Exploding Taste Buds at Gino's Boom Burgers

          I have recently learned that there are foods that would speed up weight gain for a certain blood type. In my case (Type B), it’s pork, chicken, and shell fish and some vegetables. So the only thing I can eat if I don’t want to lose weight are beneficial foods such as beef, goat, lamb, mutton, rabbit and venison. Among those meats, beef is the least expensive of all. The rest will cost me a lot of dough.

           SO after learning from my cousin via text that the dinner prepared at home was pork adobo, I knew I had to eat out. So I was thinking: BEEF. I don’t want to eat something that will make me fat.

            Since it’s been ages since I last ate a really good burger, I decided to go to Gino’s Boom Burgers since I wanted to try eating in their new branch near Torres St.

Torres branch. Other branches are located in Ecoland, Bajada, and near Sta. Ana Church (original branch). 

The last time I ate a Gino’s burger was in their first branch, which was not really the best-looking burger joint I’ve been to. It was a humble establishment, it was not air-conditioned, and the chairs and tables were a bit old. But when I took a bite of that huge western burger, I forgot to bother about how the place looked like. No wonder it was always packed with people. From that day on, I vowed to go back to Gino’s for another taste of that sumptuous meal-in-a-bun.

            That was more than a year ago, and it was only last night that I was able to keep that promise. 

            They have a wide variety of burgers to choose from and I’ve always wanted to try most of them. But last night I just wanted to rekindle that first moment I ate a Gino’s burger, so I ordered once again, The Western Burger.

            When my order arrived, I did not have any regrets. Between the buns was a stack of three onion rings topped with barbecue sauce. The onion pyramid rested on top of a cheese-covered char-grilled beef patty with lettuce and tomatoes underneath. And when I took that first bite, I was transported to that orally orgasmic moment in the past. And a delicious sensation was exploding in my mouth once again.

ANATOMY of my WESTERN BURGER: not bad for 120 bucks.

           I finished chowing down my burger in a few minutes, dropping some relishes occasionally.  But that’s what I love about these burgers, because the messier you eat, the tastier the burger becomes.

            I finished my meal by chugging down a can of ice-cold Coke. Then I felt bloated and slightly guilty for eating too much. But I still have faith in that Blood Type Diet which tells me that I wouldn’t gain much weight from eating that sumptuous beef burger.

Well, OK fine, I did run this morning just to be sure. But it was worth it.

THRIFTED: shoes

       I am such a huge fan of thrift shops. It is economically practical and it's exciting. But if there's one thing I love most about thrift-shopping is that victorious feeling of finding something nice for a very cheap price.

       Lately, shoes have been my obsession when I visit thrift shops because shoes are really expensive if you buy them from the mall especially for the guys. So that feeling of victory I told you a while ago is more intense because the shoes sold in thrift shops are 3-5 times cheaper than those from SM, Gaisano, and Ayala. So a good buy always makes me feel good. Plus, bragging rights are also perks.

       Speaking of bragging rights, allow me to use them. Here are the shoes I have recently thrifted:

      Pair #1: I like them but they're my least favorite pair. They were a little expensive for a pair that is not in its best condition. There are a few stains and portions of the velvet part are chapped. I love them, but I wish I got them for a cheaper price. I bargained them for Php180 from Php200. I should've pushed for a lower price.

Pair #1 for Php180

     Pair #2: MY LATEST BUY. I bought them from Bankerohan. It's still in really good condition. I love the color and I can wear it with a good pair of chinos or shorts. The first price offered to me by the woman in the thrift shop was a whopping Php400, and I was like "whoa! Mahal naman. (It's expensive.)" Then I walked away, but I somehow knew what was going to happen next. 

      Lo and behold, after a few seconds, the lady was going after me, then asked me how much I was willing to pay for the shoes. So I said, "I would've bought them for Php200." Then I made the face that said "But I'm no longer interested in them anymore." 

     I was containing my giggles as I paid the Php200 to the lady for the shoes. BOOYAH! Bought them for half the price! Lesson learned: you can get anything for a cheaper price if you put into good use your acting prowess to put on a little drama.

Pair #2: bargained from Php400 to Php200 thanks to my little skit.

      Pair #3: This pair is probably my best buy so far. I love the design, plus it's black (you can never go wrong with black). What makes me love them more is that when I ask my friends how much they think they cost, they would answer 4-digit prices. One even said Php8,000. Imagine her face when I told her how much I spent for them: Php75. Yes'sire, Php75 ONLY. 

Pair #3: My best buy. Php75 ONLY.

      SO if you have not tried shopping in thrift shops yet, give it a try. And if you buy something amazing that is worthy of bragging, comment on this post. I would like to discuss how great it feels to find something nice from a huge pile of old stuff.

Due to book-shop-lessness

           If there’s one thing to be blamed for my current life of bipolar intrapersonal communications and random insanity tantrums, it’s the absence of reading materials a.k.a. books- the only things that can distract me from my depression that was brought about by some unkind circumstance that life mercilessly puts on people like me who only wants to be happy and who, before this, is unconsciously writing this long introductory paragraph in just one sentence. (gasp)

            I am not in my right state of mind. I was losing it. I am losing it. Whatever IT is. I’m starting to sound like the cracking Gretchen Weaners.

            It has been almost three weeks since I left Davao to go home to our province. Being a new graduate (i.e. unemployed), I have no excuse to convince my parents to let me spend my summertime in Davao because they know I will end up just contemporaneously and mindlessly spending money for my temporary enjoyment. I’m not saying that my parents don’t want me to have fun and have a great time for a while. It’s more of a personal thing. I have to start learning to be independent considering that I would be entering a new world where I have to survive on my own without the monthly allowance that my dad sends me.

            Anyway, the reason why I’m not burying my nose in a good book is because 1) I left Davao without knowing how long I’ll be gone, so I just grabbed one book from the huge unread pile that was waiting for me the entire school year that has passed; 2) The only place we can buy books in our province are the book sales that sell old paperbacks. Unfortunately, I have the nerve to be finicky despite the desperation; and 3) I am craving for the latest books because I still have the graduation money my grandmother gifted me and I don’t want to spend all of it in old books and regret it in the future when there’s a new book in the market that would incite my interest.

            When my churchmates from Davao decided to visit me in our province, we decided to go to General Santos City, an hour away from our province, to find something fun to do. So I grabbed the opportunity. The moment we entered Robinson’s, I ran directly to National Book Store. Finally, a legit book shop.

           

            I panicked with the excitement that immediately dominated my system as I explored the shelves. However, euphoria brought me to make such a terrible mistake: I bought a book that I already owned.

            I was looking for a paperback copy of Mitch Albom’s new book (The Time Keeper), which I’ve been coveting for the past months but I can’t buy because I have been spending a lot for school requirements.

            Then I saw a copy of the author’s Have a Little Faith and immediately grabbed it thinking that that was the book I was looking for.

I directly purchased it without really thinking about it.

After reading a few pages, I felt that I’ve read it before, somewhere, in the distant past. I started to complain that it seems that he’s been recycling characters from his past books. Then I looked at the cover page and SHIT! Reality dawned on me.

I don’t really know how I would excuse myself from such stupidity but I will try:

Excuse #1: I was so eager to read a new book that I did not bother checking if it was really the one I wanted to buy. And I never thought that it was possible for a person to commit such mistake.

Excuse #2: My first copy of HALF was just gifted to me by a friend, so I have no memory whatsoever of buying it. So even if I bothered asking myself if I had bought the book before, it wouldn’t have stopped me from buying it. Plus, the one gifted to me was hardbound so the feel was different.

Excuse #3: The cover of the two books have some resemblances: the font of the title, how the name of the author was written, the triangles in the edges, and the ancient type of background. (See photo below)

            I still can’t get over this stupid mistake and I know I won’t be able to forgive myself anytime soon. But looking at the bright side, I learned that I should always think twice. Plus, at least the mistake drove me to write a post again after a long hiatus. I guess life’s lemons make good lemonade after all.   

an honest post

     This week has been emotionally hard for me. I don’t have to elaborate since it’s not the kind of thing I like to talk about online.

      I am a born-again blogger once again. But why is it that bad things happen now and it seems that I no longer have the passion to write in this condition? I don’t know how long before I get to write again. But I am hoping that I’ll be in a better condition one of these days. (fingers crossed)

       But before I get all melodramatic, I just have to write a post that I can come back to so that I’ll be reminded of the things I WOULD’VE written about if bad things did not happen to me. The list goes like this:

1.     Travelling alone to a foreign area (Davao del Norte)

2.     Mati/Dahican trip

3.     Trip to the province

4.     The thrift shopping

5.     Basilio’s

       I have interesting stories to tell, but I just need my heart when I write. Unfortunately, my heart is damaged right now and I don’t know if I’ll be writing anytime soon. But I’ll try. I might be able to write something but I know it won’t be something completely sincere. *sob*

       Lesson: Never break a heart full of passion, cause the passion might seep out through the cracks.

Tops in Cebu (May 2012)

At "Tops" (as the locals like to call it).

           The night was cold and my eyes were feasting on the dancing lights below me. At that moment it felt like nothing can ever touch me. The world could leave me alone even for just a little while. 

        How could I forget such moment when nothing seemed to matter? 

        Someday, I might come back here. That moment in the future seems distant, but my memory can always take me there. I shall someday dance with the lights again.

Ocean Man

     I have always been fond of going to the beach. I find peace in the sound of waves hitting the shore and ebb away towards the open sea. The cool ocean air calms my soul as I inhale it and exhale every single negative thought in my system with a whisper that only the wind can hear and carry away into the infinite abyss.

     But this time was a completely different experience and it brought me to priceless euphoria. Rain started pouring from the heavens and I've never seen the beach so breathtakingly perfect.

     My body was below the surface of the water and suddenly I can see nothing in the horizon but just a white blanket of smoke, right where the picturesque view of Davao used to be.

     Suddenly I'm surrounded by thousands of little white jumping tadpoles that were created by the raindrops as it touched the smooth surface of the ocean. And they seemed to be racing each other towards the limitless body of water. When truly they just become part of the ocean forever as I was at that very moment, nostalgic as my mind is swimming in the tides of yesteryears when that child, who has grown up to be the man in the middle of the ocean, once played in that shoreline not caring where tomorrow will bring him.  

In Defense of Mindanao

(as published in Sun Star Davao, Sunday Essays, December 3, 2011)

illustration by: the hobo who has access to Adobe Photoshop

     “MY NAME is Khan and I am not a terrorist.”This line is from the film “My Name is Khan,” a movie about a Muslim man in a quest to meet the President of the United States to tell him those very words. He wanted the world to know that not all Muslims are of notorious intentions. Whenever I think of Khan, I am reminded of a certain group of people: the Mindanaoans.

      For the past years, Mindanao has been projected by the media as the most dangerous place in the Philippines. It was labeled as a warzone, murder capital, the list could go on and on. All these were brought about by the seemingly endless war among the different rebel groups and the government.

True, Mindanao is the home for all Moro Liberation Front, Communist guerillas, Abu Sayyaf, etc. But it is not the entire island of Mindanao they occupy. They only live in some specific parts and the wars are not happening in the entire island.

      The generalization done by the media about Mindanao makes its people raise their brows. Because of the sensationalized stories from the national press, tourists are discouraged to pay a visit to Mindanao for the fear of abduction, chaos or any form of danger.

The Mindanaoan Press has been finding ways for so long now to carry their message to put an end to the sensationalism of stories about Mindanao by the media people in the northern part of the country especially the ones from Luzon. Unfortunately, their cries have fallen on deaf ears. Until now, the national press continues to make Mindanao appear like a giant deathbed to anyone who dares to enter.

It’s sad to know that these stories come from the sector of society who believes that no story is worth a life, yet they are sucking the life out of Mindanao and its people by the way their words destroy the island’s reputation.

      The Mindanaoans are not denying the existence of war. They simply want to end the fallacies fed by the national press. Mindanao is a beautiful and productive place. That beauty doesn’t deserve to be shadowed by dominant images of war and chaos. 

Service, Ser? (Service, Sir?)

(as published in Sun Star Davao, Sunday Essays, November 20, 2011)

illustration by: the hobo with access to Adobe Photoshop

          “Serbis, ser?” (Service, Sir?)

           This is exactly what I expected to get and lo and behold, I got it the moment I reached my destination.

           It was out of curiosity, and not of phallic urge that I decided to explore the infamous world of the sex workers in the downtown streets of Davao City. I’ve heard stories and somehow the skeptic in me wills to see and experience it myself before I believe the existence of such.

          As I walked the squalid street of San Pedro a few minutes past midnight, I was welcomed by this lengthy array of women in minis and “kigol shorts” who are accompanied by their “manager-slash-employer”, or in our local dialect is known as the “bugaw.” These potbellied individuals are in-charge of negotiating with possible customers hoping to get a good share of pecuniary interest.

          There I was. All around me was a spate of sexual offering. And for a moment I felt like these red-blooded women are feasting on me with their coruscating eyes looking at me like they want to rip my clothes off. But that short moment of vanity vanished when the bugaw told me how affordable their service was. It was my wallet they wanted to rip off, and so are those of other passersby.

          For them, everybody’s a prospective customer. Even if you will not make any eye contact or any sign of interest whatsoever, when you pass in front of them, they will still offer you their flesh like you were in some sort of public market.

          It is unnerving to think about how these people survive in this underground economy of leasing their bodies for a few hours and be used as a tool for sexual catharsis. I wonder how they are willing to reduce their selves to lesser human beings just to earn money. I pity them.

          There is no denying that a huge percentage of our city’s population is aware of these activities and so do our local government officials. It’s all happening under our noses and no one dares to do something about it. Everyone seems to tolerate this kind of immoral behavior. I pity us more.

         I stopped walking for a moment; scandalized by all those “servicers” I’ve encountered. It was weird because I sympathized them but I’m still disgusted of what they are doing. Then I asked myself, could I really blame those women?

        Suddenly, a voice came out of nowhere disrupting my meditation. “Serbis, Ser?” I looked back and I saw this thin man. I cringed. Just when I though it couldn’t get any worse. 

Hard Candy (a movie review)

It has been a few days now since I started bumming around. But who can blame me? I just graduated. Being in school for almost two decades, I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

However, even if I am relishing my moments of unemployment, I’m not entirely being useless. I store myself with knowledge from the things that school life deprived me. I’ve been reading novels and magazines, but somehow those things require a little bit of work. Because you have to change positions every now and then, you have to flip from page to page. Same thing is true with gallivanting all over the city, in malls and thrift shops, because it requires, well, moving.

But don’t get me wrong. I love doing those things. But I sometimes prefer the lazy way of gaining knowledge: watching a movie. Lazy might be a negative way of describing it, but I don’t mean it that way, nor am I saying that people who watch films are lazy. It’s lazy because you just lie down in front of my laptop and let the story unfold before your eyes.

Anyway, I was looking through the long compendium of movie files in my external drive and I stumbled upon this movie that I’ve planned to watch a long time ago but was not able to do so because I had student duties. The title is “Hard Candy.” Before I get on with my review, here are the real reasons why I wanted to watch it. First, Ellen Page is in it. After Juno, I swore to grab every opportunity to watch a movie that she stars in. And second, Ellen Page is in it.

Ellen Page in Hard Candy. Handsome?

Hard Candy (2005) is about a precocious fourteen year old girl named Hayley Stark (Ellen Page) who meets up with a guy she met on the Internet, Jeff Kohlver (Patrick Allen), a thirty-two year old photographer.

Despite the age difference, the two agrees to meet up and make out. When they finally met in a coffee shop, the two started flirting with each other, not really caring about their age difference.

When Jeff brings Hayley to his house, what started out as a something seemingly romantic has turned into a terrifying scenario involving Jeff being tied up on a table, half naked, and ready castrated by an amateur surgeon that Hayley has suddenly become.

As the story progresses, secrets are revealed putting Jeff in a hopeless situation. Hayley refuses to budge from whatever desperate bargain or bribe from Jeff. Giving only two ends, unending suffering, or a tragic end to it.

The gore was sufficient. It has an unusual mix of horror and delight. The plot is unpredictable. The impressive use of color transition in depicting the bipolarity of Hayley’s character is commendable. Depicting the two main characters to be despicable but someone you will still pity was not an easy task, but it was surprisingly accomplished.

Overall, I give it a 3.5/5. It would’ve been a four if I did not know beforehand that (WARNING! Spoiler alert) his balls will really be cut off and if he showed even just a hint of struggle in walking after losing two very important parts of his manhood.

Bloody and Chunky shot

Something to keenly watch out for: the Little-Red-Riding-Hood look of Hayley could mean something. A reference to the real character of the fairy tale girl, maybe? (wink) But don’t trust me, I’m not an expert.

red hoodie