Coo-King Clowns on a QB Stove On The Spot

I didn’t like that idea in the first place.

That Monday lunchtime was unholy. For 3 straight hours right after I woke up (late as usual), I attempted to finish reading Francisco Sionil Jose’s ‘The Pretenders’ without eating or drinking anything. I guess you got the idea that I didn’t even brush my teeth or wash my (eventually pimple-eradicating) face or at least changed some of my (ugh! stinking) clothes. I didn’t lift a centimeter of my body on that motherly pink satiny king size bed while surprisingly my brother and his long-time boyband buddy (brrr) were strumming loudly our electric guitar, playing wild wild My Chemical Romance’s “I Don’t Love You” and “The Black Parade” consecutively. Phew, another run-on.

Think about it; I didn’t wake myself up in spite of that wracking high volume of our desktop speakers inside our room that morning. And the ground guitar speakers. They were there, and I was there and they know that I was there. Blah.

Anyway, I fell asleep (again) for that strenuous activity. Heck, reading a novel would be tiresome for a non-literature sleazy porcupine like me. Hours prior to my waking and forced vocabulary building, I did a portion of my narrative report for the nearing deadline on Friday (FYI, it’s already my second time to finish Sionil’s novel, with the first done during my Philippine Literature book chapter summary reporting ALONE).

Then all of a sudden, my Mom, whom I had not been in good terms for the PC usage issue, woke me up hastily with winking merciful eyes and a gentle, yet persuasively convincing tone.

“Neil, ano, incoming senior and fourth year college students…”

“Grglegrlggle… eh ano ngayon?”, I mumbled

“Sali tayo,”

Looking at our Tweety Bird wallclock, it’s 1 pm. “Musta naman, anong petsa na po tayo makakarating dun?” I tried to close my eyes harder and cozied my baby pillow tighter, hoping that my grogginess would pamper her away from disturbing my sanctity.

“… sige na…”

The next thing I knew, I’m already wearing my red striped polo shirt and jeans inside a tricycle, holding a book, a digital camera, and an organizer containing my (wretched) ID, some class cards, and my recent internship registration form. My mom paid 30 pesos for the special trip rush to Dasma-Bayan. Walking out of consciousness, I guess.

I was really out of my mood. To think that thousands of hopefuls might have lined themselves up on a long long queue of students inside the Broadway Centrum when we get there, I was really pessimistic that an uninspired me would make it to their screening.

And I was right.

We reached Broadway Centrum around 4 pm and look at all we’re getting… hours of standing outside while rain poured in (and onto my beautiful uncut hair) inevitably. So many students–mostlyNursing students, I estimated, who want to join “On The Spot Jackpot” of Eat Bulaga. I tried to ask some of them if anyone is taking Journalism. They all returned the question to me. No wonder they got intimidated. (Hey, no other journalism student would be cuter than I! Lol).

And I had fun with this toddler with violent tendencies. He was hitting his mom for not feeding him with junk food. Poor mother…

Then I hid my cam from potential (insecure) guys. Lol. Mom was afraid that I might not make it to the screening if they (i.e, some obscured hidden agent hired for EB spy team, lolzies) found out that some rich (excuse me, I’m not) scumbag spams the needy and had the nerve to boast his (brrrand nyuu) digicam. Hey! The girl behind me owns a Nokia N93!

Screening for On the Spot was horrendous. I reached the studio around 8:30 and there were hundreds of students who were not yet called. That’s why Eat Bulaga’s staff and crew devised a format to divide all students by batch of signing the registration (not the enrollment) forms at the entrance. To make our lives easier, they just required us to introduce ourselves as creative as possible. I nearly ended up not being called, for some proctor announced my complete name from nowhere. I really did a unique one… writing a diary in front of the crowd about a man named Brando who falls in love at first sight to a guy named Neil… hey, I’m Neil! Hahaha! Corny.

We reached home past 10 (Jumong time). We were starving. We were welcomed with a messy house with no cooked rice but some Tocino-flavored meat loaf slices fried on QB stove…

Hey, wait a minute… we have a QB stove? That uber cost and energy efficient charcoal fueled stove top that apparently runs out of stock at Venta5?

Yes, because we ran out of gasul already, Mom replied. Wow. Goodbye, three thousand pesos. Good luck to my enrollment!

Awe… we only had tuyô for our lunch.

Gawd. What a great day to wrap everything up by watching an illegally downloaded The King and the Clown movie from a friend blogger somewhere in Singapore.