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Why not: Jueteng

Jueteng should have been legalized eons ago. It goes way back Allan Peter Cayetano's past life as a puppy. Tackling why jueteng should be legalized is like delving in a tabooed bin bubbling over topics that have been the bone of contention since the days of old - immorality and poverty. I believe that jueteng is not immoral, it is merely illegal because there are statutes enacted that makes them so. What makes Jueteng illegal is meagerly the lack of permit or grant from the government. But immoral? I highly disagree. Morality is clear as dishwater with mud. Even the greatest minds combined cannot get to the bottom of what is moral and what is not. But seriously, what is immoral with betting? What differentiates jueteng from PCSO lotto andPagcor casinos? Why is cock fighting regulated and Jueteng isn't? If you come to think of it, the only difference is the amount of money involved and to whom these games are beneficial to. My excuses to those who are holier than the pope, but jueteng favors the poor. In this game, their bente singko sentimos matters. The mouths that the kubradors need to feed benefits. I have witnessed it myself, from a bet of twenty pesos to winnings of P36,000 which is already a whale of riches for the unfortunate. The illegality of the game obviously does not stop people from betting.

Keeping Jueteng in the black market is simply fattening the already obese pockets of our stinking politicians. And do you think exposing them will change anything? Let us not forget that they are licensed liars, thickened by years of experience. Legalization of this numbers game will amount to boosted employment and increased revenues for the government. The moral facet of the game should not be dictated by our law makers, it depends solely on the players. Sure, condemn Jueteng, but do so while alleviating poverty and eradicating corruption. Beer for everybody if anyone succeeds in doing so.

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When it's this lucid there's nothing left to do but say YES.
Our first ring, 2005.


"I have this strange feeling that I am not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling."

-Haruki Murakami


It's almost done! :)
Thank you, Papa


My song of the day. Enjoy! :)
You gotta step up your game to make it to the top. So, go!

Camotes Island

The hubdub and I

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Why 9?

This was the day I hated my size 9 feet.

I am big on thrifting. I love every bit of it, well, yes minus the smell and the fact that I always end up swearing that I will never go back (but I always do) because of my egged on allergies. But finding $6 Marks & Spencer, Nine West and H&M shoes? Oh, what joy!

Cases in point:

But could I be any more ill-fated? Maybe not. None of them fits! I was on the verge of crying, one more knockout pair and I would have volleyed into tears. Why must I be a size 9? At this very moment I would have traded my neighbor and her cat for a size 7. I was so bitter I think I hid one pair in the bag section. Haha!

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Danny and Annie

"Every year on April 22nd, at three o'clock I'll call her and ask her if it was today would she do it again." Awwwwwwwww ♥

That Certain Something

Me, photographed by my husband, Jordan ♥

The Je Ne Sais Quoi
YES, I'm in love, I feel it now,

And Cælia has undone me;

And yet I'll swear I can't tell how

The pleasing plague stole on me.

'Tis not her face that love creates,

For there no graces revel;

'Tis not her shape, for there the fates

Have rather been uncivil.

'Tis not her air, for sure in that

There's nothing more than common;

And all her sense is only chat

Like any other woman.

Her voice, her touch, might give th' alarm--

'Twas both perhaps, or neither;

In short, 'twas that provoking charm

Of Cælia altogether.

-William Whitehead


Expected expectations.
Blurred between a yes and a no.
Not leaning against any.



My best-loved vintage loafers ♥
There was once a time when I shied away from flats and when heels were the stars in my shoe rack. But when I saw these babies sitting pretty in a shoe store, I gave the red strappy stilletos a cold shoulder and immediately reached out for this. The soft spoken old lady told me that this was the last pair, my heart skipped a bit knowing finding a pair that fits me well is anything but pie. I tried it on and it fits perfectly. Happy feet! I went home wearing it :)

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I can spend hours and hours in a bookstore just ogling at them pretty things. What more in Bookmarc, a bookstore owned by the fashion genius, Mark Jacobs? I might just never leave the place :)


I thought of trying my luck behind the camera as inspired by the hubdub

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Whoever told you that I am parading my life as a fairytale? Let me enlighten your dimmed perspective. Sharing mostly happy and sunny parts of my life is not saying that my life is a fairytale, it is what you call being positive. Honestly, who likes a person who groans and moans about their can of worms all the time? And didn't your mom warn you about washing your dirty linens in public?

I never said that my life is a pie in the sky because it isn't. But making it seem like it is actually helps. You should try it, the lines in your face are already waving at me :)


I have proven that there are feelings that are bigger than us, feelings somehow beyond our control. A big, sudden rush of emotions enough to break the guard we have built with every resistance we managed to gather. And more often that not, it is inexplicable. It exceeds not only our supposed feeling, but also our reason.

And once again, I am speechless. I am without explanation.


Step 1

I admire bloggers who update their blog every single day without fail, yet they manage not to give out too much about themselves. I miss writing, but sharing my thoughts and spatting my apprehensions out in the open makes it feel like I'm out on a limb. I have blogged for around 3 years but it came to a point that not so positive comments from not so positive people got to me. It shouldn't be an issue, but it was.

Oh, well. Baby steps, baby steps.

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