Well, This Was Useless

First off, I would just like to say that I need a haircut. And a shave. I told myself I wouldn't get any real kickass grooming done until I set foot back on Manila soil, but apparently, that's not going to do wonders for the ruggedly handsome countenance I am privy to.

That, and the lack of sleep of the past few days, anyway. So I should be heading off to dreamy-dreamland in a bit.

In other news: House meets reality TV. Except it isn't reality. The writer who thought up the entire survival of the nastiest bit deserves some pretty good praise. Also, it's quite a treat to see Greg House giving out peonies. It gives you some insight as to how a good character can change without becoming insufferable; write that down kids.

That's all for today from the front. Don't let reality bite you on your way out.

Maynilad Water Chronicles: The Clusterf$%#, Part 2

This is the third post in our Maynilad Water chronicles. This time, we will talk about just how inept their record keeping skills are in the face of a massive overhaul in a given area. This involves a technique used by Meralco in high-risk areas called clustering, and is efficient – if utilized correctly. Needless to say, Maynilad has yet to be able to do this.

Maynilad Water Chronicles: The Curious Case of the Disappearing Meter

One of the biggest problems I’ve encountered these past few weeks is the inexplicable inefficiency of Maynilad Water. I don’t even know where to begin; this is how impossible the situation is. So I’ll go and separate things into multiple stories. This is the first case in this series.

The Parables of Juan Flavier

I remember my grade 4 Language professor fondly, because of many things. Firstly, because his first name—Henry—was such an oddity for a ten-year old Pinoy who mostly read American books but was surrounded with names like Jose Luis, Robertino, and other such remnants of our Spanish forefathers. Secondly because he was such a strict man who liked reading a lot. In hindsight, perhaps he wasn’t really as strict as I made him out to be. I was, quite possibly, just a child who had too much respect for authority back then, and would quail from the sight of a teacher who raised his voice even by just a bit. But the most memorable thing about Mr. Avecilla (that was his last name) was that one of his weekly projects for the class was the collection of Senator Juan Flavier’s—then DOH secretary— weekly parables. I forget which paper it was his stories appeared in, but Mr. Avecilla’s demands had us children scrambling for clippings of Senator Flavier’s stories around every Friday, I think it was....

The Fat Man Today

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