JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Photo by Allan Carreon

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a warm, drizzly September in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos* get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and yelling at random passersby—then, I account it high time to go to Quiapo as soon as I can.

Thanks, Herman Melville.

* a morbid state of mind, depression, low spirits

Everything is available in Quiapo, and at wholesale rates that make me feel like a flaming idiot for buying anything in shopping malls. Malls are for watching movies, soaking up airconditioning, and general preening. The streets and alleys of Quiapo are for shopping.

Note this combination of items approved of by the Church, and items disapproved of by the Church. I also stocked up on anting-anting.

After our consultations with our suking manghuhula, Allan my social media manager (I have two, haha, the other being Bubbles) and I had an excellent and very reasonably-priced lunch at a Chinese restaurant. (Which of us is the Fruit Salad?)

We went to Excelente for Chinese ham and queso de bola. Ham scraps, which are great on pan de sal, now cost Php1060 a kilo (!!!!!)

It was heartening to see that although Quiapo’s streets are filthy, crowded, hot and chaotic, and its regulars may not occupy overpriced condominiums or wear expensive clothes, homeless cats and dogs are given food and shelter. People are allowed to be human, unlike in Ayala Land’s Serendra condominium and dining complex, where people who dare to feed stray cats are charged huge fines. I guess claiming to support animal welfare while punishing people for actually caring for animals is their lifestyle. Of course we know what happens when there are no cats. Rats.

Cat haters, this one’s for you.