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From Angelique Villaraza:
I used to be engaged to an Ape. His over sized head is almost as huge as his Hypocrisy. He calls the Philippines ... 'Monkey land' due to the idiocy of his construction staff and various half-brained locals. For him, they look like monkeys and act like monkeys.
Maybe he forgot to look at himself in the mirror. Large deformed teeth, tufts of hair shooting out of his shoulders ... I can't think of anything more gorilla-like. Don't judge a book by it's cover though. His distended belly is brilliantly created by copious amounts of gourmet cuisine.
Being pretentious, The Ape would proudly order his signature drink ... a dirty martini, in an attempt to look cool. Then he would actually Drink the martini and turn a deep shade of beet red from alcohol allergy. Thus looking very Uncool.
One day, The Ape invited me to view his company's model unit in SM Mega mall (possibly the world's most crowded mall). In good humor, I said that I would need a Pope Mobile to get through the sea of humanity in Mega mall. He replied, 'You act as if your shit doesn't stink'. Coming from him, this is a double dose of Hypocrisy and Verbal Abuse.
The Ape bought a shiny red Ducati Monster named Lolita. How anyone (or anything) can drive a high speed motorcycle through Manila traffic is beyond my imagination. Worse, he wears a fully padded helmet reminiscent of an astronaut, plus a fully padded jacket and metal padded trousers ... all in the extreme burning heat of the Tropics. Accosted by this atrocious vision, I was tempted to ask him ... 'Want a gourmet banana?'.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Chut is very lucky.
To have money.
So lucky.
FUCK, is he lucky.
Because let's face it.
Status and wealth are the only 'cheekbones' you need to fit in with the Gucci's.
It became apparent to me quickly, this fact.
You don't have to actually be a beautiful person to be a member.
You can actually be a hideous person, and get a membership card.
Look at Chut.
Look at Tina.
Look at DJ.
Look at the Yap. (Teeth dear, TEETH!), fix your fucking teeth. DJ too!!!!!
Marco?
Jackie?
Ana?
Ricky D???????
Wendy?
..... and the rest.
Ok, Wendy is pretty. I will give her that.
But she is also VERY spoiled and selfish. Inconsiderate. Ruthless.
Hungry.
Which makes her ugly as well.
Model?
Really?
Complete bitch is more like it.
The truth is.
All you need to be in the GG is a big dose of bullshit and bravado.
Not beauty.
Its all a game of poker.
Chance.
Luck.
The stakes are 'high' all right.
You have to work the cards that are dealt to you.
Bluffing here.
Bluffing there.
Bluff enough and the masses will fall into line.
They fold.
Enough glossy shots and they will believe too.
They lose everything and you get all the chips.
Fall into line behind 'make believe' resumes.
If you believe, they will believe.
I think Tina thinks she is actually thin.
I think she forgets she's so enormous because she is surrounded by 'bullshit'.
People latch on to free Willy's tit and never let go.
They see her as a ride to somewhere.
Suckling her milk jugs all the way to Nami.
I hardly think Tina Tinio is a career maker.
She only cares about her own.
They all laugh behind your back Tinio.
DJ, Celine, Tim and the rest.
You all need to wake up
I think Tim should read some of his article, then say sorry for them.
I think Jackie brought this on herself.
You did Jacks.
And Ana for goodness sakes.
THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH LICKING VA JAY JAY.
Hiding your true self makes you look ugly. Afraid and ugly.
Why does everyone whisper and peep about your sexuality.
Big deal your a dyke.
Pussy is ok love.
Just mind the pubes in the teeth.
NASTY.
You must also have a passion for cocaine to be in the GG.
Every member of the GG does drugs.
NO QUESTION.
Big passion.
I have seen people 'dash ' across Chuts condo towards the snort room.
Celine trembles when it arrives.
I saw it with my own eye's.
She is possessed by cocaine.
Everyone sits around staring into space.
Huge amounts of cocaine being delivered to the front door.
Drunk on Veuve. Smashed from drugs.
I watched in amazement.
Its all so fucking boring.
I begged DJ to come home with me.
But once he has a line of coke, he can't stop until it's all gone.
But its the one thing they all have in common.
Cocaine and fear.
And they all go to Chut's house to partake.
They like Chut because he has nice things.
They like Chut because he is successful.
A fridge FULL of french champagne.
He likes art.
Food.
Drink.
The ladies.
Some people think Chut is gay.
I don't.
But Marco is.
UHG!
Everyone must have art.
Lots of art.
Art coming out of your ass.
Your big fat hairy baboon like ass.
Art art art.
Visual pretentiousness.
Patrick is the only one with 'real' art.
I was blown away by his pieces.
Floored by his choices.
Amazed at how much he knew about everything.
But humble about it.
Mind you, he could hardly stand up right poor dear.
It was like a gallery, his place. He could charge people to view his art.
Not that Patrick needs any money.
That cat is really rich.
Filthy rich.
And sad.
Very sad.
But Patrick is not in the GG.
He confirmed that himself.
By writing to this blog.
They treat him like shit.
The GG.
Always have.
Always will.
Patrick just needs a REAL FUCKING FRIEND for once in his life.
You all use him and abuse him. I saw it first hand.
Leave him alone and he will get his shit together.
There is hope for Patrick.
DJ told me Patrick would just kill himself one day.
Intentionally or not.
DJ seemed to be ok with that.
Just accepted the possibility.
Mate, if you had no money, DJ would not give one fucking shit about you.
None of them would 'care'.
I was going to publish a post about Patrick earlier on this blog.
I'm not saying it was all going to be positive.It was not.
But it had more to do with what the GG says about him behind his back.
They will drink his booze.
Snort his drugs.
Swallow his pills.
Eat his lavish $$$$$$$$$$ food at his dinner parties.
But slam him in private.
They are SOOOOOOOOO jealous of Patrick's money.
Especially Delfin.
Everyone swarms around Chut's condo.
After party is always at his place.
Shoes are kicked off.
Eye lashes removed.
Dresses are shed and track pants take their place.
The cocaine gets delivered to the door.
Celine does the ten yard dash to fetch it.
Money is collected.
Ten baggies bought.
Let the party begin.
At one point DJ asked me if I wanted to go home.
I said now please.
He told me to go.
He would NEVER leave cocaine.
A million lines are snorted.
A million minutes wasted.
Chut, close your condo doors.
Walk away from these losers.
Or are you a loser too.
Your ex fiance seems to think so.
