The agony from Ecstasy
From "S" to "X" -- "X" as in Ecstasy.
It is said to be more potent than "S" (as in Shabu), more "class" (currently available only in expensive spots) than "S" and guaranteed to enhance one's sexual appetite (oops, don't take that as an invitation to try it!).
No, Funfare isn't speaking from experience (at my age, it's no longer funny to be taking "S" and/or "X"). Those accounts come from "X"-takers, told to Funfare by a third party.
The initial effect of "X" is -- ha-high! -- euphoria, but the after- and side-effects can be hell, thus encouraging the taker to swallow some more to achieve again that state of euphoria.
"X" is getting popular among young stars, or so reports say, and that's the sad/bad news. One "suspect" is a wholesome young actor (so harmless-looking you wouldn't think he's capable of swallowing something less sweet than ... ice-cream?) who's making erratic career decisions lately (including distancing himself from people who truly and really care for him). Another "suspect" is also a young actor, very wholesome, too, who has temporarily dropped out of the showbiz scene -- to recover himself, hopefully, and not to grapple with the agony from Ecstasy.
Funfare is happy for the appointment of Capiz Rep. Mar Roxas as Trade and Industry Secretary. I sincerely admire the man and if and when he decides to run for Senator, I will vote for him (and ask my friends too). In fact, I will still vote for him if he runs for Vice-President (but not if he runs for President because, as I've been saying, I'll vote for -- and ask my friends and relatives to -- for FPJ even if, I'm sure, he has no political ambitions, so far).
As a Mar Roxas admirer, I am therefore entitled to dish out to him some unsolicited advice (am I not?), like fans of stars feel about their "idols" (you know, like members of extended families).
Yes, Secretary Mar should henceforth be careful (careful!) with the women he goes out with. He's a bachelor and he's entitled and has the right to enjoy himself, I know, but he should refrain from stumbling upon the kiss-and-tell type of women who, for all he knows, might spell calamity for him (remember "Calamity Jane?").
At 42, Secretary Mar should know better than mixing himself up with that kind of women who, again perhaps without his knowing it, has made a "public secret" out of the contours of his body, the sound of his groaning and even the size of his -- no, not what you think! -- briefs. Imagine if these facts would later be turned into election "issues." Horrors!
So very early on, Secretary Mar should be cautious and remember that his romantic escapades might cost him his political future.
Behind the success of a man is a woman?
Not all the time!
This is the short, short story of a "mysterious" Christmas card I got last week (better late than never). It features the bright (and well-fed) faces of two cute boys and signed simply "Julio, Miranda, Miguel y Rodrigo."
I wondered, who sent me this card? Who could the two kids on the card be? Are their parents my friend that I haven't seen for ages?
A few days later, I handed to STAR columnist Baby Gil a similar card, addressed to her. Baby's face lit up. She exclaimed, "Oh, another card from Julio Iglesias!"
I was stunned. So the card came from the Julio Iglesias and his new wife Miranda (his former wife is Filipina Isabel Preysler with whom he has three children, two of them, Julio Jr. and Enrique, are following in his footsteps).
"Julio regularly sends Christmas cards to writers who have written about him from all corners of the world," said Baby. "His way of showing his gratitude."
I am keeping the card -- for posterity.
When I looked at the back of the card, I saw the Iglesias' Florida address. I mean to send him a thank-you note one of these days even if, I'm sure, he doesn't remember me from Adam.
Another much-awaited Christmas card every year is the one from poet Charlie Angeles (now retired in L.A.) who always composes a special poem for each of the lucky receivers. The card, like that of Iglesias, arrived also late.
Here's the poem, entitled Gift, beside the photo of Charlie and his wife Connie:
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