07 March 2008

Oh ....... Wendy ,Celine, Wendy, Celine.

I know what DJ is now and I know what you and Celine are too. Enablers. Twisted nothings.

Oh Wendy, you upset me so much on
Boracay. The most self centered girl I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.
With DJ, your little show dog, nipping at your well turned out feet. And your 'guru'.
OMG. Higher maintenance then you.
I lost all respect for you that night Wendy. Keeping people waiting for hours. People who went out of their way to
accommodate you and your 'friend'. Your excuse was truly pathetic. YOGA? At ten thirty at night. What kind of yoga is that dear? Tantric Yoga!

You truly are a mean spirited, money grubbing, self centered Mannequin. From
Glorietta Mall. Not Greenbelt love. Glorietta.
My favorite hang out. Go Bench!

I have never met a girl like Wendy before. Not really a woman. More like a liability with breasts. She got the whole she-bang thing wrong. Now her reputation is sullied both here and abroad.
Hong Kong won't have her. They are funny about infidelity there. DJ explained it all to me. I was mesmerized by the whole sordid ordeal Wendy. You only have so many passports to run through dear. Stop burning those bridges.

You have always left a path of chaos and destruction behind you. You all do. Its in your blood. Why do people hate you so much Wendy? Are we all jealous of you dear. Do I want to be you or Celine. Nope. Not you two. Not in a million years. But you both prop DJ up, even through you know what he is like. Why would you insist on remaining friends with him, even AFTER you were made aware that he split with my savings? You just don't care. Either of you.

Everyone was jealous of DJ. He told me. JR was jealous. Robbie was Jealous. Jealous, jealous, jealous. Even Tim Yap was apparently jealous. Poor Tim. More about him later. Everyone wants to be DJ and Celine and Wendy. Well its what they think anyways.

When really, your lives are like a Jerry Springer episode. Old style Jerry. Like Celine's life. Little 'work' and plenty of drugs. Sniff sniff. I have never seen so much coke go up one persons nose. Coke in the morning, coke in the afternoon, coke at dinner time. Both of them. I begged DJ to be honest with me. But it was a losing battle. Small town boy didn't stand a chance against the 'city boy' DJ.
We call Celine Hoover on
Boracay, because we know how much she buys when she is there. Usually about ten bags. And DJ buys tons and charges people for each line. Cheap cheap cheap. Ka-cheapen!

Now that girl is a Anna Nicole waiting in the wings. The only
difference is Anna Nicole had some talent. I'm sure the girl will choke on her vomit one day. And everyone will be like, boo hoo. Poor Celine, she was so pretty and fabulous. Her hair was so nice. Can I have her clothes? Her shoes? Her bathroom jammed full with free shit that this girl does NOT need. You could moisturize a small countries population with the shu shumura in her comfort room. Great legacy Celine. Good work love!Have you EVER done anything for charity dear...? Where you weren't strung out on cocaine? Tragic.

You Celine write about clothes and shoes and lipstick and well, yourself pretty much. The most boring fucking topics one could waste there time on are the things that make you shine. Shallow vain mean bitch. Grow up and do some charity work. Give back you lucky do nothings. And stop making it up as you go. Your contribution to the rag you work for is a joke. My cat could scratch out better.Your charity work? HA! Any? Selfish Celine.
And DJ, you just can't write at all dear. Socks and shoes and this and that. Wow, you should be so proud.

Sweethearts, none of you three have any real class or distinct style. Few people in Manila have real class and even fewer have real style. You've all heard it before. You are born to style. you do not buy it. Or given it like this cluster of space wasters.
The paper only keeps them on staff because they get paid nothing but a
free bee here, a GC there. I would die.

And the majority of your dresses are truly hideous. In New York, they would bend over in stitches. Being
shiney and reflective does not make you stylish girls. I just want to put my ciggies out on your lower backs.

Shoes and belts Celine? Make up and hair bands?
Riveting stuff, mini Imelda. Get a real job for a company your family doesn't own. Nepotism stinks. Like the entrance to your apartment. Can't you fix that dear. Phew!

You need to be hit up side the head with a knee high boot. You are
thw WORST dresser in Manila. What your crying out for dear is a figure. Clothes look better on when you have one. You have the body of a boy.Wake up you void. Your friend is a thief and you gave him permission to keep my hard earned money. Right dear?

Your world is shrinking like your prospects for
legitimate work.
Shrinking, like your bank balance when your family comes to terms with your addiction to coke and will hopefully trim it. After all, your parents are really the ones killing you slowly. They must know you are a
junky. A common coke fiend. Like a blood hound at the hunt.

Your families must be ashamed. How can they stand by and watch you slowly kill yourself on drugs Celine? But then again, your parents buy your drugs. Or DJ with my money. Wendy. Get a job that doesn't include the word blow.
Drugs and bad fashion. All three of you should be charged for fashion crimes. Clean out your wardrobes dear. At least once a year.

I have never been in your presence with out you having a nose full of blow Celine. You thought you were hiding it from me. You all took me for a fool. A hick from Australia.
Are you so unhappy dear Celine? You need treatment dear. Over seas. Try again. This time, keep the coke out of your
clacker. They check there before orientation.
And bring a family member this time.
Or do they hate you too dear.
And you Wendy, are you still running over people with your eye lashes and shimmer? You only have a few more years left dear. As Tim
Gunn says, make it work!
You are all really from another world. Another planet. Planet Wendy and planet Celine in the Galaxy of Swag. With their
caustic, ill tempered surface, full of crevices and cracks. Like your skin will be soon. So hook up quick loves. Your not getting any cheaper. Or younger.

You and DJ and Celine deserve each other. A perfect
tri-fecta of irrelevancy.
Just senseless lumps of molecules, disrupting the lives of others, when you should mind your own business. And cross your legs. Marriage means something dear. Are you not a Catholic?

Prettiness gets you far in the Philippines. It gets you far all over the world. Pretty girls are lucky. Real lucky. Your both REAL lucky indeed. Well, Wendy more then Celine really. The nose could be fixed I suppose.
Like Wendy and Celine, every girl has to go through challenges in life. The parents of these two though, should hang their heads in collective shame. They failed big time. The lot of them. A truly messed up family. Second tier. Second rate.
But eventually, you have to be honest with yourself. Because prettiness comes from within. Like real beauty which neither of you

Like I told Celine before. You reap what you sow. And I'm afraid its harvest time ladies.

Do you think Wendy, that you have some sort of 'get away with anything free card?'

Life is not a board game sweets. People are not 'lead painted play pieces' for your amusement.
Bored bitches.

You can't run around in your gowns and make up, caring only for yourself. Or can you?

You are both selfish and crude. There is nothing truly feminine about either of you.
You have no class.

Applying full make up in the morning on
Boracay says a lot about you. On the prowl like DJ. Always looking over your shoulder for someone else. Rude prick.
Insecure. Ugly under the paint. DJ wears so much powder. Another shield. You will never conceal your life's work of deceit DJ. The lines run far too deep. Your eye bags are always packed.

DJ is no friend of yours dear Wendy. Do you have any 'real' friends that don't gossip behind your back? Your separation was mere fodder for them. Just giggle talk. Told me you cheated and blah blah blah. he did go on.

ok that you cheated on your husband.
Some people just can't help themselves. Your ex was cute though. Just could not afford you anymore I think.
And DJ told me he had a small one. How does DJ know that? DJ knows a lot about his bitches men.

Was your ex husband not buying you enough jewels for you dear. Stopped going near your Va jay jay. In laws refused to part with the silver. Smart people. Their shark net worked I guess. Or was he cheating too. Your all the same.
Friends in
Hong Kong gave me the real scoop. A friend of DJ's actually. Watch out for the Deej. He is danderous.

Was he a bit stingy with the
His family hates your guts.
I get it.
But you deserve it dear.
Because you are just another carbuncle on Manila's ballast tanks.
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