You can't make me confess to being a celebrity whore. Unless you promise me a photo-op, of course (then I'll show you what being a celebrity whore really means).

I was more than surprised to see a long queue of cars going into the Greenbelt 2 parking area before dinner time (on a Thursday night no less). EmCow was intent on getting a new phone and I promised to go with her for her long-delayed vanity purchase. After she bought the phone, I headed back to the car and saw on a billboard that Constantine Maroulis was scheduled to perform there this very evening. I didn't get my panties in a bunch just yet because I really find that guy not only to be quite short on credibility (he did join Elimi-date before Idol), but also mightily annoying. Being a 'rocker' (a term that no self-respecting 'rocker' would use), he keeps flashing those devil horns, not knowing how much intent is lost in the action. General belief paints 'rockers' as threatening (to a sexy extent)... Mr. Maroulis, however, is not. The sad truth is that even April Boy exudes a more threatening presence. Mr. Maroulis's devil horns are in the same category as overly juiced up sound systems playing 'My Boo' in mall parking lots. It smells badly like overcompensation. Mr. Maroulis himself, on the other hand, is in the same category as Siakol and Salbakuta, being mall performers. One difference, however, is that Siakol and Salbakuta actually have hits. I do remember catching a struggling group performing in SM City North Edsa in 1996... they were called the Backstreet somethings. I hear they got pretty big. Good luck then, to Mr. Maroulis, who was on his first song when I left (I did see a white guy on stage who looked like him... hard to tell from the distance).

I was slightly peeved that I reached the gym late this evening, and it's not merely because of Constantine Maroulis... even the parking lot outside the gym had a number of cars lined up at the entrance when I arrived, thanks to some big event at the NBC tent. I was already short thirty minutes when I finally clocked in at the gym and I saw chief Archer Joseph Yeo coming out of the locker room, the Ninja himself. Now the disclaimer: although I - officially - bear no ill will towards DLSU, having a considerable number of "friends" from that school, I have been socially conditioned to dislike Green Archers on principle. No offense to the "friends" of course, but I secretly hate all of you and your entrails. Now that that's over with and the "friends" have been weeded out, I would like to go on: I was tempted to follow the Ninja back to the locker room and make him a personal cellphone scandal just to see if what they say about Orientals is true (I wouldn't know, so please don't ask me). Unfortunately, I lost the motivation to shoot his locker room performance after I realized that the male locker room was the last place I wanted to stalk (excuse me random sir, are you showing me your penis?).

To make up for my failed cellphone scandal, I decided to mosey over to the MTV offices to check on my friends (okay, "friends"). In reality, I just wanted to see if the divine Miss Cindy was shooting there tonight and if she would again poke my nipple. No such luck, apparently, but I did catch Rex Navarrete shooting for his show. I didn't stay long enough to meet Rex though, or see if he would also poke me in the nipple. It would have been fun though. Nipples are always fun.

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