I'm back. Here's my 
Ah the fresh smell of free tickets. I had no plans whatsoever of watching The Beyonce Experience, but when someone’s already slapping free tickets on your face… you just have to grab that chance to see one of your favorite singer even if it’s totally gay.
Yes, I secretly love Beyonce Knowles. Which is no longer a secret now that I publicly dismissed it. Behind this indie facade, there’s something really tempting and graciously boner-inducing that makes me listen to all of Beyonce’s songs. Even though some of her songs are “female empowering” (read: man-hater/lesbian), it still appeals to me in so many levels. It makes me shimmy and brings me into this hypnotic stance where I just divulge myself into some serious ass-shaking (totally gay.), plus her songs are always catchy and has nice beats.
November 7, my mom woke me up early to accompany her in buying pirated DVDs and CD-ROMs of Nursing reviewers. She also threw in the whole “Let’s go to Quiapo!” spiel to make me move my ass already. So we went to PRC and then Quiapo. She dragged me into these different tiangges that I barely had time to go DVD hunting. She gave me an hour to do my job. It wasn’t enough but I did find a nice Quiapo Haul with my 250 pesos.
Pink Flamingos, For Your Consideration, The Host, Spartan, Bobby, Andy Warhol’s Flesh for Frankenstein, Being John Malkovich, Knocked Up: Unrated, Closer, & Monty Python and the Holy Grail: Deluxe Edition.
With that in order, we went back home.
It was all over the news, Beyonce’s arrival. I really had no plan to see it because the tickets are expensive and all that shits. However, at 4:30 pm of November 7, 2007, one phone call changed everything.
Filed under: Family Values
This picture of my mom scared me to death back then. Back when I was a kid, I used to cry whenever they’d show me this picture of her. I cried and cried and cried and told everyone that the woman in that picture wasn’t my mom because she’s fugly.
I was used to the fact that my mom was chubby and not a kolehiyala with a 22-inch waist. She always said that I ruined her perfect 22-inch waist. But after she said that, she would always kiss me and tell me that it doesn’t really matter what her waistline was. She’d tell me that it’s totally worth it to lose her waistline kasi daw, I was born. Naks!
Now, I’m still afraid of the picture. Not because she’s fugly and scary on it. But because of the fact that I wasn’t in the picture. And I realized that my mom is beautiful through and through. She’s not just really photogenic. Hahaha!
Anyway, It’s her 44th birthday today! And I just want to say to the entire world that I LOVE MY MOM! WHOOO-HOOOO! No kidding, that’s like… totally true. She’s the only one who would put up with me for 18 looong years! She was there when I was born, when I was circumcised, and hopefully, she’ll be there when I de-virginize someone! HOOORAY! Oh shit, just kidding.
Anyway, yes. Thanks to you mah dear mother, best friend, worst enemy, secret-keeper, money-giver, light-giver, food-bearer, pizza-eater, sick-healer MADER! Hooray for you, mom! You’re like totally awesome! Seriously. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I don’t even have to say it. She knows I do, and in my previous posts, I already posted why I love her!
Maaaaa! Happy 44th Birthday! Goddamn, you’re old! I LOVE YOU!
