By now, you guys probably know about my friend Marco. For those of you who don’t, Marco is in a band and from what I can tell, being in a band entails having two of the most awesome perks in the whole fucking world: 1) Performing in fuckloads of concerts, being gawked at by random Marikina Orcs (a term I use to describe those scummy-looking kids from Marikina; you know, those who wear ratty old jeans with black band shirts of some random Emo band. Also, I’m really not sure if they’re from Marikina but who the fuck cares?) 2) Having the privilege of dragging your friends to the same concerts and have the same orcs gawk and throw silly, offensive remarks at them.
Case in point: Last Friday’s Fete de la Musique 2006 which was held in the SM Mall of Asia in Pasay city. Fete is supposedly one of the most anticipated musical event in the country and apparently is the one single day when all the smelly Marikina orcs scrounge up a few bucks from their parents, liberally apply hair product on their hair, rock their decrepit skateboards and troop towards that loud source of music like stoned, foul-smelling lemmings dude pare chong.
Anyway, I was backstage waiting for Marco’s band to come up on stage, totally rocking out to the music of other great indie bands, scoping out the field for chicks who look like they have questionably low morals and who look like they’re going to let me stick three fingers up their heinies if I tell them I’m like part of a band and they should totally do me because fucking musicians makes them cool or something; when I had an epiphany— a revelatory, intuitive realization that would forever change how I live my life…
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I want to be a musician.
[blank space for laughter, tears or whatever]
No seriously, I want to be a fucking rock star man. I mean, I think it’s a sound idea. I’ve played numerous gigs when I was in my sophomore year of High school and I’m a semi-talented guitarist/singer who occasionally impresses girls with my repertoire of Righteous Brothers and Madonna songs.
So yes, if I put my mind into it, I could definitely make it big in the rock scene. The problem is my musical taste has evolved a lot since high school. Actually, nowadays, I find rock music too loud, angsty and pretentious. And I know a lot of you would probably stop reading this blog after I say this but what the hell, I find myself listening a lot to girl groups.
I don’t know what the fuck happened, but every time I hear Destiny’s child’s Cater to you play on my music player, I get all warm and flighty inside.
In my head, I envision my old high school’s amphitheater filled to the brim with proud parents for the yearly foundation day exercises. I imagine my dad sitting beside my mom, camera in hand waiting for his eldest son to do him proud. I then picture the curtains parting and I’m standing there, barely visible through the smoke and colorful lights.
I step up with two girls to the microphone and bust a wicked impression of Beyonce Knowles, complete with a skimpy gold dress:
Let me cater to you
Cause baby this is your day
Do anything for my man
Baby you blow me away
I got your slippers, your dinner,
your desert and so much more
anything you want just let me
cater to you. Insipre me from
the heart, can't nothing tear us
apart…
At this point, I could imagine a single, silent tear rolling down my dad's cheek but it's not because of my vocal range or what I have achieved in such a short span of time but rather because of the realization that somewhere he failed as a father. He failed so miserably that his eldest son is now on stage singing a song about fetching the slippers of a balding 40 year old wife beater with a bunch of skanky high school hoes.
Christ I'm crying.
A lot of people ask me how it feels to be overwhelmed by a deluge of both praise and hate mail. Well, it’s indescribable really: You know that feeling when you take a dump, look down the bowl and you see a huge-ass turd? It’s like that. You feel fulfilled but at the same time, dirty.
I mean, how would you feel if you get emails like this everyday?
You emulate a young kid who teases his classmates nothing more than “pangit ka.” Very immature indeed. Anyways, you did get a lot of comments from readers for your article.
Making use of a provocative write-up to get publicity. Good or bad publicity is still publicity. Well, your name’s a bit famous now. Too bad, a lot might be putting you in their list of assholes.
For an article that can be written by a grade school student… You did get a lot of hits for your homepage… well mabye that’s the only reason you made your article. None the less, very immature and superficial.
Hope that God will judge you by the way you dress, comb your hair, scent of your perfume and the way you stand and smile.
superfluous, pretentious and hifalutin words; a trifling attempt to abase my writing which, as we all know, is immaculate. Yes, this is profoundly annoying to me if that’s what you’re wondering about, but it’s more of how the message is composed and less about what the actual message is.
Mike "Fucking" Villar
"a Manila-based blogger made famous by his Atrocities of Friendster series, a regular feature he publishes on his blog where he mercilessly criticizes and mocks pictures of ugly people he stumbles upon on popular social networking site, Friendster. Although a lot of people are offended by what he writes, long-time readers of his blog regard him as a brilliant satire writer."
-Taken from my WikiBios page
