Ladies and gentlemen, I have made a list. It’s different from any other list I’ve made, because this list I will not give to the hitman I keep on retainer. No, I have checked this list twice — with SpellCheck — and am titling it, “My Christmas List (do not give to hitman on retainer)”.
I owe this column to a lot of people— these are the people we have either laughed at or verbally fellated this year. Without them, I, frankly, wouldn’t have much to write about. I’d have to resort to, say, copy-pasting off The Cool Hunter — which will probably get me fired from this paper. But that’s a different story.
Anyway. I’m spreading the Christmas cheer by giving the following people a... fruitcake... each. Since gift-giving is never complete in Philippine mass-media without the grand photo-op and press release, I have decided to tell you, dear readers, just who I’m giving fruitcakes to.
My Christmas List (Do Not Give To Hitman On Retainer)
Paris Hilton. Last year, I gave Ate Paris an e-card for showing me her hairless heiress vagina. This year, I’m giving her a fruitcake for managing to get arrested, jailed, and giving the world a priceless picture of her crying at the back of a copcar — sad. She shares this cake, of course, with the African baby she plans to adopt.
Al Gore. This year was a good year for Al Gore — he won an Oscar and the slightly-less-exciting Nobel Peace Prize. People now want him to run for President of America again; their chant: “Gimme, gimme Gore! Gimme Gore! Gimme Gore!” His response: video of an animated polar bear who’s just about to drown when he gets sucked into a propeller of a whaling ship and dies. That’s gore.
Antonio Trillanes. I’m giving this guy a fruitcake for Christmas because the Army probably isn’t feeding him anymore. He’s been a bad doggie, yes. He does deserve, though, a special gift for pointing out anomalies in our system. I was going to give him a free three-day stay at the Sofitel Philippine Plaza — but who am I kidding; he’s never stayed at a hotel for more than a day.
Keeping Up With The Jonas
Edu Manzano. I like Edu Manzano. I’ve liked him ever since he played the resurrected brain of Dugo ng Panday’s evil Lizardo opposite Bong Revilla. Nearly 15 years on and we know who came out on top of that silverscreen sh**fest — Revilla is now a senator; Manzano makes a living on TV dancing what’s called The Papaya. The reason I’m giving him a fruitcake this year is simple — okay, he does a lousy job at the Optical Media Board — but taking over a pregnant Kris Aquino’s job and edging her out, permanently hosting Game Ka Na Ba — that is something we all owe him for.
Mariel Rodriguez. Mariel is a nice girl. She went from being the cheapest chick on MTV to being the “poshest” girl on ABS-CBN (next to Ruffa Guttierez — and Piolo Pascual) — and that is a feat not everyone can do. So she’s now Kuya’s live-in partner or something; she’s smart. She sleeps around... the Big Brother House. Her career will skyrocket after this; just like Rustom Padilla’s did. I’m giving her, and the rest of the housemates, a fruitcake — to replace Victor Basa.
Jonas Burgos. Jonas is, of course, one of the many people allegedly abducted by the Philippine army. And by allegedly, I mean, the United Nations says so. Now, Jonas was taken by men who identified themselves as policemen early this year. His words before he was shoved into a maroon van (later identified as one of the Armed Forces’): “Leave Britney aloooone!” Now, fruitcakes last up to 25 years if you store them properly — and you know where this is going; go to http://freejonasburgosmovement.blogspot.com.
Vanessa Anne Hudgens. See “Paris Hilton,” “last year,” and “vagina.”
Tarrantado
Quentin Tarrantino. Tito Quentin burst into Baranggay Manila this year for Tikoy Aguiluz’s Cinemanila International Film Festival, proving only what Keith Martin, Stephen Speaks, David Pomeranz, and G Toengi have proved before — that you can be anyone in Hollywood and still be A++ in the Philippines. Yes, it’s been a bad year for Tarrantino; Grindhouse was a big-time box office dud, and so was his Hostel: Part II. I’m sending him a fruitcake — plus DVDs of every Joel Lamangan film ever made — because I want to see an obscure Hollywood version of Zsa Zsa Zaturnnah chopped up like Christmas foodstuff.
Facebook. This spot would’ve belonged to the iPhone, except it doesn’t come with a warranty yet. And I don’t have one. And iPhones don’t have mouths with which they may eat fruitcakes. So, I am instead giving one to Facebook. They opened their doors to the non-US based masses late last year, but it is only this year that Facebook landed on our cybersphere, enabling Filipinos to connect with each other — to show how inebriated they are, rate themselves, and bite each other like vampires. Ah, the world is a better place.
YOU. Okay, so you got Time Magazine’s Person of the Year mention last year but, I tell you, they gave that title to Vladimir Putin this year — and to George Walker Bush twice; Time Magazine — means squat. Supreme — means a little more than squat. We at Supreme came to the Star family because you’re here — you are part of the biggest market share for Philippine broadsheets; you’ve shaped what we write, how we write, and will continue to do so because you are our masters.
For this, I give you all one fruitcake. Of course, you get a microscopic piece. But that is not the point. The point is... thank you. We haven’t even been here a year and we already feel your love!
Next year will be kick-ass. We have loads lined up, and we promise to keep bringing it, giving you, giving you moar.
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