Trying to keep some sanity here...

YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (Name of first pet + street where you live)
Boomer Marietta - sounds like some Pinoy with a long black dong

YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (Favorite snack + first name of grandfather)
Turon Tan Sing - top billing 'yan

YOUR FASHION DESIGNER NAME: (First word you see on your left + Favorite restaurant)
Nokia Prince Albert - so bading...

EXOTIC FOREIGNER ALIAS: (Favorite Spice + Last Vacation Spot Visited)
MSG Boracay - ahahahahaha! vetsin!

SOCIALITE ALIAS: (Silliest Childhood Nickname + Town Where You First Partied)
BangBang Quezon - sound more like a porn star

"FLY GIRL" ALIAS (a la J. Lo): (First Initial + First Two or Three Letters of your Last Name)
L. Men

ICON ALIAS: (Something Sweet Within Sight + Any Liquid in Kitchen)
Maxwell Agua

DETECTIVE ALIAS: (Favorite Baby Animal + Where You Went to High School)
Puppy Pesa

BARFLY ALIAS: (Last Snack Food You Ate + Your Favorite Alcoholic Drink)
Sashimi Asti

SOAP OPERA ALIAS: (Middle Name + First Word you see on your Right)
Chua Marks & Spencer - that's what i call Tisay

ROCK STAR ALIAS: (Favorite Candy/Dessert + Last Name Of Favorite Musician)
Roca Gore

marked for life

I twisted, turned, contorted into every which way...but really, I couldn't find any. Nary a birthmark on or anywhere near my nether regions. (Cellulite's different, Lee.)

So whose bad luck could it possibly be for our spanking-new SUV to sustain four accidents in five months, the latest being last night?

Let's run down the past five month's dents, scratches, and major repairs:

1. A motorcyled messenger squeezes himself into the curb, between rows of parked vehicles. His handlebar scratches the passenger's door.

2. A lady driver in a CRV conveniently backs up onto front bumper of my PARKED vehicle. Major repairs and replacements needed: bumper, headlights, and hood.

3. My life partner from whose "essence" contributed to another life I cherish, gets rear-ended by a taxi, and careens into a sidewalk eatery. Major repairs and replacements needed: the newly-replaced bumper, newly-replaced headlights and newly-replaced hood. Rear bumber and fenders.

4. While we were waiting for the lights to change at an intersection, another motorcycle squeezes into the curb and slips, denting the passenger door. The difference between this and Number 1? The guys on the bike were from Makati's finest...SWAT.

And no, that major episode of hurling inside didn't count.

class reunion

After 8 years, my college batch finally got its much-awaited yearbook. And no, we didn't set the record for longest yearbook waiting time...the class of 1980-plus got theirs after 12.

So the yearbook was out, and what better way to celebrate than to party and hold a reunion, right? For a class of around 900+, after eight years, we figured only a handful would come. Right we were. The batch e-group had only around 400 members, the Friendster group had only around 200...a networking and logistics nightmare if we had to send out invites.

But it was a blast, despite the fact that I only knew four people out of the twenty-plus who came. The two guys who thought up of the reunion pledged five thousand bucks for drinks and grub, and that covered so much beer and cocktails even for a place so swanky. (It's no Cowboy Grill, mind you.)

Them beers just kept coming, and I just kept drinking...and drinking, and drinking. I don't remember how many bottles I had, but I do recall that nobody paid attention to the pitcher of wengweng so graciously laid on the table except yours truly. I must have been really wasted, I might have said a lot of things I shouldn't have, like how marriage shouldn't be a lifelong contract or my gynecologist's findings from my last pap smear...I'm not really sure now.

But that's not where my adventure ends. The night had to end for me and I was driving my intoxicated ass home. I wobbled to the car and managed to keep my eyes WIDE open the whole trip. The fun part, though, was when I had to choose between the car's new floor mats or my skirt. My life partner would kill me if I chose the mat. Crap. No choice. So I hurled CHUNKS, man. The kikiam rice from Henlin, beer and wengweng, all on my Zara skirt. Hurling while driving! Kaya 'nyo yon?

Cry vodka

Tell me how this will make a case strong:

For one thing, lawyer Carlitos Cruz said yesterday, the elements of premeditation were present. "She was seduced into drinking seven glasses of vodka tonic. These could be spiked with drugs-the reason why she came out dizzy," he said.

I'm expecting some smart lawyer to counter-blog me...but come on! How can she be "seduced" into drinking seven glasses of vodka tonic? And spiked too, for the dizzying effect?

I'm a heavy drinker myself...seven vodka tonics do not a sober woman make. I seriously doubt if it had to be spiked with Ativan or diazepam...spiked alcohol? Er, alcohol is a drug, Attorney, a depressant, to be specific. And that's my sober self speaking. If my seven glasses of vodka tonic were indeed spiked, I'd be out like a light. I probably wouldn't have felt any semblance of sex because my central nervous system would already have been severely depressed. I'd wake up naked and in some unfamiliar place, most probably. If indeed I took seven shots of spiked vodka.

"Seduced" my ass. Ok, she probably didn't know she was drinking vodka because it looked like water, and since it tasted different, she probably thought it was flavored water, and she was thirsty, and the more she drank it, the thirstier she got. Ergo, dizzy.

I'm not siding with the American servicemen here. Neither am I calling her a slut who got what she deserved. But come on...getting drunk and getting some action was probably in her agenda. Unfortunately for her, assuming she was indeed raped, the guy had other things in mind.

Sorry if I sound harsh. Been around too many damsels in distress who get themselves into trouble.