keep... slipping.

[ INSERT HUGE SMUG-LEY HERE ] and yes I'm talking particularly to you, you fat wannabe scum shit. I know you're reading this.

Bloat with envy, booger. Boo-hoo.

You were warned: Liposuction can never save you

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 07:54:00 +0000

Only Respect, not a withered social life, not a laughable ambition, and most definitely

NOT a rotting stack of cellulite,

begets respect.

When you're down. And tired: Indulge.

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 01:06:00 +0000

Now I'm ROARING with laughter!

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 21:52:00 +0000

I miss laughing

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 21:49:00 +0000

Tic-toc advocate

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 12:53:00 +0000

Think not what more you can give your underpaying, abusive company; rather what more you can pilfer from the bundy clock.

[ smiley ]

Dizzizzit

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 18:58:00 +0000

What's with power and why are we so afraid of it, when we confidently know we won't abuse it? Perfection may not exist, but I remain faithful that there are capable people who deserve more to be in power rather than doubtful passivity; if I may coin a term, that'd be blind fear, and it's synonymous to pointless. I am not one of them capable creatures, unfortunately, but I believe I have a friend who is.

Let's call her Obachma. And I hope she's reading this, because this will probably be one of the last few times I shall tell her this fact before I become an enemy:

You can do this.

And while I'm momentarily sharing in the Obamania happening in spots all over the globe—it's like a pre-Christmas Christmas atmosphere out there—I'd like to quote the new U.S. President in his victory speech and hope Obachma and a few more friends pick up some inspiration:

"... victory alone is not the change we seek, it is only the chance for us to make that change. And that cannot happen if we go back to the way things were.

"... This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity... to restore prosperity... reaffirm that fundamental truth that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the
spirit of a people:

"Yes we can."

Vesper died strutting, Camille walks the desert barefoot. Who's your gal?

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 13:15:00 +0000

Quantum of Solace
Daniel Craig, Olga Kurylenko, Judi Dench, Mathieu Amalric
Directed by Marc Forster; Written by Paul Haggis, Neal Purvis and Robert Wade

It was rather swift, but this 007 did manage a grand hour of realistic fist fights, amazing stunts, icky corpses, touching reunions and fabulous tailored wear. Or is that statement simply too much excitement over some tricky bridge to a promising Part 3? Anyhoo, divine hair styling for Daniel and Judi too!

Reel-y looking back

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 20:38:00 +0000

City of Ember
Harry Treadaway, Tim Robbins, Bill Murray, Saoirse Ronan
Directed by Gil Kenan; Screenplay by Caroline Thompson

I'm not really sure what Walden Pictures had in mind putting together a cast whose names you can't pronounce without a degree in tongue twisting—that's "Sir-sha" Ronan for you—only to lead and lose you into a big world of vagueness. When a massive blackout hit the City of Ember into total darkness, it sure felt more preferred not to have the lights come back on.

Nights in Rodanthe
Diane Lane, Richard Gere, Viola Davis
Directed by George Wolfe; Screenplay by Ann Peacock and John Romano

It was actually a hit at "lonely and cheating wives:" Flirting men look sexy no matter their age; women are simply, comical. Plus they appear to regress to their teens at the tiniest interest in extramarital affairs. Acting was very good, but the Gere-Lane tandem didn't really seem right... Story was quite predictable, but it had a nice ending. Though I still wish they snuck in Gavin Rossdale's "Love Remains The Same" somewhere in the cuts.

Max Payne
Mark Wahlberg, Mila Kunis, Nelly Furtado, Olga Kurylenko
Directed by John Moore; Screenplay by Beau Thorne

A production design dollhouse which costumes were grander than the plot itself. And again: Mark Wahlberg was misplaced. He should really stop accepting roles entailing scenes of drama or any other involving strong emotions. That or he enrolls in speech and drama classes.

Eagle Eye
Shia LaBeouf, Michelle Monaghan, Rosario Dawson
Directed by D.J. Caruso; Screenplay by John Glenn, Travis Wright, Hillary Seitz and Dan McDermott

Chase scenes were too polished they were almost synonymous to Lea Salonga's fabulous singing. That and a disappointing ending stained what could have been a nice feather to LaBeouf's kiddy hat. Oh, yes: Shia is still a boy.

Body of Lies
Leonardo DiCaprio, Russell Crowe, Mark Strong
Directed by Ridley Scott; Screenplay by William Monahan

Very admirable how the writers bravely presented in such an expensive manner their pessimism on the world crisis that is war. While it is a non-girl flick, ultimately it also became a showdown on who pulled off the better botox: DiCaprio, or Crowe?

The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor
Jet Li, Brendan Fraser, John Hannah, Michelle Yeoh, Luke Ford, Maria Bello
Directed by Rob Cohen; Written by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar

This is Brendan's signature... everything, I get that (but gawd all his yelling was so... ugh!). But pretty please, we don't need any more boring has-beens: Jim Carrey currently owns that department. Hurray for Jet Li, boo for Maria Bello. Half-yum for Luke Ford.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2
Alexis Bledel, America Ferrera, Blake Lively, Amber Tamblyn
Directed by Sanaa Hamri; Screenplay by Elizabeth Chandler

That goddamn pants suffered the Sequel Syndrome almost miserably. Everything felt too fast it looked like the makers only wanted to get the whole Traveling Pants legend done and over with; they kept giving AND fixing ALL dilemma of all four leads and the effort was quite obvious that they seem to had forgotten it was a movie and not an HBO mini-series. (Nor a horror flick: Somebody give Alexis Bledel blood transfusion, quick! Or better yet, suck a few pints from Ugly Betty there already!) Props to America and Amber, but Part 1 is still way lovelier.

Tropic Thunder
Robert Downey Jr., Ben Stiller, Jack Black, Tom Cruise, Brandon Jackson
Directed by Ben Stiller; Screenplay by Ben Stiller, Justin Theroux and Ethan Cohen

This wasn't a movie. This was a long exercise for your decision-making skills: Do I like it, or not? Do I laugh, or not? Do I know research on Scientology, or what? Interesting opening sequence, though.

Igor
Voices led by John Cusack, Molly Shannon, Jennifer Coolidge, Steve Buscemi, Sean Hayes, John Cleese
Directed by Anthony Leondis; Written by Chris McKenna

Animators for film have yet to name the god among themselves, and sadly those behind this one seemed to lag. "What poorly-dubbed telenovela is this?" ran in my head long after I finished my popcorn. Oh well. I guess it's the price for giving up childhood in exchange for coffee and porn: You will never enjoy things simply for their cuteness ever again.

Rantoms: Plus 1

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 03 Nov 2008 17:55:00 +0000

Somebody sent me a "Which angel are you? request" in Facebook. I haven't done anything to it yet but it significantly intrigues me. I dunno, do tell me, was I supposed to laugh?

---

Local news reporters seriously need a new subject to tackle, really really really, especially with showbiz personalities. "TV and print supermodel shares hard experiences as family breadwinner." Like the rest of creation have it easy while she on the other hand needs to wear designer clothes and pout to earn money. To buy make-up and go to it's-not-Bora-it's-Boracay. Okay. How about this. "Overworked, underpaid mutt shares insanely unthinkable times striving not to roll eyes at headlines like that." Or maybe, just maybe, "Crap."

---

Why do we talk that way? Like we need a couple more sentences to clear our point. Look, there it is: "like!" How come we always try to define stuff by like-ning them to other things? I'm not complaining, because I also do it all the time. "You irritate me. Like, I get itchy all over by the mere sight of you. Like, I wanna barf on your face if you don't leave now." It's just weird, that we cannot seem to be sure of things outside the convenience of back-ups of sorts, like we are to be basically doubted if we don't offer an alternate description, like we always need second proofs to everything... And there it is again! Crazy. Is this century that cluttered already? Or is nothing simply, like, original, anymore?

---

Isn't it pathetic that my favorite Holidays song is "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas?" I dunno. Its melody always calms me down, especially when I'm about to show my heels up-close to another entity trying my nerves. There's even this weird version that would surely fit well in a bed scene for Scorpio Nights X... Anyway, I do that every time, actually, listening to those songs to pacify my hopeless barbaric nature, keeping me away from prison. Yes I'm a dwarf, uneducated bull. Too bad an iPod can only run for so long while the populations of dimwits biking on sidewalks and worms mistaking the moviehouse for a confessional keep growing by the second.

---

I just finished Twilight and I never felt more pressured my entire life. I wanted to experience the book first before seeing my ex Robert Pattinson's movie version. The novel is romantic, alright, nostalgic even. But up until now it's still only the classic love story that should never stay long in the hands of future colegialas-beyond-repair: A needy slut and a smug, what did Stephenie Meyer call it, "forgotten Adonis." But I think I will love Alice Cullen in the future.

---

Then I read in a magazine that our bodies naturally gain a pound each year. More than obesity, botany sent chills down my spine: So we're actually like trees, annually gaining a ring over the old wood? Ohmygoodness what about my jeans!

---

Red alert: the "metrosexual" virus is evolving into a stronger strain and more and more confused souls are now posting nude, be-muscled photos in Friendster. I mean, What. The. Apparently, assuming the form of the Incredible Hulk—plus emulating the look of an angry, possessed Linda Blair, squinting so hard it almost hurts the beholder's nose; think Triple H pouting a la Tyra Banks—provides a more appealing cover-up for all the inner Pride. And a better chance to snag a weekly one-night stand. With a hyperacidic Dave Batista grinning like Angelina Jolie. To each his own, forever, but come on, gUys, it's really very hard to watch... and keep puking.

---

All I know, is that I'm a headturner. I turn heads away. Seriously. Even random commuters' kids stare at me on the streets and I could read the curiosity in their eyes as if they were desperately trying to understand how frogs could be so big. What saddened me more, honestly, is that repulsive as I may be nobody still invited me to their costume party this Halloween when I could have saved lots on the outfit! As in, zero-expense... well maybe except cab fare. Darn.

---

Fab hi's to Vera, GrannyMomCha, Bachlightyear, Glenn, Sweet Taray, Brownman Cat, Señor Helj, Splice, Jojitah and everybody else who's kept wasting time visiting this space despite the void. THANK YOU and... here I am. :]

Love is in the air...

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 08:25:00 +0000

As if global warming isn't enough migraine already.

I come in peace, men, I Come. In Peace.

--

Btw, an update... Well, not really an Update. More like, an announcement of sorts, something I feel like making so as to make it official at least to myself and my fans:

I'm on a diet.

I like everything 9 and all its multiples, but 26 is like my final cut before I start panicking for my skinny jeans. Yes, Sweet Taray, it's for real.

How would you like to fall?

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 14:51:00 +0000

I haven't exactly realized how long I'd been away from this poor space until I was moronically pressing "G" in an elevator while I was on the ground floor. I was alone but I still secretly wished security cameras weren't invented—because I even actually got upset when the doors wouldn't close and I stupidly kept hammering "G" before I came to my senses... then laughed at myself.

Which is self-explanatory at best, the laughing-at-self part. In fact it seems to be the only valid reaction on describing how some of the most ridiculously ambitious of us have been living their lives...

In college, I was fortunate enough to have worked for the official school publication. Had I not been "discovered" by a Literature instructor who sidelined as a band vocalist every other night, encouraged by a fabulous senior named Karen who I wish had stopped smoking by now, and trained by a very good media practitioner who loves his portraits taken, I wouldn't have been able to resurrect the paper that was in limbo for about six years. And it was a great experience indeed, especially because I worked with an amazing group of colleagues who eventually became my Friends. Yet the most memorable part of it all was during my last year with the campus paper: when I lost almost everything while the publication continued to regain its glory.

One time, another senior, and a friend, named Daniel, scoffed when I told him about my plans for the paper. Had he not been leading us well in our dance group back then I would have let him taste my white sneakers which I wore every Wednesday. "Yeah, good luck with that," was his unbelieving, mocking remark. Weeks later the paper was coming out regularly, with the school rector and the rest of the campus admittedly awaiting our opinion spread every issue... My good friend Daniel passed away in an unfair crime two years ago. But I'm sure he's sorry he doubted the paper's ability to stand up strong again—and very much happy with the simple feat of his former "apprentice."

But the other side of that story was not at all bright. Daniel wasn't alone when he ridiculed my dream... That was why I allowed myself to drop everything else if only to prove them wrong. Of course I succeeded! But at the expense of, yeah, "everything else." In one of my final columns before graduation, our adviser allowed us to go a bit all the way and write our minds, so I penned:

"I... lost much, perhaps even greater than liters of sacrifices, tanks of hard work,
and gallons of patience. I even lost friends because of our job (in the paper).
(The paper) is my time away from my family, my friends, my studies.
If that's not personal, then I don't know what it is. "

Sadly I didn't get even a Pulitzer citation for that, or an Oscar nomination, let alone an induction to the Drama Queen Cheesiness Hall of Shame. Nonetheless a gloomier truth now mocks me: It is happening again.

But in a grander, more "real" scale, if you must, with all the minimum pay action going on around us. I'm 25, my college paper days behind me, but it's like I'm hearing Daniel's words again: "Good luck with that." Good luck with life, is more like it, right, Danes? This isn't entirely regret. I'm merely sharing my embarrassing frustration cloaked in denial disguised as content (yeah if that's not hidden enough then I dunno what is. Boink.) before I implode and get unnecessary expenses at the office—kindergarten kids posing as employees and managers—whacked.

Life today offers many opportunities for victory as well as immeasurable obstacles to achieve success. On the other hand it isn't absolutely true that putting "balance" in your life is the way to go... Never has, never will. Something always has to give if you want to reach a finish line while it's still in your itinerary. Unless of course you're a drug-prostitution-smuggling-gambling lord with immediate kins holding positions in at least 13 national governments per continent. Or you're Manny Pacquiao.

Life today will keep demanding that you push and push forward no matter what you lose. Time waits for no man, blah, blah, blah. Fine, call me greedy, but please don't pose as a saint: You keep slow but steady so everybody's birthdays and anniversaries stick do your head like leeches, you can lose your dream; you fight like hell for your dream, but you will temporarily—but dangerously—put your personal life on hold.

Which downfall are you willing to risk?

Pitumpu't pitong puting tupa

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 12:43:00 +0000

Missing the twisties.

Things we don't need: Horny cashier people

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 15:30:00 +0000

At a grocery store.

Shopping nymph finally reaches the counter after seven days in line...

Cashier: Puwedeng pakibilisan diyan? (Could you hurry up?)

Bagger: Sagutin mo muna 'yung tanong ko. (Answer my question first.)

Cashier: Oh! Shat ap!

Shopping nymph scraping bag for coins: (What the—?)

Bagger: Puwede ba kitang mayaya lumabas? (Can I ask you out?)

Cashier: Ang kulit mo talaga. Shat ap na nga sabi! *giggles*
(You're so persistent. I said shut up! *pretends to be a virgin*)

Bagger leaning forward to cashier:
Ah, siguro may magagalit 'no, 'pag niyaya kita lumabas?
(So, you already have a boyfriend...)

Cashier slapping bagger's arm:
Heller! Wats du you care?! *giggles*

Bagger: (laughs like balls were being electrocuted)

Shopping nymph gripping a bolo inside the bag:
AY EWAN KO SA INYO 'DUN NA AKO SA KANTO BIBILI NG KATOL!

Itching to play

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 13:16:00 +0000

HOLY SHIT Final Fantasy 13 really really really looks amazing!

Annabelle Rama is a kidnapper

noreply@blogger.com (Paoper) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 13:39:00 +0000

It's been ages since my last trip to the cinemas. So even with "ang pula na ng mga mata mo kulang ka sa tulog" red eyes and feet exhausted from window shopping, I wholeheartedly grabbed the now-elusive opportunity to watch a movie when it waved at me; life is short. I was debating with myself and my empty head which to pick between Big Stan and Death Race. While the ticket lady was comparing the number of available seats for both flicks, I felt a subtly moving force... I was too tired to bother looking for the source of the strange... feeling. Stan had won my shallow being and I was handing out a crisp bill when suddenly:

"Hoy, ano ba? Ano'ng oras pa kayo aalis diyan sa Quezon City? Nandito na kami sa Makati, ang tatagal niyo! (What time do you plan to leave Quezon City? We're already here in Makati, slowpokes!)" My soul was there and then filled with surprising energy, the likes of which I only get from pizza, 13th month pay and James McAvoy.

Annabelle Rama was right beside me.

DEFINE STARSTRUCK. Hello! Not only is she among my favorite TV personality nowadays, but she's also my most super favoritest TV personality nowadays! In a split second my arm halted for a bit and with half-lives of their own my brain overruled me and my mouth blurted, "One ticket for For The First Time, 5:40." Apparently, my idol has that dissecting effect on me; that's how fabulously powerful she is. Anyway I was also planning to see that flick, for patriotism, her presence simply pushed me to do it now.

Pinoy movies since the 90's has always been more about make-up and physical projection than stories and actual acting performances. Especially in this case, with two of the local entertainment industry's dynasty offsprings at play—KC Concepcion and Richard Gutierrez—the default settings is just like that. However, I now, um... bend, corrected: For The First Time—after a looong time in Filipino movies—proved that some "golden children" do ACTUALLY work for and deserve their family's supposed fame. And let me just say now for clarity that we are NOT talking about a Gutierrez. KC has jumpstarted, fastracked and now almost done it: own the Filipino (sucker) showbiz devotee.

The biggest danger now for her—as with other dynasty babies—is to become her predecessor, her mother. First let's describe the movie this way: FTFT is an e-p-i-c divided into two parts, the first half being a series of Bubble Gang skits helmed by the rockstar Candy Pangilinan and the other half bearing Maalaala Mo Kaya's aura via, of course, KC and her support Richard. (What can we say? The stars' mother networks perpetually want IN on EVERYTHING.) FTFT had a fairly acceptable story enough to keep you from regretting that popcorn bucket. Given that, and following the premise opening the fifth paragraph of this post, we can now say the flick had its fate naturally relying on the acting "prowess" of its cast. Which only half of them satisfactorily delivered, but nobody really noticed save for the main course: Sharon Cuneta's firstborn.

Philip Salvador needs to step away from the tensed-face technic patented by Maricel Soriano. Pilar Pilapil should stay just as fabulous. TJ Trinidad needs to confess. Waaay overdue Richard needs to learn acting. And his daddy Eddie to make real films like all veterans should and for beefcakes stop piggybacking on his kids. CANDY PANGILINAN ROCKS. Denise Laurel needs to shut up, and Karla Humphries to stay away from face powder. Gee Ann Abrahan, Beatriz Saw and Bruce Quebral need to disappear, NOW. Bubbles Paraiso needs to redirect herself and her entire life to more useful things away from filmmaking. KC needs to review mommy's entire filmography and learn to AVOID EMULATING SHARON CUNETA.

She gave an applaudable performance in For The First Time. But some Sharon-ness just reeked off the big screen and it was a bit tiring.

But what do I really know. Or care. I saw a movie with my idol and that's fabulously enap.