A Final Glimpse On The Year That Was 2011

It’s hard to believe that 2011 is almost over.

I started the year hitting the sack ‘cos of some stupid illness. What a way to start the year, I thought to myself. Little did I know, then, that this will be the most awesome year of my life after 2005 and here are some of the reasons why.

2011 Memorabilia ♥ 나는 그들을보고 싶을거야

○ The 12-Hour Albay Escapade officially kicked off my 2011. I had a great time doing this especially I was the one who organized the whole trip. (I was a sheltered brat growing up so most of my travels heavily relied on my parents) I didn't have much time to research but thank God, it went as smooth as I was expecting it to be. Of course, ayaw ko din naming mapahiya kina Seul-ki. This was also my first (and last as of press time) pathetic attempt to travel blog. Damn it’s hard. You have to recall even the smallest of details.

Ako na ang oily ang face. Loser! Hahaha.

○ After four years of sleepless nights, hundreds of cups of coffee and instant noodles, I received my splendid, shimmering diploma from a reputable university. Trust me, when I got my diploma, my hands were shaking. It was a happy moment. My mom was there, cheering me on. My family was there. But at the same time, it was sad and a little bit thrilling. I realized that the people I see everyday will most likely I will never see again. I’m not really concerned about friends, I know we can find ways to keep in touch. It’s the people that I don’t know yet.

In fairness, ganda sana ng beach. The thing was, hang sakit sa paa. Hang bato.

○ One of the highlights of my summer was our one-week escapade in Cebu. I can’t describe how exciting this whole experience was. It was “a journey of firsts” for me – first time to ride an airplane, first time to set foot in the Visayas and first time to stay in a 5-star hotel. Winner! And on top of everything, I’ve got to spend a week in the company of my loved ones (most of whom are US-based). It’s priceless!

The best part of my year: I fell in love. I’m a guy who does believe in mushy things like destiny and soul mates and true love, you know all those childhood nonsenses. But getting a girlfriend isn’t a priority for me. Really. It just changed when I met my greatest love one lazy summer afternoon. It was love-at-first-sight. Now I do understand why guys turn into love-sick puppies when they are inlove.

I don’t remember getting too psyched about taking the Nursing Licensure Exam (NLE). I attended review sessions, yes, but my head was all over the place. I wanted to be on top but I don’t have the concentration and the focus. It was only two weeks before the exam when it sunk in to me. The thought. The anxiety. I started to get worried. All those I thought were preparations suddenly seemed insufficient. I only had a few hours of sleep everyday. It was a race against time.

○ Then the examination day came. I almost didn’t make it on time, I got lost. Oh, I’m so stupid without a map. Thank God, I was at the testing room 20 minutes before 7am. Before I could realize what happened next, Test I was handed to me. Not much of a choice, fight or flight. And then, the 2 hours were up. I went out of the room devastated. There and then, I knew that I won’t make it. Ampucha, I thought. Test I pa lang ang hirap na, paano pa ang Test 5? The good news, I survived the two-day ordeal.

Also, I would like to take this chance to thank the security guard of DWCL (College Department) for helping me with the directions. Saludo ako sa’yo Ser!

○ A month after I took the NLE, I went to Manila to find a temp job. And lucky me, I did but not for too long. After 8 days, no typo error there it’s really e-i-g-h-t, I was fired ‘cos of my awesomeness. Well, just my luck. I told myself that everything happens for a reason but I'll admit that it significantly decreased the size of my ego. Lesson learned? Be prepared for anything ‘cos as secure things may seem, they truly never are.

○ The next day, PRC dropped the bomb. My heart was pounding off my chest so imagine how I went hysterics as soon as I saw 22830 Hoobert the Awesome. I was like, “is this forreal?”. After long hours of dueling with my mind and myself; after months of waiting, I finally stood triumphant. I passed the test. Once again, God proved that there’s always a rainbow after the rain. I can’t be more thankful to Him.

Note: My score wasn’t the one I’ve been dreaming of but it’s definitely the one I deserved.

I still did a couple of job interviews after I learned of the results - both for BPO companies. I don’t know what gotten into me and I tried applying as a CSR ‘cos I know in myself that I’m not good in talking over the phone. As expected, both were unsuccessful. Maybe I made the impression that I am too arrogant, over-confident, GGSS or worst, too bored.

Sharing an interview with a company in Ortigas -

Interviewer: Do you think you have the chance of getting hired?

Me: Yes. Well, there’s a thing called luck.

Interviewer: *Giving me that “are you freaking serious” look* Just luck?

Me: And my charm. *laughs*

Yes, that’s the most stupid interview I had. You can’t blame me; I was so damn bored and uninterested. I know you know what happened next. I’ll ask you, if you were the interviewer, would you hire me? I don’t think so.

I am not used doing household chores for other persons. As his unico hijo, my mom spoiled me in this department. But now that I’m a full-grown adult, it needs to change. I stayed in my Tita O’s apartment when I was in Manila and she taught me how to do some household chores. And I’m just so fuckin’ proud of myself that I phoned my mom about it. All these years, I’ve been bragging to everyone that I can cook longganisa. Sorry but I was wrong. I just learned four months ago through my Tita that you should (kind of) boil it first before frying it. Sheeze.

September, October & November. I’ve been a little down the past 4 months because I felt like I had no specific direction in life. As much as people perceived that I knew what I want to do in life, the only clear thing is, I’m clueless. I became pretty depressed. I don’t have a job. My mom bugged me every day to find one. Chris was busy with her studies that we don’t have the chance to hang out. And I was being paranoid that she’s falling out of love. I don’t want to use the term suicidal but something close to that described what I was feeling. That was the hard times. I’m just thankful to God that I escaped the “Great Depression” unscathed and with my sanity intact.

December was the bitchiest month for me, I think some of you know. I got sick for 5 days. I had difficulties of breathing. I was throwing up. My whole body was aching. I got allergies. At some point, I thought I’m going to die. Seriously. Then, my girlfriend broke up with me. So there I was, a dying man who just lost his greatest love. Truth be told, I ruminated to commit suicide but then I love my life too much. Indeed, December was really the cherry on top of a terrible (but exciting in a way) last quarter.

This year, I wasn’t tempted with stuffs like smoking, alcohol or alas, drugs, but the things I was tempted with were things like procrastination, settling for less and looking for the easiest way out. Of course, I am not proud of that but I am not ashamed of it as well. ‘Cos with every experience, good or bad, I think I’ve grown wiser and stronger; although there’s still so much to learn.

The good news and probably the lesson of the story is that, while you considered yourself cursed, there are those who consider you a blessing. That while you may think of your life as pointless and wasted, there are still many things that you have done and many that you shall do more that are worthwhile.

All in all, loads of good stuffs to make up for the bad stuffs - a ridiculously awesome mom at my side, the love and support of my not-as-awesome-as-me-but-awesome-nonetheless sisters, an ex-girlfriend every guy could hope for, my ever-expanding list of friends and my internationally-acclaimed (in my dreams) blog. With all these blessings in mind, the one I’m most thankful for is that I became closer to God.

Now, I’m ready to put an awesome year behind me with high hopes for a more awesome year, with none of those terrible stuffs that dragged some parts of the year.

Here’s a toast: for the next 12 months!


Of mushy teacher reports, high school life and pre-college dilemma

I saw a yellowing old envelope (it had rat poops on it, gross!) on the cabinet the other day. As the curious little boy that I am, I opened it. And guess what I found. No, not rat poops again but a copy of my 6th grade report card. How awesome is that? I have no idea how this 10-year old stuff got into our living room although Mom is a certified rat pack who loves to keep trash so I shouldn't be surprised (and this is the part where I crumble and fall to pieces for calling Mom a “rat pack” ).

Moving on, yes, I saw my grades. What the, I thought. I might not really been a bad student after all.

But what really caught my eyes was the teacher’s narrative report. (Just so you know: My 6th grade teacher was the typical notorious old-maiden. I didn’t like her that much and I thought that the feeling was mutual. I remember a time when she caught me vandalizing a book and gave me a “pingot”. Sheeze. It’s really embarrassing.) Mushy statements were hit and I really thought that most of what I read was flattering. It’s heartfelt and corny. I just don’t agree with the third one. Though I’m trustworthy (or so I thought), I don’t think I’m honest in the truest sense of the word. And I never believed honesty to be the best policy. Never. Because the truth is, the truth is hard. It is stubborn. It is awkward. It is cruel. And most of the time, the truth hurts. Honesty or kindness? 90% of the time, I’d choose kindness.

I wish I kept all my report card, just to remind me how silly but brilliant I was as a kid.

I went into a public high school. It was a personal decision actually. My dad wanted me to go into this certain over-rated private school (where my two younger sisters are alums) in our province but because I’m a good son and I was being practical so I disagree with him much to my mom’s delight. And it’s of one the best decisions I’ve made as a teenager. These are the best times and here are some of the reasons why.


The thing to be frightened about studying in a public school is not getting good grades – it’s the scaring number of textbooks. Can you believe that I had, as far as I can remember, 21 books when I was a freshie? And you are obliged as a GOOD student to carry that around every day, well, most especially if your professor is a textbook-only child. In my case, I have to walk about 500 or so meters from the school gate to the freshman building and climb at least 20 flights of stairs to get into our room. Talk about luck.

I got my first share of pain when MJ (no, not M.J. Blige and definitely not Michael Jackson) shattered my heart into pieces. I learned through a friend that my crush of three years had a thing for a close buddy and the feeling was mutual. I was torn between letting go of MJ and saving the friendship with my buddy. But knowing me (here I comes again with my self-patronizing) as a good boy, you may have an idea what my decision was. Lesson learned? When a heart breaks, no it don’t break even.

The funniest experience ever was when we (me, my best friend and a bunch of fellas) caught one of the P.E. professors making out with a stud from the college department. And the thing was – gasp! – they were both guys. That’s supposed to be a secret. Well, not anymore.


I’m always with the brainiacs. Of course, birds of the same feathers flock together. Lol. But don’t be fooled by the rocks that I’ve got ‘cos I’m still, I’m still Hoobert from the block ‘cos even though I did pretty good in my acads, I didn’t penetrated the honor’s list. I’m always either on the 11th or 12th spot. The honors studs were just too tough to beat.

During my second year, I learned and mastered the art of making “sipsip” with your professors. We had this professor who was a celebrity, labeled notorious by the higher years. In the first few meetings, I saw how angry she can get. She’s scary! But the funny thing was when she was in the mood to talk, she talked about her chickens, how she dealt with engkantos as a kid or her marriage life. To make her notice that I was interested with her stories (even if the truth was I rather cuddle a pillow, stay in bed and pick on my nose), I asked questions. And you know what, I got a pretty good grade in her subject.


I remembered one of our first Values Education assignments was to interview, no offense meant, prostitutes. It’s really ironic ‘cos we did night-club hopping during the day. It was my first time (and the last as of press time) to enter a night-club and it was really weird. I didn’t tell my mom about it ‘cos she’ll certainly freak out. Lesson learned? Not all prostitutes are beautiful.

It was the first time I laid my eyes on my “first girlfriend-to-be” Eunice. I didn’t find her attractive at first. She annoyed me – or was I just intimidated? Coming from a string of sectionals, regional and national competitions, everybody knew her. She’s like Ms. Popular and I was Mr. Nobody. It took me some months before I approached her; she went to a different high school by the way. Believe it or not, torpe ako noon.

I ran for a position in the Student Government. I knew that I had it in the bag. Talk about too much confidence. Yeah, I was pretty popular with the lower years and I don't have an idea why. Much to my surprise, I lost with 9 votes difference to my closest contender. Know who my closest contender was? My bestfriend. That moment, I want to stab her to death. Hahaha, just kidding.


I can’t help but laugh every time I remember the day when I stood up against our hugely unpopular still-single-at her-50s (no wonder) school head. She freaking insulted my drawing – she told the class that the atom I drew looked like a sperm entering an ovum. What the, I thought. I remember being flabbergasted, not because I believed her but the fact that a school head would say that. I know, I know, it’s a ground for expulsion but I felt much better after. The funny thing was she knew me by my name since then.

I hated the fact that I was the teacher’s favorite. It seems cool to you but not to me. Our professor back then was called Mr. Bean by my good-for-nothing mates (he does look Mr. Bean, oops) so I was called Little Bean. Dammit!

But my most unforgettable (and potentially-deadly) high school experience happened outside the campus. It was a Saturday and two of my girl friends were celebrating their birthdays. We went to a hot spring (about 20 of us, most were girls); well, to make the story short – we almost got massacred by a dozen of “war-freaks”. Some of the boys got punched and a mate fainted. It was pretty scary; it’s like we were on a slasher movie or something.

I don’t want to lift a chair but I became part of almost every club our high school has to offer: Science Club (Sec), Values Education Club (VP), HEKASI Club (Pres, note: HEKASI is my fave subject ever), E.P.P. Club, English Club blah blah blah. I was also the class business manager for three consecutive years with the exception of senior high when I moved up the ranks and became the Class VP. It’s a proof that my mates loved me that much. I was also the Spelling Bee champ during junior high and the runner up during freshman (I lost to a senior). And to top it off, I got one of the highest NCAE scores in our campus. Yeah I was a nerd. I still think I am at times.

One of the dilemmas I had during my senior year was where to study college and what course to take. As much as people perceived that I knew what I wanted to do in life, my future wasn’t clear cut. I was, then, pretty clueless. But still, I am lucky ‘cos I am not one of those kids who have dictators for parents. My parents, especially my mom, encouraged me to follow my passion. I remembered her saying, “kung saan ka masaya, dun ako”.

I filed only two college applications – both for public universities, University of the Philippines and Bicol University. I withdrew my application in my dream school, Ateneo de Manila University. As much as I hate to do it, coming from a lower middle-class family and the fact that my sisters were going into a private school my dream of being an “Atenista” isn’t possible.

Coming from a public high school, UPCAT is a must take for me. But I don’t remember being too psyched about it, well, except for the fact that I bought an UPCAT reviewer which I haven’t read that much. Who can blame me? I was too focused getting into that blue university and that whole UPCAT thing was just for ego-boosting purposes and the bragging right that I passed the “freaking mother-of-all-collegiate-entrance-tests.”

In high school, I considered Columbus and Magellan as gods so it’s a no-brainer that I wrote BS Geography as my first choice in the courses offered in UP-Diliman. AB History, second choice. I told you I was a nerd kiddo and boring. Then I probably wrote either BS Nursing or Communications whatever in my second college of choice – UP Manila.

I also filed a college application in Bicol University as Plan C if my applications in UP or AdMU didn’t work in my favor. And thank God I did. BS Nursing was my first choice then BS Education. Did you know that I dreamed of being a teacher in some point during my childhood years?

I didn’t go to UP (I missed the cut-off mark by just some points) or Ateneo de Manila but the thing I learned was every single soul has his own path in life. Don’t sweat yourself too much thinking of a clear career path when you are in high school – that’s partly what college is all about, discovering who you are and what you want to do in life.


KIMPOY, ANG HARI NG TWITTER: Why Paolo Feliciano Is So Friggin’ Popular?

Kimpoy Feliciano.

Does the name ring a bell, anyone?

For people who have been to Mars for the past year, Kimpoy is the guy who threatens to out-awesome me an internet sensation and could very well be the new poster boy for Twitter (oh forget Rustin Heiber and his/her pre-pubescent voice). Google Kimpoy Feliciano and you’ll get around 195,000 results, most of which are from teenage girls who are down with OKD (Obsessive Kimpoy Disease), a chronic and highly contagious disease characterized by excessive drooling whenever Kimpoy (or in worst cases: just a picture of him) is on sight, dreaming of nothing but him on a constant and passionate basis and lastly, stalking him on every social networking sites possible. Dang! I’m almost guilty with the third one. Thank God my Tumblr account is as dead as the captain of Titanic. Sheeze!

Kimpoy has 263,957 Twitter followers + 143,707 Facebook subscribers (Tumblr followers, I don't know) = you-do-the-fuckin’-Math. (Sorry, I really suck in Math. It’s like Cantonese to me, I don’t understand a thing. Oh boy, you didn't have to know that.) 407,664, thanks calculator! See? No typo error there, it’s really 407,664. That’s more people than the entire population of Andorra, Kiribati and Virgin Islands combined. Yeah, he’s that influential. He’s like the new Superman. If the Thais have Mario, we have Kimpoy. It’s a no brainer.

Moving on, I first heard about him on Shoooooowtimeeeeee! *imitating Anne’s voice* then searched him up. I saw few videos of him which mostly consisted of, well, the stuffs that he can do (and unfortunately, these are the same stuffs that I can’t do but I’m not being bitter or anything) – singing, dancing and cute display of his pick-up lines. There are, however, pick-up lines that are more miss than hit – in Vice Ganda’s term, waley. But it doesn’t make him less awesome. Funny, weirdly charming and has a good sense of humor, no wonder Kimpoy captured every girl’s (and some guy’s too!) fancy.

Kimpoy is quite the ladies’ man. He’s in every girl’s dream. No, not really, not in my girlfriend’s. But I’m not really sure of that (lol!). And every guy’s subject of envy. Except me, duh! Hahaha. I’m not being tsismoso here but he is being linked to the girl who threatens to out-awesome my girlfriend Ann Li. I’ll admit that I’m one of those who waits with anticipation if his love story with Ann does progress from “getting-to-know-each-other-through-skype” into “you-and-me-together-forever”. When that happens, I’m pretty sure that hundreds of girls will try to commit suicide. Not that I want it to happen ‘cos first and foremost, I don’t know why I had to say any of that.

Moving on, yet again, when he announced that he’ll be home for Christmas, his girl fans went hysterics and the news spread like AH1N1 virus. I even heard that a “Hero’s Welcome” is being set. No, no, I’m just kidding. But, one can only think, with a fan base as huge as that, it’s not impossible.

To: The Guy Who Threatens to Out-Awesome Me Kimpoy

You are a living proof that while a star isn't born every minute, a star could be tweeted at a faster rate. Happy 19th birthday!

From: The Guy Who Is More Awesome Than You Hoobert the Awesome

Bow down mortals, the throne has been filled. It’s good to be the king.

Hit him on Twitter (@kimpoyfeliciano) but hit me more (@hoobtheawesome).

(Got the photo from his fan page. Thanks!)


Fine. I'm Wrong, You're Right. Now What?

It’s been almost seven months since Chris became my girlfriend. So far, so good. And I’m crossing my awesome fingers that it stays that way. But not known to many, our first two weeks has been pretty rough. Yes, I’m seriously serious. We argued a lot. My girlfriend and I agreed on absolutely nothing. At all. I’m thinking it’s either we didn’t know each other too well and we’re just warming up OR we are just both, let’s just say, “war-freak brats”.

Luckily for us, we are both awesome creatures. No major fight yet. We usually argue over small issues: the time it took her to reply to my texts, which drives me nuts. (This may sound immature but I’m not the most patient boyfriend of all. I can get impatient and stubborn and moody sometimes and you’re not gonna like me. Shikes!) Tiffs over where to eat donuts or what movie to watch are settled with rock-paper-scissors shoot out, kidding. It's her call. Full-blown arguments while very, very rare typically erupt about her “I’m nearly there” bullshit (and you know why). But these are always resolved very quickly.

Believe it or not, while disputes/arguments/debates with your “sweetie pie” is no fun, it should be noted that stuffs like these keeps a relationship on its toes. Don’t worry, it is not unusual. It just shows that you’ve invested enough to want to hash something instead of just writing each other off. And it doesn’t have to cause hustle and bustle in the relationship. When you think of a fight as a chance to talk and patch things up, not World War III, it takes fear out of it. Fear widens the knowing-doing gap. Don't use it pretty fuckin' please.

Moving on. You people are lucky, very lucky. I’ll be your love guru today, teaching you how to love and how to be love. Echos! Hahaha. Naaa, I’ll be sharing advices on how to handle arguments with your “sweetie pie” and not turn it into an all-nuclear war. No, no, don’t mistake me for Papa Jack. (I and my mates got addicted listening to Papa Jack last summer, as if that information would be necessary for the salvation of the world). Most of the stuffs here are for girls otherwise indicated. These I learned after years of being around tons and tons of girl friends (their boyfriends are of great help, too).

Don’t detail your tampo through text (unless you have an SMS love affair, you know). Girls, no offense meant, frequently do this and it's pretty annoying. This is a big no, no. I know it needs a lot of guts to meet head-on with your “sweetie pie” but you must remember that he might be clueless on why you are pissed. And to guys, if you have done something wrong to your girl, have the balls to say sorry in person.


Never bring up old issues – ever. What’s done is done. Restrict your discussion to one, recent incident and don't go back to 2009. That way, you don’t misunderstand and wind up bickering again about the same thing all over again. Snowballing your complaints confuses both of you about what the real issue is.


When you had a fight with your “sweetie pie”, do you vent online? Wrong. Not only you’re making a fool out of yourself but you’re also making yourself a prey of your good-for-nothing/tsismosa friends. So my teensy-bitsy advice: count to ten before changing your FB status. Couple/s who post TMZ-worthy feud on Facebook pisses a lot of people, me included. Seriously.


Girlfriend: You know what? I’m just so freaking tired of you. This will not work. We’re over.

Boyfriend: Thank God, I am only waiting for you to say that. I deserve someone better.

Girlfriend: Yeah right, idiot!

Boyfriend: And you’re such a spoiled, fugly brat.

Girlfriend: Bayot!

Boyfriend: Oh c’mon that’s a low blow.

Girlfriend: Bayot. Bayot. Bayot. BAAA-

Boyfriend: Ok fine. I’m sorry. I take back everything I said. Just stop calling me that. Please babe?

Sometimes name-calling works. But most of the time (about 99%), it doesn’t. Sarcasm and name-calling are cheap shots. Just calm your butt down, if you cannot contain it any longer, two words: walk out. Otherwise, you may get a knee-jerk reaction that leaves you more upset. If you criticize rather than complain then your relationship is headed towards disaster with capital D.


Give each other a breathing space. Not all arguments can be fixed in one sitting. You don’t need to build Rome in a day. You can just talk it out the next morning or after the two of you have calmed down. Settle a disagreement when you’re both in the right frame of mind. Otherwise, nothing will get solved. And worse, you might end up killing each other, joke! – you might end up as ex-lovers. You don’t want that, don’t you?


Know when to stop. Once you heard the outcome you were after, maybe an apology or an explanation perhaps, stop. Any further squabbling is pleasure-seeking (out of lack of a better term). We all know that so don’t argue. If he/she said he/she was sorry, take it at face value. Don’t make him/her beg for your forgiveness (well, it depends in the severity of the case).

There is no such thing as toil-free relationship. Shits happen to test the limits of your love for each other. So if you two think that what you have is something special and worth fighting for, work it out. If one of you stops to work then you will be on a big trouble, I’m telling you: when the work stops, the split starts. Men and women have equal footing in a relationship. The “pa-martir” and “Andres de Saya” clones are so 20th century.

I'm Papa Awesome. Now, signing off.



11:39 pm.

Breath in, breath out.

Wait lang may ihahabol pa ako.

I heard na may pa-contest daw para sa mga bloggers, 2011 Philippine Blog Awards yata yun.

Totoo ba?

Malamang sa Pilipinas ito 'no?

Siguro paparangalan nito ang mga pinakamamagaling na blogger 'no?

(Ilang minutes pa ba? May nagtsa-chat pa. Wait.)

11:43 pm.

Ang totoo alam na alam ko ang PBA.

Bakit di ko malalaman eh blogger ako?

Prince of Philippine Blogging pa nga ang tawag sakin ng nanay ko.

Well, in denial lang ako. Kasi di ako nominated.

At hindi ako nagbibiro.

Bitter na kung bitter. Yummy naman ako.

11:45 pm.

Oh shit! Ano pa ba?

Wait. Oh my gawd. Wait.

(Hahaha. At talagang nanginginig pa ako. Talking of pressure. )

Basta ang alam ko LIBRE LANG ANG MANGARAP.

Kaya kay Otep ako!

May paninindigan. Walang kinikilingan. Hindi bibigay.


Ay este... for PBA Blogger Choice.

Aking ibinoboto si Otep ng Libre Lang Mangarap para sa 2011 Philippine Blog Award Bloggers Choice.

Siya ang napili ko.

Yun lang po.

(Anong oras na ba?)

11:50 pm.

Wait. Eto na, basta ayun.


11:55 na!



WARNING: The following words are not suitable for a very young age. Parental guidance is HIGHLY recommended.

I was watching a local sitcom on television about two weeks ago (or is it three?) that tackled about male circumcision. I think it was Pepito Manaloto and it was so damn good! It brought back a lot of memories. Circumcision? Flashback begins…


It was a lazy April afternoon. I was in my room when my mom told me that I’ll be having my circumcision the next day. Surprised, shocked, dumbfounded, I went and my heart made a plunge in cold waters when she told me the bad news. What the, I thought. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate the idea of being circumcised. Pero gano’n na lang yun, one day notice. Agad agad? But as the good boy that I was, I kept myself from rebutting.

THE NEXT DAY I woke up early, about 8 in the morning. Of course, I need to do some preparations too. (TIP: At least 30 minutes before the “operation”, take a shower and scrub your privates in respect to the nurse. You don’t want to smell onion, don’t you?) After lunch, a woman in her early 50s I guess, walked in our house. It must be her, I thought. She’s very different from what I had in my dirty, little mind but who cares?

As soon as the nurse led me to the sofa, my two week-ordeals already began. I was so nervous. Everything felt like my first trip to the dentist, only this time, I was naked, oh yes, naked from the waist down. Mind you, I had no time to prepare myself mentally. And much to my dismay, the “operation” was done in the sofa… in the living room. Imagine that? Add to that the fact that a total stranger was touching my privates. Whatever remaining naughty ideas I had in mind instantly vanished as soon as I saw the instruments to be use – blade, scissor, needles and MORE blades. I almost fainted, well, that’s a bit of exaggeration. But I was literally shaaaaakinnnng. I am not sure but I think I called out for my mom. And that was so gay. I even asked myself for practically innumerable times just to keep my sanity intact: Is this for real or am I being punk’d? My shrieks were so loud I could hear my sisters snickering. Damn!

After the “operation”, I was drained and my energy level was on its lowest. And when I looked down, I saw at least 300 stitches. No, I’m just kidding. But honestly, I didn’t even bother myself to look at it. I don’t want to see how bad it became. The next two weeks was probably the worst two weeks of my entire life. I need to endure the mind-boggling pain from the stitches. I need to wash it at least three times a day to keep it bacteria-free. Then, dress it after with a piece of cloth with a hole in the middle. (For the girls: Just imagine it, okay.) And I need to wear loose shorts all day long. It was hell with a capital H. Thank God I surpassed it unscathed and with sanity intact.

So why do teenage boys (and not-so teenage boys) subject themselves to this kind of physical and mental torture? First, vanity. For some guys, being “circumcised” makes them look more macho. And I think girls prefer “circumcised” men. I conducted a survey just now and asked three of my girl friends in Facebook (note: my girlfriend not included) about these “likability factor” and all the three of them went with “circumcised” men. Well, not a surprise. No pun intended.

Then second, hygiene. Enough said.

Well anyway, I still ruminate that “uncircumcised” men should not be declare as PLASTICS (I won’t tell why, figure it out yourself). That’s bigotry. It’s their choice.


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