As long as it's done in good taste...
God-like editing skillz!
Happens to me all the time
George Orwell's Animal Farm, 2013 version
They sell them in a wide variety of shapes and sizes
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
A Love Song Story
once there was a little boy named Mr. Big, and he sat by a Christ-mass tree. and he cried buckles of tears. and he wept and wept. and his wailing was heard in all directions by people, places and things.
now, these people, places and things got so bothered by the ruckus this little boy was making. so they all went to him to see if there was anything they could do to keep him from crying.
first to come by was a horny gaye preacher man. not gaye queer, but gaye haha. “brother, brother..” he spoke. “what’s going on?”
the little boy named Mr. Big looked up as he wiped his buckle-sized tears. “i loved a girl but she didn't love me back. when she left, i told her to just take my heart, and she did.” he replied.
“lost your heart, eh? don't worry boy, all you need is a little bit of… sexual healing, heh.” the horny gaye preacherman suggested coyly.
“there’s nothing you can do.” interrupted a four-headed beatle, as it climbed down from the Christ-mass tree. it looked at the child and said, “don't listen to him. all you need is love.”
now each of the beatle’s heads had a name, and they were called, from left to right: John the bespectacled, Paul, George and Green-go. “.. love is all you need.”, the bespectacled one added.
now amongst the crowd there was a girl named Tina. Tina-who-turned-her, as she was oft called, has had her heart broken one too many times. and she got mad when she heard what the beatle had to say. “what’s love got to do with it?!” she inquired declaratively. “who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?”
and everyone else apart from the beatle agreed to what she said, and they all stared at the beatle. and the beatle, in humiliation, broke up. but Egg Yolk O’Oh-no, who was also among the crowd, took pity on John the bespectacled, so she cared for him in the three other beatle’s stead, and the two of them left the crowd to give peace a chance.
“stop, in the name of love!” screamed a group of minstrels, all the while raising their hands with their palms facing the now denser crowd, as if to appease the growing uneasiness. “think it over!” they pleaded, but no one was really listening.
“love hurts” opined Nazareth, who was a slumbering place awoken from her sleep by the child’s woes. “i’ve really learned a lot. REALLY learned a lot”, she added. and everyone believed her because they knew of the man who once born on Nazareth’s bosom and lived and died and changed the world. and everyone started to calm down a little, though just a little.
“i would do anything for love.” murmured an envious meatloaf.
Patti the Blacksmith, hungry from her travels, crept behind the meatloaf, and gobbled him up. “but sometimes, love just ain’t enough.”, she burped. and everyone laughed upon seeing the meatloaf’s demise.
even those of royal blood descended from their palace to see the boy:
“your hurt will heal, little boy.’cause you don’t have a wooden heart.” said the King.
“funny thing for you to say, o king of mine. right after you just killed a man.” said the Queen.
“ah-huh...ah-huh....” said the Princess formerly known as Prince, in his/her usual/unusual high-pitched faggoty voice.
and the crowd gave each of their opium-onions and adder-vices to the boy, and the boy tried to listen. but each time he heard one, he would realize how useless these opium-onions and adder-vices were, so instead he continued to cry. now this infuriated the crowd even more, and they started to argue amongst themselves and their voices started to rise, and tension started to spread. and they failed to see that the boy’s tears have started to engulf them all.
“there’s a hole in his heart that can only be filled by what?!” exclaimed a group of extremists.
“perhaps love.” said John from Denver.
“but where’s the love?” asked the three little Hanson pigs. “just give it up! ’cause it’s gone in an mmmbop!”
“don’t the three of you know?” interrupted a very wet, wet, wet man. “love is all around you. just like Christ-mass is all around you” and everyone made a face and raised their eyebrows at the wet, wet, wet man, for they wondered what made him say that. none of them realizing that it was love, actually.
but before anyone else from the crowd could speak up next, the boy’s tears turned into an enormous tidal wave that drowned them all and killed them all. and the only ones able to survive were the eagles, for they could flap their wings over the rising waters. “love will keep us alive.” they said proudly, as they soared into non-existence.
as the violent waves settled down, the boy’s tears had turned the place around the Christ-mass tree into an oasis, and it had a life of its own. and it saw that there was no one else left to talk some sense into the boy, so it began to speak. “i don’t believe that anybody feels the way i do about you now.” said the oasis, as it saw the boy through those teary eyes.
“maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me, i'm tired of waiting on a line of greens and blues” the little boy named Mr. Big sniffed, as he waited for the oasis to answer.
“by now, you should have realized what you got to do.” nodded the oasis borne of the little boy’s tears. “after all, you’re my waterfall.”
once the boy heard this pun and realized the oasis' wit, he began to smile and laugh, and his tears began to stop.
and the boy and the oasis became the best of friends and talked about love ’till the end of time under the Christ-mass tree. they're there still.
now, these people, places and things got so bothered by the ruckus this little boy was making. so they all went to him to see if there was anything they could do to keep him from crying.
first to come by was a horny gaye preacher man. not gaye queer, but gaye haha. “brother, brother..” he spoke. “what’s going on?”
the little boy named Mr. Big looked up as he wiped his buckle-sized tears. “i loved a girl but she didn't love me back. when she left, i told her to just take my heart, and she did.” he replied.
“lost your heart, eh? don't worry boy, all you need is a little bit of… sexual healing, heh.” the horny gaye preacherman suggested coyly.
“there’s nothing you can do.” interrupted a four-headed beatle, as it climbed down from the Christ-mass tree. it looked at the child and said, “don't listen to him. all you need is love.”
now each of the beatle’s heads had a name, and they were called, from left to right: John the bespectacled, Paul, George and Green-go. “.. love is all you need.”, the bespectacled one added.
now amongst the crowd there was a girl named Tina. Tina-who-turned-her, as she was oft called, has had her heart broken one too many times. and she got mad when she heard what the beatle had to say. “what’s love got to do with it?!” she inquired declaratively. “who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?”
and everyone else apart from the beatle agreed to what she said, and they all stared at the beatle. and the beatle, in humiliation, broke up. but Egg Yolk O’Oh-no, who was also among the crowd, took pity on John the bespectacled, so she cared for him in the three other beatle’s stead, and the two of them left the crowd to give peace a chance.
“stop, in the name of love!” screamed a group of minstrels, all the while raising their hands with their palms facing the now denser crowd, as if to appease the growing uneasiness. “think it over!” they pleaded, but no one was really listening.
“love hurts” opined Nazareth, who was a slumbering place awoken from her sleep by the child’s woes. “i’ve really learned a lot. REALLY learned a lot”, she added. and everyone believed her because they knew of the man who once born on Nazareth’s bosom and lived and died and changed the world. and everyone started to calm down a little, though just a little.
“i would do anything for love.” murmured an envious meatloaf.
Patti the Blacksmith, hungry from her travels, crept behind the meatloaf, and gobbled him up. “but sometimes, love just ain’t enough.”, she burped. and everyone laughed upon seeing the meatloaf’s demise.
even those of royal blood descended from their palace to see the boy:
“your hurt will heal, little boy.’cause you don’t have a wooden heart.” said the King.
“funny thing for you to say, o king of mine. right after you just killed a man.” said the Queen.
“ah-huh...ah-huh....” said the Princess formerly known as Prince, in his/her usual/unusual high-pitched faggoty voice.
and the crowd gave each of their opium-onions and adder-vices to the boy, and the boy tried to listen. but each time he heard one, he would realize how useless these opium-onions and adder-vices were, so instead he continued to cry. now this infuriated the crowd even more, and they started to argue amongst themselves and their voices started to rise, and tension started to spread. and they failed to see that the boy’s tears have started to engulf them all.
“there’s a hole in his heart that can only be filled by what?!” exclaimed a group of extremists.
“perhaps love.” said John from Denver.
“but where’s the love?” asked the three little Hanson pigs. “just give it up! ’cause it’s gone in an mmmbop!”
“don’t the three of you know?” interrupted a very wet, wet, wet man. “love is all around you. just like Christ-mass is all around you” and everyone made a face and raised their eyebrows at the wet, wet, wet man, for they wondered what made him say that. none of them realizing that it was love, actually.
but before anyone else from the crowd could speak up next, the boy’s tears turned into an enormous tidal wave that drowned them all and killed them all. and the only ones able to survive were the eagles, for they could flap their wings over the rising waters. “love will keep us alive.” they said proudly, as they soared into non-existence.
as the violent waves settled down, the boy’s tears had turned the place around the Christ-mass tree into an oasis, and it had a life of its own. and it saw that there was no one else left to talk some sense into the boy, so it began to speak. “i don’t believe that anybody feels the way i do about you now.” said the oasis, as it saw the boy through those teary eyes.
“maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me, i'm tired of waiting on a line of greens and blues” the little boy named Mr. Big sniffed, as he waited for the oasis to answer.
“by now, you should have realized what you got to do.” nodded the oasis borne of the little boy’s tears. “after all, you’re my waterfall.”
once the boy heard this pun and realized the oasis' wit, he began to smile and laugh, and his tears began to stop.
and the boy and the oasis became the best of friends and talked about love ’till the end of time under the Christ-mass tree. they're there still.
Songs and Emotions
my parents could already tell that i had an inkling to be a musician since i was three. back then, i had this book of nursery rhymes that i could sing by heart, from one book end to another. well, my listening palette has increased considerably since then, and music has become the catalyst for many turning points and decision-making in my life. here are the songs that mean a great deal to me. maybe you could take the time to check each of them out and listen to them at your own time, perhaps they may do you good as well.
1. de do do do (the police)/ wait (the beatles)/ matthew (john denver) - the songs i listened to the most when i was around 4-7 years old. the melodies were what first pulled me in, because back then i still couldn’t understand what the songs were about (not that i do now). many thanks to my father for making me listen to them, also for whipping me silly when i ruined the stereo from excessively rewinding and playing the tapes.
2. sleepyhouse (blind melon) - the most sublime vocal melodies i have ever listened to, especially when shannon hoon declares, “the mistakes that i made, they don’t seem to bother me, and i sure as hell don’t feel like i missed any kind of train.” no worries, no remorse. truly, complacency at times can be a virtue.
3. mayonnaise (smashing pumpkins) - who doesn’t love this song? probably those who don't have ears. probably.
4. airbag (radiohead) - whenever i hear the cello and guitar intro i feel the urge close my eyes and conduct an unseen orchestra. everything in this song screams genius. from the loop-like drumbeats to the sparse basslines to thom yorke’s drunken lyricism. the song talks about transcending your mortality and material possessions, at least that's what methinks.
5. little wing (jimi hendrix) - the song that made me rethink my guitar playing. when i first heard this, i could almost hear jimi saying, “listen up and get schooled, boy!” i bought my fender strat before i heard this song, which isn't the guitar i actually wanted (FYI, it was washburn n2). in retrospect, i am so glad it’s the guitar that i chose. makes me comfortably numb knowing i’m playing the same type of guitar that jimi did.
6. reptile (nine inch nails) - bad break up? this is the perfect song to listen to. the lyrics confirm what all men will eventually come to know: that women are the sadistic spawns of satan.
7. #41 (dave matthews band) - nothing can compare to the sense of urgency that radiates from this song. coupled with matthews’ syrupy vocals and desperately pleading lyrics, a song i always dream to play live. now if only i can find a band to play with that's just as good…
8. three stars and the sun (francism) - a song that every patriotic filipino should listen to. i come close to tears almost everytime i hear francism’s voice almost cracking and faltering as he screams “don’t tell me that you understand, it’s been 400 years of tears for the brown man!” heck, i’m already in tears as i’m typing this. whoever isn’t moved by this song is one passive prick.
9. toxicity (system of a down) - the last great rock band to walk the earth. hearing the song for the first time, i wanted to start a riot. "disorder!!! disorder!!!" yeah! this song really perked up my curiosity because the music was metal, yet funky. and the lyrics were dead serious, but the singing sounded satirical, almost sarcastic. a real fun band to listen to, pity they broke up.
10. bohemian rhapsody (queen) - the greatest song in the world, ever. ’nuff said.
1. de do do do (the police)/ wait (the beatles)/ matthew (john denver) - the songs i listened to the most when i was around 4-7 years old. the melodies were what first pulled me in, because back then i still couldn’t understand what the songs were about (not that i do now). many thanks to my father for making me listen to them, also for whipping me silly when i ruined the stereo from excessively rewinding and playing the tapes.
2. sleepyhouse (blind melon) - the most sublime vocal melodies i have ever listened to, especially when shannon hoon declares, “the mistakes that i made, they don’t seem to bother me, and i sure as hell don’t feel like i missed any kind of train.” no worries, no remorse. truly, complacency at times can be a virtue.
3. mayonnaise (smashing pumpkins) - who doesn’t love this song? probably those who don't have ears. probably.
4. airbag (radiohead) - whenever i hear the cello and guitar intro i feel the urge close my eyes and conduct an unseen orchestra. everything in this song screams genius. from the loop-like drumbeats to the sparse basslines to thom yorke’s drunken lyricism. the song talks about transcending your mortality and material possessions, at least that's what methinks.
5. little wing (jimi hendrix) - the song that made me rethink my guitar playing. when i first heard this, i could almost hear jimi saying, “listen up and get schooled, boy!” i bought my fender strat before i heard this song, which isn't the guitar i actually wanted (FYI, it was washburn n2). in retrospect, i am so glad it’s the guitar that i chose. makes me comfortably numb knowing i’m playing the same type of guitar that jimi did.
6. reptile (nine inch nails) - bad break up? this is the perfect song to listen to. the lyrics confirm what all men will eventually come to know: that women are the sadistic spawns of satan.
7. #41 (dave matthews band) - nothing can compare to the sense of urgency that radiates from this song. coupled with matthews’ syrupy vocals and desperately pleading lyrics, a song i always dream to play live. now if only i can find a band to play with that's just as good…
8. three stars and the sun (francism) - a song that every patriotic filipino should listen to. i come close to tears almost everytime i hear francism’s voice almost cracking and faltering as he screams “don’t tell me that you understand, it’s been 400 years of tears for the brown man!” heck, i’m already in tears as i’m typing this. whoever isn’t moved by this song is one passive prick.
9. toxicity (system of a down) - the last great rock band to walk the earth. hearing the song for the first time, i wanted to start a riot. "disorder!!! disorder!!!" yeah! this song really perked up my curiosity because the music was metal, yet funky. and the lyrics were dead serious, but the singing sounded satirical, almost sarcastic. a real fun band to listen to, pity they broke up.
10. bohemian rhapsody (queen) - the greatest song in the world, ever. ’nuff said.
“Hating” American Idol (August 20th, 2009)
i recently made a scalding comment about American Idol on the August 2009 issue of Pulp and i’ve been receiving flak from some of my friends ever since. let me have this opportunity to explain myself.
first of all, i don’t hate American Idol. i watch the auditions for chrissakes.
what i hate is what it has turned the listening public into.
let’s face it, the youth as a collective is highly impressionable. and if a young impressionable person watches the show, what he/she hears are “pointers” on how to become a star, how a star should perform on stage, and all the norms and mores and the hullabalooshit are unconsciously force-fed into said youth. so this youth, thinking that everything that randy, paula and simon says are the gospel to superstardom (hey, they’re on tv, they must be right), begins to pattern him/herself to this image of what a star should be. now, we have a safe and stale “artist” in our hands.
now this would have been ok if not for the fact that the masses tend to immerse themselves with this kind of “artist”. think about it. look at the current top 40 of music today. any artist in today’s list could easily fit into an American Idol competition. Katy Perry? Taylor Swift? Jonas Brothers?!?!?!?!
15 years ago, music was so diverse and exciting. in any top40 list, you’d probably find the Backstreet Boys, but you’ll also find Nirvana. on one side you’ve got Dido, but Wu-tang Clan is sitting just right beside her. music could be fresh, sweet, weird, and dangerous at the same time. one line of a song could immediately change the course of your life.
i badly miss those days.
so in conclusion, i hope i have made it clear that i don’t see American Idol as the enemy. it still boils down to us as a public to be discerning of the artists we support and listen to. here’s hoping that music can be once again exciting and life-changing as it used to be.
first of all, i don’t hate American Idol. i watch the auditions for chrissakes.
what i hate is what it has turned the listening public into.
let’s face it, the youth as a collective is highly impressionable. and if a young impressionable person watches the show, what he/she hears are “pointers” on how to become a star, how a star should perform on stage, and all the norms and mores and the hullabalooshit are unconsciously force-fed into said youth. so this youth, thinking that everything that randy, paula and simon says are the gospel to superstardom (hey, they’re on tv, they must be right), begins to pattern him/herself to this image of what a star should be. now, we have a safe and stale “artist” in our hands.
now this would have been ok if not for the fact that the masses tend to immerse themselves with this kind of “artist”. think about it. look at the current top 40 of music today. any artist in today’s list could easily fit into an American Idol competition. Katy Perry? Taylor Swift? Jonas Brothers?!?!?!?!
15 years ago, music was so diverse and exciting. in any top40 list, you’d probably find the Backstreet Boys, but you’ll also find Nirvana. on one side you’ve got Dido, but Wu-tang Clan is sitting just right beside her. music could be fresh, sweet, weird, and dangerous at the same time. one line of a song could immediately change the course of your life.
i badly miss those days.
so in conclusion, i hope i have made it clear that i don’t see American Idol as the enemy. it still boils down to us as a public to be discerning of the artists we support and listen to. here’s hoping that music can be once again exciting and life-changing as it used to be.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
With a Twist
The Filipino fart is worth dying for.
Because a Filipino would rather die than admit it.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Relationships
my bestfriend lost his mom yesterday, and i can't help but be overwhelmed by the finality of it all. i'm trying to wrap my mind about the fact that once a human life is lost, there's no way of getting it back. i think about the people i hold dear, and how devastating it would be to lose them. fuck the people who would try to console me by saying that my loved ones will live on in my memory when time comes for the maker to take them. they're gone. and there will no longer be any conversation, argument, touch, or experience to look forward to.
i think about my brother in canada, my mother in cagayan de oro, and how i can now only spend a week or two with them at a time, when we used to spend almost every hour of every day together. i think about my former bandmates and the times when we shared similar dreams. i think about the women to whom i eagerly bore my heart. and i start wondering, how much time do we have left to talk to another, before one of us bites the dust?
i have sworn never to be indifferent, to be there for anyone who needs me. i have sworn to be god's holy hero. i promised to give into every relationship i have until it bleeds me dry. but still, none of that can bring someone back.
how i wish i didn't have to grow up.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Isn't It Good... Norwegian Wood
Yesterday was the first time we were alone in her house; sans siblings, sans parents, sans hired help. Sure, we’ve been alone in a room before, but those times there was always somebody at the other room. This one was definitely different.
We’ve done it about 20 times before. As a movie star, she has a public commitment to promote her shows at malls and other events, and she commissions me to make her minus one accompaniments. We then record her backing vocals at her home. I then mix the tracks and send her a copy which she then uses at her promos. Over that span of time I’ve gotten to know a side of her that she’s never shown her adoring public.
On screen, she’s the epitome of sensual cool. She’s confident, she knows what she wants, and she grabs it by the jugular. I can even name two of her onscreen performances which really moved me. Believe me when I say that I am seldom impressed by a local actor. She was able to do it twice.
It’s not like she hasn’t displayed that sensual cool before. The scandal she was involved in would have caused the average person to want to explain herself, like it did the other woman who was involved in it. But she, she just kept silent the whole time. Anyone who may have branded her a dirty slut would certainly be impressed by her reaction (or lack thereof) to what was supposed to be the most catastrophic event of her life. That quiet, confident woman is the one everyone has gotten to know.
However, whenever I’m alone with her, she’s this giddy school girl who seems unsure of what to do. She admits that I intimidate her and she asks me not to look at her while we’re recording, a habit that I’m wont to do and can’t help doing.
Before takes, she has these anxious moments where she shakes both her hands to limber up and she lets out this droning voice as if to convince herself that she’s a good singer. Her voice isn’t half bad, mind you. And she’s gotten better over the length of time we’ve been recording. Still, that anxiousness within her has remained.
Every time we record, I see an endearing puerility that gets under my skin. And it gets there each and every time. Yesterday, it got deeper than it ever has. Perhaps it was because there were only two of us that we were forced to let all our guards way down, just like being the last people on earth. You have to relate. How else would you survive?
I’m not saying that I didn’t like what was happening. I’m just uncomfortable with conversations. And when you’re alone with a person, you can’t help but ask prying questions about her, which is something I’m definitely not wont to do
But surprisingly, talking with her got easier by the minute. We talked about food, life, music, movies, music, and Justin Bieber. And Music. And Grayson Chance.
On the way home, she asked me, “Were you always this thin?” I told her yes, and that I thought eating was such a chore. I told her how I thought it was the most unproductive thing I do and if I could do without it, I won’t do it. She told me, “Weird ka talaga.” She then asked if I wanted to eat because she was treating me to a McDonald’s drive thru. I told her I’ll just have fries and a Coke. She asked if I wanted a Float. I told her no, and that combining ice cream with soda didn’t make sense to me. Again she remarked, “Weird ka talaga.”
Somehow, at day’s end, that was the farthest from what I really felt.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
The Great Author
The entire vast universe is but a mere thought of God.
How so, you may ask. Well, let me ask you this in turn, does Harry Potter exist?
How so, you may ask. Well, let me ask you this in turn, does Harry Potter exist?
My answer would be yes. Albeit the fact that he is very much intangible, in our minds, he does exist. We know what he looks like. We know how he behaves. This is because he has been instilled in our minds by the books and movies about him we've digested. His author created him, gave him a face, a mind, body and heart, and ultimately, a universe to live in.
I think the same holds true for us.
I think we are here now in this world, in this universe, in this existence, because an author created us.
He dictated how we would look like, how we will behave, how we live our lives. All of us are merely characters in this story that this author is writing.
Consider this: if I were holding a glass high up in the air, it will stay there until I stop holding it. The only way that it will fall to the ground is if I let it go, or I suddenly cease to exist.
That is why I know that there is a God: because we continue to live, and the only possible way that this story will end if He stops writing it.
To the Great Author, thank you for writing my story. I'm currently loving what I'm reading about me. Here's hoping you don't run out of ink anytime soon, and that you finish my story well.
I think the same holds true for us.
I think we are here now in this world, in this universe, in this existence, because an author created us.
He dictated how we would look like, how we will behave, how we live our lives. All of us are merely characters in this story that this author is writing.
Consider this: if I were holding a glass high up in the air, it will stay there until I stop holding it. The only way that it will fall to the ground is if I let it go, or I suddenly cease to exist.
That is why I know that there is a God: because we continue to live, and the only possible way that this story will end if He stops writing it.
To the Great Author, thank you for writing my story. I'm currently loving what I'm reading about me. Here's hoping you don't run out of ink anytime soon, and that you finish my story well.
Because I really hate bad endings.
Friday, March 16, 2012
If Porn Was So Bad...
... then why do they keep saying, "OH MY GOD!"?
... why are there so many nuns?
... and why do they kneel all the time?
Monday, February 6, 2012
Swirl and Drown
Once in a while you come across a girl whom you make an instant connection with. It's such a lovely feeling. It's literally baring your soul to someone and having a mutual appreciation for each other. The way you don't have to think of the words you're gonna say next... the way you let your guard all the way down... is nothing short of an exhilerating miracle. The words, the experience, the person you're with; everything just seems right and perfect. Maybe it's just the alcohol talking, but what the hell. Soon, the wordplay turns physical, and the warmth of her skin just sends your thoughts churning. Then again, maybe it's just the alcohol.
The words and the touch begin to send you into a delirious and feverish maelstrom of emotions, and you start to question yourself: "Is this real?", as your head spins into nothingness, and then you surrender yourself. You begin to feel every facet of her skin. Touching it. Caressing it. Suddenly you come across a pair of slash marks on her wrist. You pause for a moment. And in that moment, curiosity takes over.
"Hey, how did this happen?" you ask her, unaware of your mocking tone. Wrong move, idiot.
All of a sudden she starts to move away, and that's the end of it, leaving you with only one question to ponder by your lonesome.
"Where the hell is my goddamn beer?!"
The words and the touch begin to send you into a delirious and feverish maelstrom of emotions, and you start to question yourself: "Is this real?", as your head spins into nothingness, and then you surrender yourself. You begin to feel every facet of her skin. Touching it. Caressing it. Suddenly you come across a pair of slash marks on her wrist. You pause for a moment. And in that moment, curiosity takes over.
"Hey, how did this happen?" you ask her, unaware of your mocking tone. Wrong move, idiot.
All of a sudden she starts to move away, and that's the end of it, leaving you with only one question to ponder by your lonesome.
"Where the hell is my goddamn beer?!"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
