CEBUANO KO BAI !

(This article was forwarded to me in my e-mail ad)
Author Unknown

I am not a Filipino, never considered myself one a
long time ago. I am a Cebuano and my late father once
said: "There's a whale of a difference between the
two". And that distinction between the Cebuano and
Filipino is never more pronounced than the result of
the 2001 Senatorial Elections. The election results
nationwide from Manila to Mindanao showed an even
trend, far below the expectations of the anti-Erap
advocates. Can you believe that? After we've been
screwed in the ass by a pea-brained Tagawg! But the
Cebuanos voted differently. We Cebuanos voted with the
same clear sightedness and maturity that scared the
shit out of Marcos and his KBL lap dogs who despite
massive cheating and terrorism in collusion with his
Ilocano Generals were defeated by the Pusyon Bisaya
during the Parliamentary Elections in the seventies.
We Cebuanos have a better sense of truth and justice
and we have always been the vanguards against tyranny
and oppression since 1521 when Chief Lapu-lapu whacked

Magellan.

Cebu City was the first established capital of the
islands until the seat of the Spanish colonial
government was moved to Manila in the early eighteenth
century. Why? Can you imagine if Malacanang Palace
were in Cebu City in September 21, 1972? Marcos would
have been barbecued in Pasil in less than 24 hours.
That's the same reason why Legaspi changed his mind
and moved the capital to Manila and not because Cebu
was no longer a commercially viable port during the
galleon trade with Acapulco. Legaspi was simply
traumatized by Magellan's defeat in Mactan and was

clearly intimidated by the Cebuanos.

In Col. Manuel Segura's book "Tabunan: The Exploits of
Cebu Guerillas", the dauntless yet under armed
Cebuanos inflicted the highest number of enemy forces
killed per guerilla fighter in the Philippines. The
indomitable spirit and determination of the Cebuano
fighters to arm themselves against the superior
Japanese Forces became the progenitor of the now
burgeoning gun (paltik) industry in the province. One
of the most famous guerilla fighter that later became
a successful arms manufacturer was Simeon Cortes who
once fabricated mortars out of sewer pipes.

The imminent invasion of Australia was thwarted when
Japanese General Koga who was carrying the classified
blueprint of the of the military plan to invade
Australia was captured by Cebuano guerillas off the
coast of Minglanilla. Yet this brave tales remain a
footnote in military history. Why, because history is
written by the Tagawgs of the North. We once had a
Cebuano President the late Don Sergio Osmena, Sr. who
never got re-elected for being too honest to tell the
Filipinos that he cannot promise them a better life in
a country reeling from the destruction of war. He
never licked the butt of the "Liberator kuno", the
legendary mama's boy General Douglas MacArthur. He was
a great President in the wrong country!

Do you know that the Cebuanos produced more world
boxing champions than any other ethnic group in the
Philippines? Let me refresh your memories.

One of the all time great in the Junior Lightweight
division was the legendary Gabriel "Flash" Elorde. The
string of World Champions that followed were Bernabe
Villacampo, Frank Cedeno, Dodie Boy Penalosa, Jerry
Penalosa and Joma Gamboa. The Cebuanos also produced
the best singers and musicians in this archipelago. We
are all familiar with names like Pilita Corrales,
Amapola Cabase, Dulce, Eva Santos, Vernie Varga,
Manilyn Reynes, Vina Morales, Chad Borja, Ray-an
Fuentes, Stax Hugete, Ingrid Sala Santamaria - the
list is almost endless. This is a testament to the
artistry and creativity and the passion to excel that
is deeply ingrained in the genetic code of every
Cebuano.

We are a unique people Blessed by the Sto. Nino. We
have lesser typhoons, criminality, traffic jams and
virtually no earthquakes. Our artisans are
world-class- we have the best furniture makers, the
best gun makers, the best guitar makers, and the best
delicacies,etc.,etc.

We deserve nothing less than the best in governance
and to be able to run the affairs of the state and
economy by ourselves without relying or being
exploited by the hopelessly corrupt Manila government.
Our children don't have to suffer the torturous Tagawg
lessons in school because our own language is more
eloquent and superior. Is there a Tagawg word for
husband? Or who can better pronounce the words
Beatles, popsicle, tricycle, uncle? Cebuanos or
Tagawgs? Baaah!! Yet they make a mockery out of our
accent and they think all Cebuana girls are maids.

Since the choice of our national leaders will always
be superseded by the choice of ignorant Filipinos, the
time is ripe for the Cebuanos to rise and demand
self-determination. Mga Moros ra diay maka-hibaw? No
doubt we can do better than what Hong Kong and
Singapore have accomplished as an independent State.
Let the rest of the country be run like hell by the
Ilocanos, the Pampangos, Pangasinense and Tagawgs.
Give Mindanao to the Moros, they deserve it! Kamong
nang botar ni Loi, Ping, Honasan, Angara inyo na ang
Pilipinas. Leave Cebu to the Cebuanos. So, who's with
me in this crusade? Sugdan na nato mga igsoon! Voice
out your anger! Cebuano Pride is Burning! So please
don't call me Filipino in the same manner that the
Catalans, the Andalucians, the Malaguenas and the
Basques don't want to be called Spaniards! "We are
what we repeatedly do; excellence then is not an act,
but a habit". ARISTOTLE

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,
but by the moments that take our breath away. George
Carlin

Aimee and the Boom -Town Rats

by: Alan K. Caña

We call them the Boom-Town Rats because they're led by Aimee , a small 19 year old girl who stands less than 5 feet tall. A friend of mine once called her his cute little stuffed toy and another one called her his beautiful and sexy pygmy.

She's got a lovely face with skin so soft like a child's. She smells like a child too. She uses baby cologne and baby powder to smell fresh. She wears her hair long reaching as low as her buttocks. She wears the shortest of shorts.

Everyone agrees that she's a sexy little rat. A rat who makes a living from the goodies of the drunken men seeking pleasure from the night.

She was the first girl I met in that place. There were no other customers when I came because I was there early.She sat beside me and said she won't be ordering anything, just wanted to talk. I told her I don't have much money, she smiled and said, "It doesn't matter". We talked.

She told me about her Grandpa and how he gets mad at her for screwing around. She told me about her attempted suicide at sixteen. She told me many things, sad stories and amusing tales. I listened as she babbled on - entertained! Then she asked me to sing. I gave her five pesos and a song title, I sang Sandra by Barry Manilow and she sang a Tagalog song.

Then new customers came pouring in. I was a little drunk, so I told her to go and find someone she might spend the night with. She said she's waiting for her sugar daddy.When her "daddy" came,she kissed me lightly on the cheek and asked for my name and I told her. She thanked me and walked towards him.

As I am writing this, I cant help feeling awkwardly amused of myself. The story Im telling seems like something cut right out from a Tagalog movie, with me as the main character. So unoriginal, but nevertheless true!

Anyway, that short encounter became the starting point of a friendship. A friendship that has led me to meet more girls like her and the people who frequent the place, and the proprietor who owns it.

I became an insider. their friend and confidante. I was a participant-observer and I learned many things - lots of them!

When I came back a few days later, Aimee introduced me to three of her friends, Jesselyn, Juliet and Myrna. All of them wore sexy shorts and tightly fitted Tees. Jesselyn has a mole near her nose at the left side of her cheek. She's a little taller than the rest. She told me she's married and has a three year old child. She's twenty one.

Juliet was about five feet and 2 inches tall,with long hair. She has this habit of nitpicking her hair. A friend said that he'll never go out with this girl cause she seem to be infested with lice. This girl sings well with a husky voice. Her sugar daddy is a policeman from the nearby city in the south. She's twenty. And she's the niece of a very good friend of mine who happens to be a nun.

Myrna was different. She's fair-skinned and looked very ordinary. But when she sits beside a guy one easily sense that shes got this appeal. Perhaps shes got a high pheromone level in her because she attracts many admirers. She's nineteen and three months pregnant.

Are they prostitutes?..I don't really know, I did not care to ask any of them. But this is what they do: They enter a videoke bar and befriends customers and if they "table" them, they ask for lady's drinks", they ask for money to pay to sing in the videoke, and if the going gets good they received tips from their friends who as time goes by will become their sugar daddies.

If they find out that there are no moneyed customers in this hang-out, they send for their friend the habal-habal (motorcycle) driver to take them to the city of Naga or to some other bar. But they usually come back at Twelve midnight at their regular hang-out, here in Minglanilla.

Yes, here in the usually quite place of our hometown.

Right in the middle of Boom-Town Minglanilla - where Aimee and the Boom-Town Rats roam!

My Videoke Bar Experience Ends Today

by: Alan K. Caña

I just finished emptying my Cell phone's Phone book of unwanted numbers .Numbers of people who I don't want to exchange text messages anymore.
Cell numbers of people I met inside the Videoke Bar

It has been an exciting two months or so - my Videoke Bar experience.and I learned a lot from what I saw and from the people I talked with.

There were the girls. Yes, lots of them! The regular customers who were mostly people that I know, the proprietor, the walk-ins and almost everyone I met have their own stories to tell.

But no, they did not come to tell stories, but to enjoy themselves.

But somehow, in between the rounds of drinks and songs, the huggings and kissings, and the laughter, glimpses of their private lives surfaced in forms of drunken talk. Of course the seriousness always comes in behind the facade of playful bantering.

As I emptied my phone of their numbers, I felt a sadness within. But somehow, the experience should end while the stories begin.

I'll write of them, perhaps all of them, for their unique lives have touch mine.I'll write about them because this is the only thing I can do. I can not take them out of the rut they are in. I can not even show them the way for when I was with them, I felt as lost as they.

Tomorrow.Ill start writing about Aimee (not her real name), the star of the place.

But tonight I'll stay home, resisting the urge to go out and have fun.

Work begins tonight.