Bocaray Island’s Landmark Willy’s Rock Destroyed?

I don’t like bad news but apparently somebody destroyed the Mama Mary statue atop famous landmark Willy’s Rock at Boracay Station 1. I got the Facebook message from the group “Boracay please, not BORA“. They aim to educate/correct the use of Boracay, since many people including me address the island as “bora” because it’s cool like that. Anyway, this is serious stuff. Willy’s Rock is a famous landmark that any beach loving creature would want to visit again and again. Probably some drunk idiots did this. I hope they’d be caught and be smashed and burned too. What kind of soul do they have? I mean come on. Look at the place.

Boracay is one the most beautiful beaches in the world and many people would like to keep it that way. Sure I did destroy some sand castles when I was there but that was kinda cool. This is not. Boracay must be preserved. Hey, I’d like to have my wedding at Puka Beach someday so please.

My girlfriend and I are planning to go there later this summer. Here’s some awesome Boracay travel packages if you’re poor like me. Enjoy.

* image courtesy of dcsuave on Flickr

2010 NBA All-Stars Official Line-Up

News has leaked and I’d like share it to you. Here is the full lineup for this year’s NBA All-Star Game to be held in Dallas on hearts day February 14. Somewhere right now we know Mark Cuban is doing a backflip.

EAST
G – Dwyane Wade
G – Allen Iverson
F – LeBron James
F – Kevin Garnett
C – Dwight Howard
Bench
G – Rajon Rondo
G – Derrick Rose
G – Joe Johnson
F – Gerald Wallace
F – Chris Bosh
F – Paul Pierce
C – Al Horford

WEST
G – Kobe Bryant
G – Steve Nash
F – Carmelo Anthony
F – Tim Duncan
C – Amar’e Stoudemire
Bench
G – Brandon Roy
G – Chris Paul
G – Deron Williams
F – Dirk Nowitzki
F – Kevin Durant
F – Zach Randolph
C – Pau Gasol

The West definitely has a deeper and more talented bench in Kevin Durant, Dirk and Pau. Honestly, I don’t see Tim Duncan contributing much except for fouling Dwight Howard. And no need to worry about the West’s scoring. Melo? The man is scorching hot out of Denver yo! Steve Nash delivers about 308 assists per night and if all else fail, one man can save it all. KOBE.

Not to say that the East wouldn’t put up a good fight. LBJ and Dwayne Wade will be going highlight after highlight. Only problem is, there are many other scoring-centric players in their team. Gerald Wallace will be getting his, Crish Bosh will milk his low/high post game much to everyone’s bore and Paul Pierce will definitely not pass the ball. So good luck with team dynamics. It’s up to Rajon Rondo though, the best point guard in the East, to make things happen for his team. And my boi D-Rose! Excited to see him on his debut. Anyway, it’s the All Stars, who one knows what will happen right. As always, everyone is in for a showtime.

So my fearless forecast? It’s gonna be an awesome All-Star in Dallas. And the West wins it.

See those who didn’t make it on the team. Boohoohoo cry baby cry. Read it here.

GYM Membership: Dude, This Is ABCORE! Part 2

Behold mortals… the AbCore!

Ok that may not be the best picture of the machine right there. But it just goes to show how great the AbCore is. Even Professor X uses it! Uhm, well the guy on the seat looks kinda dead right? But who knows, underneath that taxidermied facade lies a chiseled, Conan the Barbarian abdominal muscles. Looks can be deceiving you know. He might just be playing dead. Why? I don’t know. One does not question the Professor.

Anyway. When I saw the AbCore, I had the feeling that it would be the answer to my burgeoning belly. And my doubts were laid to rest when I saw this great testimonial about the AbCore:

Great huh? Now if I could just find one concrete web content that validates this Bob Taggart’s existence, since this guy also claims he won the 2003 Pan American championship. Without proof, this Bob could just be a pot-smoking store attendant at the sporting goods section of a Walmart.

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GYM Membership: Dude, This Is ABCORE! Part 1

I forgot what day it was exactly last week, but one time at the office after lunch I swear to God I saw myself in the mirror and I looked pregnant. Like six months pregnant. My belly, from the looks of it, seemed fat and bloated. And so my immediate reaction to this was like, “LOL this is absurd!” I never get fat. My metabolism is super fast that I can eat as much as I want to and never get fat. That is true. So looking at the mirror I just shook my head and said to myself, “Oh my mischievous co-workers, somebody must have been studying sorcery and cast a beach volleyball under my shirt. Those silly rascals ahahaha. Now let me just raise my shirt up and see that it’s just a beach— HEAVENS TO MURGATROYD it’s REALLY MY BELLY!!!!

Friends, it didn’t take long for me to figure out what the horrific image is telling me. I can no longer eat the way I do. I can no longer exercise the way I do. I can no longer sit down and eat fried pork swimming in cooking oil and let fat rendezvous around my belly. Bob Dylan said it best, The Times They Are A-Changin’. Of course he was talking about social and cultural change but nevertheless same can be said about my bingeing ways. As soon as possible, the atrocity has to stop.

Which brings us to the meat of this post. Two days ago I got my ass a gym membership. And it felt as though the gods must have been watching my weight and decided to do something about it because inside this gym, I found a machine so awesome and magnificent it can only be made from the thunderbolts of Zeus at Mt. Olympus.

To Be Continued…

(my arms are a bit tired from lifting 300lbs of weight with 15 sets of 30 repetitions each, so I have to stop for now, please be patient my scrawny friends. Part 2 is coming soon)

the Lord of the RUN

Like an ancient prophecy cast in stone, I vividly remember the first time I stepped into the oval, and the revelation therein.

Something in the air felt magical. I gazed at the moonless sky. There is a monstrous storm brewing, thunder and lighting striking and soon the wrath of the heavens poured mightily to the ground. With a staff in hand a wizard on top of mountain screams into the air with arms wide open. “Thou shall not pass!” And as soon the moment hit me, I sprung into the track like a bedeviled stallion on a glorious quest to the ends of the earth! I was running like the wind unscathed of the elements conquering the fiery pits of the Ultra Sports Complex! And in this delirium that a realization occurred… I was born to run and tonight my legend will echo into eternity.

And cut. That my friends is a work of fiction. Pure and utter fiction obviously and tastelessly borrowed from JRR Tolkien re-written by yours truly. Bravo.

Ok kidding aside let me tell you the awful truth. I was just jogging that night. Jogging like a gazelle tip toeing across a calm stream on spring time. What happened was my lungs ballooned early in the first half of my first run. My lungs burst like a hot-air balloon in the midday sun so I decided to just jog it out. I play strenuous basketball regularly you know, but this simple exercise isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Kudos to Marlboro Lights for this, damn them cancer sticks. Also, I blame the Poveda girls soccer team for stripping my focus away. Their stretching in the middle of the soccer field was such a distraction! So there I was with my Ipod on prancing about and around while runners of all age and sizes overtake and pass me by. I felt like Hugh Hefner minus the Playboy bunnies. But hey, I was listening to Rob Zombie though and that’s kinda bad-ass right? No?

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