Pinoy Celebrity Wrestling

   My theory is that if you pull off WWE programming from Philippine television, the masses will finally be convinced of corruption and oppression and they will rise up in revolution.  As such, it becomes painfully obvious that the next big step in Pinoy copycat programming is not the televised horse-afflicted-with-HIV-semen that is “Zaido” (I’m entitled to my opinion), but Filipino-style professional wrestling.  I don’t know where exactly I watched it, but there used to be a Filipino wrestling promotion in the 1980s.  I say, bring it back.

   I am definitely on high spirits following the RAW 15th anniversary special (and man, did Sunny look HOT indeed), and I have it all figured out: the ratings will be huge if GMA-7 or ABS-CBN-2 (heck, even IBC-13) if they showed an all-Filipino wrestling promotion.  To hell with the moralistic debates on whether or not wrestling corrupts the minds of the youth, or if Joey de Leon would be his usual sanctimonious self when he castigates Filipino wrestling on “Startalk.”

   There are a few things right about a Pinoy celebrity wrestling promotion:

  • Our soap opera plotlines are so convoluted that we can accommodate everything from bastard children to love triangles.
  • We have so many celebrity sex scandals that the idea of a Lingerie Pudding Match is enough to boost the ratings.
  • The bloodlust between GMA-7 and ABS-CBN-2 talent is enough for a 10-man elimination tag match a’la Survivor Series.
  • We can hold a 30-man Battle Royal featuring all the Magdalo mutineers.
  • Manny Pacquiao can try his hand in challenging his critics not in a boxing fight, but in Hell in a Cell.
  • We can settle the feud between Willie Revillame and Joey de Leon in Last Man Standing, with the stipulation that the loser retires and leaves the entertainment industry forever.
  • Sen. Ramon “Bong” Revilla, Jr. versus OMB Chairman Edu Manzano is a good main-event draw.
  • We determine who’s the better Zaido in a triple-threat match.
  • Lolit Solis doesn’t have to go to court because she’ll be facing off against Piolo Pascual.

Simbang Gabi

   I miss out on a lot of bibingka and puto bumbong because I don’t attend Simbang Gabi, or the nine days of early morning Mass to celebrate Christmas.  In hindsight, I never once attended Simbang Gabi: not that I have anything against the Catholic Church, but I’m not a morning person.  I’d rather catch up on much-needed sleep than to brave the cold and lethargy of the wee hours of the morning to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ for nine days.

   Ooops, I hope that didn’t sound offensive.

   Simbang Gabi is a time ripe – and perhaps even rife – for chick-hunting under the guise of piety.  It’s also a time for dates on early mornings: perhaps there’s something remotely romantic about Mass being some form of romantic interaction, or sharing puto bumbong with your significant other while waiting for the sunrise.  And they accuse me of being a sinner.

   Among different forms of special masses, I would rather look forward to flaying and self-mutilation come Good Friday, when my sadistic tendencies get the better of me.  You won’t see men whip themselves with barbed and knotted leather straps on the time when Jesus is born in a cave (or stable) in Bethlehem.

   Whatever.