Nothing More Terrible than a Tennis Flop. On a Sunday

We helped set up the viewing party at the Rockwell Club Tent on a Sunday. I felt robbed because the event was such a terrible flop that we could have very well held the party at Muri's place. The consolation prize was that we got free beer and Haagen Dasz. The combination sounds awful but it was better than zilch. On the plus side we were given 400 pesos for our troubles. It was far from ideal, especially on a Sunday. I especially stress Sunday because I could have been somewhere else less floppy. But work is work.

. . .

I out-drank last year's beer count in the span of one week. I feel bloated and I'm hoping that the Haagen Dasz take effect soon. Don't you get those days when you take a crap so intense that your pants fit better? I'm kind of hoping for that.

A Short Visit to Flash Elorde Sports Center

I didn’t see Flash Elorde because apparently, the man is no longer with us in this life. But I did get to see his trophy room at their ancestral home in Sucat, Parañaque. It had an old rich look complete with Monet renditions and antique wood trimmings. Boxing gloves hanged from the ceiling. A faux gold bust of Elorde stands in the center surrounded by a good number of awards. I saw trophies as tall as Nati. That room is cool. I want my own trophy room someday.

. . .

Liza is Flash’s daughter-in-law and our main contact in the place. She was nice and generous and her wallet seemed bottomless. In the short tenure of our stay we witnessed Liza disbursing a sum total of 10 thousand pesos to a number of house helps. Their hacienda housed a good number of people, mostly boxers. It was like boxing camp and from what we heard, even Manny-the-effing-Pacman-Pacquiao once swept their walkways. They even had a URCC champ in the house. We actually feared for our lives, knowing that we were strangers there.

We Put the "Bad" in Badminton

We went to the Bingo Bonanza Philippine Badminton Open at the Ultra. The Philippine delegates headed by the Asuncion siblings actually had some fight in them. Or it could be that the opponent just plain sucks. Either way they were winning some heated battles.

I asked Rickett if it was possible for a shuttle cock to shoot into your mouth.

He gave me a funny look.

Apparently he didn't hear "shuttle" in my sentence.

. . .

I was thinking about someone prematurely celebrating a solid smash then receiving a mouthful of feathers when his opponent returns his shot. Now that's something you won’t see everyday.

. . .

Instead of going to the office, we would visit Flash Elorde’s Gym in Sucat tomorrow to procure some footage that we could use in our upcoming boxing documentary. Flash Elorde is one of those better champions who invested wisely after his career. But despite his popularity, I can’t imagine how a famous ex-champ would look like. Maybe he’d humor us tomorrow by acting the part.

Ash's Computer Just Got Maron-ed

I greeted Mr. Mirpuri with the warmest "Kamusta na?" that I could muster. He seemed glum but hopeful about his computer. We both wished that it be fixed soon so that he could return to his work and forget about the whole LAN mishap.

He returned at 2:30 pm lugging two giant badminton bags which looked like it could fit 10 racquets. Looks like he had a smashing good time at the Philippine Badminton Open - pun intended.

He told me matter-of-factly that Nelson, the technician, couldn't do anything about the computer. His documents were fried. I thought, "Hey. This guy's good, with his serious tone and poker face." After 5 seconds of waiting for the punchline, I finally conceded. He WAS serious, and I suddenly imagined myself being sacrificed to Kali or some Indian elephant god of wrath.

. . .

I voted Sazon in his L'Oreal stint, and I now understand why he would suddenly turn pysho with his top. Dyed hair is a social shortcut for either

1. attention
2. discounts at gay bars
3. claiming that you're Badjao
4. getting your ass kicked by the entire village people, and we're not talking YMCA homos here
   

Everything I Touch Gets Destroyed

I'm not good at taking risks. 90% of all the games I tried to install were all lemons. I'm not too crazy about the lucky 10% either. The role playing games that I really like were Neverwinter Nights and Icewind Dale II, and both came out with messages saying "Error: Cyclic redundancy check." After experiencing this for the 10th time, I decided to look it up.

WTF Windows?? Seriously WTF??

Techies call it CRCs and it has something to do with math. The important thing that I picked up from it though was that it could be caused by either

1. a loose cable in the CD drive
2. badly burnt CDs

Looking at how CD pirates are never straight shooters, I'm likely to point fingers at the latter.

The last CD I bought cost me PHP 300 and I'm not letting it off easy. I'm going to storm the store and give them a quick lesson on CRCs.

. . .

I took Ash's LAN wire in the office today like I used to. But this time something went awry. I returned the wire after lunch and as Ash retired to his seat, his PC wouldn't boot. The screen kept prompting, "Error reading disk." "Aw fuck," I thought, "There goes my OJT." I was the "last touch" and I had little going for me.

That's probably the second thing I've destroyed with my "last touch". The other thing being Non's digital camcorder. I'm keeping an eye on the office's photocopier, fax and TV just in case.