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James pointed me to this clip from an early Ishmael Bernal movie, Pito Ang Asawa Ko (I Have Seven Wives, or if you’re finicky, Seven Wives Have I). Today Bernal is probably best known for directing Himala and Manila By Night, but he also made some killer comedies like the original Working Girls and my favorite Bernal, Salawahan (Two-Timer).

I haven’t seen Pito Ang Asawa Ko in its entirety, but this snippet is hysterical. The man in his underwear is Vic Vargas, who was the leading movie hunk when we were kids. (Consider how the concept of “hunk” has evolved from Vic Vargas to Piolo Pascual.) The wife who throws him out is Gloria Romero, who now plays saintly old ladies, and the gay friend is the writer Orlando Nadres.

This is my translation.

Gloria: Put it down there. One more thing, the watch. Take it off. Put it down there. Now you can go.
Vic: You bought this. Should I take it off?
Gloria: I have no time for comedy. Get out!

At the gay friend’s house.
Vic: Just a moment, buddy.
Orlando: Douglas! Why are you in your. . .
Vic: Later. Pay the cab first.
Orlando: You show up here at midnight and. . .
Vic: Pay the taxi first, he might get caught in the curfew. (Note: During the martial law years there was a 12 o’clock curfew. No one could be out on the streets after midnight. This did not curtail the social lives of Filipinos. They just threw sleepover parties.)
Orlando: How much?
Vic: Eleven-forty.
Orlando: P11.40?! Where did you come from, Hong Kong?
Vic: Cut the blabber, pay the man.
Orlando: Douglas, you will never change. I introduced you to these society women like Amparo so you could marry up and get settled and then you turn up at midnight. . .
Vic: Are you paying him or not!
Orlando: I am paying. You’re always “Pay this, pay that.” Move it. How many times must I tell you that I am not Aristotle Onassis? I am but a humble owner of a beauty parlor. But a society parlor. What do I get from you? Nothing.
Vic: What do you mean, nothing? I let you get some.
Orlando: “What do you mean, nothing? I let you get some.” Once a year, sometimes not even that. How much?
Vic: P11.40.
Orlando: Here’s ten. One peso. Forty cents more. Forty. Okay.
Vic: Here.

The little hardcover Moleskine 2011 Daily or Weekly Diary Planner in black, blue, red, pink, and green is now available at the Moleskine store in National Bookstore in Greenbelt 1 and at National Bookstore branches. I take credit for this: I nagged them into ordering the planners.

Monday: They’re not here yet.
Tuesday: They’re still not here.
Wednesday: When are they arriving?
Saturday: They’re here!

In Emotional Weather Report, today in the Philippine Star.

If the judge-inquisitor had been The Baldwin, Alec, instead of the lesser sibling, our answer would be:

“None whatsoever since we are perfect, but the biggest mistake you ever made was marrying Kim Basinger instead of us. By the way, we actually love you more now that you’re fat.”

An engineer climbs an antenna tower 1700+ feet high. No harness, he uses only his hands and feet. A thunderstorm is on the way. And we watch the video from a camera mounted on his head. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

In io9: The scariest video you have ever watched in the name of science.

This is definitely a crush.

Roger Federer appears (with Robin Soderling) in the new novel by John Le Carré, Our Kind of Traitor. Read an excerpt.

All photos taken with a Kodak instamatic in March 2002.

Chus and Leo are going to Tuscany for an art exhibition and I’m convincing them to stop by Prague. Not that they need much convincing.

My sister and I went in 2002 and we had a blast. Prague is beautiful, like a fairyland designed by dueling architects. We watched The Magic Flute performed by puppets, including a Mozart puppet who conducted the orchestra and periodically spat at the audience. A scalper on the street sold us cheap tickets to the opera and we saw La Boheme.

We booked ourselves at a pensione in the suburbs of Prague. Our attic suite with private bath cost 700 pesos a night, including breakfast (the exchange rate was almost P1 to Kc1). Breakfast was served by the owner of the house, who appeared each day in a different uniform and often warned us about pickpockets (we encountered none).

The only downside was that our pensione was an hour away from the city center by tram (our stop was the end of the line), and we had to hike uphill to the tram station in the cold. It was supposed to be spring, but it was freezing. I saw white flakes on Cookie’s coat and said, “Eww, you have dandruff!” It wasn’t dandruff, it was snow.

Cookie was in charge of the wallet. If you want your funds to last, you put my sister in charge—getting money out of her is like squeezing vodka out of a rock. (But only when we’re on a trip; at the mall she’s easy.) We were early for the the opera so I suggested we go to a bar for schnapps and she said, “No, we’re going to sit in the park until it’s time.” I had to convince her that my ears were about to snap off.

Everyone should go to Prague while they’re young because there are stairs everywhere. Recommended viewing: Milos Forman’s Amadeus and Philip Kaufman’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being (the movie where Daniel Day-Lewis tells all the women, “Take off your clothes”). And the animated movies of Jan Svankmajer.

It’s my sister’s birthday today.

Cookie with a cat that crossed her path. Prague, 2002.

Happy Birthday, Cookie!