<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945</id><updated>2011-04-22T04:52:39.104+08:00</updated><title type='text'>marooned six times</title><subtitle type='html'>redemption amidst the red streaks of that shiny disco ball.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>50</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-115209434829845458</id><published>2006-07-05T18:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-07-08T11:21:55.813+08:00</updated><title type='text'>moving on to a new blog!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;im moving on to a new blogsite!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g86/bretch/blj.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bretch.livejournal.com"&gt;http://bretch.livejournal.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-115209434829845458?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/115209434829845458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=115209434829845458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/115209434829845458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/115209434829845458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2006/07/moving-on-to-new-blog.html' title='moving on to a new blog!!!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-114412697151835724</id><published>2006-04-04T12:57:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2006-04-04T13:02:51.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>anong kulay ko?</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  .maincontent {&lt;br /&gt;    width: 730px;&lt;br /&gt;    margin-right:0px;&lt;br /&gt;    padding:0;&lt;br /&gt;    font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&lt;br /&gt;  }&lt;br /&gt;  * html .maincontent {&lt;br /&gt;    width:760px;&lt;br /&gt;    w\idth:730px;&lt;br /&gt;  }&lt;br /&gt;  #compareV .rtcol {&lt;br /&gt;    float:right;&lt;br /&gt;    width:410px;&lt;br /&gt;    font-size:10px;&lt;br /&gt;    margin-left:10px;&lt;br /&gt;  }&lt;br /&gt;  #compareV .rtcol h3 {&lt;br /&gt;    color:#000;&lt;br /&gt;    font-size:18px;&lt;br /&gt;    font-weight:bold;&lt;br /&gt;    padding:0;&lt;br /&gt;    border:0px none;&lt;br /&gt;    margin-left:0; margin-right:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:3px&lt;br /&gt;  }&lt;br /&gt;--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/style&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://web.tickle.com/rd/50649/color/index.jsp?testname=colorogt&amp;resultid=B" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://web.tickle.com/cv/50649/http://i.emode.com/color/images/red_s.gif" width="120" height="115" border="0" alt="Take this test at Tickle" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;        Paul, your true color is Red!&lt;br/&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;p&gt;Your color is &lt;b&gt;red&lt;/b&gt;, the &lt;br /&gt;        color of racy sportscars, blushing cheeks, and luscious roses. Red &lt;br /&gt;        symbolizes passion, romance, and love. So, since you're ruled by red, &lt;br /&gt;        you probably trust your feelings more than your brain and tend to act &lt;br /&gt;        spontaneously.&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;!-- br--&gt;If you see something you want, you go for it without thinking &lt;br /&gt;        twice — impulsive is your middle name. You don't wait around for people &lt;br /&gt;        to make decisions, either; you dive right in. Quite the romantic, you &lt;br /&gt;        pay close attention to your emotions. In fact, if your heart isn't in &lt;br /&gt;        what you're doing, you won't be satisfied. Of course, even when you &lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        do&lt;/i&gt; pour all your energy into the projects you tackle, your impetuous &lt;br /&gt;        nature means your passions can shift as frequently as the wind. That's &lt;br /&gt;        why some reds have trouble with commitment. Our advice? Next time you're &lt;br /&gt;        feeling fickle, think before you act, if possible. You might be &lt;br /&gt;        surprised at the results. Overall, though, it's great to be red. No one &lt;br /&gt;        lives life more completely than you do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;br/&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;       &lt;a href="http://web.tickle.com/rd/50650/color/index.jsp?testname=colorogt&amp;resultid=B" target="_blank"&gt;What's Your True Color?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         Brought to you by &lt;a href="http://web.tickle.com/rd/50631/" target="_blank"&gt;Tickle&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-114412697151835724?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/114412697151835724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=114412697151835724' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114412697151835724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114412697151835724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2006/04/anong-kulay-ko_04.html' title='anong kulay ko?'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-114344044136328786</id><published>2006-03-27T14:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T14:20:41.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'>5:55am</title><content type='html'>As streaks of tangerine sunlight pierce through the seams of my polka dotted, azure-colored window treatment, I can’t help but notice the start of a brand new day. I look out the window and I see a sort of melon-vanilla-blueberry ice-cream horizon. Underneath it is the peeking sun, ready to start anew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“It’s been a long time since I appreciated these things,” I said to myself, which was momentarily followed by a deep sigh, clearing up my lungs. It was Sunday morning and it was good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it was, my entire life flashing before me. I could see it all: the regrets of my failures, relationships gone by and gone bad, my parents halfway around the world, friends, fiends and fiends of my friends, and finally, the uncertainty of this sun-kissed day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My life seems to be some kind of frozen delight, with pure and creamy streaks of vanilla, the mysterious but tempting sweet and sour taste of blueberry, and the fruity kick of melon.” I exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the time was running "early" and I was already sleepy, so I hit the sack and scrunched myself to bed. I wanted to call it a day as the new day started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ibalik natin ang "LIGAYA"&lt;br /&gt;                        --&gt;wowowee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-114344044136328786?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/114344044136328786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=114344044136328786' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114344044136328786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114344044136328786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2006/03/555am.html' title='5:55am'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-114806452689461932</id><published>2005-12-07T03:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T02:48:46.896+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bam! it hits you.</title><content type='html'>Kagabi lang, nakipagkita ang isa sa mga friends ko sa kin. Hingi daw sya ng advice. Binigay ko naman. Sabi ko: (kahit baduy sabihin)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"by the time you truly experience God, thats the time na ingngudngod ka nya sa putikan."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after that, na-hold up ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hayy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grabe ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-114806452689461932?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/114806452689461932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=114806452689461932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114806452689461932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114806452689461932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/12/bam-it-hits-you.html' title='Bam! it hits you.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-114806445660520643</id><published>2005-11-19T03:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2006-05-20T02:47:36.606+08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 male Pasig</title><content type='html'>happee burdee too mee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-114806445660520643?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/114806445660520643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=114806445660520643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114806445660520643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/114806445660520643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/11/20-male-pasig.html' title='20 male Pasig'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-112778512033619968</id><published>2005-09-27T09:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T09:38:40.343+08:00</updated><title type='text'>the tail end of September to remember</title><content type='html'>patapos na nga ang buwan&lt;br /&gt;at ang mga blockmates ko patapos na rin&lt;br /&gt;ako naman mag-LOA na.&lt;br /&gt;alis na akong papuntang UK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so? ano na kaya mangyayari?&lt;br /&gt;wala pa rin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good luck sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;sana maging happy kami lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"coz im leavin on a jetplane&lt;br /&gt;i dont know when ill be back again..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-112778512033619968?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/112778512033619968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=112778512033619968' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/112778512033619968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/112778512033619968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/09/tail-end-of-september-to-remember.html' title='the tail end of September to remember'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-112434526912785233</id><published>2005-08-18T14:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-18T14:07:49.133+08:00</updated><title type='text'>balakubak, knifehand block, me llamo es.</title><content type='html'>ages since my last post&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a relationship has gone by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;back to square one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-112434526912785233?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/112434526912785233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=112434526912785233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/112434526912785233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/112434526912785233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/08/balakubak-knifehand-block-me-llamo-es.html' title='balakubak, knifehand block, me llamo es.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-111414409527111072</id><published>2005-04-22T12:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-22T12:28:15.273+08:00</updated><title type='text'>oh oh o-huh yeah</title><content type='html'>friday nanaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just the usual summer afternoon na makulimlim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;parang uulan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dont believe such crap pero totoo nga ang sinasabi sa zodiac matches ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sheesh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-111414409527111072?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/111414409527111072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=111414409527111072' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/111414409527111072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/111414409527111072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/04/oh-oh-o-huh-yeah.html' title='oh oh o-huh yeah'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-111390562836660896</id><published>2005-04-19T18:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T18:13:48.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>ang pagbabalik ng natatanging bituin</title><content type='html'>for more or less than six months, my blog account was on its shutdown mode for the reason that i had to focus my time to something.... someone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to put it bluntly, bored ako at wala na ang aking minamahal. kay tagal na nang huli ko syang nakita. inaway ko kasi eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;siguro nakakapag-blog lang ako kapag hindi ako in-love o wala akong ka-date. this means that yes, im back to the supermarket again even though wala 3-month emotional guarrantee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the weird thing is that ngayon ko lang nalaman kung saan sya nakatira. i dated this guy named ken a few hours ago  and he was from the beautiful city of marikina. i told him that i dated someone from marikina before. yun pala malapit lang siya dun at kilala pa niya. magkachool-mate daw sila, tapos nung dadaan ako sa street nina ken, i almost missed the turn. nung nalaman niya na kilala pala niya si jeff, yung street na yun ay papunta pala sa kanila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gosh, i sooo not over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like i always say sa buhay, "all in GOD's time"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-111390562836660896?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/111390562836660896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=111390562836660896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/111390562836660896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/111390562836660896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/04/ang-pagbabalik-ng-natatanging-bituin.html' title='ang pagbabalik ng natatanging bituin'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-111390583648319085</id><published>2005-04-12T12:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-04-19T18:22:00.850+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Opening Message for the New School Year</title><content type='html'>Sa buhay, may mga bagay-bagay na tunay kong mahal. Ngunit minsan kahit&lt;br /&gt;ibinigay ko na ang aking panahon, puso at damdamin, hindi&lt;br /&gt;nangangahulugan na mamahalin na rin ako ng bagay na iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung niloloob ng Diyos mangyari ito sa buhay ko, marahil nga batay ito&lt;br /&gt;sa kanyang plano para sa sangkatauhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May mga bagay din na hindi ko talaga minahal. Handang-handa na akong&lt;br /&gt;mawala ang mga bagay na ito ngunit naroroon pa rin ito. Nakapagtataka&lt;br /&gt;di ba? Nang maglaon, natutuhan ko ring magkaroon ng pagpupursige upang&lt;br /&gt;mahalin din ang bagay na ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa kasalukuyan, kahit marami na along pagkakamaling nagawa sa aking&lt;br /&gt;pag-aaral, andito pa rin ako sa kolehiyong hindi ako binigo. Sa awa ng&lt;br /&gt;Diyos pareho pa rin ang course ko. Ngayong ko lang napatunayan na kung&lt;br /&gt;nararapat talaga sa iyo ang isang bagay, magkakaroon at magkakaroon ng&lt;br /&gt;paraan upang makuha ko yun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masaya din ako dahil magiging masaya ang aking mga magulang dahil&lt;br /&gt;hindi ko rin sila binigo. Fourth year na ako, medyo mahuhuli lang ng&lt;br /&gt;isang sem pero sana makatapos din.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saka na siguro ang pag-ibig. Maraming beses na akong nagsumikap.&lt;br /&gt;Ibinigay ko na ang lahat ngunit hindi talaga nagtagpo. Masaklap, pero&lt;br /&gt;sana matutunan ko ring makalimot. Sabi nga nila: "All in God's time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-111390583648319085?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/111390583648319085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=111390583648319085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/111390583648319085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/111390583648319085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2005/04/opening-message-for-new-school-year.html' title='Opening Message for the New School Year'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109903778632758067</id><published>2004-10-29T16:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-29T16:16:26.326+08:00</updated><title type='text'>well, anywayz.</title><content type='html'>chicka bells.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kefar kefar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;emote kung emote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;si Jeff na ba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hayy&lt;br /&gt;tama nga ang "The Missing meets the Big O"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;carry lang yan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109903778632758067?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109903778632758067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109903778632758067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109903778632758067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109903778632758067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/10/well-anywayz.html' title='well, anywayz.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109703410387090601</id><published>2004-10-06T11:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-06T11:41:43.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Torn</title><content type='html'>Come to think of it, hati talaga ang puso ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahirap turuan ang puso, kahit anong gawin ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit tama ang sinabi ng Sexbomb Dancers: "Kung ano ang nasa puso mo, sundin mo"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True, Correct, Confirmed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andyan nanaman siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa gilid&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa likod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa tabi-tabi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bakit mas malaki ang puso ko para sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bakit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109703410387090601?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109703410387090601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109703410387090601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109703410387090601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109703410387090601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/10/torn.html' title='Torn'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109695003240594737</id><published>2004-10-05T13:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T12:20:32.406+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sa Totoo Lang...</title><content type='html'>Pilit ko na siyang kinalimutan,&lt;br /&gt;pilit ko na siyang iniwasan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero bakit meron pa rin akong pagmamahal sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di pa ako nakuntento sa mga pangyayari...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marahil malabo lang talaga ang isip ko. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O dahil mas mahal ko siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sino ba ang aking pipiliin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maroon- Shirt o School&lt;br /&gt;Ateneo- Shirt o School&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di ko pa naman siya nakasap pero bakit apektado ako sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakausap ko na siya at mahal ko siya pero bakit kulang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas mahal ko parin ang una.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas mahal ko siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sa panahong nais ko na siyang kalimutan, iwasan...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may mga pahiwatig na naadyan siya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nasa tabi lang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nagmamasid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May mga balita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FCUK IT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109695003240594737?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109695003240594737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109695003240594737' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109695003240594737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109695003240594737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/10/sa-totoo-lang.html' title='Sa Totoo Lang...'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109641921489691936</id><published>2004-09-29T08:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-10-05T12:30:47.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dude!</title><content type='html'>It has been a while since my last post. Anyway, several things so far, and unfortunately, I don't have the time and energy to type it all here in my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met last Monday at 12:30 after my meeting with my CS groupmates. We went to numerous places, (as always) SM North, Greenhills and Mega all in one day. Its not the first time we did that. Last Saturday, we did the same thing, going to Rob East, Mega, Shang and Eastwood. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took him home that Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night, best friend Vip met with Jeff. Yes, He wanted to meet him long ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109641921489691936?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109641921489691936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109641921489691936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/dude.html' title='Dude!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109515607604205433</id><published>2004-09-24T17:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-24T15:17:37.440+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Marooned Six Times- Same Title, Brand New Meaning</title><content type='html'>It feels like I'm turning a new chapter in my life. You can really never tell what life could bring and it seems that the forces of the earth didn't fail on making that concept true. I try not to make this a center of my universe but I don't have anything to pull my weights on. There is no star in my universe, or maybe there is something forming in the center like a primordial mixture of gases concocting something that would breathe new life. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, there is this guy I have been seeing for a month, I met him in someplace best friend Janjan and I call home. You know the drill. It was Friday the 13th that night but I remember meeting him at around 1-2am that evening, I mean morning, making it a Saturday the 14th. Going to that place doesn't seem a big deal to me anymore, unlike before wherein I feel my heart pounding the guts out of me as the taxi cab turned right down the Maria Orosa. I was one of those nights, I mean midnights or maybe mornings that are just rudimentary to my weekly routine. &lt;br /&gt;I really missed the people there. The so called feeling of "brotherhood" and all of that easy acceptance of people. Anything and everything could happen to that place, it seems that it so good to be true. Like most things in life, most people, including myself, say that: "If its so good to be true, then it probably is." Its true at some aspect but this statement looks at life at a very much pessimistic way. What a sad way to celebrate such a short time here in earth.&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about "living life to the fullest" is not that difficult. Seeing all of those people in the dancefloor who are just wanting to be back in their teen-age days (if they had any fun at that time) would make any sexually repressed person realize that they are missing a big chunk of their life. (a close friend Vittorio comes to mind)&lt;br /&gt;Then, a few minutes later, the DJ in the dance club plays my favorite set of songs. From the techno version of Michelle Branch's Breathe, to a extended mix of hits from Italian superstar Moony to some other house anthems. Yes, I also missed the music.&lt;br /&gt;Under the vibrant colors of the strobe lights and the red streaks of light coming from the disco ball, this is a place where most of my dreams come true, even for a small fraction of time.&lt;br /&gt;Some people might say that this kind of happiness may be temporary, well its true. It is similar to a scenario where a cute guy or a person's crush passes by and suddenly waves and says "hi." It is just a trivial moment for that person of attraction but to me, it seems to be very relevant. Here comes the over-analyzation of things. Hmm, enough about that. Going to the dance club place is just like that. A good analogy is to compare it to life itself. Actually, there is no difference at all. In order for me to attract a guy that I fancy, I should do something about it, like look him into the eye or move closer. So that's what I did. I took the initiative to break the ice. I remember what I felt that moment: I was nervous at the same time joyful. I zeroed in to him, and I noticed that new was not moving away. This means that he also likes me. Damn, for the first time in my life, someone that I like also likes me. My heart pounds for that event to happen. Even though the dance floor was not that crowded, we still remained close to each other's proximity. Suddenly, I slowly moved my arm towards him. I made my hand walk and tried to softly touch his hand. His hand did not move a bit. What a stroke to luck. He likes me! He really really likes me. Finally, I took his hand and we held hands for a few minutes. He lead the way out the dance floor and we went to the balcony. We talked for the first time. The usual questions were asked: Whats ur name? Age? Hometown, etc. Both of us were nervous, but somehow, there is also a feeling of relief. So we went back inside and danced the night away. (and danced our brains out)&lt;br /&gt;This brings me back to my blog. My blog is like a part of me that could never be replaced, like my bead bracelet which he asked if he could have. I gave it to him. Its like giving myself to him. Awwh..&lt;br /&gt;Marooned Six Times is the name of the blog, but the meaning has changed. Marooned, because he studies in UP Diliman; marooned, like the dark red lazer lights inside the dance club; marooned no more because he saved me from being alone. Six times, because after six meets we knew each other better and more personally.&lt;br /&gt;This is the story of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109515607604205433?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109515607604205433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109515607604205433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109515607604205433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109515607604205433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/marooned-six-times-same-title-brand.html' title='Marooned Six Times- Same Title, Brand New Meaning'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109600659388733607</id><published>2004-09-24T14:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-24T14:16:33.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>time flies when you're having fun.</title><content type='html'>I met him yeysterday at 3:30pm. It was one of those rendezvous to remember. He was as cute as ever. We always have a so called "meet" at the former "I-hated it before" malls of my life: the EASTERN prime spots. Setting my architectural and structural biases aside, we did what we always did there: go inside the grocery area, check out the same old clothes collections of the chain botiques and just eat at Jolli afterwards. I really like that setup, because Im used to it. At least we both enjoy what we're doing and we both enjoy each other's company. (despite the self-consciousness we both have for each other when one complements the other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;Another enlightening moment was in philo class. My prof said that TRUTH reveals itself like a stripper, not a flasher. The very graphic analogy means that the TRUTH does not reveal itself all at once but one by one, it's like a process, each new day is another opportunity to know something or someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A recent incident comes to mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;I could still feel his hand touching mine.&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make this moment last...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109600659388733607?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109600659388733607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109600659388733607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109600659388733607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109600659388733607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/time-flies-when-youre-having-fun_24.html' title='time flies when you&apos;re having fun.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109592411619175113</id><published>2004-09-23T15:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-23T15:21:56.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>this week flew like a jiff</title><content type='html'>i cant believe it, its Friday again. This might be the lightest week in my entire academic college life. (i wish not only this week.) nothing seemsto be due on this week, maybe next week would not be like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yes, i finally confronted the ghost, casper the friendsly ghost. (actually he looks like the cartoon character.) We were both in the Filipinana section of the lib a few moments ago. I got my bag and didn't look at him. He didin't look at me as well. Now thats a real closure. I only need to know one thing, that he is just fooling around. Well, today I have proven it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;time to get back into my real life.&lt;br /&gt;life is good.&lt;br /&gt;love life.&lt;br /&gt;lovelife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'stig.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109592411619175113?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109592411619175113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109592411619175113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109592411619175113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109592411619175113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/this-week-flew-like-jiff.html' title='this week flew like a jiff'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109581432159834971</id><published>2004-09-22T08:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-22T08:52:01.596+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiram</title><content type='html'>Di ba, ako tao lang na nagmamahal at natutukso din,&lt;br /&gt;maiaalis mo ba sa 'kin&lt;br /&gt;na matutuhang kang mahalin&lt;br /&gt;sa bawat sandaling &lt;br /&gt;hiram natin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"dare you to move"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109581432159834971?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109581432159834971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109581432159834971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109581432159834971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109581432159834971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/hiram.html' title='Hiram'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109572996696398174</id><published>2004-09-21T09:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-21T09:26:06.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Di na siya Kachorra</title><content type='html'>I brought it to school today. My "brand new" second hand car. Everything went well except for that steep hill on Boni Serrano. I almost lost control when I was going up after that standstill on the traffic. Thank God I did not bump into that jeepney. The next problem is I still don'y have the Ateneo sticker. Fortunately, when I entered I campus, the guards were not at all looking at my car. I can't believe it. I parked it near the gardens along the diversion road so that it won't be noticed. I wish that no violation sticker would be placed in the windshield. So help me God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109572996696398174?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109572996696398174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109572996696398174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109572996696398174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109572996696398174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/di-na-siya-kachorra.html' title='Di na siya Kachorra'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109564174799872692</id><published>2004-09-20T08:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T08:55:48.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'>* * * * * * * * * * *</title><content type='html'>hehe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hihi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*kilig*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know the drill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was a basketball game to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bwahaha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109564174799872692?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109564174799872692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109564174799872692' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109564174799872692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109564174799872692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/blog-post.html' title='* * * * * * * * * * *'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109538213352083064</id><published>2004-09-17T08:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-17T08:48:53.520+08:00</updated><title type='text'>wala lang. Friday lang naman</title><content type='html'>it was a dark and rainy Friday.&lt;br /&gt;nothing special&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just a plain old bretch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wishing for my dreams &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109538213352083064?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109538213352083064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109538213352083064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109538213352083064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109538213352083064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/wala-lang-friday-lang-naman.html' title='wala lang. Friday lang naman'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109521705795873026</id><published>2004-09-15T10:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-15T10:59:33.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>fluffy weekdays</title><content type='html'>Nothing monumental in terms of academic life this week, except for the Theo exam tomorrow. I don't know how the hell am I going to study for that test. But everything else seems like smooth sailing for me. Not to mention the unexplainable two free cuts for CS. Marketing mock defense was a complete mockery. Good thing it happened earlier this week making it easier for me to move on. Clearly, a few minutes after that defense, it didn't matter anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately for me and my ka-benchmates, they don't hang out by the good ol' tree anymore. Maybe everyone's busy for that marketing pass. Good luck to everyone. So help us God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smooth sailing indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109521705795873026?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109521705795873026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109521705795873026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109521705795873026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109521705795873026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/fluffy-weekdays.html' title='fluffy weekdays'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109513630496036386</id><published>2004-09-14T13:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T13:09:09.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Memoriam</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Kachorra&lt;br /&gt;December 2003- May 2004&lt;br /&gt;1979 Volkswagen Beetle&lt;br /&gt;NLK770&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos.friendster.com/photos/93/11/2551139/3870087284963l.jpg" width="192" height="259"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tunay na maraming alaala ang nabuo sa maliit na kotseng ito. Nang una ko itong ginamit papuntang Katipunan Avenue, may kakaibang pakiramdam akong nadama. Parang may natamo akong tagumpay. Nabagtas ko ang isa sa mga mapanganib na kakalsadahan sa Metro Manila. Dahil sa kotseng ito, lalo akong naging confident sa buhay (cheesy di ba?) Pero korny man pakinggan, tunay ngang binago ni Kachorra ang buhay ko.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halos lahat ng MG ay nakasakay na dito. Naalala ko ang isang gabi galing sa Ortigas Center papuntang Ateneo at UP. Sakay pa nun sina Elgin, Josef, Mario at Janjan. Yun ang unang araw ng MG day na may Kachorra. 'Stig. Pagkatapos noon, sumakay pa sina Vip, Paolo at Wendell pagdating ng Katips. Walang katapusang pag-ikot sa QC circle ang nangyari, medyo nakakahilo nga eh. Tapos tumigil ng sandali upang tingnan ang mga "paninda" sa kalsada na iyon. Nakakatakot ngunit nakakatawa din.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nawala pa sa likod ng SM North. Scary di ba? Ngunit nakapunta rin sa Timog at kumain sa Hotshots sa tabi ng ABS.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At papunta na sanang Bed nun nang bigla na lang umusok si Kachorra sa may Cubao. Sabi nga ni Wendell: "Bretch, Bretch, umalis ka dyan, baka sumabog." Ayan napurnada na tayo.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salamat sa Diyos at natuloy din isang gabi ang pinanabikan. Di naman complete attendance nun, at least nakaBedang na. Sina Mario, Paolo, Armen, Wendell, Janjan ang kasama nun. Kumarera si Paolola. Exciting nga. Si Janjan, alas kuwatro na nang kumarera. Sabi ko, "Janjan, we need to go." Tapos, naligaw pa kami sa South Expressway mula Maynila. (ang taray no?) Sa Merville Exit na yata lumabas. Natulog ng sandali sa house ni Jan tapos bumulaga ang Vienna Sausage and Eggs breakfast sa table nila.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maraming beses rin akong tinirik ni Kachorra, mabuti naman at hindi ako natsugi. Isang insidente noon ay tumirik siya sa may construcution sa Katips, buti na lang at may malapit na talyer dun. Alternator, Fan Belt, change oil, wiper, atbp. Nagets ko na rin siya. Tandaan: walang radiator ang Volks ha.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kachorra: sa lahat ng kotse ko, ikaw pa rin ang number one. Paalam na...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109513630496036386?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109513630496036386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109513630496036386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109513630496036386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109513630496036386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/in-memoriam.html' title='In Memoriam'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109512708754576367</id><published>2004-09-14T09:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-14T09:58:07.546+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how time flies...</title><content type='html'>i've been seeing this guy for a month now, how time flies...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kasama nang luma kong kotse, ibabaon ko na sa limot ang mga nakaraan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dito na lang ako sa may patutunguhan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;isang buwan na ang nakalipas mula nang makilala ko siya isang umaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;naalala ko na nagkadikit ang aming mga balikat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;unti-unting kaming lumapit sa isa't isa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at dahan-dahan humaplos ang kamay ko sa kanya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at hinawakan ko ang kamay niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at hinawakan rin niya ang kamay ko..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kami ay lumabas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at ako'y kinausap niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;medyo kabado pa ako noon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********&lt;br /&gt;and everything, as they say, was history.&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in memoriam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109512708754576367?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109512708754576367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109512708754576367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109512708754576367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109512708754576367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/how-time-flies.html' title='how time flies...'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109477691866183412</id><published>2004-09-10T08:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-10T08:41:58.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'>eww. that's so gross!</title><content type='html'>friday nanaman po. buti na lang nilipat ni maam henson yung submission ng pass 3. sa aking pananaw, hindi namin kayang madaliin yun hanggang bukas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eto pa rin si bretch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;medyo contented na.&lt;br /&gt;masaya kahit mag-isa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;may nagmamahal naman pala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bretch, wag nang umasa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dahil ang saya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sa yo lang matatamasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bwehehe! umasa ka.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"have a little faith in me..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109477691866183412?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109477691866183412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109477691866183412' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109477691866183412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109477691866183412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/eww-thats-so-gross.html' title='eww. that&apos;s so gross!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109469544225879205</id><published>2004-09-09T09:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-09T10:04:02.260+08:00</updated><title type='text'>naubusan ng damit, sinuot ang pinstripe pants.</title><content type='html'>haven't been to the laundrymat lately, that is because I always go home late due to the piling projects due this Sat, the dreaded marekting pass 3! Well nonetheless, I haven't dredged myself yet in cram mode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;yes, its one of those damned instances wherein I always get surprised when I bump into him, I did not plan it, but as always, accidents play a vital role in the increased number of my traumatic experiences in life. That big headed bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;fashion fridays have now been changed to fashion thursdays. One reason is that there is little expousre of my presence during fridays. Another reason is that I could go head to head (pun intended) with that bitch. Bwhahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;Card prediction is another thing. Last night Em and Weng gave their card predictions for me. Some jive with the present situation that Iam in. Well most of the predictions. But as they say, it is just a prediciton, there is always a 50-50 interplay between destiny and human action. There is presumably a 50% destiny factor that is why I always bump into him when I don't want to but the other 50% which counts on myself doesn't work. TORPE ka kasi! -Iam scolding myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109469544225879205?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109469544225879205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109469544225879205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109469544225879205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109469544225879205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/naubusan-ng-damit-sinuot-ang-pinstripe.html' title='naubusan ng damit, sinuot ang pinstripe pants.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109461645470968071</id><published>2004-09-08T11:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-09T09:41:52.330+08:00</updated><title type='text'>freak cut</title><content type='html'>yes, like almost everyday of the past week, I arrived late for my marketing class. I rushed my guts out only to find out that it is an unannounced free cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesss!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;****&lt;br /&gt;Last night after that Fr. Dacanay talk, i saw him... again. I remember during the report that he did not look at me at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that night at around 6:15 pm, he looked at me, like he always did, even though it was a dark evening in the bench.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recited in philo class a few hours ago, we were asked on why the identification of the body and soul is not absolute. I was not planning to recite at all but my mesmerized face caught the lecturer's attention. He said to me: "yes Mr. Calambro?" So I told the class what was on my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sir I was thinking about another example of identification of the body. For example, a guy has this feelings for a girl but unfortunately he can't show it. When he has a chance to talk to the girl that he loves, he becomes "torpe" in a sense. That is why the body cannot truly represent the soul of the person in its entirity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Typing my blog in CS lecture. Bwahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109461645470968071?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109461645470968071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109461645470968071' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109461645470968071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109461645470968071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/freak-cut.html' title='freak cut'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109453491708354685</id><published>2004-09-07T13:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-07T13:28:37.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>stain it, flag it and Sta. Lu it</title><content type='html'>yesterday, i had a fight with my groupie Jem. Both of us can't determine the cause of this altercation but this morning, surprisngly, she was the first one to move and say sorry to me. Because of the bithc that I am, I was first snobbish at her apology but suddenly, my cold heart acknowledged that I was also wrong. I would say sorry to her in return tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*****&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of bitches, that madikit tumingin na akala mong sinong gwapo pero malaki naman ang ulo both literally and figuratively guy did what he does best again. Yes, that kind of tingin. Well, the only thing that I could do about it is to just look away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In connection to what I said to Vip a few weeks ago regarding his look which is now common among fags- that body-fit shirt and butt-enhancing pair of pants and that cropped up hair-do, I would like to say that he is trying to pull of a new look. Ha? What was he thinking. This time, he can't wear it well. A victim of his own vanity. Bwahahaha! Lumaki tuloy lalo yung ulo niya sa hair niya. He tried to sport a short hair with two parallel shavings on the side. Hindi bagay no! Yan kasi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;On another relevant issue in my life, I met Jeff yesterday in his so called most fav mall in the world: The RobEast-StaLu center. Im also starting to love that mall nonetheless. (and to love some other things more) I saw a different side of me after that. A side I have never shown to anyone. Hmm. He's really cute. I really like him. Hayyy. But the point is, I wish I could see him more often. I still have my doubts and hopes that is why Iam not banking my heart yet. I will still see what the weather holds for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109453491708354685?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109453491708354685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109453491708354685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109453491708354685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109453491708354685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/stain-it-flag-it-and-sta-lu-it.html' title='stain it, flag it and Sta. Lu it'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109446008204449542</id><published>2004-09-06T16:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-06T16:41:22.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'>tinodo na 'toh!</title><content type='html'>yes, finally, hopefull, wishfully, faithfully, we are ready to present the theo video tomorow, 3pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish that everthing would be alright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;both technically in the presenatation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and in the oral defense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish that the signs are right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish he's not fooling around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***don't go breakin my heart***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109446008204449542?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109446008204449542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109446008204449542' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109446008204449542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109446008204449542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/tinodo-na-toh.html' title='tinodo na &apos;toh!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109443392682825151</id><published>2004-09-06T09:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-06T09:25:26.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*puputok ang ulo ko sa sakit*</title><content type='html'>after the super final day of post production a few hours ago, (rendering and recording started at 2am) i went straight to my 730am class. (without doing any morning rituals) bwahaha! i feel so icky icky ya ah ahah looky looky whoa oah oah exciting cool ohh! (LSS from that cheesy sunday radio station)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to make things worse other than my lack of sleep, i just had a SIGN overload? what the heck is that? well it is one of those scenarios wherein two significant things come to a tangent. in layman's term this is where you could see, hear, or feel two symbols in a single sentence, area or time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to make it easier to understand, i will give the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was minding my own thing, sitting on one of the SEC catwalk benches waiting for my Philo101 class. I usually use that one hour break to finallly read my handouts. Today, I was kinda distracted because of the stress of my lack of sleep and the excitement of presenting the final broadcast quality video tomorrow. i took my video cam out just to view the video again, then tragedy struck. there came my two blockmates from philo class. the are of the same block as with the main topic of this blog. they said hi to me and one girl tried to make kulit of who is my crush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then that horizonatlly challenged girl was tried to talk to the first girl and said to her: " Kahapon, kasama ko si TOOT tapos puntahan daw namin yung &lt;BLOG TITLE&gt; guy, eh jongets naman yung &lt;BLOG TITLE&gt; guy." That is an example of the two signs in a single sentence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109443392682825151?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109443392682825151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109443392682825151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109443392682825151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109443392682825151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/puputok-ang-ulo-ko-sa-sakit.html' title='*puputok ang ulo ko sa sakit*'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109419508415884777</id><published>2004-09-03T15:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-03T15:04:44.160+08:00</updated><title type='text'>matulog ka sa harap ng pc at magmukmok...</title><content type='html'>hiyayay, friday nanaman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok naman ang CS defense kanina, thanks to that antipatikong ka-group ko,&lt;br /&gt;di naman kami na-prito dahil medyo alam naman niya yung topic, acoustic star kasi siya. buti na lang ang nabunot ko ay audio recording, what a strike! bwehe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;exactly 3:05 na ngayon habang nagtatype ako dito sa sa foyer. sus naman, ang dami pa ring dapat tapusin. buti naman at free cut ulit sa marketing. na-late pa ako kanina. buti nalang walang class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eto nanaman ako, gumawa ng isang bagay na pinagsisisihan ko. pucha talaga, what was i thinking. gawd dammit! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;these are the worst fridays of my life. (like last week)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;please, somebody save me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;naalala ko yung isang quote ni armen sa email niya: (hindi ito exact quote:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"if you really want something, then the whole world will conspire to make it yours"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ang masasabi ko lang ay:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wishing&lt;br /&gt;wanting&lt;br /&gt;loving&lt;br /&gt;live &lt;br /&gt;learn&lt;br /&gt;and love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109419508415884777?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109419508415884777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109419508415884777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109419508415884777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109419508415884777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/matulog-ka-sa-harap-ng-pc-at-magmukmok.html' title='matulog ka sa harap ng pc at magmukmok...'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109417202394622703</id><published>2004-09-03T08:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-03T08:40:23.946+08:00</updated><title type='text'>charos!</title><content type='html'>what was I thinking? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I was not)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the worst thing I should have done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayan naphiya tuloy ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrgh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109417202394622703?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109417202394622703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109417202394622703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109417202394622703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109417202394622703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/charos.html' title='charos!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109411392579202990</id><published>2004-09-02T16:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-09-02T16:32:05.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>happy new bitch!</title><content type='html'>Had the worst identification exam in my entire life. But of course, it is obvious that i can't memorize things that well and I also don't read much. But what the hell. They say that the rest the after that was history. Hmph!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********&lt;br /&gt;So ano yun? Kumaway-kaway pa siya. Anubayan... ako ba talaga yung kinawayan niya? Wala namang ibang tao dun kundi kami lang ni Kynan. (obviously di na si Kynan yun.) Sus, sana nag-hi din ako. Waah! Ano ba kasi ang gagawin ko!! Torpe! Fcuk it!! Happy new bitch, I mean month pala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********&lt;br /&gt;Good luck sa kin sa defense sa CS bukas.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109411392579202990?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109411392579202990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109411392579202990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109411392579202990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109411392579202990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/09/happy-new-bitch.html' title='happy new bitch!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109393220230493970</id><published>2004-08-31T13:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-31T14:03:22.306+08:00</updated><title type='text'>small time production, commending my worst, seeing destiny, being stupid, gay men are not monogamous, last day of August</title><content type='html'>*******&lt;br /&gt;Whew! That was a very long title. I wish that I could write a long substantial composition to top that. This is what happened today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We presented the God-forsaken history video. That video should have not shown in any medium possible no thanks to the class-suspending typhoon last Thursday. Our report was planned originally as a LIVE skit with all of the horrible lines and actions. Because of cancellation of classes, I decided to write, direct, act, produce and edit a small time video for my group. Thank GOD for that typhoon! Bwahahaha! I did not have any big scenes in mind, just a simple news program with one commercial break. We filmed last Saturday afternoon and I was editing that video until Monday night. I rendered a rough copy to my video cam and that was the one and only full copy. It had some problems with the audio but what the heck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, we presented the report. First part was the boring lecture in tri-media. A nice term but in our report tri-media means reporting in three visual materials: Manila paper, chalkboard and acetate. Even our prof laughed at us because of the "creativity" of the different visual aids. But nonetheless, the small time video amazed everyone. It was informative and comic at the same time. Talk about some last minute monsoon to brighten my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;I had another chance to talk to him live but I chickened out- AGAIN. He was right there, in front of our bench, looking helpless and he was pushing a medium sized mobile chalkboard towards the socsci foyer. He was right there in front of me for minutes, not moving, like expecting a cue from the director for me to enter the scene and help him. Wahhh! Earlier that day during marketing class, I realized that AGAIN, love is like marketing as well. The hardest part of introducing a product was breaking the ice to the consumers. Furthermore, if the consumers liked you at first, how can the company sustain the spark? What if the product goes on a rapid decline? Marketers say that it is better to move the advertising and promotions of the product slowly but surely. In a way, consumers would form a habit of liking the product, gradually loving it and in the end; there would be an established consumer loyalty. Maybe I could do that as well. After that class, philosophy also gave some insights that struck my reality. "Life should be spontaneous." It is hard to be following scripts all the time, sometimes, I should take a leap of faith (or fate) and be not responsible for my actions. The world is full of surprises (and represses.) The point is I would die someday so what is the point of being cautious. (I should be lecturing myself.) Maybe I’m not ready yet. Just maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;******&lt;br /&gt;So what if he has a boyfriend? As the old Pinoy saying goes: “Mas madali mahuli ang manok kung nakatali” And further still, gay men are still men, and most men are not monogamous. (a lesson from queer as folk)   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109393220230493970?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109393220230493970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109393220230493970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109393220230493970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109393220230493970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/small-time-production-commending-my.html' title='small time production, commending my worst, seeing destiny, being stupid, gay men are not monogamous, last day of August'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109383573395491476</id><published>2004-08-30T11:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-30T11:15:33.953+08:00</updated><title type='text'>back to zero</title><content type='html'>thats just life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i came to this point wherein i don't believe in leaps of faith,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of magic sparks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and wishful thinking,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmm,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109383573395491476?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109383573395491476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109383573395491476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109383573395491476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109383573395491476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/back-to-zero.html' title='back to zero'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109382877428531442</id><published>2004-08-30T09:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-30T09:19:34.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>two days notice</title><content type='html'>its the 30th day of August, more than a day to go before a new month. Can't beleive that the "BER" months are starting already. How time flies when you're not having fun. Hehehehe! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still the same old routine. After a hell week of submissions, here is a new batch of projects due next week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what the heck, at least there is something to look forward to, a lame thing such as the changing of the month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend was great though, went out with my two bestest friends in travel, Jan and Nino. That night was kinda wierd but looking back at the "EB" incident with bestfriend Nino, I just smile and laugh at the awkward situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also watched Princess Diaries 2. I cried at one scene wherein the so called "love team" said cheesy romantic lines to each other. It never hurts to be an escapist at sometime, well not always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109382877428531442?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109382877428531442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109382877428531442' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109382877428531442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109382877428531442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/two-days-notice.html' title='two days notice'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109358027905147042</id><published>2004-08-27T11:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-27T12:17:59.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>post tropical depression sickness</title><content type='html'>you can never expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is what life is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after all of the tension on the dreaded day of 26th, it all goes down to no classes, and all the stress starts to pile up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because we don't have any venue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OAS sucks because there is nothing available for that day. maybe i should reserve the church of the Gesu just in case. Hahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, haven't seen him for almost four days now, i said last night that my love for that big headed short guy is gradually disappearing but suddenly, this lonely friday tries to revive him back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;torn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;arrived late at first class,&lt;br /&gt;didn't recite well at the second&lt;br /&gt;and there's a long line at OAS,&lt;br /&gt;not to mention the lack of facilities in this school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how can i give the audience the full motion picture experience?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the video is great though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no gimiks this night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even my friends are like the facilities on reserve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one wants to bond with this lonely guy with no family or friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waaahh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loser.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109358027905147042?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109358027905147042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109358027905147042' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109358027905147042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109358027905147042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/post-tropical-depression-sickness.html' title='post tropical depression sickness'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109299376299683390</id><published>2004-08-20T17:14:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-20T17:22:42.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'>day 8 of production</title><content type='html'>I doesn't feel like a Friday today. The main culprit for this confusion is the Quezon City Holiday yesterday. We shot the parlor scene in Angono Rizal. Talk about on location. We were filmed the OBB at 1am. This is my biggest production stint yet. Unfortuantely, I can't claim 100% of the rights. I'm planning to give Shiela's boyfriend, Peter Paul a producer status. Thatt is why Im planning to change the production outfit name from Bretch Productions to San Tayo? Productions. That way I will not be accused of claiming all the glory. That's all folks, I have to go home early so that I could get the 24 oras and WazzupWazzup theme later at six. Ciao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109299376299683390?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109299376299683390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109299376299683390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109299376299683390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109299376299683390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/day-8-of-production.html' title='day 8 of production'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109270859211310842</id><published>2004-08-17T10:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-17T10:09:52.113+08:00</updated><title type='text'>umuulan.</title><content type='html'>Second day of filiming for one of my videos due on the 26th. Raining so hard today. Not a good day for outside shots. We haven't even finished half of the scenes and its already Tuesday!! Oh my God! I hate it. Not to mention the papers which are also due on the same day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little rain won't hurt anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109270859211310842?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109270859211310842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109270859211310842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109270859211310842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109270859211310842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/umuulan.html' title='umuulan.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109265362287588536</id><published>2004-08-16T18:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-16T18:53:42.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'>halfway between the dumpster and God.</title><content type='html'>expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then don't expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and just one day&lt;br /&gt;you'll be surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thats why I hate life. &lt;br /&gt;life never ceases to surprise me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i expect something, it doesn't happen. When I already lost hope, there is that thing. This wanting, losing and surprising makes my head hurt, at the same time, a warm tingling sensation comes to mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I should stop expecting. That always works. I always say that Im a pessimist. Im still am. In the end, what Im so pessimistic about, the opposite happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does. He don't. He won't. Never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109265362287588536?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109265362287588536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109265362287588536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109265362287588536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109265362287588536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/halfway-between-dumpster-and-god.html' title='halfway between the dumpster and God.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109263829215857302</id><published>2004-08-16T14:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-16T14:42:16.940+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crammed!</title><content type='html'>everything dies on the 26th. Two video presentations rolled into one single day. Fortunately we filmed some good material today, the commercial scene and a few ambush interviews. I wish that we could get some relevant respondents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Almost forgot him already. There is this new guy from last Friday night's taping for the video. I really liked the guy. Even Janjan says that he is cute. This is such a good thing because if Jan says that the guy is cute, then he is very much cute. Jan has a high standard for guys, and by the looks of it, Jeff is really a prized catch. Never felt anything like this ever. For the time being that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thats a wrap." I wish i could say those magic words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109263829215857302?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109263829215857302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109263829215857302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109263829215857302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109263829215857302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/crammed.html' title='Crammed!'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109237985681730034</id><published>2004-08-13T14:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-13T14:50:56.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday the 13th</title><content type='html'>Remember the defunct show with the same title? Well, this post is not in any way related to that. Its just one of those days wherein the 13th day of month comes with this day of the week: Friday. Friday is a day where mankind attributes so many things. No other day comes close. Friday is said to be the day Jesus died on the cross. A song was about Friday becoming a day of love. Not to mention the self-proclaimed Fashion Fridays for my clothes. I really love Friday. Friday marks the start of the weekend. Friday nights are the best because you wake up Saturday morning, (logically, duh) unlike Saturday nights where you chase the Sunday sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite number is 13. During highschool, I always get the number 13 for my class number. During Friday the 13th, always get lucky...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its exactly 2:37pm right now, Jan and I are planning to go to Malate. This was a snap decision. Fortunately, tonight, I mean later this morning, the Malate visit would have a cause. I would be doing a feature on film for my homosexuality creative feature slash documentary. I asked my friend to be my cameraman, fortunately, he agreed. Im so nervous for this journalistic stint because what if I get caught with my cam. Awwh. Good luck to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;The rock version of the song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" still runs through my mind. Today marked another significant sign in my life: a line of the song goes like this: "Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly." I saw him this morning after philo class and he wore blue!! The same shade and hue of blue that I am wearing right now. What a coincidence. I this a sign? He even has a red Jansport bag. I brought this day my CocaCola bag which is also red. Another coincidence? I can't believe it. Life never ceases to surprise me. I wish I could talk to him later. I wish? I should? I could? I would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night when i turned on the TV, the channel was already set in Studio 23. They were showing the movie entitled, "Can't Hardly Wait." It stars Enthan Embry and some hor girl. It was a movie that almost captured every feeling that I feel right now. The main character, who is Preston, is similar to me. He loved the girl for so long but he never met her, and never told her either. All shit happens but in the end, they met each other. A significant line still sticks to my mind from the movie: "There is such a thing called fate but when that moment comes, it is still up to you to make it happen."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109237985681730034?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109237985681730034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109237985681730034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109237985681730034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109237985681730034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/friday-13th.html' title='Friday the 13th'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109227325513859606</id><published>2004-08-12T09:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-12T09:14:15.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>o ano? game knb?</title><content type='html'>kailangan ko nang tapusin ito. tigilan na ang pagiging torpe. kailangan itodo ko na ito, kailangan ko nang gawin ito... kailangan ko na siyang awayin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ngayon ay theo report nila. ang ganda ng ng topic: sex in media. gamitan ng ng comm theory. haha! ipriprito ko sila sa defense. todo pakinig na ako sa report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sana mangyari na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sana maglakas na ako ng loob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109227325513859606?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109227325513859606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109227325513859606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109227325513859606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109227325513859606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/o-ano-game-knb.html' title='o ano? game knb?'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109221456241712140</id><published>2004-08-11T16:55:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T16:56:02.416+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere over the rainbow- the song</title><content type='html'>Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high,&lt;br /&gt;There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby.&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue,&lt;br /&gt;And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I'll wish upon a star&lt;br /&gt;And wake up where the clouds are far behind me.&lt;br /&gt;Where troubles melt like lemon drops&lt;br /&gt;Away above the chimney tops&lt;br /&gt;That's where you'll find me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly,&lt;br /&gt;Birds fly over the rainbow,&lt;br /&gt;Why, oh why can't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where troubles melt like lemon drops&lt;br /&gt;Away above the chimney tops&lt;br /&gt;That's where you'll find me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly,&lt;br /&gt;Birds fly over the rainbow,&lt;br /&gt;Why then, oh why can't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109221456241712140?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109221456241712140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109221456241712140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109221456241712140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109221456241712140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/somewhere-over-rainbow-song.html' title='Somewhere over the rainbow- the song'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109219928204524999</id><published>2004-08-11T12:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-11T12:41:22.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'>somewhere over the rainbow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc33;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff66;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;gg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ffff;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;gg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6666cc;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;midweek. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span &gt;midterms exams results for cs was released today. 60 was the passig score, i got a 67. Thats ok because i got a 10point additional bonus. Hahaha! 77 over 100 is my new score. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday the 13th's coming up. i always get lucky on that infamous day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it always hits you when you're off guard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bore me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish that i could jump over that rainbow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish.&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:webdings;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109219928204524999?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109219928204524999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109219928204524999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109219928204524999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109219928204524999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/somewhere-over-rainbow.html' title='somewhere over the rainbow'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109202391375176545</id><published>2004-08-09T11:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-09T11:58:33.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'>of rainy days and Mondays</title><content type='html'>It was a dark and rainy weekend both figuratively and literally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being the host for the second marketing pass type-out, (the only gimmick for Jem and Gracienne) I decided to go out. It was just a spur of the moment decision knowing that the group was planning to have the project making until the end of time. Fortunately they didn't and by seven in the evening, the OC members started to bail out, so right there I texted Jan that im free for that evening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jem, the driver of that gray Tamaraw FX, together with Gracienne, the so called disco girl, dropped me off at Shangri-la Plaza, my super duper favorite mall. Everytime I go inside the mall, I feel something different, that warm fuzzy feeling of life not troubled by complications and worries. I wish I could go back to that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few minutes, there was Janjan at the back of Starbucks. He wore the same red Volkswagen logo shirt during the days of my deceased car. Yes, I used to have a car, but one day it just won't work. I truly loved that car. Unfortunately, it seems that everything I love just disappears. I should really stop loving anything or anyone for that matter so that I won't get hurt if that thing or person leaves me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109202391375176545?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109202391375176545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109202391375176545' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109202391375176545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109202391375176545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/of-rainy-days-and-mondays.html' title='of rainy days and Mondays'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109171327273733901</id><published>2004-08-05T21:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-05T21:41:12.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'>how many times should you accidentally see a person?</title><content type='html'>Marooned six times: Matagal nang yan ang title ng blog ko pero di kami pareho ng color ngayon. Pero kahit papaano six times ko pa rin siya nakita. Sana naman tigilan ko na itong pagiging torpe ko. Sana, maging friend ko na siya. Lahat ata ng friends ko friend na siya, except for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character flaw ko talaga ang mawalan ng salita kapag nasa critical moments na nang buhay. Kaya siguro wala pa akong boyfriend ngayon kasi mabagal ako, mahina, walang diskarte. Lahat ng bagay na gawin ko laging half-baked, kulang at not enough vitamins. (kulang sa buhay-commercial)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lahat nalang ng taong nakakausap ko, sabi nila di daw kami bagay. Masyado daw kaming pareho ng ginagawa. Ewan ko lang ha. Sabi lang nila yon. Bahala na. Bathala na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabi ng iba, baka pinaasa lang niya ako. Ok lang yun. Maghihintay ako, hanggang sa dulo ng walang hanggan. (masyadong pang teleserye) Pero sa totoo lang, ganyan talaga ang buhay, hindi mo mapipilit ang isang tao na mahalin mo ka niya. Madalas na madaya ang tadhana. Ganyan lang talaga ang tadhana ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kilala niya kaya ako? Alam niya kaya na ako yung nakachat niya noon? Alam niya kaya na ako yung nag-add sa kanya sa friendster? Lagi ko siyang nakikita. Lagi niya akong nahuhuling tumitingin sa kanya? Alam niya kayang mahal ko siya? Baka... baka... baka hindi, baka hindi niya ako mahal... baka lang. Pero mahal ko siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109171327273733901?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109171327273733901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109171327273733901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109171327273733901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109171327273733901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/how-many-times-should-you-accidentally.html' title='how many times should you accidentally see a person?'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109159352313806824</id><published>2004-08-04T11:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-04T12:25:23.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life never fails to surprise us.</title><content type='html'>gawd. grabe na ito. siguro chinika nya niya. ang laki na talaga ng ulo niya. (figuratively and literally) Yung only common friend namin sa friendster, aba, medyo sinabi na sana makilala ko si Pizza Boy. Di ko alam kung aksidente yun o alam na nang friends niya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero kahit may ibig sabihin yun o wala, mahal ko pa rin siya. wala nang ibang mapupunta sa number 1, kahit may tumutubong olibo sa lupa sa labas ng bintana ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109159352313806824?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109159352313806824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109159352313806824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109159352313806824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109159352313806824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/life-never-fails-to-surprise-us.html' title='Life never fails to surprise us.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-109145138569067244</id><published>2004-08-02T20:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-08-02T20:56:25.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>olive green, and that memory of free cuts</title><content type='html'>can't expect what happens in life. some things are planned but most of the time, the course of events are just out of my hands. i try to forget but destiny never fails to remind me of him. why does he always appear out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but on the last night of the june pride, i went to golden maria's arms again. i went to that nocturnal farm where all of my kind meet. then i saw this farmer, growing the same olives in my mouth. it was savoury. it was all over my lips. i enjoyed it. i used my hands to pick some more fruit, or whatever that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deep inside, i am feeling something warm. but deeper inside, i still feel that marooned feeling with that pizza pie slice. what should i do? is this just recycling? still love him. i will wait, even forever for the cheese to melt or would i drink martinis with olives, savoury olives...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-109145138569067244?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/109145138569067244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=109145138569067244' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109145138569067244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/109145138569067244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/08/olive-green-and-that-memory-of-free.html' title='olive green, and that memory of free cuts'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494945.post-108917263718970532</id><published>2004-07-07T11:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-07-07T11:57:17.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first time, my sixth time.</title><content type='html'>Can't understand him. He looks at me as if it means something. Has he done his research. We even wore the same color of shirt that day. He's really cute. *SIGH* When will i ever talk to him. Saw him six times...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7494945-108917263718970532?l=bretch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/feeds/108917263718970532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7494945&amp;postID=108917263718970532' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/108917263718970532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7494945/posts/default/108917263718970532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bretch.blogspot.com/2004/07/my-first-time-my-sixth-time.html' title='My first time, my sixth time.'/><author><name>bretch</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16071458683162150533</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://photos.friendster.com/photos/14/26/2206241/23892624243159l.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
