A picture can paint a thousand words. And more.

This reminds me of the children near Colon Street in Cebu City who were happily swimming in a river created by the drainage near the area. The foul smell did not deter them from being happy. But the outcome of what they were doing could be fatal. No parents were there to tell them the hazards.

Photo source: Here

My servant Noynoy Aquino bought a Porsche with his own money

Yes, he zealously declared almost a year ago Kayo ang amo ko (You, the Filipinos, are my boss), a metaphor that remains only in words but not in deed. And yes, he just bought a white Porsche using his own money. Duh!

I don't know if this is the type of Porsche Aquino bought lately. I have not seen one.

I swallowed hard. While the bosses remained wallowing in poverty, that is more than 12 million of us according to the National Statistical Coordination Board, the servant flaunt his toys. And I wonder how and where my servant would use it.

Here?

Blog links for more reading-
P-Noy still acting like President Cory's son
PNoy's Porsche and the "Daang Matuwid"

Riles pic from Flickr

Another confirmation that GMA and cohorts are GLUTTONS...

...despite hunger here in her country. Di naman sila mga patay-gutom dito sa Pinas katulad ko at nang marami pang iba. What would Cerge Remonde say this time?

Quoted in full from 

Reliable Source of The Washington Post-

Philippine President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo's visit to the White House on July 30 didn't draw much attention, and her dinner in Washington that night got nary a mention. And that's how it might have stayed -- if not for a controversial meal in New York City.

Arroyo is under fire in her native country for a $20,000 meal at Manhattan's Le Cirque on Aug. 2, which included caviar and several bottles of champagne. The dinner, first reported in the New 

York Post, has Arroyo's critics comparing her to the extravagant Imelda Marcos.

The Reliable Source has learned that three days earlier, Arroyo and an entourage of about 65 people (including security and food tasters) had dinner at Bobby Van's Steakhouse on 15th Street NW hours after she met with President Obama. The group took over one of the restaurant's private rooms and dined on lobster, steak and fine wines; at the conclusion of the meal, an unidentified woman opened a handbag stuffed with cash, counted out bills and paid the $15,000 tab -- which included a generous tip.

The Philippine Embassy did not return calls for comment Tuesday.

Transcendental Meditation on Begging (Or Eating Alone at Chowking Early One Morning and Having Violent Thoughts While Looking at a Beggar Using Her Child as Pawn)

While I was about to eat a spoonful of corned beef omelet, a woman dragging a child knock on the glass window near me. I looked at them. She extended her arm like I was going to regurgitate my corned beef meal. My sweet Lord!

My thoughts suddenly went on memory recall just like in the movies.

I can remember pretty well that Mother used to admonish us when we ask something from our neighbors. She told us we would rather eat camote or gabi but not beg for food from other people. As long as we have both hands and feet, we can work and eat. If Mother can see these begging entities, they would be reprimanded as well.

We used to live in a shanty (defined as a small thatched hut with lots of cellophane matter in the roof to cover disintegrating nipa strips) in our hometown. When the rain pours, we ran in the corners so we would not get wet or squat at the top of a stool so the overflowing creek would not touch our feet. We were made to wake up early mornings to help plant anything that can be eaten. And could sleep soundly because we diligently water those plants in the early mornings and late afternoons. We would gather firewood in a nearby forest and bring snails to feed the pigs. I even had a share of tilling the land for rice and other staples when our neighbors needed workers, from planting to harvesting.

And I have survived.

Which made me wonder why these people shamelessly beg for anything from me, including this hard-earned corned beef? I am not rich. I can only afford to eat a full meal once a day. I work so hard to buy myself things I like. Where is the amor propio that is so Filipino in them?

Poverty? These people are not poor! The poor in my place works hard so they can eat. They toil day and night. Their skins looked like carabao skins. They smell. But they do not beg. These city people have the luxury of sitting around like something is going to happen to them of which they only knew. I know somebody who could not even walk but he sells newspaper day in and out. Now he has a motored wheelchair. But them? Ugh!

And we blame the government.

They should get lessons from priests who are the number one beggars but living luxuriously in their palaces.

Damn! Early in the morning and I am nagging!

When The Boys Don't Have Money To Spare...

...we go to Gimik KTV at Mango Square to shout our frustrations out hahahaha. Sorry I only take pictures and sing when alone.

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