here is one of my favorite songs Fragile by Sting (such a great singer! i love him)
FRAGILE - STING
If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are
but i also like the rendition of the song by Jason Castro of American Idol.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
the last leaf - o'henry
When I was a little girl, Lenten season was filled with shows on TV depicting reruns of different versions of the passion of Christ, bible stories, sad sob stories, teledramas from tv hosts/comedians turned drama actors, and some inspiring ones, too. I would watch each one of them for lack of anything to do. This short film, an adaptation of the famous writer O'Henry's "The Last Leaf," however, caught my fancy because of the simplicity of its plot and the length of the film (children basically have a short attention span and i was not an exception.) My young mind became fascinated at the character of the old man who found his purpose in this world. He always talked about painting his masterpiece someday, and indeed he painted the most beautiful masterpiece in his lifetime. It is quite lengthy, but do read on... it is a very very good story.
"THE LAST LEAF - O' HENRY"
In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!
So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."
At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.
That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."
Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.
One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.
"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"
"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue.
"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"
"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."
"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."
After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.
Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.
She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.
As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.
Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.
"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.
Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.
"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.
"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."
"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."
"Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?"
"Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."
"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."
"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down."
"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.
"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves."
"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."
"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."
Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.
Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.
Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.
"Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."
"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."
"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."
Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.
When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.
"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.
Wearily Sue obeyed.
But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.
"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time."
"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"
But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.
The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.
When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.
The ivy leaf was still there.
Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.
"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."
And hour later she said:
"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."
The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.
"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."
The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."
And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.
"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."
"THE LAST LEAF - O' HENRY"
In a little district west of Washington Square the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account!
So, to quaint old Greenwich Village the art people soon came prowling, hunting for north windows and eighteenth-century gables and Dutch attics and low rents. Then they imported some pewter mugs and a chafing dish or two from Sixth Avenue, and became a "colony."
At the top of a squatty, three-story brick Sue and Johnsy had their studio. "Johnsy" was familiar for Joanna. One was from Maine; the other from California. They had met at the table d'hôte of an Eighth Street "Delmonico's," and found their tastes in art, chicory salad and bishop sleeves so congenial that the joint studio resulted.
That was in May. In November a cold, unseen stranger, whom the doctors called Pneumonia, stalked about the colony, touching one here and there with his icy fingers. Over on the east side this ravager strode boldly, smiting his victims by scores, but his feet trod slowly through the maze of the narrow and moss-grown "places."
Mr. Pneumonia was not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. A mite of a little woman with blood thinned by California zephyrs was hardly fair game for the red-fisted, short-breathed old duffer. But Johnsy he smote; and she lay, scarcely moving, on her painted iron bedstead, looking through the small Dutch window-panes at the blank side of the next brick house.
One morning the busy doctor invited Sue into the hallway with a shaggy, gray eyebrow.
"She has one chance in - let us say, ten," he said, as he shook down the mercury in his clinical thermometer. " And that chance is for her to want to live. This way people have of lining-u on the side of the undertaker makes the entire pharmacopoeia look silly. Your little lady has made up her mind that she's not going to get well. Has she anything on her mind?"
"She - she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day." said Sue.
"Paint? - bosh! Has she anything on her mind worth thinking twice - a man for instance?"
"A man?" said Sue, with a jew's-harp twang in her voice. "Is a man worth - but, no, doctor; there is nothing of the kind."
"Well, it is the weakness, then," said the doctor. "I will do all that science, so far as it may filter through my efforts, can accomplish. But whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines. If you will get her to ask one question about the new winter styles in cloak sleeves I will promise you a one-in-five chance for her, instead of one in ten."
After the doctor had gone Sue went into the workroom and cried a Japanese napkin to a pulp. Then she swaggered into Johnsy's room with her drawing board, whistling ragtime.
Johnsy lay, scarcely making a ripple under the bedclothes, with her face toward the window. Sue stopped whistling, thinking she was asleep.
She arranged her board and began a pen-and-ink drawing to illustrate a magazine story. Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.
As Sue was sketching a pair of elegant horseshow riding trousers and a monocle of the figure of the hero, an Idaho cowboy, she heard a low sound, several times repeated. She went quickly to the bedside.
Johnsy's eyes were open wide. She was looking out the window and counting - counting backward.
"Twelve," she said, and little later "eleven"; and then "ten," and "nine"; and then "eight" and "seven", almost together.
Sue look solicitously out of the window. What was there to count? There was only a bare, dreary yard to be seen, and the blank side of the brick house twenty feet away. An old, old ivy vine, gnarled and decayed at the roots, climbed half way up the brick wall. The cold breath of autumn had stricken its leaves from the vine until its skeleton branches clung, almost bare, to the crumbling bricks.
"What is it, dear?" asked Sue.
"Six," said Johnsy, in almost a whisper. "They're falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. But now it's easy. There goes another one. There are only five left now."
"Five what, dear? Tell your Sudie."
"Leaves. On the ivy vine. When the last one falls I must go, too. I've known that for three days. Didn't the doctor tell you?"
"Oh, I never heard of such nonsense," complained Sue, with magnificent scorn. "What have old ivy leaves to do with your getting well? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don't be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were - let's see exactly what he said - he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that's almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride on the street cars or walk past a new building. Try to take some broth now, and let Sudie go back to her drawing, so she can sell the editor man with it, and buy port wine for her sick child, and pork chops for her greedy self."
"You needn't get any more wine," said Johnsy, keeping her eyes fixed out the window. "There goes another. No, I don't want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I'll go, too."
"Johnsy, dear," said Sue, bending over her, "will you promise me to keep your eyes closed, and not look out the window until I am done working? I must hand those drawings in by to-morrow. I need the light, or I would draw the shade down."
"Couldn't you draw in the other room?" asked Johnsy, coldly.
"I'd rather be here by you," said Sue. "Beside, I don't want you to keep looking at those silly ivy leaves."
"Tell me as soon as you have finished," said Johnsy, closing her eyes, and lying white and still as fallen statue, "because I want to see the last one fall. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything, and go sailing down, down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves."
"Try to sleep," said Sue. "I must call Behrman up to be my model for the old hermit miner. I'll not be gone a minute. Don't try to move 'til I come back."
Old Behrman was a painter who lived on the ground floor beneath them. He was past sixty and had a Michael Angelo's Moses beard curling down from the head of a satyr along with the body of an imp. Behrman was a failure in art. Forty years he had wielded the brush without getting near enough to touch the hem of his Mistress's robe. He had been always about to paint a masterpiece, but had never yet begun it. For several years he had painted nothing except now and then a daub in the line of commerce or advertising. He earned a little by serving as a model to those young artists in the colony who could not pay the price of a professional. He drank gin to excess, and still talked of his coming masterpiece. For the rest he was a fierce little old man, who scoffed terribly at softness in any one, and who regarded himself as especial mastiff-in-waiting to protect the two young artists in the studio above.
Sue found Behrman smelling strongly of juniper berries in his dimly lighted den below. In one corner was a blank canvas on an easel that had been waiting there for twenty-five years to receive the first line of the masterpiece. She told him of Johnsy's fancy, and how she feared she would, indeed, light and fragile as a leaf herself, float away, when her slight hold upon the world grew weaker.
Old Behrman, with his red eyes plainly streaming, shouted his contempt and derision for such idiotic imaginings.
"Vass!" he cried. "Is dere people in de world mit der foolishness to die because leafs dey drop off from a confounded vine? I haf not heard of such a thing. No, I will not bose as a model for your fool hermit-dunderhead. Vy do you allow dot silly pusiness to come in der brain of her? Ach, dot poor leetle Miss Yohnsy."
"She is very ill and weak," said Sue, "and the fever has left her mind morbid and full of strange fancies. Very well, Mr. Behrman, if you do not care to pose for me, you needn't. But I think you are a horrid old - old flibbertigibbet."
"You are just like a woman!" yelled Behrman. "Who said I will not bose? Go on. I come mit you. For half an hour I haf peen trying to say dot I am ready to bose. Gott! dis is not any blace in which one so goot as Miss Yohnsy shall lie sick. Some day I vill baint a masterpiece, and ve shall all go away. Gott! yes."
Johnsy was sleeping when they went upstairs. Sue pulled the shade down to the window-sill, and motioned Behrman into the other room. In there they peered out the window fearfully at the ivy vine. Then they looked at each other for a moment without speaking. A persistent, cold rain was falling, mingled with snow. Behrman, in his old blue shirt, took his seat as the hermit miner on an upturned kettle for a rock.
When Sue awoke from an hour's sleep the next morning she found Johnsy with dull, wide-open eyes staring at the drawn green shade.
"Pull it up; I want to see," she ordered, in a whisper.
Wearily Sue obeyed.
But, lo! after the beating rain and fierce gusts of wind that had endured through the livelong night, there yet stood out against the brick wall one ivy leaf. It was the last one on the vine. Still dark green near its stem, with its serrated edges tinted with the yellow of dissolution and decay, it hung bravely from the branch some twenty feet above the ground.
"It is the last one," said Johnsy. "I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. It will fall to-day, and I shall die at the same time."
"Dear, dear!" said Sue, leaning her worn face down to the pillow, "think of me, if you won't think of yourself. What would I do?"
But Johnsy did not answer. The lonesomest thing in all the world is a soul when it is making ready to go on its mysterious, far journey. The fancy seemed to possess her more strongly as one by one the ties that bound her to friendship and to earth were loosed.
The day wore away, and even through the twilight they could see the lone ivy leaf clinging to its stem against the wall. And then, with the coming of the night the north wind was again loosed, while the rain still beat against the windows and pattered down from the low Dutch eaves.
When it was light enough Johnsy, the merciless, commanded that the shade be raised.
The ivy leaf was still there.
Johnsy lay for a long time looking at it. And then she called to Sue, who was stirring her chicken broth over the gas stove.
"I've been a bad girl, Sudie," said Johnsy. "Something has made that last leaf stay there to show me how wicked I was. It is a sin to want to die. You may bring a me a little broth now, and some milk with a little port in it, and - no; bring me a hand-mirror first, and then pack some pillows about me, and I will sit up and watch you cook."
And hour later she said:
"Sudie, some day I hope to paint the Bay of Naples."
The doctor came in the afternoon, and Sue had an excuse to go into the hallway as he left.
"Even chances," said the doctor, taking Sue's thin, shaking hand in his. "With good nursing you'll win." And now I must see another case I have downstairs. Behrman, his name is - some kind of an artist, I believe. Pneumonia, too. He is an old, weak man, and the attack is acute. There is no hope for him; but he goes to the hospital to-day to be made more comfortable."
The next day the doctor said to Sue: "She's out of danger. You won. Nutrition and care now - that's all."
And that afternoon Sue came to the bed where Johnsy lay, contentedly knitting a very blue and very useless woollen shoulder scarf, and put one arm around her, pillows and all.
"I have something to tell you, white mouse," she said. "Mr. Behrman died of pneumonia to-day in the hospital. He was ill only two days. The janitor found him the morning of the first day in his room downstairs helpless with pain. His shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn't imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes, and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it, and - look out the window, dear, at the last ivy leaf on the wall. Didn't you wonder why it never fluttered or moved when the wind blew? Ah, darling, it's Behrman's masterpiece - he painted it there the night that the last leaf fell."
Thursday, March 13, 2008
super misheards
KEN LEE - this is really hilarious...
Keys Me is nowhere near Ken Lee
Ken Lee is even better than my all time favorite misheard:
Nothing's gonna change my love for you... you know NAMAN MY LOVE how much I love you... (i didn't know that song is taglish.)
and then i remember receiving a text with misheard funny song lyrics. its a good thing i had it archived so here it is:
Leaving on a jet plane - so kiss me and SMAFFLE me... (so kiss me and smile for me...)
Red Hot's Californication - "Viva Californication...." (Dream of Californication...)
Cry by Mandy Moore - A walk to remember... it was late afternoon! (I'll always remember, it was late afternoon)
All My Life by KC and Jojo - supposed to be you're like my mother,supposed to be you're like my sister (close to me you're like my mother... close to me you're like my sister)
I decided long ago, never to walk in edu manzano... (I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadow)
Where's the Love - People killing, people flying, children hurt an living, crying... (People killing, people dying; children hurt and you hear them crying)
Usher & Alicia's My Boo - It started when we were younger you were NINE... (It started when we were younger you were mine) ...and you were my BEYBLADE... it started when were younger you were FINE...
Britney's Baby One More Time - My ONLY NEST is killing me... and I........
(My loneliness....)
Thumbthumping (Chumbawumba) - I get knocked down by an elephant, my mommas's gonna bring me down... (I get knocked down, but I get up again...)
If I Ain't Got You by Alicia Keys - "some people want TAMBOURINES.." (diamond rings)
Crush by Jennifer Paige - "i-splash, a little crush.." ("it's just.. a little crush..")
Waterfalls by TLC: Don't go JASON waterfalls... (Chasin')
No scrubs, TLC - "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly (fine) also known as a BUS STOP" (buster)
Unpretty, TLC - "I have sized up who, I have sized up who." (My outsides look cool. My insides are blue.)
John Mayer - You're ALICE IN WONDERLAND... You're ALICE IN WONDERLAND I'll use my hands (Body is a wonderland)
On Bended Knees by Boyz II Men: Oh God give me the reason, I'M DOWN... ABANDON ME... (I'm down on bended knee)
Red Hot's Zephyr Song: Fly away on my CELLPHONE...I feel it more than ever (Fly away on my zephyr, I feel it more than ever)
nursery rhymes:
Baa Baa Black Sheep: "Baa baa black sheep, heavy on the road..."
and OPM:
With A Smile by Eraserheads: "lift ur HAND.. baby dont be scared.. of the things that could go wrong along the way.. (HEAD!!!)
Wag Na Wag Mong Sasabihin by Kitchie Nadal: maaaaaaaaaag... , magdamag mong sasabihin........
two-trick pony by sandwich - i have been waiting for you all night under the glow of INSECENT LIGHT (...under the glow of YOUR SATELLITE)
religious song:
Soul of Christ... sat beside me... (sanctify me! Ü) and kinda scary don't u think?
Keys Me is nowhere near Ken Lee
Ken Lee is even better than my all time favorite misheard:
Nothing's gonna change my love for you... you know NAMAN MY LOVE how much I love you... (i didn't know that song is taglish.)
and then i remember receiving a text with misheard funny song lyrics. its a good thing i had it archived so here it is:
Leaving on a jet plane - so kiss me and SMAFFLE me... (so kiss me and smile for me...)
Red Hot's Californication - "Viva Californication...." (Dream of Californication...)
Cry by Mandy Moore - A walk to remember... it was late afternoon! (I'll always remember, it was late afternoon)
All My Life by KC and Jojo - supposed to be you're like my mother,supposed to be you're like my sister (close to me you're like my mother... close to me you're like my sister)
I decided long ago, never to walk in edu manzano... (I decided long ago, never to walk in anyone's shadow)
Where's the Love - People killing, people flying, children hurt an living, crying... (People killing, people dying; children hurt and you hear them crying)
Usher & Alicia's My Boo - It started when we were younger you were NINE... (It started when we were younger you were mine) ...and you were my BEYBLADE... it started when were younger you were FINE...
Britney's Baby One More Time - My ONLY NEST is killing me... and I........
(My loneliness....)
Thumbthumping (Chumbawumba) - I get knocked down by an elephant, my mommas's gonna bring me down... (I get knocked down, but I get up again...)
If I Ain't Got You by Alicia Keys - "some people want TAMBOURINES.." (diamond rings)
Crush by Jennifer Paige - "i-splash, a little crush.." ("it's just.. a little crush..")
Waterfalls by TLC: Don't go JASON waterfalls... (Chasin')
No scrubs, TLC - "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly (fine) also known as a BUS STOP" (buster)
Unpretty, TLC - "I have sized up who, I have sized up who." (My outsides look cool. My insides are blue.)
John Mayer - You're ALICE IN WONDERLAND... You're ALICE IN WONDERLAND I'll use my hands (Body is a wonderland)
On Bended Knees by Boyz II Men: Oh God give me the reason, I'M DOWN... ABANDON ME... (I'm down on bended knee)
Red Hot's Zephyr Song: Fly away on my CELLPHONE...I feel it more than ever (Fly away on my zephyr, I feel it more than ever)
nursery rhymes:
Baa Baa Black Sheep: "Baa baa black sheep, heavy on the road..."
and OPM:
With A Smile by Eraserheads: "lift ur HAND.. baby dont be scared.. of the things that could go wrong along the way.. (HEAD!!!)
Wag Na Wag Mong Sasabihin by Kitchie Nadal: maaaaaaaaaag... , magdamag mong sasabihin........
two-trick pony by sandwich - i have been waiting for you all night under the glow of INSECENT LIGHT (...under the glow of YOUR SATELLITE)
religious song:
Soul of Christ... sat beside me... (sanctify me! Ü) and kinda scary don't u think?
Monday, March 10, 2008
TV ad
There's this new tv ad that I came to watch yesterday night for the first time of a woman who visited her dead husband's grave and brought flowers and fruit salad packed in a container. For me, the tv ad was innovative because it caught my attention and left me watching until it ended. My mind raced at what ad could this possibly be. It may be a shampoo commercial as the lady's hair was soft and shiny. It could actually be anything, but then i already had an inkling that it has something to do with food because you normally do not offer food packed in a container for the dead. So I was actually intent on finding out what scene would be next. The lady then went home and walked on the streets, which by the way is the time your mind would race at what product this ad is trying to sell. She goes inside her unlit house which is kinda spooky and then finding that the container was on the table was even spookier with sound effects to boot. The sound effect used though was too familiar as it has been used frequently in horror flicks and I think I already heard this used in a commercial once, but i guess that was their purpose. The scene that would follow would be the unveiling of the product, which would leave you saying "ganech?!"
I think people generally do not really watch commercials on tv. (only babies do this!) Viewers would be intent at watching their telenovelas and then do something else the minute commercial starts. They would probably do channelsurfing or wash the dishes or trim their nails and what have you. So, I guess it has become a challenge for ad agencies to capture the attention of an adult audience. They resort to the use of audios like they must have a catchy song or a catchy script that they hope would have a better recall. So this commercial is actually taking a risk for the reason that it has only that familiar sound effect used and purely visuals. It is also a brave but not smart move because as far as i can remember, Nestle cream ads would normally focus on food, fruits, recipe, family gatherings, christmas, etc...
For my two cents' worth, the ad was nice the first time you see it but after a while, it gets kind of boring and for me would then just be a waste of precious airtime. This could have gained more attention if it aired on holloween or something. At least, it would have been relevant. Indeed, the ad was innovative. I'm just not sure if it would have any impact on the sales of the said product. They should probably stick to parties, christmas and fruits.... but then this is just an unsolicited advice from a commercial-watching TV addict.
I think people generally do not really watch commercials on tv. (only babies do this!) Viewers would be intent at watching their telenovelas and then do something else the minute commercial starts. They would probably do channelsurfing or wash the dishes or trim their nails and what have you. So, I guess it has become a challenge for ad agencies to capture the attention of an adult audience. They resort to the use of audios like they must have a catchy song or a catchy script that they hope would have a better recall. So this commercial is actually taking a risk for the reason that it has only that familiar sound effect used and purely visuals. It is also a brave but not smart move because as far as i can remember, Nestle cream ads would normally focus on food, fruits, recipe, family gatherings, christmas, etc...
For my two cents' worth, the ad was nice the first time you see it but after a while, it gets kind of boring and for me would then just be a waste of precious airtime. This could have gained more attention if it aired on holloween or something. At least, it would have been relevant. Indeed, the ad was innovative. I'm just not sure if it would have any impact on the sales of the said product. They should probably stick to parties, christmas and fruits.... but then this is just an unsolicited advice from a commercial-watching TV addict.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Binibining binubuni ang brain
click here for the video
jam blogged about this in her multiply account the minute we watched it on TV. e bakit naman hindi. kablogblog tlga sha. at you tube material nga ang video na ito. kahit nga ako na mejo nanahimik ng matagal na panahon sa blog na ito biglang ginanahan sa pagsulat. hasus... nahulog ako sa kinauupuan ko at humagalpak kami ng kakatawa. WTF!!! kahit siguro santo mapapamura. bkt nmn kc hindi mo nlng tinagalog. paolo was even suggesting that she answer in Tagalog. wala nmng rule na kailangan ingles e. i'm sure vivienne tan wouldn't mind kc feeling ko naman nakakaintindi sha ng tagalog ano. Mala TSE pa nmn ang pagkakasagot nya sa question ni paolo about pressure saying "No, I don't feel any pressure right now."... gusto ko tuloy bigyan ng pressure sa leeg e... hehe (sa TSE kc dapat complete sentence ang isasagot mo para complete yung thought. so dapat may subject at predicate.. hehe.) mejo i was already expecting a similar response when the real question was asked. and in her case, tipong something like this:
Vivienne Tan: The question is what role did your family play to you as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas?".
Janina San Miguel: The role my family played to me as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas is important. I thank you.
mas malala kung ganito
Vivienne Tan: The question is what role did your family play to you as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas?".
Janina San Miguel: The role my family played to me as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas. I thank you.
at shempre hindi nya ako binigo and she even surpassed my expectations. hehe. i'm sure rehearsed ang lahat ng alam nyang isagot sa Q&A. templated na... kaya lng walang tanong na ganun dun sa book na nabasa nya about beauty queens. "How to join a beauty contest and win for dummies!" siguro meron dun "Who is the most important person in your life?" kya un ang gusto nyang ipasok na sagot... nagkamali lng nmn sha ng intro e... "They was.... " (tapos ninerbyos na sha kc nagisip na sha kung ang family ba ay plural o singular... ) in fairness to her, i guess she delved deep into sentence construction rather than the thought kaya ayun... after much deliberation ng mga nerve cells nya, minabuti nlng nyang sabihin ang isang complete sentence na may word na family na naalala nya mula sa sandamakmak na kinabisado nyang answers to possible questions. hay!@. i hope in her stint at Ms. World, magpakatotoo nlng at magtagalog. magdala nlng ng interpreter. keri na.
actually all of the candidates' answers were quite disappointing.. walang wow factor... walang pinagisipan.. puro templated answers... and more disappointing are the judges who are so forgiving as to dismiss the fact that Ms. World cannot even answer a simple question. Probably the judges were just following criteria set by BPCI with less emphasis on intelligence. so i guess if we want brainy ones to win, we would have to tell Ms. Araneta to have INTELLIGENCE as their priority criterion!
(nagalingan pala ako dun sa sagot ni elizabeth nacuspag #18 in describing the perfect family and why that question (of all questions) was even asked to her is beyond me. it was so coincidental. teary eyed, she explained that she comes from a broken family but viewed hers as perfect because they try to see each other as often as they can and share love in the best way they can.) (parang napakaganda ng disposition nya sa buhay that even in the midst of adversity, she tries to see it positively).
pro as i've said... nakarecover na ako... i've let bygones be bygones. i'm glad i was able to watch din kc at least we had a good laugh at na-aerate din ang lungs ko... i've forgiven the judges and the organizers. i've forgiven the candidates and their inadequacies. After all, it is a BEAUTY pageant.
jam blogged about this in her multiply account the minute we watched it on TV. e bakit naman hindi. kablogblog tlga sha. at you tube material nga ang video na ito. kahit nga ako na mejo nanahimik ng matagal na panahon sa blog na ito biglang ginanahan sa pagsulat. hasus... nahulog ako sa kinauupuan ko at humagalpak kami ng kakatawa. WTF!!! kahit siguro santo mapapamura. bkt nmn kc hindi mo nlng tinagalog. paolo was even suggesting that she answer in Tagalog. wala nmng rule na kailangan ingles e. i'm sure vivienne tan wouldn't mind kc feeling ko naman nakakaintindi sha ng tagalog ano. Mala TSE pa nmn ang pagkakasagot nya sa question ni paolo about pressure saying "No, I don't feel any pressure right now."... gusto ko tuloy bigyan ng pressure sa leeg e... hehe (sa TSE kc dapat complete sentence ang isasagot mo para complete yung thought. so dapat may subject at predicate.. hehe.) mejo i was already expecting a similar response when the real question was asked. and in her case, tipong something like this:
Vivienne Tan: The question is what role did your family play to you as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas?".
Janina San Miguel: The role my family played to me as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas is important. I thank you.
mas malala kung ganito
Vivienne Tan: The question is what role did your family play to you as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas?".
Janina San Miguel: The role my family played to me as candidate to Binibining Pilipinas. I thank you.
at shempre hindi nya ako binigo and she even surpassed my expectations. hehe. i'm sure rehearsed ang lahat ng alam nyang isagot sa Q&A. templated na... kaya lng walang tanong na ganun dun sa book na nabasa nya about beauty queens. "How to join a beauty contest and win for dummies!" siguro meron dun "Who is the most important person in your life?" kya un ang gusto nyang ipasok na sagot... nagkamali lng nmn sha ng intro e... "They was.... " (tapos ninerbyos na sha kc nagisip na sha kung ang family ba ay plural o singular... ) in fairness to her, i guess she delved deep into sentence construction rather than the thought kaya ayun... after much deliberation ng mga nerve cells nya, minabuti nlng nyang sabihin ang isang complete sentence na may word na family na naalala nya mula sa sandamakmak na kinabisado nyang answers to possible questions. hay!@. i hope in her stint at Ms. World, magpakatotoo nlng at magtagalog. magdala nlng ng interpreter. keri na.
actually all of the candidates' answers were quite disappointing.. walang wow factor... walang pinagisipan.. puro templated answers... and more disappointing are the judges who are so forgiving as to dismiss the fact that Ms. World cannot even answer a simple question. Probably the judges were just following criteria set by BPCI with less emphasis on intelligence. so i guess if we want brainy ones to win, we would have to tell Ms. Araneta to have INTELLIGENCE as their priority criterion!
(nagalingan pala ako dun sa sagot ni elizabeth nacuspag #18 in describing the perfect family and why that question (of all questions) was even asked to her is beyond me. it was so coincidental. teary eyed, she explained that she comes from a broken family but viewed hers as perfect because they try to see each other as often as they can and share love in the best way they can.) (parang napakaganda ng disposition nya sa buhay that even in the midst of adversity, she tries to see it positively).
pro as i've said... nakarecover na ako... i've let bygones be bygones. i'm glad i was able to watch din kc at least we had a good laugh at na-aerate din ang lungs ko... i've forgiven the judges and the organizers. i've forgiven the candidates and their inadequacies. After all, it is a BEAUTY pageant.
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