Vandalism: Here and There

Hi, guys.

You were led here to answer this. This, my semi-formal, semi-informal survey. This won't take long, I swear; the questions are pretty basic. (You are entitled to delve longer on it, though. It's up to you: In a rush to check your Facebook account? Go ahead. Or, you've got nothing to do? Great.) Your answers will be used as data for analysis for my paper in CL 150 (Survey of Philippine Literature) regarding vandalism found in U.P. Diliman, particularly, the men's comfort rooms of the C.A.L. and C.O.E. buildings. I will be so grateful if you do respond (at the comment box).

So, game? Let's doodle.

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From which college are you, CAL or ENG'G: _______

1.) Did you ever vandalize? (If no, go ahead to question 4.)

2.) Here in U.P.; did you do it in your college, or in other another place? What did you write about?

3.) Why did you do it? - *proceed to question 5 afterward*

4.) Why not?

5.) (In the spectator mode) What are the most interesting lines you've seen in your respective college's comfort rooms (or in the other - CAL students in ENG'G (Meron ba? Ha-ha.), ENG'G students in CAL)? Why so?

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Very many thanks to you. Have a great day!

The Beauty and the Perv

PICTURE: On whatever meaning of "overshadow" you intact: Theresa Licaros did overshadow the author.

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Last Wednesday me and my MuL9 (Music Literature) classmates were being offered by some people to play as extras in their short film. My companions, reeking of boundless energy and caffeine, were very eager. I was not so, uh, eager; performing in a film - more so a short film - was not in my agenda and, pardon me, I was not in the mood for charity work.

And to think that before that my crowd had just went through a stressful musical program (maybe I was the only one affected) when this director, interrupting us from further Kodakan duties, appeared in search of extras. "Can you help us ... (blah blah blah) ... " I was in the process of discreetly stepping aside right then. " ... Theresa Licaros ... (blah blah blah)," the director said. My ear, sniffing the name, commanded my head to make a 360-degree turn. "Come again. Theresa Licaros, you say?"

Anna Theresa Licaros, the Bb. Pilipinas-Universe 2007 titleholder. My band of camera-armed men and women - photographing freaks. An idea was channeling through my system.

I had never been photographed in the company of someone famous before. Not even with the cute kid in Feng Shui. This could be the golden opportunity! So "Count me in!" I announced.

Their film project is entitled Magna. Basing from that one location that we were filmed and from stealing glances in the script, I think it was about a student pursuing his masteral degree and his life among undergraduate college students. His extended stay in the university, typical of an individual finishing his graduate studies, was being documented. Magna-nine years, as been jokingly termed; hence the title.

We were being filmed at a classroom. The girls would portray innocent roles. The boys as mischievous and naughty perverts. Ha! Piece of cake, I thought, although I wanted to shout out "gender stereotyping" really. Both Glecie and me were made to switch seats for I-lost-count times. Majo's mere participation was later upgraded to a more daring role - the love interest of the lead. Superstar Dean's (as later we would playfully call him) hidden acting prowess would be discovered and be exploited, to their sheer delight. Riots would be staged dramatically and in repetition, much to my annoyance. Soon, before my brain could completely absorb this whole being-in-this-production thing, I realized we were already being made into little Pinocchios that enter whenever yes-he's-still-the-President President Bush makes his oh-no-he-didn't speeches. Like oh my god crap, so this is how working in this industry would be like when you're being forced to do so - you vomit your so-called talent. But no worries, I repeatedly rammed in my brain, Theresa will come. Oh yes she will. Everything will be alright.

Two hours later my nostrils were already accumulating snot and she still hadn't. Oh great, I forgot the one golden rule of being a celebrity: you never ever arrive in the location in no less than 2 hours. It's either that or, quite possibly, you're Mother Teresa.

Maybe it was the traffic because ten minutes right after she finally had freaking made it. Oh how they rejoiced. When you're the star of the show, every reason for being late, et al., woke up late, stuck in traffic, million-dollar shoe got eaten by the neighbor's cockatoo, among others, is acceptable and will be quickly dismissed.

But, you know what, she was really the deal. Even without a single tinge of makeup she was drop-dead gorgeous. And without much effort she quickly got into her role (which was by the way your typical male fantasy teacher). Wow, I was impressed!

I blame these hormones but I really fell for her.

Before my crowd was allowed to leave the set (and to take pictures with the goddess), there was this one scene. Theresa would now be required to leave the room as a teacher would normally do at the end of her session. The boys, horny as heavenly hell, would act rabidly to her departure. Since I was sort-of inspired I thought of making my final act (already in itself over-the-top) over-the-top. I yelled at the top of my lungs, with absolutely no holding-back reflexes and coming from my kidney stones, "I love you, ma'am!!!" in comparison with the other guys' "suppressed, robotic" reactions.

Someone giggled. I didn't know who; from total embarrassment of my previous action I was counting dust mites on the floor. I wanted to demand the owner of that melodic chime. That giggle, so sweet. So seducing. So ...

I farted. (Really. I swear to the invisible mole in my butt.) Well I hope Theresa didn't hear that.

The (Supposed-to-be) Great Oblation Run 2008

PICTURE: Oh yes; oust GMA with countless Stop Campus Repression streamers. But look at all the faces. I bet the one who's holding the "OUST GMA!" sign was itching to scream like hell into the horde of more screaming people.

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Five things:
1.) Screaming girls, much-louder screaming gays, and screaming-for-the-sparing-of-their-equipment cameramen plopped over nude guys.
2.) There has been talk of a future, all-out anarchy of the Arroyo administration in the university, which pretty much explains the heavily guarded ambiance of the event.
3.) Added commandments for a participant in a university-based streaking event (if there is one):

a.) Thou must run in going commando fashion after dipping whole body in cold water.
b.) Thou must now stride, rather than run, to prevent phallic unnecessary movements.
c.) Thou must now intentionally remove mask to reveal owner of previously-dipped-in-cold-water phallus. (Applies to highly confident individuals who are willing to suicide their dignities)

4.) You have to give it to the girl who heckled "... puro ulo ..." in the video.

5.) Only in the University of the Philippines will you see college dudes "going commando". It's starting to get pretty lame, but whether we shamelessly like it or not, it's here to stay.

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Watch the whole thing - recorded clumsily by yours truly - here. (Yes you will see that 2 minutes is enough to justify the whole event.)