The Deadbeat Club: January 2008

Thursday, January 31, 2008

Thank U

In just a span of 12 days and 10 posts, The Deadbeat Club has close to 200 hits.

For a non-porn site, those are pretty good numbers.

So let me just give a shout out to everyone who made it all happen.

To everyone who visited Raft3r's blog, thank you.

To those you who were brave enough to air their views in my comment box, I applaud you. To the readers who laughed, got pissed, gone clueless with my nonsense, I salute you. You guys ROCK!!!

February is the so-called love month and you know I have a lot to say about that. So hang on tight because the party is just about to start.

Raft3r is very happy.

Just last month, I attended two weddings on the same day.

Yeah, you read it right. That’s two weddings in one day.

To make it even more unbelievable, both weddings were scheduled at 3 o’clock in the afternoon.

I was part of the wedding entourage on one wedding. So it was easy to decide which church ceremony I would be attending.

The plan was to attend the church service for one wedding and go to the reception of the other.

In a few hours from now, I am attending another friend’s wedding. I feel like I'm the male version of Katherine Heigl’s character in 27 Dresses.

There’s something about weddings that rubs me the wrong way.

In fact, weddings scare the hell out of me. It must be the idea of spending forever with just one person.

I mean I couldn’t even sustain a relationship for more than a year. How could I possibly survive an eternity with someone?

The phrase “until death do us part” entails serious commitment and a whole lot of comprises. I don’t think I am quite ready for that kind of shit.

I like the fact that I am not responsible for another human being.

I can come home late and have no one ask me where I’ve been. I can go wherever I want and need not ask the permission of another. I can buy all the gadgets in the world and not have anyone tell me not to.

I’m not bashing the whole concept of marriage. I still think it’s cool.

People fall in love and they, eventually, decide to get hitched. Plain and simple. But that doesn’t mean it works for all of us.

I'm A Flirt

Raft3r flirted with the cute restaurant manager and got a full meal plus dessert for free! Yes, it really happened.

I know I can always charm my way out of sticky situations but I never thought I could get away with a free meal!

A couple of nights ago, my friends and I decided to hang out in one of the trendy restaurants along High Street.

She was standing by the door way, with a huge smile on her face. She seated us to our table and politely made her exit.

I gave her a quick smile. I thought I saw her grin.

Minutes past and no waiter came to our table. As fate would have it, the cute restaurant manager decided to take our orders instead.

Food came and she went to our table and asked how we were doing. I told her we were great but it would be nicer if she could send over some freebies. She laughed. That’s always a good sign.

In a snap of a finger, dessert was served. “On the house, sir,” the waiter said.

Friends were impressed. I saw her from afar and made a thank you gesture. She approached our table once more and decided to chit-chat.

Not only was she an eye candy, the chick was also smart and bubbly. Before the night ended, we were like old friends.

Here’s the sweet part, I had a full rack of baby back ribs to go and gift certificates amounting to a thousand bucks.

Indeed, the best things in life are free.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Don't Talk 2 Strangers

A college professor taught us to only write about things we know of.

So when a close friend suggested I write something relevant, I went berserked.

Since everything is relative, what is relevant anyway?

Actually, what my friend meant was for me to write less about myself and dwell more on topics that may actually have a profound effect on mankind.

I never thought that blogging could help change the world. But here goes.

As kids, we were warned against strangers.

How many times have we been told by our folks not to talk to people we don’t know?

My mom, being suspicious of my ability to comprehend and follow rules, would often hire someone to pose as a stranger who would offer me candy. Many times, I accepted.

Maybe, even as a child, stupidity has always been my greatest trait.

But growing up, I realized stupidity wasn’t entirely to be blamed for my juvenile misgivings. I was, and still am, drawn to strangers.

Yes, blame the candies.

Anyone who offers sweets to kids must be kind. That was how I viewed it, back then.

If strangers could give me candies, what more can I get from them? Twisted, I know.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

The Rafters

I am one huge tennis fan and Rafter is my favorite tennis player. I guess that explains my moniker.

Patrick Rafter, from Australia, has won two back-to-back US Open titles and has made two consecutive appearances at the Wimbledon Finals.

I’m no team player. So basketball doesn’t suit me.

I have the tendency to just think about myself and forget about my teammates. That is why I love tennis.

You are accountable to no one but yourself. If you lose, you cannot blame anyone but yourself.

I started playing only in 2000. My friends and I formed a small tennis league and we would compete against each other. That went on for three years.

Outside of the court, we were all the best of friends. But on every match, we made sure we had our game face on.

Just like in the professional league, we had points for every match won. At the end of each year, a trophy was presented to the one with most points.

Tennis is a very competitive game.

It’s about how hard you hit the ball, how fast you serve, how good you volley, and how well you return - a good analogy to life, if I say so myself.

I was ranked number one during our first year and twice the runner up in the next two. Rafter would have been proud.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Did You Do It?

This is obviously the favorite question of every nagger in town.

An ex once called me that and I just don’t get it. I may be a lot of things. But I’m not a nagger.

Or am I?

Let me take you back to that instance when I was tagged as being one.

It was one of those spats between lovers.

I was being my usual self, Raft3r the Indifferent. She was, after all, on a war path and I was not in the mood to be caught in the cross fire. She kept rambling about what was wrong in our relationship - that I was this and I was that. Yada, yada, yada.

She may have gone on for hours and I had this blank stare on my face. I hate being lectured.

Maybe she realized her point wasn’t coming across, so she decided to shut up.

It was, then, I asked her: “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Ex: “Will you please stop nagging me!”

Years from now, that story will continue to haunt me.

I still can’t figure out how being indifferent can be construed as nagging. I kept my silence the entire time and in the only instance I opened my mouth, I was immediately accused of nagging. Oh, come on!

Maybe I am in denial. Maybe I am a nagger. Maybe I do have that insane need to constantly dwell on the same things over and over again. Maybe I am driven by this insatiable thirst to continuously bring up past grievances and trivial complaints for the sole purpose of annoying my mate.

So, did you do it? Did you? Did you?

Friday, January 25, 2008

Wouldn't It Be Nice To Be Proud

Raft3r was born and raised in Malibay, Pasay’s answer to Manila’s Tondo.

Despite the notorious reputation of my birthplace, I don’t ever recall being mugged, shot, robbed, stoned, stabbed, drugged or gang raped.

Malibay or, as I fondly refer to as, Mali Bay is one huge tourist destination waiting to be discovered.

Moreover SM Mall of Asia. Mali Bay offers more variety and interesting side trips.

Consider the following:

Matute Fashion School - The butt of ALL jokes. But it really does exist. It is located along EDSA corner Mali Bay. It's hard to miss. Most people consider it a landmark. The school is owned by my aunt's godparents.

Diego, Ang Pambansang Bading (Help! I need assistance in coming up with its English transalation. Please be politically correct.) - Even rich folks who frequent High Street and Rockwell know this funny Kapuso. Yes, Diego is a certified Mali Bay resident. He is reported to frequent nearby carinderias (eateries) and sari sari stores (kiosks) wiht hunky local boys. I heard he's pretty generous. Can't wait to run into him one of these days.

Vhong Navarro's Panciteria (noodle house) - Even Lastikman is not stupid to ignore the increasing spending power of Mali Bay residents. See people line up in the street not for the pancit but to catch a glimpse of the famous comedian. Don't ask me why. Raft3r is NOT interested.

Apartments For Rent - Want a Serendra-like unit but for a cheaper cost? Enter Mali Bay's midrise condo units. Monthly rentals range from only five to ten grand. AJ 1 (Ooops... This is not an advertisement.) offers the best price and view of the magnificent Mali Bay scenery.

Night Life - Drinking sessions in Mali Bay commence as early as ten o'clock in the morning. Who needs to go to a bar when sari-sari stores are conveniently located in every block? Ihaw-ihaw (barbeque) stands abound. They make for excellent pulutan (beer munchies). Dress code is not observed here. In fact, most drinkers go topless - male drinkers, i.e.

Online Poker - Mali Bay offers a better game. Enter jueteng. This local betting game, although illegal, is common in most dark alleys of the posh community. Thank the city government for its non-stop support of this gambling activity.

People - Diversity may be an understatement. Mali Bay residents are composed of urban yuppies, professionals, Japayukis (Filipina entertainers from Japan), students, drug lords, and the common Juan dela Cruz (that's Uncle Sam, for you).

So there we have it, seven glorious reasons to celebrate my hometown.

Mabuhay! (Welcome!)

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Rules Of Engagement

Being the obsessive-compulsive freak that I am, I just have to make certain ground rules in blogging.

Hence, this list:

1. Each post will be named after a song or a movie. As an added bonus, anyone who could name the artist/actor of said song/movie wins a coffee date with Raft3r.

2. To protect the innocent, all persons - including exes, current flings, significant others, friends, family members, and foes - shall NOT be named and may only be referred to as him, her or it (as the case may be.) Death is the only exception.

3. Topics would range from personal matters to the most bizarre happenings in my life. Yes, I was once abducted by aliens.

4. Comic relief is a required element in writing.

5. I am allowed to stretch the truth.

Post script: The Deadbeat Club is my favorite B-52’s song. It was also the name of my column in a college journal. Old habits really die hard.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

#1 Crush

My first crush was Cyndi Lauper. I was in grade school.

You see, I’m an 80’s baby. I remember buying Pepsi just so I can have a plastic water mug with a wild and crazy Cyndi imprinted on it.

Back in the day, I had really crushes on girls who were not seen as conventionally beautiful.

Another case in point, Tori Spelling. This was during my high school days. I remember mailing her this gigantic birthday card. In return, she sent me a mail merged fan mail. I was stoked.

I also had a crush on my first cousin. Wait a minute. Hold your judgment. Let me just say that she’s hot.

Hot or not...yeah, I know. It’s weird. But I was just a kid back then.

My infatuation with her ended when my mom blurted out that my cousin had bad odor. That was the deal breaker for me.

As I Am

Against my better judgment, I decided to blog.

Yesterday I created my blogger account.

I am NO writer. Despite serving as an editor-in-chief in a college journal, my writing experience is pretty darn limited. I am NO writer.

Consider this is your last warning.

If you are still reading this, man, you’re brave.

I figured since everyone I know blogs, I might as well try it out. Writing seems to be therapeutic. It gets my creative juices flowing, if I have any.

Also, writing is a good medium to air out sentiments and such. I am in no way an emotional guy. My exes would make sure you know that.

I always keep my emotions bottled up. Hopefully with blogging, I get to change that…little by little.

I read somewhere that a very famous 80’s pop sensation once had a journal online. She would update it on a regular basis. She wrote about anything and everything. Until she finally reckoned that she was compromising the truth just to make her journal entries more interesting to the readers. Hence, she decided to stop.

That made me ponder as to how much I am willing to share with what I write.

Stay tuned.

I am Raft3r. Hear me roar.

The Deadbeat Club