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We Know When The World Will End - None Of Us Know How
Though i’ve never admitted it, I’ve also been a little bit afraid of the moon. The ghostly shadow of the sun, always lingering with no warmth and little light, so what motive does it have? I could never predict the moon. Its size, position, shape and colour could change at whim like a sinister skinwalker serving only vampire bats and just by stretching high, endangering man. The only constant reliable fact I knew was that the moon appeared at night. And yet, at day it sometimes lingered like a grossly misshapen cloud, a too perfect circle for nature alone to carve. I always felt threatened by its looming presence. Once, on a winter’s night, I was driving home along the M4 Motorway and the moon had consumed the entire horizon. It was larger than I’d ever seen. A yellow wall of unpunctured brick stood seemingly on the hills to my left Despite the road ahead I couldn’t look away. My speed of 90k remained unreigned and while gazing out the passenger window. The moons presence was so powerful, like the white of a wolf's eyes, I felt a tense wind rip through my skin as if I was covered in cold fur. I stared, neglecting my growing speed I plunged into the back of the station wagon ahead. I was fine, so was he. The only pain was a shortly missed breathe and a dent in our vehicles, one each. Nothing my insurance wouldn’t cover. It seems funny now, looking back to that night, that the end of the world would come from an inconsequential speck which lay idly aside the moon's awesome presence. And there was no insurance for the damage that it would cause. It appeared in April. One night we went to bed and one morning we rose to see the stain of the sky. It had no formal name despite its relevance, no wonder, there wasn’t anything characteristic about it. It was a dot, no more no less, smaller than the moon and sun respectively. Black, it was just a dot. They delivered the news with stoicism. Domesticated tongues contradicted with their eyes. Their eyes where the truth could always be seen. Ripped red and and darting, their eyes screamed their minds truths while the tame tongue spat word after scripted word. So too, you could see the stains on their shirts begin to seep through their teets. Coffee, in cups jittering seconds before the cameras went live, began to taint the purity of the cotton. The politicians of course had a plan, an elaborate speech where nothing was said followed by inaction. They said we had three years. “A lot can change in three years, three years ago a different man stood in place but I am here now for my country.” Of course they turned this into a game of boasts. None of us knew how or why but the black dot hailed the world’s end. It was a hostile spaceship filled with exterristal armies. It was god’s wrathful finger aimed with like arrow, a rogue asteroid, a russian laser satellite, a black of hole for you to fill in. What it was we may not have known but it was cancerous nonetheless. Though the world could see it, the first to mark was a man named, Isaac O’dea. A NASA involved astronomer, who briefly after his discovery drew a black dot of his own, right between his eyes. In the first year, of the three that remained the world remained relatively quiet. At first I admired our race for keeping our heads unified in such a crisis, though in hindsight I now see it as just clear denial. Surprisingly, for a straying christian based society who’s need for god has been long outgrown, many scurried to mass. A lot, of whom, had never been. The churches became more and more packed with each Sunday that passed. When the door’s were forced shut, some folk took matters to their own hands. Cults sprouted like weeds, charming and ambitious men, who’d never live to their destined potential, built ranches, land, churches and ‘safe haven communities’ for those desperate enough to outlive the apocalypse. “ARE YOU WILLING TO WORK IN THE NEW WORLD” poster’s would read that littered the streets “ARE YOU WORTHY TO OUTLIVE THE RAPTURE” wrote some Scoutmaster types. Though these were mostly extreme cases, and had little effect on the real world. For the tamer, grounded population life’s focus shifted to life’s pleasures. Parties were rampant, personal disputes were disbanded, everyone became a thrill seeker, doing the things they’d spoken of doing for decades, now. With no time to waste and consequences becoming futile fears, why not go hang gliding in Brazil? Fuck it, we’ll go next weekend. And so my parents took one last holiday, my friends choked on copious amounts of coke at clubs, my boss abandoned his multimillionaire company after no buyer saw value, and I,
I just kind of waited. I carried on as normal, though I suppose my normal life was already one of hopelessness. In truth I had given up long before the world began to end. Its rot and decay meant nothing to a heart beating faintly as mine. I had no aspirations, never dreamt a lot or desired much. In truth, another first admission, my only true goal was to father children (and maybe, I suppose get a published piece of writing.) But when Olivia left a year before that dream and further aspiration had gone with her. After she blocked my number, I’d write her letters, seal , address and date them. But not one was ever sent. I don’t know why I did it, it started as my take on an exercise my therapist had given me but grew into a shameful obsession. I think it was just the closest I could get to closure, or contact, but it was never enough to settle my seeking mind. And on the topic of fleeing, my therapist left late during the year, though he was a good man doing his best to allocate his time to helping the dying, depressed and damned, he was but a man. In these times the world was focused, focused on whatever foolish endeavours they thought would save them. Preachers screamed louder and on higher soapboxes. Protesters marched tighter and implored political action. One man I passed in the street, waved a sign with a vigor akin to a patriot with his flag. “The solution is simple” he told me as if I had asked, “we empty a town, any will do, fill it to the brim with military and nuke the shit out of that fucker.” On another rare venture past my mailbox, I saw a young woman, pissing out the front of a police station, clearly intoxicated at eleven in the morning nonetheless. The officer, a clean shaven bloke with a pressed shirt, who, if not driven by professional matters, must of been the less bit personally distrubed by this unhygienic act, didn’t move. “It doesn’t matter we’re all fucked any way, we’re all fucked anyway.” she slurred in scream at passers by, and the officer must’ve agreed for he looked, laughed and carried on. In the second year, the smiling stoicism and “fuck it, C’est la vie” attitude of the prior had dulled. In place of laughter came a silence. For months, Depression both economic and behavioural consumed the world. Most small, family businesses had shut, focusing their limited income on the remaining twenty-odd months to come. The big dogs, billionaires babies, brands and businesses stayed open, though you’d often see a lack of casual staff running registers. The supermarkets turned to an honesty system of self checkouts.
I’d started to keep a diary, another one of the shrink's ideas. If the world isn’t evaporated instantly someone may very well find it and read the account of the most pathetic protagonist imaginable. I’m sure it’ll confirm the aliens narrative of our incompetence. It seemed that the world had stopped, laid down and prepared to die. The polictions vanished and the streets became unkempt. As the buildings and roads deteriorated so to did the social structures of man. Suicide rates jumped (poorly toned pun intended.) in my quiet isolation, which was really no different than majority of my life, I thought more and more of her. God what I’d give to spend the last year and a half with her. Sure I had nothing to lose but that also meant that I had nothing to sacrifice. I found myself on a walk once. I had to see what, if any, life remained in the desolation. Subconsciously I must’ve taken myself to her place, I swear I didn’t mean to show at the time but there I had walked. Standing outside her door. This was probably the first time I cried since the announcement in the April prior, and I mean I really cried. I considered myself unfeeling, unnerving and cold as a common and pathetic defense but lies are fragile things and lies to yourself are the weakest type because you already know the truth. My wailing had drawn attention by some others out for a walk. Three boys approached me and mocked me for my display. At least it wasn’t her. The strangers shoved me into the semi-secluded path weaving between the complex of townhouses in which I stood. This spot would normally be tucked in a nightly shadow if not for the bleeding sun, and it’s small black nameless friend, above.
I was further mocked, before being kicked, beaten and robbed. Looking back it’s so funny. “Why” I asked them “Why do you even need money now.” “Well there’s not much else we can do” they laughed. “I can see your face.” I commented blankly. It wasn’t meant to be a challenge It was just curious to me how little it mattered to them. The boy from the back stood forward and flashed a knife. God, he flung it fast. Narrowly timed, I managed my hands to face and the blade tore through my pale flesh. Blood seeped and squirted like a crimson cascade onto the pavement. I didn’t yell, just turned heel and ran. Olivias house was nowhere near my home, It was stupid to take such a long walk. Thankfully I knew off a local health clinic a few blocks over. Well, in all honesty it was a vet but it mattered little because upon entry I was greeted by a vacant silence with only the resonating sound of my blood dripping to keep me company. It was midday, midweek and I was robbed and alone in a vet, It was just so funny. By November, the streets spoke again. One of the major cults, The Repented, marched on a city long since abandoned, they had weapons but no one cared less. The Repented theorized the dot was a doorway for the raptured, the holy souls who’d be taken to heaven on the day of the worlds end. The Repented believed they were the new disciples of Jesus Christ and when the rapture came they’d be excluded for past sins and instead they were chosen to stay and spread the new gospel. I think they’re vision of Jesus is a high school jock or something because these guys didn’t come across as the helpful happy folk who had locked the church doors a year before. An opposing cult, The Welcome Party, believed in fact the dot above was a mothership containing an entire population of higher beings who would take earth, and (in accordance to plan) use the members of the Welcome Party as slaves and servants to rid the world of infidels. It didn’t take long before the cults began to clash, driven by the powerful motivation of fear and inadequacy. If only isaac o’dea had told us what he saw. In the chaos of the crazies, the more ‘grounded population’ was taken up by gangs. They’d rob, wreck and riot because the hanggliders were closed and the “fuck it, c’est la vie” attitude demanded stimulation. I was torn. I spent my time in a house with faltering power and resources. My isolation drew on my mind. Before I found comfort in the thought of being alone, I was defiant to a world which wanted to help me, which wanted me to live. Now what was I? I couldn’t rebel where there was no system. Outside the world was red and rampaged in the setting sun of civilization. Inside, the darkness drew closer and my sanity slipped with each bottle I drained. The third year began somewhere along the way. I don’t know… Who was counting the days? Maybe she was. I thought, maybe, I should ask her what the time was. Or the day. That was a good enough excuse. No? I just had to see her before the end. This time I drove to her house, not wishing to go scurrying for bandages again. I drove, about 90k consistently. Not caring about the road rules but lacking the confidence to drive faster. I just had to see her once more. The moon that night was high. It looked far, far away yet it was looking straight down at me, bathing me solely in its meaningless light. I didn’t need it. I just had to see her. Rain fell lightly yet failed to dull the fire that pranced. I stood in her driveway, bathed in a nightly shadow. I just had to have her one more time.
I drove home in the oncoming lane. Only one car passed me, he was going 160 at least. My internals had taken a vile plummet and bile leaked through my tears. When I got home, I ripped open the door and left it ajar, leaving just as much a path of reckoning as I had done at hers. I pointed a gun into my mouth. This was the only other time I cried. My finger never twitched as it closed in on the trigger but I still chose not to pull it, not because I feared death, and not because I made peace but because i didn’t deserve the quick way out, I wouldn’t allow myself a death so seductive. The wolves, the ones that howled at the inverted moon. I would let them pick me apart. Either that or when the end came, I'd embrace whatever horrible hell it meant for us, after all there wasn't much time left. I took a walk. To the centre of town I trodden slowly wanting for the wolves to pick at my poisoned flesh. In typical fashion, none paid mind, some things never change, I guess. My sin was shameful, it was evil, it was animal, it was the new normal. The wolves and vampires I walked past were too occupied with pointless violence. Bodies lay coughing and choking on their own swallowed teeth and mere metres away, groups of naked figures fucked in piles. I didn’t know what started it, I’d been inside for too long but I know it was in them us along. The moon, god how I wish it was blood red, I just want some confirmation that it all meant something but it didn’t, no one was driving our hand. As the hands closed on the doomsday clock nothing changed. We stood there and howled, howled at the moon and it’s lesser, darker, twin which hid from us behind the stars. When the sun rose, and the fires dimmed we looked up to see the black dot was gone. With it, every act of sincerity and sin cleansed with the sunrise of April first. Later they’d come from below. The devil somehow wore the cleanest suit. As it turns out, the stain on the sky was nothing but a fucking projection that NASA imposed. The apocalypse had happened, these three year last a detox for the elite. While we ate the flesh of our sons they chowed on caviar crackers and vintage vino. While we’ve been out here, suffering, dying and mentally decaying they’ve been biding their time in brumation like snakes awaiting a winters pass. The population has been significantly lowered with poor killing poor and those who remain, so drenched in heavy blood that they’ll either sink or be subjected to unarguable capital punishment. We’ve bought solely from those rich enough to keep the lights on. But in all fairness, they did nothing to force our hand. In a way it was a rapture, a waterhole poisoning suicide that killed whatever lies we, as a society had told ourselves. God did not make us, and if he did he made us no different than the lions, wolves and apes. We were only chosen by our fathers and like them our legacy is nothing but a continuing path of biology. Tomorrow the world resumes, I think I may go see my therapist.
We Know When The World Will End - But None Of Us Know How
Though i’ve never admitted it, I’ve also been a little bit afraid of the moon. The ghostly shadow of the sun, always lingering with no warmth and little light, so what motive does it have? I could never predict the moon. Its size, position, shape and colour could change at whim like a sinister skinwalker serving only vampire bats and just by stretching high, endangering man. The only constant reliable fact I knew was that the moon appeared at night. And yet, at day it sometimes lingered like a grossly misshapen cloud, a too perfect circle for nature alone to carve. I always felt threatened by its looming presence. Once, on a winter’s night, I was driving home along the M4 Motorway and the moon had consumed the entire horizon. It was larger than I’d ever seen. A yellow wall of unpunctured brick stood seemingly on the hills to my left Despite the road ahead I couldn’t look away. My speed of 90k remained unreigned and while gazing out the passenger window. The moons presence was so powerful, like the white of a wolf's eyes, I felt a tense wind rip through my skin as if I was covered in cold fur. I stared, neglecting my growing speed I plunged into the back of the station wagon ahead. I was fine, so was he. The only pain was a shortly missed breathe and a dent in our vehicles, one each. Nothing my insurance wouldn’t cover. It seems funny now, looking back to that night, that the end of the world would come from an inconsequential speck which lay idly aside the moon's awesome presence. And there was no insurance for the damage that it would cause. It appeared in April. One night we went to bed and one morning we rose to see the stain of the sky. It had no formal name despite its relevance, no wonder, there wasn’t anything characteristic about it. It was a dot, no more no less, smaller than the moon and sun respectively. Black, it was just a dot. They delivered the news with stoicism. Domesticated tongues contradicted with their eyes. Their eyes where the truth could always be seen. Ripped red and and darting, their eyes screamed their minds truths while the tame tongue spat word after scripted word. So too, you could see the stains on their shirts begin to seep through their teets. Coffee, in cups jittering seconds before the cameras went live, began to taint the purity of the cotton. The politicians of course had a plan, an elaborate speech where nothing was said followed by inaction. They said we had three years. “A lot can change in three years, three years ago a different man stood in place but I am here now for my country.” Of course they turned this into a game of boasts. None of us knew how or why but the black dot hailed the world’s end. It was a hostile spaceship filled with exterristal armies. It was god’s wrathful finger aimed with like arrow, a rogue asteroid, a russian laser satellite, a black of hole for you to fill in. What it was we may not have known but it was cancerous nonetheless. Though the world could see it, the first to mark was a man named, Isaac O’dea. A NASA involved astronomer, who briefly after his discovery drew a black dot of his own, right between his eyes. In the first year, of the three that remained the world remained relatively quiet. At first I admired our race for keeping our heads unified in such a crisis, though in hindsight I now see it as just clear denial. Surprisingly, for a straying christian based society who’s need for god has been long outgrown, many scurried to mass. A lot, of whom, had never been. The churches became more and more packed with each Sunday that passed. When the door’s were forced shut, some folk took matters to their own hands. Cults sprouted like weeds, charming and ambitious men, who’d never live to their destined potential, built ranches, land, churches and ‘safe haven communities’ for those desperate enough to outlive the apocalypse. “ARE YOU WILLING TO WORK IN THE NEW WORLD” poster’s would read that littered the streets “ARE YOU WORTHY TO OUTLIVE THE RAPTURE” wrote some Scoutmaster types. Though these were mostly extreme cases, and had little effect on the real world. For the tamer, grounded population life’s focus shifted to life’s pleasures. Parties were rampant, personal disputes were disbanded, everyone became a thrill seeker, doing the things they’d spoken of doing for decades, now. With no time to waste and consequences becoming futile fears, why not go hang gliding in Brazil? Fuck it, we’ll go next weekend. And so my parents took one last holiday, my friends choked on copious amounts of coke at clubs, my boss abandoned his multimillionaire company after no buyer saw value, and I,
I just kind of waited. I carried on as normal, though I suppose my normal life was already one of hopelessness. In truth I had given up long before the world began to end. Its rot and decay meant nothing to a heart beating faintly as mine. I had no aspirations, never dreamt a lot or desired much. In truth, another first admission, my only true goal was to father children (and maybe, I suppose get a published piece of writing.) But when Olivia left a year before that dream and further aspiration had gone with her. After she blocked my number, I’d write her letters, seal , address and date them. But not one was ever sent. I don’t know why I did it, it started as my take on an exercise my therapist had given me but grew into a shameful obsession. I think it was just the closest I could get to closure, or contact, but it was never enough to settle my seeking mind. And on the topic of fleeing, my therapist left late during the year, though he was a good man doing his best to allocate his time to helping the dying, depressed and damned, he was but a man. In these times the world was focused, focused on whatever foolish endeavours they thought would save them. Preachers screamed louder and on higher soapboxes. Protesters marched tighter and implored political action. One man I passed in the street, waved a sign with a vigor akin to a patriot with his flag. “The solution is simple” he told me as if I had asked, “we empty a town, any will do, fill it to the brim with military and nuke the shit out of that fucker.” On another rare venture past my mailbox, I saw a young woman, pissing out the front of a police station, clearly intoxicated at eleven in the morning nonetheless. The officer, a clean shaven bloke with a pressed shirt, who, if not driven by professional matters, must of been the less bit personally distrubed by this unhygienic act, didn’t move. “It doesn’t matter we’re all fucked any way, we’re all fucked anyway.” she slurred in scream at passers by, and the officer must’ve agreed for he looked, laughed and carried on. In the second year, the smiling stoicism and “fuck it, C’est la vie” attitude of the prior had dulled. In place of laughter came a silence. For months, Depression both economic and behavioural consumed the world. Most small, family businesses had shut, focusing their limited income on the remaining twenty-odd months to come. The big dogs, billionaires babies, brands and businesses stayed open, though you’d often see a lack of casual staff running registers. The supermarkets turned to an honesty system of self checkouts.
I’d started to keep a diary, another one of the shrink's ideas. If the world isn’t evaporated instantly someone may very well find it and read the account of the most pathetic protagonist imaginable. I’m sure it’ll confirm the aliens narrative of our incompetence. It seemed that the world had stopped, laid down and prepared to die. The polictions vanished and the streets became unkempt. As the buildings and roads deteriorated so to did the social structures of man. Suicide rates jumped (poorly toned pun intended.) in my quiet isolation, which was really no different than majority of my life, I thought more and more of her. God what I’d give to spend the last year and a half with her. Sure I had nothing to lose but that also meant that I had nothing to sacrifice. I found myself on a walk once. I had to see what, if any, life remained in the desolation. Subconsciously I must’ve taken myself to her place, I swear I didn’t mean to show at the time but there I had walked. Standing outside her door. This was probably the first time I cried since the announcement in the April prior, and I mean I really cried. I considered myself unfeeling, unnerving and cold as a common and pathetic defense but lies are fragile things and lies to yourself are the weakest type because you already know the truth. My wailing had drawn attention by some others out for a walk. Three boys approached me and mocked me for my display. At least it wasn’t her. The strangers shoved me into the semi-secluded path weaving between the complex of townhouses in which I stood. This spot would normally be tucked in a nightly shadow if not for the bleeding sun, and it’s small black nameless friend, above.
I was further mocked, before being kicked, beaten and robbed. Looking back it’s so funny. “Why” I asked them “Why do you even need money now.” “Well there’s not much else we can do” they laughed. “I can see your face.” I commented blankly. It wasn’t meant to be a challenge It was just curious to me how little it mattered to them. The boy from the back stood forward and flashed a knife. God, he flung it fast. Narrowly timed, I managed my hands to face and the blade tore through my pale flesh. Blood seeped and squirted like a crimson cascade onto the pavement. I didn’t yell, just turned heel and ran. Olivias house was nowhere near my home, It was stupid to take such a long walk. Thankfully I knew off a local health clinic a few blocks over. Well, in all honesty it was a vet but it mattered little because upon entry I was greeted by a vacant silence with only the resonating sound of my blood dripping to keep me company. It was midday, midweek and I was robbed and alone in a vet, It was just so funny. By November, the streets spoke again. One of the major cults, The Repented, marched on a city long since abandoned, they had weapons but no one cared less. The Repented theorized the dot was a doorway for the raptured, the holy souls who’d be taken to heaven on the day of the worlds end. The Repented believed they were the new disciples of Jesus Christ and when the rapture came they’d be excluded for past sins and instead they were chosen to stay and spread the new gospel. I think they’re vision of Jesus is a high school jock or something because these guys didn’t come across as the helpful happy folk who had locked the church doors a year before. An opposing cult, The Welcome Party, believed in fact the dot above was a mothership containing an entire population of higher beings who would take earth, and (in accordance to plan) use the members of the Welcome Party as slaves and servants to rid the world of infidels. It didn’t take long before the cults began to clash, driven by the powerful motivation of fear and inadequacy. If only isaac o’dea had told us what he saw. In the chaos of the crazies, the more ‘grounded population’ was taken up by gangs. They’d rob, wreck and riot because the hanggliders were closed and the “fuck it, c’est la vie” attitude demanded stimulation. I was torn. I spent my time in a house with faltering power and resources. My isolation drew on my mind. Before I found comfort in the thought of being alone, I was defiant to a world which wanted to help me, which wanted me to live. Now what was I? I couldn’t rebel where there was no system. Outside the world was red and rampaged in the setting sun of civilization. Inside, the darkness drew closer and my sanity slipped with each bottle I drained. The third year began somewhere along the way. I don’t know… Who was counting the days? Maybe she was. I thought, maybe, I should ask her what the time was. Or the day. That was a good enough excuse. No? I just had to see her before the end. This time I drove to her house, not wishing to go scurrying for bandages again. I drove, about 90k consistently. Not caring about the road rules but lacking the confidence to drive faster. I just had to see her once more. The moon that night was high. It looked far, far away yet it was looking straight down at me, bathing me solely in its meaningless light. I didn’t need it. I just had to see her. Rain fell lightly yet failed to dull the fire that pranced. I stood in her driveway, bathed in a nightly shadow. I just had to have her one more time.
I drove home in the oncoming lane. Only one car passed me, he was going 160 at least. My internals had taken a vile plummet and bile leaked through my tears. When I got home, I ripped open the door and left it ajar, leaving just as much a path of reckoning as I had done at hers. I pointed a gun into my mouth. This was the only other time I cried. My finger never twitched as it closed in on the trigger but I still chose not to pull it, not because I feared death, and not because I made peace but because i didn’t deserve the quick way out, I wouldn’t allow myself a death so seductive. The wolves, the ones that howled at the inverted moon. I would let them pick me apart. Either that or when the end came, I'd embrace whatever horrible hell it meant for us, after all there wasn't much time left. I took a walk. To the centre of town I trodden slowly wanting for the wolves to pick at my poisoned flesh. In typical fashion, none paid mind, some things never change, I guess. My sin was shameful, it was evil, it was animal, it was the new normal. The wolves and vampires I walked past were too occupied with pointless violence. Bodies lay coughing and choking on their own swallowed teeth and mere metres away, groups of naked figures fucked in piles. I didn’t know what started it, I’d been inside for too long but I know it was in them us along. The moon, god how I wish it was blood red, I just want some confirmation that it all meant something but it didn’t, no one was driving our hand. As the hands closed on the doomsday clock nothing changed. We stood there and howled, howled at the moon and it’s lesser, darker, twin which hid from us behind the stars. When the sun rose, and the fires dimmed we looked up to see the black dot was gone. With it, every act of sincerity and sin cleansed with the sunrise of April first. Later they’d come from below. The devil somehow wore the cleanest suit. As it turns out, the stain on the sky was nothing but a fucking projection that NASA imposed. The apocalypse had happened, these three year last a detox for the elite. While we ate the flesh of our sons they chowed on caviar crackers and vintage vino. While we’ve been out here, suffering, dying and mentally decaying they’ve been biding their time in brumation like snakes awaiting a winters pass. The population has been significantly lowered with poor killing poor and those who remain, so drenched in heavy blood that they’ll either sink or be subjected to unarguable capital punishment. We’ve bought solely from those rich enough to keep the lights on. But in all fairness, they did nothing to force our hand. In a way it was a rapture, a waterhole poisoning suicide that killed whatever lies we, as a society had told ourselves. God did not make us, and if he did he made us no different than the lions, wolves and apes. We were only chosen by our fathers and like them our legacy is nothing but a continuing path of biology. Tomorrow the world resumes, I think I may go see my therapist.
[Review] Chanel 2.55 Reissue Mini (20cm) Quilted Black Aged Calfskin RHW from 187 Factory/TS Heidi
Background: Hello RL family! Wanted to share my first RL review. I'd consider myself a junior RL, having been here about a year or so. I have owned auth LV and a couple of auth Chanel SLGs in the past but like many of you have become disillusioned with the whole authentic luxury goods industry. I've seen the light and joined the right side, oh I mean rep side :) I am not the best QC'er and consider myself a low maintenance RL as I am not too picky. While I have owned auth Chanel SLGs , I have never actually owned an actual Chanel handbag so please do take my review with a huge grain of salt! Disclosure: Heidi kindly asked that I submit a review. I did not receive any incentive. Seller: TS-Heidi (WhatsApp +852 9600 9723) Price: $435 - $15 (11.11 promotion) = $420 USD shipped + $4.99 Paypal Fee Payment Method: Paypal F&F Carrier: DHL Order Timeline:
Nov 7th - messaged Heidi via Whatsapp to see if this bag was in stock - she replied yes and provided her Paypal address
Nov 8th - Paid
Nov 11th - PSPs received/PSPs approved
Nov 14th - Heidi provides DHL tracking number and confirms shipment; also received separate email from Heidi as well with the tracking info
Authentic - I could not find any in this exact combination although for certain it exists and was released in 20A and have seen them from IG resellers. Instead, I have linked some with GHW here and here and another in the 224 which has the double flap.
Quality: 9/10
Leather: Aged calfskin is smooth, supple, and very luxe. No need for conditioner. Although there was no fufu smell, I wanted to note that the bag also didn't smell like leather either (unlike my 187 WOC which smelled heavenly). Not deducting points as this does not bother me.
Stitching: Beautifully done and very neat. Particularly the thicker stitch aesthetic is so on point! I do not see any loose threads
Distressing: Spot on. I LOVE how distressed my bag. Really brings out the spirit of the Reissue!
Zipper: Smooth and easy to move. Stamping/engraving on the zipper is correct.
Chain: Weighty and slinky. Very smooth and glides effortlessly. Ruthenium color looks on point. Did want to note that I've noticed some random silver specks which I'm guessing is from the hardware. Not deducting points as this does not bother me.
Interior Stamp: Not as clear but no one is going to be looking at the inside of my bag. Not deducting points as this does not bother me.
Alignment (-1): Overall, visually this bag tilts a little more to the left. Originally when I saw the PSPs I thought maybe it is the angle since the bag doesn't really sit flat on itself. Also, the tongue/rectangular plate is a little off as well as the placement of the lock post (under the flap). Maybe 1-2mm at most. I had noticed this in the PSPs as well but to be honest, I know 187 has as stringent return/exchange policy. I am under the impression that unless it is the wrong bag/egregiously defective consider it yours. I had read and looked through other posts in the past and it looks like something similar happened with u/stardust775 and u/katlovesbags. I showed my SO her post and how she fixed it and he did something similar with regards to unscrewing/screwing the plate. Here are the before and after pictures of the rectangular plate alignment. At quick glance you can't really tell the difference at all, but it was one of those once you see it you can't unsee it things (does anyone remember those 3D pictures from the 90s that you'd have to stare it and then it'd POP out at you...? Kinda like that!)
Accuracy: 10/10 As mentioned above, I have not owned an auth Chanel handbag nor have I gone to the boutique to see this piece IRL. However, based on endless hours of research and combing through all posts on RL and almost 200 pages of the Chanel Reissue thread on TPF, I am confident and VERY impressed with this bag! Overall, the leather, distressing, stitching, hardware, shape, sizing, number of diamonds/quilts, number of stitches per quilt all measure up and is spot on! I would be very confident walking into a Chanel boutique or wearing this around my friends who own auth Chanel. I do want to note that this chain measures 22" (auth is usually 21") but I am not deducting points for that as it is minor and the 1" actually is in my favor crossbody wise. Seller Communication and Service: 10/10 Heidi is my go to TS. This is the third bag I have purchased from her. I really enjoy working with her because she is no nonsense and direct. I like her style. By the time I message her I have already done my research and read all the reviews etc, basically I am ready to buy. I appreciate that she communicates in English, has a website in USD inclusive of shipping and takes Paypal F&F. It is just easy overall buying experience from her. I have also noticed that for 187, she is very competitively priced (at least on the pieces I've been looking at). I have often seen other TS prices higher than hers without shipping. Heidi has always communicated really well in my experience - of course I do keep in mind that she is 16 hours ahead of me and has a domestic population of billions to serve + us globally! I actually had a change of heart of where to ship my bag (due to reading the shipping/customs thread) and wanted to see if I could still potentially change it. I messaged her on Saturday at 3pm my time which was Sunday 6am China time not expecting a response until much later. Heidi messaged me back ASAP. She said she was already up and working. I'm sure she has so many of us to take care of and has such a high volume to work through. Satisfaction: 100000000/10 All things considered I LOVE THIS BAG! I love it so much that I am already considering another Reissue purchase from 187/Heidi! I know we all get tunnel visioned sometimes and obsess over QC'ing. I had to keep in mind that the auth version of this bag would be close $4K USD. This is 1/10th the cost but just as luxurious and beautiful!! Even auth Chanel's are not perfect and have issues with their rectangular plate, so I'll take my flaws and wear them proudly! Take it as a bonus to be more auth like lol! And to be quite frank, I've sold all my auth Chanel SLGs which all have been underwhelming. Even more underwhelming now that I've found RL! Thank you for reading and hope this review will help another RL out there. Feel free to let me know if you have any questions!
[Review] Chanel Boy Small Black Caviar RHW from NON TS Andy (gzandybag)
Hi ladies! This bag was my first rep purchase before joining Repladies about two months ago. This lovely bag was not purchased from a TS from Repladies but from a seller I originally saw on Youtube. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Disclosure - I did not receive any discount or incentive for this review
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Quality - 7/10** The leather was REALLY REALLY dry when I first received (-2) it so I conditioned it many times and now it's slightly better. However, my mom has an auth Chanel flap caviar in black and it's nowhere as shiny as hers :( I feel like the bag I got was a lot less shiny and luxe as the factory photos? When the bag was delivered, the straps were wrapped in a way that made the straps super bent and creased (-1), I tried to iron it out with a tea towel and an iron and it's gotten a lot better, but as you can probably see in the photos it's still a little creased. The chains aren't extremely heavy but they're also not super light - not exactly sure how heavy the chains are supposed to be though. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Accuracy - 6/10** From what I can tell from other reviews and photos of the auth online, the hardware is all correct: The CC nails on the strap are facing up and down, the screws are also correct. The construction of the bag is done very well - there are no loose stitches and the bag feels very STURDY. The snake tongue of the bag is not completely rounded but also not as pointed as some other ones I've seen - it's definitely not as pointed and structured as the auth so (-1) for that. There was no fufu smell (thank god - my two most recent purchases from orange couch were horrendous) since this was a pre- repladies purchase, I was stupid and didn't realize that I should have gotten PHOTOS for Psp's instead of just a video (which is all that she sent me). If I had gotten photos, I would have seen that the Chanel logo font on the inside of the bag is a little off (-2)? It's also on the inside and I can always put a bag organizer to cover it but damn was it a stupid mistake on my end for not asking for close up photos of the logo. In the photos, it looks like the logo on the inside is like scratched off - it's not - it's just the flash. ***I did not receive a box with this purchase, it only came in a dust-bag The shape of the bag is accurate to the factory photos I received. The bag measures 8 inches across - the auth is 7.75 in - and 3 inches width - auth is 2.75 - So I think this bag is SLIGHTLY larger (-.5)than the auth but It's small I really think it's not that noticeable. The sides of the bags dip in like the authentic. The quilts are puffy but not SO puffy that it's weird - it's a solid for me. There are 7 stitches per side of the square (I've read anywhere from 6-8 is fine) The piping DOES end early! But hey, another *first rep purchase mistake* (-.5) The alignment is great - I do think the triangles at the back/bottom of the bag start a little earlier compared to auth but again, back of the bag and not really a big deal (to me) I think the best thing about the bag is the hardware - the ruthenium is really spot on to the photos of the auth I've seen online (also a bonus for getting the RHW since it' *aged* so you really can't tell) - and the quality of the hardware looks and feels really *real* if you know what I mean haha The interior lining doesn't lift up! It's very neat inside and the fabric is firmly attached to the leather. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Satisfaction - 6/10** Look, this was my first purchase before discovering Repladies so I'm not unhappy about this purchase, I've just learned an expensive lesson! Which is okay :) I've gotten so much good out of this community and I've already purchased a lot more and BETTER bags with TS Anna and TS Aaron and it's been great :) I think the thing that makes me hesitant to wear this bag out is the leather, I'm so worried that people can tell that it's dry. This is where I would love some constructive criticism from the team here on Repladies! Would you wear this bag? Should this be my vampire bag ? ( Only wear it out at night after a few tequila shots??) Should I give it to a cousin? LOL please help ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **Seller Communication and Service - 10/10** Andy was really great, she really held my hand through my first ever rep purchase. She was super responsive and answered all my worried questions. However, I won't be buying with her again because I don't think she has access to the other factories(?) I could be wrong but it seems like she only sells stuff from their own factory. She also had some discounts going on after my purchase with her and tried to get me to buy more but I was like.... nah. haha EDIT***❌❌❌❌ let this post and the comments below be a warning to those thinking of buying from Andy! Although I had a decent experience with her as a seller and was let down by the actual bag, seems like there are other ladies who have had really terrible experiences.
Documenting my first time through The Challenge Part 9(Battle of the Exes 2)
I'm back and going through Battle of the Exes 2. Long in depth thoughts through each episode with a TL:Doverall thoughts of the season at the end. Ran out of room to add much more preamble to this so check out previous posts if you're interested. Battle of the Exes II EP 1: Going just by the quick intro it looks like their budget went up. Lot of glances at much more involved challenges. Not Johnny R again. :/ Fucking Knight again with a mullet. CT saying he shaved his beard since Diem was going to be there is hilarious. Wes looking skinny these last couple seasons is so weird. I like John the rookie comedian immediately. Very self aware, which doesn't seem like it'd be good for this show. CT and Diem pairs again? I mean I didn't assume she'd be with someone else, but seems weird to do the same duo a second time. "..and she had no gag reflex." Zach is gross and a douche right from the jump. Sarah and Jordan seem like a good pair. Nany "I have options" wow, self burn? Bananas?!?! Damn Nany, literally who don't you go through? No judging but damn, Bananas?! If Theresa is strong this season, her and Wes could be great. I feel like her perception of a strong challenger came out of nowhere last season though. This first like 5 minutes seems more explicitly sexual than any of the previous seasons lol Straight up talking about gag reflexes, world class bj's, getting caught in the bathroom. They like pushing the exes and hook up factor super hard? Wait...so was Dustin just lying his ass off last season? He said he had some "agreement" with Heather but that he was single on Free Agents? So he wasn't and THAT's what Jessica was talking about at the reunion? Most of these rookies just seem like they were cast by some completely other production company or something. They seem like they were cast for comedic possibilities, rather than actual personalities. It just seems like a huge swing in casting style. I hope this isn't like a shifting in focus? I love CT, I will try not to say it as often this season. "Take my dog on the most ridiculous vacation." Wes has his priorities straight I swear "Shut the fuck up" is the most common words to come out of Bananas' mouth. OK, these houses are really getting ridiculous. This place looks like a resort. Dustin seems like he's trying too hard. Like he's trying to pick up on this Jessica/Jay joke/rumor, but he just kind of runs too much with it and just keeps going on. But it seems like it's more to appease the people around rather than like he actually cares? It seems so weird and awkward? Bus and flying to another bus to just the first comp? They definitely got their budget upped this season. Last season all the comps were in the same damn watering hole lmao Not to be an instant naysayer, but I hate these kind of comps. They're just boring as hell. Oh, you gotta walk across a big height and you might fall. The effect is more on the cast than viewers, it just becomes boring and repetitive for viewers. CT seemed to have the best idea, but Diem seemed to not want to do it. Just get a big push and hang on while CT holds her. They did it the first little bit, but it didn't seem like she pushed all that hard. I feel like a Wes first power couple is the best possible choice for potential drama. I'm glad Theresa's sketchy ass vote from Free Agents has stuck with her. Purely because it was just so stupid. "The Banana one" Johnny just trying to nonchalantly swim over to listen to their convos. Wes trying to get on the good side of rookies? Seems like a bold strategy. They're a lot more volatile and emotional and probably a lot easier to break and beat down the line. But also more likely to fuck you somewhere along the line. I feel like sending Bananas in right away is dumb when you know he'll likely stay. At least get an idea for the eliminations before you send him in. So you have better knowledge. Him and Nany are probably automatically in the top 3 or 4 of pairs for the whole season. Sending them against some rookies is just dumb. Is Dustin on the outs really because of his gay porn? Or is it just because he's awkward and seems to get along with the women a lot more than the guys? I could definitely see a lot of these guys being put off by the dude being in gay porn, but he also just seems like he's trying too hard all the time. "You threw me in on the ruins." I feel like that is extremely putting The Ruins lightly. Wes really just seems like he's having fun with this meeting. Like he just wants to scare Johnny. Yeah, I could literally see that conversation ending with Wes saying "I'm not throwing you in, I'm just messing with you." and that being why Johnny says "Fuck you for even making me have this conversation then." I feel like Wes was having fun with it and editors wanted to use it for suspense. Dustin and Jessica going in first really does seem like a "random" ass choice... You literally could have thrown in the other Johnny and said he skated by last season and you can't have it happen again. Or anything. Seems weird to say Jessica/Dustin are in the middle so...bye. This comp looks simple but interesting still. I like it. Welp, Dustin/Jessica gone. I feel like there was something more going on with this social dynamic in some way. Drunken Diem dancing. A Diem season staple. Weird, seeing the people leaving? The Challenge actually enacting twists? I kind of liked the purity and straight forward aspect of the show! :/ Exes II: Ponderous edition EP 2: The Real World Explosion is such a dumb name. Ran out of dynamic locations? "Get the fuck over it! Something happened you didn't like in the past!" Well, Jordan has a way with words... I think I'm getting the character turn... Well it seems Johnny has already established the friendship in the house and that everyone is going to have his side. A suck and blow competition, yeah they're definitely leaning in to it. Johnny not getting by this season! lol If Avery and Johnny somehow win, I feel like Avery is an episode away from quitting. Ok, this ball and bat section is hilarious. Can you not just spit the peanut butter out? You just have to get it off with your tongue, not eat it? Did I miss that part of the instructions? Apparently they couldn't just spit it out? "Vets, vets, vets!" Just really helping Wes and his case of getting the rookies after you aren't you Bananas? Wes and Bananas going back to back? Will they go for it? Nany being the one who's wanting to pull the trigger? lol Nany ain't fuckin' around this season. Damn. Theresa fucking this up more than anything. You're just being stubborn. Did you learn these habits from Laurel? "You'd be dumb not to put us in." Theresa, sit down. Uh oh. Diem not feeling well :( Every Diem moment is just going to be ominous. They're really just repeating this boring elimination challenge? That definitely seems like a choice. I would love nothing more than for Johnny to go out his very first elimination. Damn, Johnny gets to stay. Not a big let down as the other two seem entirely forgettable. I just wanted Johnny out for spite. Nany just seems to have come in to this season with a mission to be confrontational. Why does Avery being jealous and not ok with with you and Johnny happening have to be addressed? Just give it time and let it try to develop? This weird Jay stuff is....weird. It's a bummer with how CBS all access puts up the ads for their site because the Diem and Knight memorial pictures flash on the screen for like a half second before going to a commercial and coming back to the previews. EP 3: I figured this, but Johnny seems childish. CT being pulled by producer?! Geesh, CT is not having any of this. Killer look to the producer and just puts the phone off speaker lol Good for you CT. Man, this is heart crushing too watch. Oh god, seeing Nia actually sucking her thumb is unsettling. Stop it! God this is sad and soul crushing. I can't do this! "Only way I usually go home this early is when I hit somebody." Still able to joke lol Well there went about a third of this seasons competitiveness. Bananas and Jordan walking in talking about the possibilities of the comp doesn't really seem all that standoffish to me. Jenna, your face ain't all that cute and you seem to have the personality of a brick wall. Theresa's hand getting stuck lmao "MY HAND! MY HAND! MY HAND!" It kept you on, count it as a blessing. I can't wait for Knight and Pennsetucky to go. Jemmye off instantly, maybe I'll get what I want this episode. Zach not waiting until the final to start screaming at his female partner... I'm assuming players must have wised up to the fact that it's not always benneficial to go last? Especially on something like this where it could rain and effect grip. Just put yourself a couple groups back to get an idea but not last in case it does rain. Simone and John must be gone here. I thought John would be funny and interesting to have in the house but he's had literally zero screen time since the introductions. "I want Bananas in the final." What in the fuck? What are you smoking Jordan? You're just going past hoping to have yourself in the final, but you want to have Bananas beside you guys to beat him? "I'm the same way, out of all the girls in the house, I never want to say your name." The unsaid part of "Your partner on the other hand..." The problem with playing the middle game Sarah is that sooner or later it becomes hard to hide what you're doing because someone expects you to show your hand or make a decision sooner or later. The good news though, is that this game is better when there is apposing sides politically. One big alliance just ruins the game, just look at modern Big Brother. It destroys the game and makes it not worth watching. Food eating Elim? Oh shit...a replacement for CT/Diem? I actually didn't expect that. Hopefully some good competitors. Well what the shit, why even say shit? Jesus. Oh shit, they brought back I Can from the duel but with food? NICE! I actually liked that comp idea, but thought it wasn't handled well at all. Milk on the table makes me think spicy stuff. Simmone...chick. It's a betting challenge and you go lower... These guys are completely clowning the Are You The One cast lol Don't give me weird ass slow mo while he's inserting a damn brownie in his mouth. These rookies man... "A little urgency!" These rookies have no damn drive. Jesus. The first vet that gets eliminated is going to have an easy ass time with whatever the hell Exile is. Just filling up that house with all these shitty rookies. EP 4 - EP7 missing. It was probably a lot of celebrating. Knight and Pennsetucky get taken out, then Johnny/Nany. "Groupon pussy" was an amazing line that was said. Rookies still suck. blah blah blah EP 8: I'm going to start this episode by bitching about how much the CBS all access app/site sucks. The app is terrible, I constantly get double dose of ads, the app literally needs reset every 2 episodes because the app itself gets bogged down and starts lagging. The website constantly just freezes up between ad breaks and flipping back to the show. I've had times where the episode didn't keep track of my progress on an episode and I had to fast forward through the episode and I then had to sit through all 3-4 ad breaks before it got to where it needed to be. I'm usually all for the Rookies coming in and fucking up the game and killing the vets gang up mentality, but the rookies this season are just damn terrible. They're not interesting, they have no real killer mentality, they stuck competitively. This cast is booty. Sarah having to be the one too initiate some kind of team bonding is a damn bummer. Jordan is an asshole and it sucks Sarah wants a win that bad that she's the one to suck it up and feed in to Jordans ego. TJ telling the crew about the guys having to be on the outside makes think this definitely comes up and isn't just a safety thing. "Too fucking easy. I hesitated." Yeah, Leroy and Nia probably would have killed that if Nia didn't hesitate so long. Jonna being able to jump back in time was great. Damn This is a cool ass comp, but seems more cool than easy. Zach flipping out for no reason. He just wants to flip out. Chill the fuck out. Sarah's enthusiasm is kinda getting overboard... Jordan completely fucked that up. He hugged the wall when coming back and yelld for Sarah to go. I mean, you gotta be the one to stay aware of where you're going and standing. "Well, you did exactly what they told you not to do, so you need to do a better job of paying attention." TJ laying it down. Jonna crying, Zach walks up and opens up with "I'm going to explain where all my anger is coming from..." follows up with "What did I blame you for that wasn't your fault?" God damn Zach. You flipped out for no damn reason and there was no blame, you just flipped your shit. "You give the two black people fried chicken... I ain't even mad. I'm going to enjoy it." and "Surprise, motherfucker." I'm liking Leroy this season. Zach asking to make Jay tremble. What in the hell is wrong with Zach? I feel like Wes is completely lying about Zach being his number 1 just to hope he gets him thrown in lmao "I hope you learned a lot here tonight too." "That you're a fucking snake..." "It's guy code." Zach, shut up. Zach instantly knowing Wes did it. I laugh knowing damn well Leroy and Nia probably went straight to Zach after talking with Wes. I'm actually not sure who Leroy/Nia are throwing in right now. I feel like the smart play would be Zach or Wes if they're wanting to better get to the end and win, but they could easily just throw in Jay/Jenna to not make a move. I'm guessing Jay/Jenna and all this talk really just gets Zach flipping out more after this. Also seriously what the fuck is happening with the Exile house? There's four couples after this? I don't understand them all fawning over Wes being such a great manipulator. He really didn't say much other than "Don't throw me in, throw my biggest partner in so you become my biggest partner." What?! You people are so easily swayed and accepting of just anything? Going to Jay and Jenna and demanding a thanks lmao wow what a power trip A sledgehammer elimination...for Jordan. Eesh this guy doesn't get the best luck when it comes to elim's Oh nevermind, he's killing it lol Zach is definitely doing this stupidly. He's getting barely any surface area of the hammer on the beam. He's basically trying to chop the damn thing in half by hitting the corner of the hammer. Jordan walking to the beam and away from it to hand sarah the hammer is just about the same way the rookies have approached these elims. They're somehow selling the Jonna and Sarah closeness but they seem farther apart than Jordan and Zach were. Editing! Really hope Sarah gets a win here. Zach still just whining because Jonna is getting words of encouragement lol Hey it looks like Johnny and Nany may actually have some competition now. Seriously if someone isn't coming back like right now this is the most bullshit twist. Ok, there's instantly a tease for it. I was about to say... EP 9: Wes getting this far and then getting messy out of fear? Where have I seen this before? Jordan saying "I'm done wheeling and dealing." Your mark on this season is mostly not making deals lol Jordan being mad at how Theresa talks to people is fucking hilarious. Wes calling it out. "On the asshole scale you are easily over Theresa." I get where Jordan is coming from not just wanting to help the biggest competition in Wes. But if he plans on future appearances on The Challenge, it's real damn dumb to just show vets that you aren't open to working together at the end. Jordan is completely bullshitting lol He started talk about Theresa by saying he didn't want to make the deal because he doesn't like the way Theresa acts and talks to people. Like she's queen of the place and she's a bitch. Why would Wes even bring up Theresa to compare Jordan to if he didn't talk shit first? Just randomly picks his partner to compare Jordan to? "We're here and now, not ten years ago with roided up Wes." hahahahahaha I honestly wouldn't say Wes used to do roids, he more seems like the rivals 1 final completely altered how he prepares for these challenges. It's like he died in that final and switched to way more focus on running and endurance and slimmed the hell down. Especially after fresh meat 2 where it seemed like he could get by pretty well on talent and politicking so why not just prepare more for the final? Wes' heart looks like it's in his damn stomach as soon as he walks in to the dome. Leroy "What the fuck ya'll clapping for?!" There's been a whole losers bracket? Where the fuck has that been shown?! Wes instantly "It's going to be Bananas" Wes is instantly not enthused. He looks miserable. I hate that this losers bracket has just gone on and not been shown at all. Was this maybe shown on their website at the time or something? In Wes' eyes this would just fucking suck. You played a pretty damn good political game. Had a lot of weaker people going just to further help Banana's and Nany to get back in the game with 1 or 2 challenges left before the finals. And they're coming back with a lot of momentum. I'd be pissssssed. I'm all for it from a tv watcher though, because otherwise this would have been a landslide boring season. Another elim rehash. I wasn't a huge fan of this one though. At least this time around they aren't having to pull around a fucking 10 inch rope. Is...Zach and Jonna winning this? Jordan helping Bananas is like the dumbest twist of fate ever. The guys by all accounts hated each other. Bananas would probably beat Jordan in most challenges and final. Is it solely out of anger for Wes? lol I am so confused on what happened during that? By all appearances Zach and Jonna had an easier set of rope/knots to work with, were shown well behind multiple times. Then all of a sudden it's like Zach/Jonna made zero progress. Zach blaming Jonna lmao Fucking Zach There's Bananas being that "Humble winner" that he loves to tout and bitch about Jordan with... I think Wes is overstating just how much he's done, but it would absolutely blow to get to this point and just have your worse adversary come back in the game. Bananas on the fucking high horse all over again... I really don't understand when people say they don't know where the Bananas hate comes from. He talks like he plays a certain way, but then when you actually see him play...it's nothing like how he talks about. It's bullshit. He's a douche. Talking all this shit about Wes making a ddeal with the devil. We can bring up how much shit you've done to get to some of your finals dude. The island, making a deal with Ev to fuck over your own alliance, to only fuck them over again and leave out the girls. The ruins fucking over everyone and passing it off as "fair" and what everyone wants, until it gets down to you and you flip your shit that you're going to go in. You've constantly played like shit all the way up to Free Agents where you actually had to do shit and then you had the constant best partners since then with Frank and now Nany. Wes trembling. Hey, I remember this challenge from Fresh Meat... The show has come a long way from throwing balls around while standing on tree stumps to now being elevated above water and doing it. Nia literally can't stand? lol TJ advocating for someone to quit?! Who is this man?!?! I've never seen this man before. Damn! Jordan got a huge ball hit on Wes lol Point blank head shot that apparently Wes didn't see coming at all. Leroy trying not to jump lol I feel like everyone should have been throwing that to Bananas. Let him put the blood on his own hands. He has a choice of either going back on his word or give Wes an easy win. See which matters more to him. Ya'll just did his work for him, making sure Wes goes to the dome and then being able to jump out and not have to worry about going in. Ya'll dumb. Jordan suddenly being a fucking Johnny boot licker is certainly fucking something. Yeah Leroy, Ya'll are stupid. You can't talk much shit Leroy, you would have been talked in to doing the same shit. You put in Zach instead of Wes only because Wes said not to lol Apparently people in this game don't view returning players the same way as Survivor or Big Brother. Those mother fuckers instantly have a target on their backs when they come back in no matter what the party lines are(most of the time). How you don't instnatly just throw them back in the dome seems crazy. You already left once, why should someone who's made it this far deal with the risk of possibly going home? At least that's usually the mentality around this type of situation. Nia is at least calling it true. I'm not saying it isn't the worse of the decisions, but she's definitely calling it true as hell. This Nany/Johnny vs Nia blowup is my life. Give them alllllllll the shit. The thing that wasn't talked about enough is how Johnny threw it knowing he'd be safe and knowing Leroy would be going in. Leroy got used and played and doesn't even realize it. Ep 10: Theresas smile during this fight is Chef's kiss Sarah being straight up. "Yeah, I want to make this easier for myself going forward. It's a game." I think Nia is 100% vindicated in what she's saying about Johnny/Nany, but the reasoning behind it doesn't matter. Fucking Johnny trying to talk fucking shit afterward. Seriously going to Leroy like nothing was done out of line and acting like Nia is insane and ruining everything. Somehow Johnny just keeps being able to play his bullshit politics and act like he's the nice guy afterward. Crazy to think Sarah's been on 8 seasons already. Maybe because of the early dq's with teammates makes it seem smaller but I feel like it hasn't been that damn many. I hate the echo chambers that these games create within themselves. Everyone who came up with the decision, who agrees to the decision, and is in no way getting screwed by the decision sitting in a room laughing about the people being upset being insane is just hilariously blind and inept. I am liking the trend of not showing these elims until the contenders see it. Hall brawl....Well bye Wes/Theresa. Sucks for you that you played a pretty great game and get fucked over by a twist. Just for reference it isn't just that it's Nany/Johnny walking back in the game that makes me dislike the twist. I don't usually like twists at all in these shows unless they're known by everyone before hand so they can be played around. Even if CT and Diem walk back in the house somehow I'd still have an issue with it. I think Wes knows they're already out. He doesn't look in it at all. Both teams envisioning Nany is pretty hilarious. Yeah, I'm not sure what that Wes strategy was... I feel like Wes has a history of quietly quitting when he knows he's already lost. He quit against Ev in FM 2, and now he just lays down and says his head hurts? "He's fine, he's being a pussy. Karma's a bitch." What in the hell did Wes do? Put you in to get eliminated? lol Fuuuuuck Johnny. "It's a game" "It's a game" "It's a game", but also get killed, karma's a bitch, you're being a pussy. I literally don't know what Wes is doing lol but man I'm so fucking tired of hearing Johnny talk. Jordan being an ass licker to Johnny after two whole seasons of Johnny talking non stop shit about him is fucking depressing. What happened to all that pride and ego talk? It's on one part funny to watch Wes' downfall, but at the same time it's so agrevating watching it come from a twist and at the shit hands of Johnny while he talks shit. I am not ready for the amount of times I'm going to see Johnny on seasons going forward :/ It was weird hearing shit talking of Nia sucking her thumb and then suddenly seeing it a lot this season. It's fucking WEIRD. "It was Jordan who did it, you can't blame Bananas." Leroy, you are god damn stupid lol Johnny was talking about this shit before the competition even happened. Apology tour. Kind of worthless at this point. There's slim pickings and it all doesn't really matter too much at this point. Seeing the city stuff made me get excited for the idea of a city final again. We were robbed!!!!! I literally can't get passed the Jordan ball licking of Bananas. What in the holy hell heppened?! This is kind of a boring challenge to watch leading in to the final... Why am I still dealing with Jay and Jenna on this damn show?! At least it seems like these rookies won't skate by to the final and will actually see an elim. I'd rather the vets not have an easy win. The three teams other than the rookies would be a pretty good final as long as Sarah doesn't heat stroke out of this one like Cutthroat. Uh oh, guess I counted Jordan/Sarah in too soon. Bananas urging Nany and yelling for her to go and then falling himself is beautiful. Johnny instantly saying "You know I love you guys" I fucking hate this guy. They're arguing hahaha Sarah wants to stick to the same damn plan of keeping light weight and Jordan wants to lick fucking boots. Johnny being upset hahahahahaha Fuck Johnny. Angry they're not seeing a challenge! hahah Johnny will literally flip every fucking thing on its head when it comes down to him. Hahahahaha Johnny, if you were concerned about that so much why were you fine with Leroy and Nia going in? Oh because now it's you going in? I don't get the Johnny love. This dude is 100% fucking two faced. He passes it off like he's this extremely loyal smart player, but all that shit goes out the window when he can say anything against him going in. Sarah is playing the vet and Johnny's style of game of making their way easier and cutting the fat. He's just mad his arguments are being used against him. EP 11: Sarah's absolutely right. "They taught me how to play this way, and now want me to play the nice girl. The nice girl game has fucked me." Nia mad they don't have the easy elim as well lol Johnny trying to pretend they would throw in the rookies is fucking hilarious. He talked about it being a game the entire last episode. He screwed over Leroy and Nia and jumped out knowing they wouldn't go in. I fucking hate Johnny. He's a complete hypocrite. Nany, Nia and Johnny ganging up on the girl who is the most chipper and least argumentative or confrontational of probably anyone who's been cast ever is definitely something. You guys played too many seasons with Frank. My favorite thing about the location changes is there is always someone who has to ask where the location is lol Johnny, I literally don't care if you're excited about something or not. This show is literally your career. You can deal with it. "Wish I could actually be happy I was here." what a whiny bitch. I'm with Jenna, down with seafood. Fuck seafood! The team who hasn't been in an elimination "I've worked my ass off to be here." You're already talking like a vet. Johnny "I can't deal with anyone else being smart or happy" Bananas The buddy up between Nany and Nia has surprised me the most. What?! lol How does Johnny just screw people over and ends up best friends again the next day. Is this Johnny/Evan/Kenny all over again? Sarah already lived through that saga. Jesus Nia... "Can we just eat and have one decent fucking day?" Of course Johnny would be the fucking one to say this shit. Talk all kinds of shit, encourage abuse, and then act like you're the victim and just want an easy day. Like you aren't the miserable stupid fuck making is miserable because oh no you have to go into an elimination. If Nia gets kicked I actually will be bummed. It's deserved, but I wanted to see Leroy/Nia vs Nany/Johnny...again. "Nia's gone, as if I didn't have enough to think about right now." Oh poor you Johnny. Let's somehow make Nia being taken away about you lol "I should be able to just relax right now." Mother fucker you should be home. You literally got eliminated weeks ago. You had a twist that got you back in the game and are now going back in to an elimination. You're not owed shit. I don't want Jay/Jenna in this final even the slightest bit, but fuck off Johnny. Fuck that entitled vet bullshit. "You've had six eliminations, anything can happen." Of course you'd count the elims to come back in that we didn't even get to see lol you faced some week ass rookies. Damn you Jay. Nany and Jenna falling in water would have been amazing. I really don't want Johnny to just have an easy in to the fucking final. "Nia crossed the line physically with someone and we take that seriously."....now Do you seriously bring in Leroy another partner right in front of Sarah's face when you pulled her out fucking twice? Once for the same fucking circumstances?!! Wooooooooooooow They brought back Theresa to be Leroys partner for just this elim. I'm kind of pissed, but it was also wanted, but also kind of glad? I have so many conflicted feelings. Fuck this noise in the face of Sarah. Kinda makes sense because she was already there. But at the same time she shouldn't get another chance. But she's going against another team who got another chance. I'm.....kind of ok with it? Mainly because it's against Johnny/Nany, If it was the same circumstance and Johnny/Nany hadn't come back before hand, I don't think I'd be as fine with it. Especially with Sarah sitting right there lmao Johnny fucking yelling "Owww" Karma's a bitch I think you've said Johnny? Or "He's fine, he's being a pussy"? Fuck Johnny! "That's yours Nany! That's your x!" Please get it, because I failed to. Seriously, when did the perception of Theresa shift over the last couple seasons? All of a sudden Theresa is seen as some challenge threat, where they said she was an upgrade to Nia, they talked her up the previous season as well. Hahaha I love TJ clearly not standing at a point where he can watch Theresa kick Nany in the face repeatedly lmao he could very clearly just step to that side and watch it all happen, but he decides to keep it as a blind spot hahaha I would have rather seen Leroy/Johnny both in the final vs Sarah, but god am I happy to see Johnny/Nany gone. Theresa's first final and yesterday she was at home. Geesh, I am not a fan of twists. "I would have expected my own mother to screw me over before Sarah." Johnny is such a peice of shit lmao He will literally die on any hill he talks up. I could honestly see Jay and Jenna quitting lmao Troll tolls! They didn't even bother giving Theresa a different jersey lol "I wanna go out a winner." Sarah talking about being done with The Challenge? Jay and Jenna are so fucked lmao "We are, of course, going to finish." Yeah....that exact moment makes me think you won't. I like that TJ still blows the horn as a necessity lol It can't be heard, no one can even see it, but sure let's blow the horn. EP 12: Jumping out of a helicopter to swim to a kayak would be fun as hell "I would shut up a lot of people who talk a lot of crap about me"-Theresa. Have you watched the last couple seasons? People talk you up a lot. You were getting picked first in Free Agents some times over Laurel. In both exes you were considered one of the strongest girls. I know people may not like you but I feel like the last couple seasons you've been considered one of the best competitors for the girls. Leroy being the one to get yelled at by the girl is hilarious. "I could buy tons of shoes...a house. I wouldn't have to talk to my family anymore." What?! Jenna why are you still on this season?! lol Hey, Nia called it. A word puzzle. Nooooo you left th....ok they ran back and screwed them up. Jesus almost made a rookie mistake of leaving the puzzle there solved. Hahaha cut back to Jay and Jenna talking about them working so hard to get here. Flashbacks to Sarah getting DQ'd because of her partners lol in the final where Leroy gets a partner given to him. What the hell is this path? lol cows now goats. God damn, Sarah and Jordan take those first glasses like champs. Damn! Quit calling it flip cup. It's not the same thing! lol They're talking about Leroy and Theresa being on the heels of Sarah and Jordan when they're just now getting to the cows. They aren't even to the goats yet lol They aren't on their heels at all. Yeah, Sarah and Jordan are gone and still no Leroy/Theresa Jay and Jenna fucking walking after the checkpoint lol wow I could get through almost all sick food things, but this weird half solid liquid would be a damn struggle for me lol I need a counter for how many times Jenna says "whatever" for no reason I can not imagine puking multiple times and forcing yourself to jog afterward lmao "Oh it's a drinking game." Jenna says before seeing whats in the cups I almost want to puke watching this. The role reversal with Jenna haha I will be SHOCKED if they aren't quitting. Shocked People saying "I've never quit" have almost certainly quit. "Are you crying? Are you serious?!" TJ, I love you. Jay/Jenna, I wanna give you shit because you took Johnny and Nany's spot in the final making it a really interesting final, but at the same time. Johnny kind of made his own bed. "You know how much shit twitter is going to give us?" Flashes twitter handles!!! I am dead. straight dead. "A TUBE!!!!!!!" First flip cup, now corn hole. That's a huge goddamned lead blown. There had to be some struggling that wasn't shown. Jesus. Theresa acting like she's shocked they're puking because of this caviar. 30 min time limit on this checkpoint doesn't seem to make sense if they have to run back for the rocks. Why even bother running and eating more tubes if you can just sit there and not tire yourself out? You don't even have to make it blatent, just struggle to eat the caviar. I feel like the editing isn't doing a great job, or just don't have much to work with lol They're trying to paint like Leroy and Theresa are right on the heels of Sara/Jordan, but every time they show Leroy/Theresa they're barely traveling at all, but when they're showing Sarah and Jordan, outside of her having to stop to shit, they have been going fast as hell. This sleeping situation lol Theresa talking TRUTH!!!!! Johnny don't give a fuck about you Leroy. You're an idiot. "What happened to Wes?" He got fucked by a twist... "So I guess they were a layup." That's fucking right! Five minute lead is pretty ridiculous. But I hate two day finals anyways, so... Didn't Leroy have trouble on a climb previously? Or am I just thinking of Zach? I'm not sure. Happy to see Sarah/Jordan get a win. I have a feeling this reunion will be really interesting. Hope it has a good host. If anything, this season has made me like Leroy more. Even though he got played and fails to realize it. I completely forgot CT/Diem were on this season. Reunion: Weird to have Nia on the reunion? Fucking Nia starting already. Jesus christ. Johnny is such a whiny bitch. "I have never played that game." What in the hell lmao Johnny trying to have the high ground here is hilarious. "She will never win again because she branded herself a traitor." I love LOVE that Johnny has been able to shake off how he played with Kenny/Evan lmao The difference between Johnny and Sarah is that Sarah had the balls to just straight up make the move where Johnny just sits in the back while he convinces others to do it for him. "Sexual harassment usually does that." Zach with the perfect statement on Nia. Why the fuck is she on the reunion? They just wanted someone on Johnny's side to talk shit to Sarah? "This is the first season I've ever had any drama with girls." You came in to the house with previous drama. You can't come in to the season and immediately call out Theresa if there already wasn't a past. There may not have been a lot of drama, but that's basically a lie. "There was a catalyst that got her to that point." Can we cut to an episode before where Johnny was calling Nia a fucking psycho and that she was off her rocker? lmao That's befor the supposed catalyst that Johnny is trying to excuse for Nia. This is the type of shit of WHY I HATE JOHNNY it's so god damn clear how he plays, but he fucking tries to bitch about how other people play. Johnny outside of the house or on the face of everything he will be loyal as possible. He will defend people, like NIA, he will trash anyone who goes against any of his people, but he will turn around and have Jordan put Leroy/Nia in the elimination and act like it's just the smart move. He catches no fucking shit for it. It doesn't fucking stick to him because he isn't the one doing it. He's a spineless hypocrite. Fuck this noise of trying to excuse Nia. Nia even being on the reunion is ridiculous but everyone standing up for her is absurd. They're mad at sarah and jordan so they'll excuse anything. Wes really seems like he leaves the challenge house and just lets go of everything. He comes to these reunions and barely says a word. Haha Everyone saying the layup was smart, but everyone mad at Sarah for using it. That makes sense lmao "Everyone got a second chance and I went home. Even her(Theresa) Yeah Wes, you kinda got screwed. Johnny HATES Wes getting all this praise for playing a great game. Johnny saying Wes promises everyone everything and then gets them eliminated one by one his hilarious considering CT(I'm pretty sure it was him) said that about Johnny's game in a previous season. Was really about to wonder if they were going to mention Knight and Diem. They kind of do them dirty only having them at the last 5 minutes and just having the biggest asshole at the reunion talk about Knight. Overall Season thoughts: Kind of a middling to lower season for me. Half the cast was complete filler and uninteresting. Rookies weren't only bad they just had no real fight or drive in them at all. I don't like twists in these games at all and to see one handled so poorly made me hate it even more. Nothing was shown of the exile at all, we as viewers didn't even know what was going to happen with them until suddenly Johnny/Nany show up. It also ultimately did nothing but make one episode interesting and get Wes out of the house. Literally every person on the season got a second chance but Wes lol that's just hilarious and fucked up. That being said, I think Wes' game strategy is boring. It made most of the season boring and likely wouldn't have worked if there was even a little more people on the season who were competent. I still hate Johnny and I'm still completely mystified when people ask about the Johnny hate or not understanding it. I seriously don't understand how you see how Johnny plays or portrays himself, but then see how he describes how he plays and portrays himself and not see a huge degree of difference between the two. He's a complete hypocrite and two faced. He will yell until he is blue in the face about being loyal and how everyone else is playing a dirty game, but he's also the same person who talks about Leroy/Nia needing to go in to beat Wes and then throwing the comp to not be the one to have to do it. He's a complete bitch and I am so damn tired of him. At least Sarah had the balls to make the move of putting him in the dome herself. She didn't throw the comp so someone else would have to do it. If you were so worried about the rookies not making the finals then why didn't you say the rookies needed to go against Wes? Oh was it because getting revenge on Wes was more important than your fake morals and making sure your alliance is safe?
It was a beautiful day in North Dakota. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I had just puked all over myself. Again. You’d think that after fifteen years of living with chronic illness, I’d be used to my body. But no, cystic fibrosis has a mind of its own. The worst thing? As I lay in bed, my stupid bag IV bag was blocking the view of my gymnastics medals and trophies. Not that I stood any shot of making the team this year. Freshman year I was considered a protégée; this year I’m the freak who fell asleep in the locker room. That’s CF— one minute I feel superhuman (or at least human), but the next minute I feel so tired I can barely run through my routines. Then we have today. I’m fairly certain I’m not going to survive long enough to compete for a spot on the competition roster. My head pounded as the sunlight hit my eyes. “Sara, I need you!” Like magic, Sara was already pulling the blankets off my body. “I’m here Sean, I’m here,” she said as she loaded my blankets into a laundry bag. “I think we need to get you to the hospital.” “No, please. Just give me a few more days on the IV.” “Sean, it’s been over a week. Your fever has only gotten worse.” I began to cry, sobbing into my pillow. All I ever wanted was to feel normal in my own skin. Because being normal comes with happiness, right? I wanted to fall in love, I wanted to get married, maybe even have a family. I kicked my IV just enough to see my trophies: evidence of the alternate reality version of myself. There was a photo of me in freshman year, on the rings. Even with my long hair whipping all over my face, I nailed my gymnastics routine like a rock star. I was the youngest person to ever win an individual gold at the state level. I wiped tears from my eyes as Sara handed me a clean shirt. Who am I kidding? I’m going to die alone in a hospital bed. “Don’t cry.” Sara kissed my cheek. “You know, with how light your eyes are, you look like an ice-zombie.” “What?” I instantly perked up. Sara always knew how to make me smile. “Once we get to the hospital, I want to braid your fairy-princess hair.” I laughed. For the record, I do not have fairy-princess hair. I have surfer hair, long blonde waves that cascade down my back. Hair destined for a dive into the Pacific Ocean. Sometimes when I’m in the shower I’ll stand under the flow, letting the water wash over my face. In my mind I’m in California, emerging from beneath the waves. I look nothing like Sara, my remarkable sister. I like to call her my twin since we’re the same age—not that we have anything in common, beyond sharing a room. I’m six-foot tall, which doesn’t help much when your sport of choice is gymnastics. I have my meds to thank for that; for the first fourteen years of my life I was prescribed human growth hormones to give my sick body a fighting chance. While my adorable, amazing sister was a brilliant science nerd, destined to change the world. I was snapped back to reality by a coughing fit. I could feel the mucus trying to come out, but my lungs were seizing up. I reached for my inhaler. The medicine helped relax my lungs enough to take in air, but now the room was spinning. “Sara, I don’t think I can make it out of bed.” Sara was already gone. She quickly returned with our mother, who lifted me out of bed and helped me to the door. “Sara, disconnect his IV, make note of how much is left in the bag, and then I need you to grab my keys and start the car.” I kind of passed out just as we got going, but at least I was lying with my head in Sara’s lap. That was about as comfortable as I was going to get. She was cradling my head in her arms. Although small, my sister was always my hero. She could do it all: administer IVs; monitor my blood sugar; and even perform chest physiotherapy to loosen the mucus in my lungs. Mom was brave, too. She always had been, from the day she’d chosen to adopt an abandoned baby with CF. Then having to raise us on her own when Dad died on a disaster relief trip to the Philippines. I could feel Sara stroking my face. I looked up to see tears in her eyes. With fifteen years of caring for me, my illness affected her as much as it affected me. I tried to cheer her up. “So, are you going to braid my fairy-princess hair?” She gave me a weak grin. “Let’s hold off on that until you get a bed.” Less than an hour later, I was admitted to the ICU. I couldn’t stop coughing. The port on my side was reopened in an attempt to drain my lungs manually. I had to be put on oxygen and blood thinners to relieve the pressure in my chest. I’m told that the fever spiked into brain damage territory. My antibiotic levels were adjusted: different amounts, different combinations. The nurse brought in a blanket that appeared to be made of hundreds of cold packs fused together. On the third night in the ICU, the dreaded words “breathing tube” were mentioned. I hated breathing tubes. They were unbearably painful and made it impossible to speak. I grabbed Mom’s hand. “Please, I can fight this. You know I can. I just need you to believe in me.” I wanted so badly to get out of bed. I wanted to get back to training, to feel the burn of strength in my muscles. To feel my body pushing itself towards greatness, not just to survive. Hell, freshman year I trained and competed with a fractured wrist and three bruised ribs after getting the living crap kicked out of me. That was how bad-ass I could be when CF wasn’t hijacking my body. Mom turned to the doctor. “What are the other options?” The tall, elderly man looked confused. “I strongly recommend a breathing tube, just until we can get the fever stabilized.” That was the easy answer for him; put the kid on a breathing tube and come back to him later. And I sure as fuck did not want to be tethered to a machine. The way I figured it, the fewer machines I was reliant on, the faster I was going to recover. I wanted to get back to training or I wanted to die. I had little use for the gray area in between. Mom shook her head vigorously. “No. Put him under sedation. It’ll give his body a chance to rest.” “With all due respect, Mrs. Foster—” “You listen to me—that boy is more than numbers on a chart.” “I know this is difficult—” “He’s my son!” She squeezed my hand. Sara was already holding my other hand. “Sean’s on full oxygen and he’s still breathing on his own. I’m choosing to have faith in him.” The doctor quietly left the room. Mother kissed my forehead. “I love you. And I’ll always believe in you.” The next day, the fever went down to a better, yet still unsafe level. I suffered a seizure due to lack of oxygen to my brain, prompting the doc’s insistence on a breathing tube. That, or a tracheotomy. I was strong, but would not survive the ordeal unscarred. Mother looked to Sara. “Tracheotomy,” Sara quickly answered. The doctor would be cutting a hole in my throat, inserting a tube that would attach to a ventilator and function as an alternative means of supplying oxygen to my weakened lungs. The process would be much more invasive and painful, but at least I would still be able to speak. By my eighth day in the hospital, I was too weak to remain conscious for more than few hours a day. My lungs were failing and if the infection spread to my heart, I could very well be dead in a few months. I stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about the ache in my throat or the pounding in my head. I seemed a little dead from the neck down. A soft snore made me look to Sara. She was slumped in the seat by my bed with a book resting on her lap. I couldn’t make out the title, but it looked science-y and intimidating. She’d been with me all week, having been given permission by her school to study at the hospital. It seemed to take minutes of effort to coordinate my arm muscles, but I managed to reach over and nudge her awake. “Go to school tomorrow, please.” “Why?” she whispered. “I want stay with you. I want to be by your side when you get out of this bed. That’s the way it’s always been!” “Go to school,” I repeated. I knew what she meant. Whenever I was hospitalized, she was always by my side. “It’s not worth it for you to stay.” I didn’t dare look in her direction. She gripped my hand. “I have nothing to look forward to at school. You’re all I have.” I sighed. Sadly, she was probably correct. Her vigilance in caring for me didn’t exactly do much for her social life. “Maybe a miracle will be waiting,” I said as I yanked my hand away, a little ruder then I should have. “Or maybe you’ll die in your sleep.” Sara took a deep breath, shook her head, and left the room. The next day, Sara didn’t show up at nine as usual, which was good— it meant she’d probably gone to school. Playing hooky was like sacrilege to her. Some part of me saw this as God throwing me a life line. A little after five she scampered in, taking a seat on the plastic chair by my bed. “Sean, are you awake?” “Is that my miracle?” I asked motioning my head to the doorway, which framed a tall, supermodel-like silhouette. Sarah turned my room lights on for me. I squinted, but then couldn’t stop staring as the girl walked towards the bed. The stunningly beautiful Latina wore her hair in a pixie cut with bangs sweeping over her eyes. She lovingly caressed my hand. “Hello, Jenny-Q.” Even with her new look, I would recognize her beauty anywhere. Up close I could see her caramel skin, high cheekbones, pouty lips and large brown eyes that sparkled with hints of gold. “Hey, Sean,” she whispered. “Sorry, I’m so nervous. I didn’t even know if you’d remember me. I have no idea what to say. I know if my dad was here, he’d try to get us to pray, or some shit like that.” “Remember you? You saved my life. I don’t know what I was thinking, that day. I should’ve run.” “No shit,” Sara muttered. She still hadn’t really forgiven me for talking back to Richie Cross like I was on some kind of suicide mission. “I knew what to expect, after my run-in with Lisa,” I admitted, not meeting Sara’s eyes. “Richie wasn’t about to let me get away with screwing around with his girl. It had to be me coming on to her, because Lisa would never cheat on him, no.” “Why I thought I’d get on better with that douchebag than Lisa had, I’ll never know.” Jen rolled her eyes. “I still can’t believe he called you an ass-cancer.” “Yeah, well. I shouldn’t have told him I had cancer. It just seemed easier than explaining Cystic Fibrosis to a dumbfuck.” Sarah folded her arms. “I get that, but you didn’t do yourself any favors with your comeback.” She glared at Jen, who was giggling. I’d told Richie that I’d rather be an ass-cancer than the only black guy at White Creek with a micro-penis, and then came the beat-down. I remembered the ‘fight’ clear as day. I’d lifted my chin, daring Richie and his gang of dickwads to attack. In the moment, I honestly felt like I could take whatever they had to give, but the blows came too fast and too hard. I could hear people laughing, even cheering. My efforts to shield my face were proving pointless as my attackers dragged my body away from the lockers and started stomping my head. It was when I’d started to succumb to the pain that I heard screams and voices coming to my defense. One by one, the attackers stepped off, but before I could start to feel the relief, Richie grabbed me by the hair and blew cigarette smoke directly into my blood-covered face. It was Jenny-Q who’d rummaged in my bag and helped me with my inhaler, preventing a choking spiral that would’ve ended me in minutes. But it got her slapped hard. Through eyes which were rapidly swelling shut, I saw Richie hauling her down the hallway by her arm, railing at her about her lack of respect. “Yo! Earth to Sean!” Sara said, shaking my arm. “Were you sleeping with your eyes open?” “Sorry.” I smiled at Jenny, still feeling guilty that I couldn’t do a damn thing about what Richie did to her after she’d defended me. “I never forgot your courage, Jenny-Q. Hell, I didn’t even get to thank you. Where did you go?” She shrugged. “I took a little ‘hiatus’ from school. Anyway, like I told Sara, Jenny-Q was a slut with super-short shorts and over-processed ringlets. Now I’m just Jen.” “I like the pixie cut,” I told her. “New era, new image, right?” “Yeah, that, and also I used so much hair product that I gave myself a scalp infection.” Covering her embarrassment, she grabbed the bed controls and took it upon herself to move my body to an upright position. Her fingers brushed a lock of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I just want to see those beautiful eyes.” I held her gaze for a long moment, trying to figure out her body language. It seemed like she was being more than gentle—I felt a little like she was hitting on me. Sara glanced back from the muted TV. She’d been surfing the channels. “Jen knows all the cool hospital tricks, like how to get nonfamily into the ICU.” I grinned. “How come?” “Her brother died of cancer.” I flinched at my sister’s total lack of tact and looked into Jen’s beautiful eyes. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” “Yeah, Cam died of liver cancer when he was eighteen, and I was eleven. Neither of my parents were viable donors.” She looked at the ceiling as if looking to God. “I was conceived on the off-chance I could save him. Cam developed tumors in his liver when he was two years old. All my parents’ time and energy was put into giving him a little… longer.” Sara blinked. “Wow, that’s kind of harsh. I know my mom loves Sean more than me, but—” “Sara, that’s not true,” I snapped. I hoped she was being sarcastic, but wasn’t sure. Things had been a little ropey between her and Mom for a while. Jen raised her hand. “The point is, Sara, you love him too. It was the same for me and Cam. There’s a story he used to tell me about the day I was born. I was passed off to my grandma because my parents needed to check on Cam in the ICU. Grandma thought it was inappropriate for a new mother to be away from her baby, so she took it upon herself to bring me to the ICU and put me into Cam’s arms. He told me that in that moment he felt like a superhero because he had someone to watch over, someone to love.” “Yeah, I’ll bet.” I could only imagine what that felt like, to be suddenly given the chance to be someone’s hero. Part of me wondered, at what point in his short life Cam realized that Jen was born only to serve as spare parts. To me, that would be the most heartbreaking aspect. To know that not only were you destined to die, you couldn’t protect the one person you cared about most. Jen’s voice was breaking. “When my mom tried to take the baby away, Cam cried. He was the only person who ever loved me. The day he died, I wanted to die too.” I cupped her face in my hands, looking into her eyes. “You’re too beautiful to cry.” Sara giggled. “You two are so cute together, like something out of a magazine.” Jen stuck out her tongue. “Teen Vogue or Hustler?” “Vanity Fair, at least their gorgeous supermodels keep their clothes on.” “I can roll with that, but I’ll never be a model.” Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t do false modesty.” “No, really…” Jen lifted her shirt slightly, revealing a large scar on her otherwise perfect abs. “A chunk of my eight-year-old liver bought my brother a few more years.” I stared. “Wow. That’s quite the war wound.” “It’s a permanent reminder of how I failed him.” “You didn’t fail him,” Sara said. “Medical science failed him. That, and not enough people walking marathons while wearing colorful ribbons.” Jen covered her mouth as she laughed. “You are so bad, Sara.” I put my arm around Jen, pulling her close. “Can I touch your scar?” “Yeah, I guess.” I slid my hand over her abs, feeling the raised tissue. She released a soft sigh. Taking courage, I moved her hand towards my drainage port, but her hand recoiled. She smiled too brightly and pulled back, pulling her shirt down. “Anyway! I know how to hook up a gaming system to a crappy wall-mounted TV in Iowa, how to sneak a refill of ice chips from the unlocked faculty break room in Nebraska, how to smuggle in outside food in New Mexico, and—most importantly—how to do most of the nurse’s job.” “Uh… good?” “And pushing the little red button is a fifty-fifty shot at best, am I right? Nurse call button, my ass.” I forced myself to laugh at Jen’s joke. It was so cool that she hated hospitals just as much as I did, but I was still stung from misreading her. She got up and headed for the door, all smiles, but seeming like she needed to get out quickly. I slumped in bed, really needing her to give me a second chance. “Hey, do you need to go already?” Jen smiled. “Probably best if I do right now. I’ll be back. I promise.” Chapter 2 Jen returned as promised, and for the next few weeks, I had the time of my life. Jen would accompany Sara to the hospital. We would all talk about poetry, philosophy, and why PC gaming was better than any console package the major companies could put out. They would get my homework and help me complete assignments as I slowly regained my strength. “Why do I need four years of math to graduate?” I groaned. Geometry was a little better than algebra since it was the art of measuring shapes, as opposed to trying to find numbers that didn’t exist. “If I’m passing geometry, then it’s not that difficult.” Jen walked me through each question, massaging my shoulders, while Sara worked on my English and history essays. “You have to read Romeo and Juliet,” Sara said, tossing Jen a DVD of the late nineties punk version to put into her laptop. Jen smirked. “I cannot believe you own this movie.” “It’s the better one,” Sara pointed out. “Colorful costumes, special effects, and they still used the same script.” I laughed. “It’s frickin’ Shakespeare—they can’t change the script!” I was out of the ICU, the infection completely cleared. I had my own room in the main pediatric unit, another hospital-survival trick Jen had mastered. She explained that getting the right room was a similar process to getting the best table at a restaurant; if you could convince the staff you wouldn’t be much trouble, you could earn yourself a heavy dose of privacy. Jen and Sara snuck in candy and fast food while Mom sat in a corner, working on her laptop. She would occasionally look up and see the three of us laughing. Whenever our eyes met, I could see her smiling. Most importantly, unlike in the ICU, visitors could stay overnight. Jen often texted her father in the evening: “Spending the night with Sean and his sister. Their mother will be present.” I thought that was weirdly formal, but it wasn’t for me to say. Jen cuddled next to me in my bed (which was a strict hospital no-no), but Sara was a good human alert system. She was a light sleeper. If Sara detected movement towards our room from any approaching nurse, she’d spring out of her seat, waking both me and Jen. On more than one occasion I would awake alone, seeing Jen and Sara asleep on chairs. There was no way Jen was never caught. So, I assumed my two best friends were just that expertly skilled at talking their way out of incriminating situations. It took me a while to realize that Jen never got any reply from her father. Ever. “I guess I should just take that to mean, ‘whatever, get home eventually,’ right?” Jen said as she rested her elbows on the bed railing. “Maybe your texts aren’t going through?” “You don’t know my father.” “Ok then, let’s get to know our dads. I’ll start. My dad worked for the Red Cross.” “Worked? Did he retire?” “He passed away when Sean and I were three,” Sara answered. “We mostly know him through photos and stories. I wish I had more memories of him. So, what does your dad do for a living?” “Both my parents are in real estate.” I noticed that occasional, somber expression taking root once again. “Always? Since the dawn of time?” Sara joked. “No. Before that, my father was in the military.” “What did he do in the military?” “I don’t know—the usual soldier stuff.” Clearly, there was more to the story. Was he disabled? I knew that wasn’t any of my business, but she was pretty open about her brother’s death. I grabbed her phone and hit call. Jen grabbed it back and smacked me in the face. “Ow!” I touched my sore eye. “Was that necessary?” “Be grateful you’re already in the hospital.” “Are you seriously telling me I can’t call your dad?” Jen fiddled with her screen and then pulled up a picture. “This is my father, Master Sergeant Diego Miguel Quinto.” Sara made her way over. “I want to see!” Jen’s father was a muscular man with a tattooed chest. His dark eyes looked directly at the camera with an intimidating gaze. I blinked. “Woah. He’s… he’s not very… small.” Sara laughed. “He’s not that scary. He’s actually kind of hot, like Benjamin Bratt—muy caliente.” Jen scrubbed her face like she was trying to soap the image from her eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about. Oh, by the way, caliente means spicy, so unless you want to eat him—” “What if I do?” Jen shook her head as she put her phone away. “You two are a bunch of children.” I had to agree with Sara; the guy was good-looking, clearly the source of Jen’s good genes. She had his dark eyes, slender nose, and high cheekbones. They even had similar lips. Part of me wanted to meet the guy just to see if he had Jen’s smile. The days went by quickly with my two best friends by my side. I was healthier than I’d been for a long time. The doctor even authorized the removal of my neck trach. When I wasn’t trying to catch up with work from class, I enjoyed a little downtime with Jen while Sara caught a few zees on the mattress in the corner of the room. Jen and I liked watching movies on her phone. One evening, we were following a television show where contestants had to make meals out of a random section of items, like hot dogs with caviar and cotton candy. Though my cystic fibrosis usually did a number on my appetite, I watched the chefs at work, marinating and grilling. One chef even wrapped his cut of meat in puff pastry. I was becoming genuinely hungry. On another preparation table, the contestants were forced to cook bison with quinoa, saffron cookies, and guava. “Sean, if you stop drooling on my shoulder, I’ll get you a candy bar.” “I want to try bison someday. I think it would be like beef but better.” “Same here, except that I hate the idea of death; I hate giant roasted animals—” “What, like blue whales? Mammoths?” Jen rolled her eyes. “No, I mean whole chicken, whole fish, or whole anything-that-looks-like-a-corpse. I love how dead cow is called beef, and the dead baby cow is called veal. Helps us humans forget they were ever living creatures, or that they’d ever experienced thought or emotion.” “Fish is fish and chicken is chicken,” I pointed out. “And thanks to you, I’ll have to fall asleep contemplating the deep thoughts of farm animals.” “Sorry, not sorry.” “I really want to try bison. How are you with steaks?” Jen smiled. “Okay-ish. I guess I’ll take a vow to eat bison with you someday.” She ran her fingers through my hair. Jen’s face was already so close to mine. She turned and our lips touched, once then twice. I closed my eyes. I had kissed a lot of girls, but Jen was different. Her touch was pure love. “Open your eyes, Sean,” Jen whispered, caressing my face. “I want to see those beautiful eyes.” I obliged, cupping her face as our lips met for one long sexy kiss. Jen pulled herself onto my lap. She slipped her hands down my shoulders as we made out in my bed. Her abs tightened as I caressed her waist. My hands looked huge on her body. Suddenly, Jen grabbed my wrist so hard I jumped. “Did I do something wrong?” “No, no but…” She started to cry. “I can’t do this yet. I’m so sorry.” Not knowing what to say, I pulled her down to lie on the bed with me, her body resting on mine as she sobbed into my shoulder. “There’s something I have to tell you.” “About Richie Cross?” I asked. Jen nodded, but didn’t say anything more. I cleared my throat. “You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want.” “I… I do. I need to.” I gripped her hand, and then still for what seemed like an age while she described how the guy had made her life a living hell. By the time Jen was done talking, she was hoarse and I was struck dumb—dumb enough to manage little more than a vague wave when she hopped off the bed and said she was going to get a drink. Sara went with her, trailing behind like she didn’t want to leave Jen alone, but didn’t want to crowd her, either. She’d woken up while Jen was crying and heard everything. The whole story made me feel sick to the gut, even sicker than the cheaper-than-shit jello in the tiny pot by my bedside. She’d taken a risk sticking up for me on the day that Richie and his crew tried to beat the last living daylights out of me, and the risk had cost her dearly. I had no idea what I’d done to earn her trust. I didn’t even know what to feel: relief that she didn’t blame me for Richie’s treatment of her after the day she’d stopped him from beating me, or guilt for my part in making the asshole turn on her the way he did. She hadn’t dumped him. That wasn’t an option; she was scared. Her association with Richie had driven away pretty much anyone at school who might rescue her from him. Nobody wanted to experience his rage after the example he’d made of me. She’d played meek-little-mouse to keep him happy until the inevitable escalation occurred; he sexually assaulted her and dumped her off on her parents’ lawn. I closed my eyes, as if that would erase the mental image of her being pitched out of a car, unconscious. It didn’t work. Not even fantasizing about hiring a hit man to beat eighteen shades of crap out of Richie made me feel any better. “Sorry to disturb you, honey.” The soft voice made me jump. A blood pressure cuff started tightening around my bicep. I looked up to see the night-shift nurse giving me one of her pitying smiles. I quirked one back at her and pretended to try to go back to sleep, just grateful she didn’t ask why I was upset. After a few moments, her footsteps retreated. I clenched my fists under the blankets. Following the assault, Jen’s father had tried to do what I wanted to do so badly—smack Richie in the face. He’d confronted the asshole, taking him down with a punch and then busting Richie’s car up a little, which simply led to Richie’s parents filing counter-charges for assault on their son. Telling me about her father’s response to the situation, Jen had been so venomous about his actions that I was almost a little scared at her anger towards him. I couldn’t blame her for being mad that he’d nearly undermined the investigation into Richie’s assault on her; she needed those charges to stick. If her life was ever going to be the same again, he had to be identified as the guilty party and removed from school. In the end, it was Richie who shot himself in the foot. Confident that the investigation into him had gotten nowhere, he posted the video of them having “sex.” When that video hit social media, I was still out of school, recovering from Richie’s beating, so I never got to see it. Thankfully, not too many other people did either, because he was reported by another member of his supposedly closed group and the film was taken down and saved for evidence within a couple of hours of being posted. The time stamp on the video matched up with Jen’s account of the assault, confirming his guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt, but no charges were ever pressed. Jen’s mother had accepted a six-figure hush payment from Nathan Cross while Diego was away on business. Fast, loud feet stamped across the tile floor in my room, startling me. The girls were back from the cafeteria and it looked like they’d been fighting. “What’s up?” I croaked. Sara looked indignant and shocked at the same time. “I somehow made her mad.” “Somehow?” My mouth went dry watching the two of them getting louder and louder. I swallowed to get spit back in my mouth. It didn’t work. “Guys—” “I just asked Jen why she was so pissed at her dad when it was her mother who accepted the payoff.” “This isn’t rocket science, Sara. He let my mom take a payout in exchange for Richie’s full exoneration. How did that help me? My folks got the money, but I got to remain the school slut. And you know what’s just as bad? Richie still has a clean record. He could go to college and do this to another girl, and get off—again.” “You can’t do anything about that—” “But my parents could’ve done something! Dad should’ve made Mom give the money back.” “Well… you did say your mom was kinda forceful.” Jen slammed her coke can on my bedside table. “That is so not the point! He wasn’t even around to stop this whole pay-off shit from happening. I was in the hospital for a whole week after what Richie did, but Dad only visited that first night when I woke up. Where was he after that? On some ‘urgent’ business trip, that’s where.” “Well, maybe he urgently needed to tell his senior people why he needed time off work,” Sara pressed. “Some employers are jerks. You have to shove police reports in their faces to make them understand there’s a crisis.” “He’s in real estate, he works for himself!” “What about his clients? He has to keep the business going, right?” “Oh, just… don’t!” Jen paced the room, her fists clenched. For a horrible second, it looked like she was going to storm out and not come back. As much as I loved Sara, sometimes she didn’t know when to quit playing Devil’s advocate. I cleared my throat and fixed Sara with the calmest gaze I could manage. “It’s her situation, Sis. She knows more about it than we do.” Sara shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… I know what it’s like to not be able to help someone as much as I want to, and I figured he probably felt the same way when trying to deal with wealthy shitbags like the Cross family.” Jen caught her anxious glance, and released a long breath. She then made one of those exaggerated “om” gestures with her hands. “I’m really sorry,” Sara insisted. “I was just trying to help you see that maybe your dad didn’t want to neglect you.” “All right,” Jen finally said. “I wasn’t trying to rip you a new one, but I need to ask you a favor. Just… remember that I’ve seen every side of my father. You’ve never even met him.” “Sure.” Sara looked contrite. “I get it.” As the girls sat down together, sharing cautious smiles, I swear my blood pressure came down about twenty points. I grinned at Jen. “It’s not Sara’s fault she likes Diego so much. She’s depraved and lusts for anyone who looks like Benjamin Bratt.” Sarah slugged me in the arm. Jen finally cracked a smile. “If anything, he looks like Al Pacino in Scarface—if Scarface were a disabled vet who worked out nearly every day.” “Your father is disabled?” I asked. He certainly didn’t appear disabled. But then again neither did I. Especially on my good days. “A war injury,” she explained. “He gets really bad muscle spasms in his back.” Sara looked to Jen. “But he’s able to work out? In that picture he looks ripped.” “The more he maintains his strength, the less his body deteriorates.” I held Jen in my arms. “Jen, I love you. I still want to come to your house and meet him for myself.” Jen shook her head. “It’s not my dad I’m worried about. He knows how to turn on the charm when he has to. It’s my mom. She’s… she hates anything with a dick.” “As the only person in this room with a dick, I’m insisting you explain that statement.” “She hates my dad, that much is certain. And although she hated Richie, she was more than happy to sit back and watch things go wrong, just so she could call me a disappointment. And then there’s your disability.” “Your mother hates disabled people?” I asked. “After my brother died, she just lost it. She’s in mourning every moment of the day. I can just see her taking one look at you and feeling threatened by your looks, your talent—all despite your illness. She’s going to try to knock you down just to prove that she can, and I don’t want to witness that.” “I’ve been knocked down plenty of times.” Jen looked up at me. “If you guys want to push into my private life—” “I’m not doing that.” “Not taking ‘no’ for an answer is pushing, Sean.” Jen huffed a big breath and looked back at me. “If you want me to let you in, then you let me in.” I frowned. “I have been.” “What did Lisa Anders do to you?” I felt a shiver down my spine. “You know what she did to me, the whole school does.” “Yours is the only side of the story I haven’t heard.”
Old Tagalog Food and Cooking Terms from Historical Dictionary Pt. 2
Continued from Pt. 1 Recipes/Styles and Terms Related to Cooking Loto (luto)- cocer cualquiera cosa/to cook anything. Eg. Ang niloloto co ay balatong “I am cooking mongo beans.” Note: The term ‘balatong’, same in other languages like Ilocano, is the native Tagalog term for beans (it is used in this dictionary also), including ‘munggo’. Blust recreated it in Proto-PH as balatun with other various forms valatung, balatum, baldtong. Unfortunately can’t link the Google Book, but here’s anotherlink ‘balatung = mung beans’. Combar (kumbad ???)-yesca para sacar fuego. es la lana que sacan de la palma llamada cauong/tinder to make fire. It is from the ‘wool’ they take from the kaong palm. Note: ‘Wool’ likely meant the fuzzy fibers taken from palms including coconut that are highly flammable, used as kindler. Alipuyo (alimpuyo)- quemarse lo que se esta cociendo; por entrar la llama, dentro de la vasija/burn what is cooking; for the flame to enter the cooking vessel. Note: The modern meaning/form of this term is ‘alimpuyo’ ‘whirlwind’, like meant that one is blowing/fanning flame too hard, it makes fire hotter and thus burn the food. Quilao (kilaw)- carne en vinagre/meat in vinegar. Eg. Magquilao tayo “Let’s make kilaw.” Note: In Bergano’s Pampango dictionary the term is used for ‘venadillos’ ‘zervatillos’ ie young deedoe, as well as for ‘cachorillo’ ‘small puppy’. Likely, without me checking modern linguistic dictionaries, that it is surely cognate with ‘hilaw’ ie ‘raw’. Quilauin (kilawin)- carne o pescado en adobo. Cortan la carne a pedacitos, o el pescado; y luego calientan un poco de vinagre; y bien caliente se lo echan encima; y alli le aplican sal y chile, y a esto llaman quilauing boro la salada/Meat or fish in adobo/marinade. They cut the meat or the fish into pieces, then they heat up a little vinegar, when its very hot they throw it (the vinegar) on it (the meat). Then they apply salt and chili, and this is called quilauing boro (kilawing buro). Eg. Ualang lamangcating sariua at pauang binoro. “There was no fresh meat to be found because they cured/salted/preserved all of it.” Quilauin (kilawin)-adobo toman sal, vinagre, y chile, y lo echan en la carne, pescado, o tripas de venado; y asi medio crudo lo comen...este mismo genero de adobo sirve para las yerbas como ensalada/marinade (adobo) (whence) they take salt, vinegar, and chili, and pour it into meat, fish, or venison intestines; so they eat it half raw...this marinade is used for herbs to be served as a salad. Arrobong babuy (adobong baboy)- Adobo de puerco/marinaded pork. Note: This is an example, not an actual entry. Almost all entry for ‘adobo’ is described as ‘kilawin’. Adobo is a term obviously borrowed by Filipinos meaning ‘marinade’. There’s a note in the dictionary that Filipinos tend to confuse the r and d sounds; the author stated that there were no beginning R sounds. The closest to beginning R are actually D sound, and when they pronounce D sounds in the middle ie Spanish terms, they substitute it with R sounds Ie the early version of the word ‘adobo’ in Filipino most likely sounded like ‘arrobo’. This is also mentioned by other authors, for example Alcina speaking about Visayan (Waray-waray), that letters L, D, R are sometimes ‘mixed up’. Another example in this dictionary given was alac na arrobado which he translated as vino adobado (spiced wine). From de Nola’s (1525) book: “The sollo, which is the sturgeon, is large fish and has very good meat like veal, and there it is eaten in marinade with its watered-down white vinegar,...salt,...oregano, and crushed garlic... vinegar...to whoever is eating it, they can add crushed cloves and crushed ginger, and with this marinade you can eat [it] grilled or otherwise in a different manner (using) a casserole, and (sic, once) cooked [sic, thoroughly[ it can be eaten (sic) and boiled (?)...” He also noted various ‘adobado’ (all they have in common is vinegar---I used that sturgeon recipe specifically because it mentioned garlic, many of them didn't use it) recipes listed such as potage de adobo de gallina/chicken [it listed sugar and cinnamon topping, as well as fruits like pear, crushed almonds, and bread soaked in vinegar as ingredients]...de carnero/mutton adobado, and cabrito/baby goat adobado. IMHO from such small comparative sources to sample (I really wished there were more Mexican and Filipino sources, ideally 18th and 19th c. to compare), the Filipino dish today called adobo isn’t native ie pre-colonial but not foreign either. Meaning to say that it evolved from native dishes and cooking style during colonial period incorporating European and colonial style from the Americas (laurel leaves, black pepper) and later on Chinese influences (eg. soy sauce). Arguably what’s often not talked about is the strong Chinese influences on this dish since many versions of this dish use black beans ie tausi (Kapampangan kilayin and Visayan humbang---a dish clearly borrowed from Chinese style---use this ingredient). Another thing not mentioned is parallel evolution of another dish called paksiw, which probably evolved from kilawin being cooked but not undergoing transformation of using soy sauce. If I was to guess, kilawin evolved from mostly raw dish into a thoroughly cooked dish (again eg. Kilayin from Pampanga is a good example of what it probably looked in this stage) during Spanish period incorporating laurel leaves and peppercorns as seasoning along the way. By the mass arrival of Chinese (second wave starting in the early 19th) started to get influences of Chinese style braised meat recipes incorporating soy sauce and some in versions, black beans. Lacking all the primary sources needed to prove it, that’s what I imagine Filipinos created the modern adobo. I think it’s a perfect testament of how Filipino food and culture really evolved through colonial period. Salabsaban- medio crudo pescado etc. que asaron o cocienron de pronto/medium raw/seared fish etc. Fish that was quickly (ie not thoroughly) cooked. Hirhiran/hihiran (hidhidan/hihidan), or sausauan (sawsawan)-salsa o pebre, para la carne/dipping sauce or pebre (vinegar based sauce) for the meat. Note: Pebre (‘pepper’ in Catalan) is a sauce made out of vinegar, saffron, peppers and cloves. Variations of this sauce in the Spanish colonies often times including 'local' plants like tomato eg Mexican pico de gallo is a modern derivative of this type of salsa. More evidence is the fact that in other Filipino cuisines like Romblon’s ‘sarsa’ is a type of steamed shrimp mixed with vegetables (onion, garlic and tomato)...before steaming, the mixture looks like pebre ie Mexican salsa. Salsa is where the term ‘sarsa’ ‘sauce’ in Tagalog came from, although today it’s very restrictive in its meaning ie ‘sauce’. Pebre in Nola’s book is just translated as ‘pepper’ (appearing in many recipes), while sauce is still translated as ‘salsa’. Clearly the pre-Hispanic Filipino 'sawsawan' (very similar to other SEAsian dipping sauce) is the cane or paombong vinegar with garlic and onions. It probably looked so similar to their 'sauce' that it was considered close equivalent thus the name. Likely as chilies were introduced, the paombong vinegar with chilies evolved into what we now know as ‘sinamak’ (spiced vinegar). Polotan (pulutan)- manjares que hacen en sus bodas para beber; de modo, que antes de la comida principal o despues, van tamando de los platos algunas cosillas: y a estas cosillas llaman, polotan/ delicacies they make at their weddings to drink (with); so that before or after the main meal, they are picking from many dishes: they call these little plates of food, pulutan. Eg. Marlang polotan. “Plenty of potages.” Note: In another entry author called pulutan ‘potaje’, which literally translates to English ‘potage’ or stew or dishes cooked in stewpots. Modern Spanish translations of ‘potaje’ includes ‘soup’ and ‘chowder’. Putahe in today’s Filipino means ‘recipe’ or ‘types of cooked food’ in general. Pulutan’s more literal translation is ‘finger food’, from ‘pulot’ ‘to pick up with hand/fingers’, often associated as drinking food. Sabao (sabaw)-caldo de carne o pescado/broth of meat or fish. Eg. Sabauan mo ang pingan. “Put some broth on this plate.” Ayob-calentar lo ya asado o cocido para que se sazone/heat what is already roasted or cooked to season. Lotong (lutong)-secarse cualquiera genero de hojas, que casi puedan moleto dry any kind of leaves (to the point) which can almost grind (them). Laib, laob, layob-calentar ojas al fuego, para ponerlas por medicina/to heat leaves on the fire, to use them as medicine. Doro (duro)- espetar algo en el asadoto spit something on the grill. Eg. Doroin mo iyang morcilla “Spit (this) blood sausage onto the grill”. Yhao (ihaw)- asar carne o pescado o en parrillas/roast meat or fish or on grill. Eg. Ynihao nang cocinero morcillas “The cook grilled the blood sausage”. Salab-chamuscar puerco o venado, al fuego/singe pork, or venison on fire. Eg. Magsalab cayo niyang osa “Singe the meat of that deer.” Linguing (lingging/linwing ???), inin- sazonadamente algo de carne o pescado/ to season meat or fish for roasting/while roasting. Eg. Pacalinguingin mo ang pag aasal (or) pag yihao nang manuc. “Season well what you are grilling.“ Paano ang palilinguing? “How do you season (this meat) being roasted?” Note: I cannot for the life of me, find this in modern Tagalog dictionary, if anyone has a clue please comment. In-in (inin)-asar o cocer sazonadamente carne o pescado/roast or cook seasoned meat or fish. Eg. Maalam mag-inin ang cocinero “The cook knows how to season (the food being cooked).” Bangi- asar camotes o plantanos sobre las ascuas/to roast sweet potatoes or plantains/bananas on embers. Nanag- asar frutas en las brasas/to roast fruits on coals. Eg. Magnanag ca nang camote “Roast this sweet potato on the coals.” Note: You don't see this often in PH cooking anymore, but I saw videos of cooking in mainland SEAsia where in they toss vegetables directly on the coals, either to burn off the outer shell or to char them for flavor. Pais- asar algo envuelto en ojas en el rescoldo, u en pedazo de olla sobre las brasas/ roast something wrapped in leaves on the embers, or a piece of pot on the coals. Nagpapais si Yna nang may polot “My mother is roasting food wrapped in leaves with honey.” Eg. Ysdang pinais “Fish roasted in leaves.” Note: Per NoliSoli: ‘Pinais – similar to binalot but with an extra step of steaming while wrapped in banana leaf. Sahog- como el pasado y sus composiciones/to mix one thing with other ingredients (lit. “components”). Eg. Magsahog ca nang manga gulay sa laoya. “Add (these) vegetables with ginger.” Lahok- mezclar muchas cosas juntas, para cocerlas/mix many things together to cook them. Eg. Ypaquilahoc mo yaing morcillas sa linoloto “Add this morcilla (ie blood sausage) with the rest of ingredients you are cooking.” Saing, ipos, sigang- cocer arroz, carne, o pescado/to cook rice, meat or fish. Eg. Aco pala,y, ipinag saying? “Oh so (they) cooked some rice for me?” Note: Obviously these words have different meaning today, but ‘saing’ (to cook rice), and sigang (to make a soup) likely are cognates likely meaning ‘to boil’. San Buenaventura’s (1610’s) entry (pre-Hispanic term for the now used Spanish borrowed ‘gisa’): ‘Guisar : Gavang canin pp : qual quier guisado, como no tenian estos guisados asi no tienen vocablo para haçellos, sino para algunos pocos que de tarde en tarde ellos haçian, duo dic: gava, canin, la haçer de comer, imp : gumava ca nang canin, guisa, anong acqing gagauing canin? que de guisar? vala acong ypinagagava nang canin, no tengo aderentes con que guisar.’ Trans: ‘To stew-Gavang canin (gawang canin), any stew, as they did not have (names for) these stews, so they do not have a word for making them, but (this is the general term) for a few that they made from time to time. From gava (gawa) to make, canin (kanin) food. Eg. ‘Gumava ca nang canin’ ‘Guisa’ ‘Anong acqing gagauing canin?’ ‘Que de guisar?’ ‘Vala acong ypinagagava nang canin.’ ‘No tengo aderentes con que guisar.’’ Quisa (kisa or gisa ???)- cocer arroz juntamente con camote…(o) con algunas legumbres/cook rice with sweet potato (or) with other legumes. Eg. Masarap itong inyong quisa “This slop you made taste great.” Labon, laga- cocer camotes u otras raices comestibles/to cook/boil sweet potatoes or other root crops. Eg. Si ina ay nalalaga nang puyao “My mother is boiling molasses”. Note: Literal translation is ‘zumo de cana dulce’ ‘sugar cane juice’, I trans. it as molasses. Locot (lukot)- cocerse la miel/to cook molasses (lit. trans “honey” but really means ‘sugarcane extract’) Sanglal, sanglay- freir, en manteca/to fry, in oil. Eg. Nagsasanglal nang lamancati “(I’m) frying meat.” Sinanglal- guisado que hacen de carne mal frita/a stew they make of poorly fried meat. Note: I think these are the forerunner of stews where meat is fried thoroughly at first before being made into a stew and has some sourness in them eg. modern day Pininahan (pineapple stew) etc. Per San Buenaventura’s (1610’s) entry: ‘Guisado : Sanglal pc : que haçen estos con açeyte de cocos agua chile vinagre y venado, es con acacuela, nagsasanglal .2.ac. guisar ansi la carne, ysinasanglal .1.P. ser guisada, sinanglal, llaman ela carne guisada ansi .Vi. Freyr : ya nuestras cacuelas tambien llaman sinanglal.’ Trans:‘Stewed-1. Sanglal, which they make with coconut oil, chili, vinegar and venison in a cazuela (casserole pot). 2. ysinasanglal to make this stew 3. sinanglal, they call the meat stewed like that 4. they call our cazuela (now) as sinanglal’ Logao (lugaw)- guisar. arroz haciendolo ralo. lo mismo saing/to make rice into a thin stew. Ualan ipaglologao na gatas/tubig “There’s no milk or water to make lugaw with” (lit. trans “to make stew with”). Sanday-freir hojuela de cualquira genero/to fry flakes of any all kinds. Note: I think the proper translation is ‘crisps’ or ‘chips’. Bouo (buwo/buho)- guisar carne o pescado en cana/to stew meat or fish inside a bamboo cane. Eg. Magbouo tayo nang osa “Let’s stew the venison in the bamboo.” Note: Buho is a type of smaller bamboo. In olden times, they cooked quiet a lot of food including rice and stews in it. Paho- aceitunas de la tierra: es fruta agria, y echadas en salmuera parecen aceitunas sevillanas/similar to olives in this country: it is sour fruit; when tossed in brine they look like Seville olives. Note: Pahois a type of small mango that Filipinos pickled before they ripen. They are mentioned a few times in many accounts in 15th-16th c., in fact even Rizal annotated it his reprint of Morga Colo (kulo)-hervir lo que se cuece/to boil (what is to be cooked). Papal-relleno, estar algo y embutido /to stuff, stuffing. Eg. Napapalpalan yaring caban ng laman. “This chest (for meat) is stuffed.” Note: Palpal is used for ‘stuff’ in another entry, but example given is for pillow. Other words that are used for ‘embutir’ pandat/sandat (in context ‘recalcado’ ie stuffed so much, maybe to the point of popping out) and payicpic/sicsic...but almost all examples and context used were for not for food/cooking so I just left them. Lacsa (laksa)-fideos, cierta comida que se hace de masa/noodles/pasta, certain food that is made from dough. Note: Laksa is a type of noodle dish in SEAsia. Sometimes in the PH it’s called ‘laksa laksa’.Here’san online ‘recipe’ for a modern version of this noodle dish. Yanga (yangga)- tostar, tortilla de huevos etc/to fry egg omelet etc. Halbos (halabos)-tostar camarones, o cosas semejantes; y esto se hace echandole al genero, un poquillo de sal, y tostarlos; poco mucho; para que no se perdan/roasting shrimp, or the like; this is done by adding a bit of salt and roasting them, (but not too much) so you don’t overcook it. Note: Per Nolisoli: ‘Halabos this method is specific to shellfish. It means to cook in their own juices and in some cases, like the halabos na hipon…’ Lampahan- cocer echan el pescado en la olla/cook fish in the pot (with spices). Eg. May nilalampahan acong isda (lit trans.) “I have cooked (the) fish with all kinds of spices.” Lampahan-cocer echan el pescado en la olla/cook the fish in the pot. Note: Lampahan is the native name for ‘escabeche’ or another term for 'paksiw'. Bagoong- escabeche que hacen de pescados, camarones, ostiones, etc. con vinagre y sal/ marinade that fish, shrimp, oysters, etc. with vinegar and salt. Note: Escabeche can translate also in this context to ‘pickled’. Obviously bagoong and other regional variations of it eg Visayan ‘ginamos’ were called ‘escabeche’. Likely because vast majority of ‘bagoong’ variations used fish and fish guts rather than the today’s more common version of using tiny shrimp. Canas (kanas)-salar las huevas y tripas de los pescados/cure the fish roe and fish guts ie make caviar. Eg. Magcanas ca niyang manga itlog nang Banac. Canasin mo. “Salt these mullet eggs.” “Salt this”. Note: Per Wikipedia, there’s a type of bagoong in Balayan that uses fish roe and fish guts…however it when I googled ‘Balayan bagoong’ seems to be made out of anchovies. So I’m not exactly sure what is correct. But there are pictures of fish roe bagoong online in Tagalog region. Banak seems to be a general term for mullet fish, the Sp. Trans. ‘lisas’ ie llisa, mullet. Although this one is likely meant for sea mullet vs a certain type of river mullets, the endangered ‘ludong’. Aso-ahumar persona, pescado etc./to smoke a person or fish. Eg. Ypinaaso mo caya ang isda? “Did you put the fish in the smoke?” Darang-barbacoa pescado y no carne, seco al humo/to barbecue fish (and) not meat by smoke drying. Note: Today it’s called ‘tinapa’ which is verb inflection of 'tapa' 'cured or smoked meat' see below. Tapa-barbacoa cecina de carabao, baca, venado o pescado/barbecued dried meat of water buffalo, beef, venison or fish jerky. Tapa-ahumar carne o pescado en barbacoa. esto se hace poniendo la carne entre ramas de guayabas verdes sobre unos palos y darle humo por de bajo/smoking meat or fish on barbecue. This is done by putting the meat between green guava branches on some sticks and smoking it from underneath. Eg. Magtapa tayo nang osa. “Let’s smoke some venison.” Locma (lukma)-barbacoa que hacen de carabao etc. apresandola, de modo que queda muy delgada/barbecue that make with carabao meat etc. that is very thin Note: I guess carabao meat ie lukba today is the most common version of this type of jerky. Pindangpindang (pindang-pindang) or balol-tasajos de cualquiera carne/to make jerky out of any meat. Eg. Pindangpindangin mo iyang osa. “Make jerky of this venison.” Magpindangpindang cayo nang anuang. “Make carabao jerky.” Note: Pindang is still made in Kapampangan regions eg pindang babi (pork) and pindang baka (beef). It’s likely the pre-cursor of what we now call Filipino ‘tocino’. In Spain, ‘tocino’ just means bacon or pork belly. In Nola’s cookbook, it’s mostly used as tallow ie cooking grease, the same way we use cooking oil today. In Ganado’s cookbook, it’s used similarly, except gave instruction on how 'tozino' was sometimes used as chunks to add volume to recipes---even suggesting that cook keep pork skin to hold the fat bits together otherwise ‘it will fray like saffron’---and utilized to change texture of stews depending on how thick or chunky a piece is added. In this dictionary in fact it is called ‘pringue de tocino’ ‘taba’ ‘grease drippings of bacon’; it insinuates that bacon was also used that way. As one can see, tocino is nothing like the sweet native Filipino cured meat, today’s tocino originally called ‘pindang’. Ironically I still see Filipinos label it as ‘Spanish bacon’...when nothing about it is Spanish except the name.Pindang recipe online Balol-la ensartada, en pedacillos de venado, puerco de monte, o carabao. Metaf.: es labones de la cadena. Cabalol, llaman al que comio de un pedazo de estos, junto con el. /bits of venison, wild pork, or buffalo in skewer. Metaphor: ‘links of the chain’. Cabalol (ka-balol) is what they call the one who ate a piece of the same meat. Note: In some historical accounts, along with this example ie ‘cabalol’ there seems to be a practice among ancient Tagalog to call people that ate the same things with as if to say ‘compatriot’. In this dictionary several examples: caolam (kaulam), cainum (kainum ie kainuman today), casaguing (kasaging) “companero del plantano’ ‘banana eating companion/friend’ etc. In one account in BnR, they call someone who ate eggs with them as ‘caitlog’ ‘someone who ate the same egg as one did’, and it seems to denote (in that Spanish account) a term of endearment and friendship. As if to say, ‘people who share food, share bonds’. Another metaphor, ‘Bitasan mo siya nang cabalolan’ ‘Tear him a piece (off) that jerky’, signifies a heart being broken ie a person’s heart is torn by the thing he/she loves ie ‘Tore his/her heart to pieces.’ Skewering meat ala ‘satay’ ‘kebob’ style, clearly those tid bits of skewered meat (now called ‘barbecue’) that you can buy on the side of the road in the PH today, has very long history of existence. Tola-pepita, enfermedad que da a las gallinas, en la lengua/pip, a disease where tumors grow on (the tip) of a chicken’s tongue. Eg. Maytola yaring manuc ie Tinotola. “This chicken has canker.” Note: I didn’t even know if I should've added this...but this is the closest thing I could find to ‘tinola’. Frounce is a type of canker sore that grow in a chicken’s mouth, sometimes it tongue caused by a parasite. Maybe they chose to butcher these chicken (???) to prevent them from spreading to others. My other idea for ‘tinola’ is ‘tinulaw’ see entry: ‘tolao’. Ag-iu (agiw)-hollin que se cria en la chimenea/soot that accumulate in the fireplace. Rice Dishes Canin (kanin), sinaing-manjar comun de los naturales. que es la moriquesta...morisqueta concocido/common delicacy of the natives, it is (their) rice dish...cooked rice ie ‘sinaing’ Eg. Ang canin ang ylinalacas nang cataoan. "The delicacy is what gives energy to the body." Maloto (maluto)-morisqueta que llevan para comer en el camino/rice that they take to eat on the road. Eg. Magmaloto ca sa padoroonan mo. “Take rice where you are going.” Tutong-tustus de la morisqueta que se pega a la olla, cuando la cuecen/cooked rice that sticks to the pot when it is cooked. Sangag (sangag or sinangag)- tostar arroz de cierta manera/roasting rice in a certain way. Note: Obviously this is now ‘garlic fried rice’. Busa- tostar arroz blanco, o maiz de que hacen cierta frutilla/ toast white rice, or corn that makes a certain fritter. Note: I translated ‘frutilla’ (today’s meaning is ‘small fruit’ often trans. as ‘strawberry’) as ‘fritter’. In this case, puffed rice aka rice crispies. Busa per source mean ‘to cook with very small amount of oil’ NoliSoli Blogpost Batangas version of busa with caramel Olas (ulas)-secar el arroz, en una olla, al fuego, para poderlo moledry the rice by roasting in a pot over fire before grinding it. Binusa-arroz o maíz tostado para comer. tuestanlo con su cascara y revienta y a esto llaman binusa/toasted rice or corn to eat. They toast it with its shell and it bursts and they call this ‘binusa’. Binulaclac (binulaklak)-arroz tostado como el pasado. sale de bulaclac que es, flor, porque despuse de tostados los granos parecen flores/toasted rice like the previous entry. From word 'bulaclac', which is flower, because after roasting the grains (the shell opens up and...) look like flowers. Lagquitan (lagkitan)- arroz pegajoso 22 generos de arroz y solamente se onen los que hai aqui, que los demas poco importa y en cada pueblo se hallan trocados los nombres/sticky rice, out of the 22 kinds of rice and only the one (here mentioned) is used (for this purpose), the rest does not matter as much and in each town the names (of these sticky rice types) (sic) are different. Patopat-dijes como pajarillo, flores tc. haced dijes para la fiesta. hacense de hojas de palmas./charms, (that look) like a bird, flowers etc. Eg. Magpatopat cayo sa fiesta. “Make charms for the festival (or) make yourself some (using) palm fronds.” Note: I added this here because today “patupat” aka "puso" means a type of suman shaped like square or ball, using palm fronds in Visayas and Mindanao. It seemed Tagalogs then did not use it that way but the term is used to mean ‘to shape palm leaves into specific shapes as decoration’. Patupat supposedly came from the fact that original shape was preferred as “four sided” (apat) ie square. Suman- arroz envuelto o tamales que llaman, y estos solamente llevan arroz/wrapped rice or tamales. These only contain rice. Note: PAn for ‘cooked rice’ is \Semay. Although today suman is specifically used for long often sweetened sticky rice confectionaries wrapped in leaves, many variations of suman around the country like the puso or patupat in Visayas and Mindanao.* Bayo-moler o pilar arroz etc./to grind rice using a pillar (ie a mortar and pestle). Lupac (lupak)-moler cuando quitan las cascaras/to grind rice after the shells are removed. Note: Bayo means to pound the rice to get off the shell or even off the stalks. Lupak I think means to pound (even further) the hulled rice into flour using mortar and pestle. Pipig, pinipig-moler arroz tierno tostandolo primero para comerlo asi. esta moliendo arroz tierno/make rice tender by grinding it first and then toasting it. Desserts, Bread and Confectionaries Linamas- masa de harina/knead dough. Capal (kapal) na tinapay-torta de pan/cake/flat bread. Note: Reason why I trans. as ‘flat bread’ is because in another entry ‘torta’ was used in context of ‘flattened’. Tapay-amasar tortillas y de aqui, tinapay es pan/to knead flat cakes/tortillas, here 'tinapay' means bread. Eg. Nagtatapay si yna. "My mother is kneading (dough)". Note: Obviously 'tapay' is the root word of ‘tinapay’ ie bread. Therefore the meaning of ‘bread’ in Tagalog is ‘kneaded (dough/flour)’. Pre-Hispanic Filipinos likely didn't make bread the same way Eurasians did, but likely had some form of flatbread using various grains, although mostly using rice. A wine in the Cordilleras called ‘tapuy’ and variations thereof possibly means that the cognate ‘tapay’ means ‘fermenting’. Also see entry for ‘marhuya’. Tinapay-bollos de pan de arroz etc./buns of bread or rice. Note: I this entry ‘tacbac’ seems to be another term for ‘buns’, supposedly because the ‘tacbac’ fruit looks like buns of bread. Tagbak ie kolowratia elegans seed do look like small elongated bread buns. Guiling (giling)-moler en molino Sangley/to grind on the Chinese mill. Note: I have a feeling the etymology of ‘giling’ specifically is Minnan. I do not gave proof but this seems to imply it. Anyway a Chinese mill looks like a grindstone with a handle and an opening where water and grain is poured into. That is over another stone that a bevel from which finished product pours out. Effectively this was adopted by Pinoys. Growing up our neighbors had them to make puto. Galapong, gagalapong-harina...moler trigo, arroz etc. hasta hacerlo harina. Metaf: Molieronle su cuerpo a palos/flour...grind wheat, rice etc. to make flour. Metaphor: Ginalapon ang cataouan niya nang palo. “They ground his body (by beating him…) with sticks.” Note: Like most Filipino terms, it also can be used as a verb. In this case, ‘gumalapon’ means to grind grains ie to make into flour. Latic (latik)-hez o chicharron que queda del coco cocido de que sacaron aceite/pulp or chicharron/charred flakes that remain of the cooked coconut from which they extracted oil. Note: Latikis generally used as topping for rice-based confectioneries ie rice cakes today. It can also be turned into coconut caramel syrup and called the same thing in other regions. Calamay (kalamay)-conserva de miel y harina/a type of preserve that uses honey and flour. Eg. Malagquit na calamay "This calamay is sticky". Macunat na calamay "This calamay is leathery". Sinangday-fruta de sarten, que hacen de harina y miel/fritter, made with flour and honey. Note: the terms ‘sangday’ ‘sinanglal’ are all terms ‘to fry’ ie this is the general term for ‘fritters’ ie ‘confectioneries that are fried’. Another terminology is ‘bonga ng cauali’, which I don’t think is native but just the direct trans. of ‘fruta de sarten’ ie product of the skillet/frying pan Marhuya (maruya)- fruta de sarten. de harina y miel/fritter, (made) of flour and honey. Note: In another entry it wastranslated as ‘tortillas’, likely it was very thin and round. Maruya today are mostly ‘banana fritters’ that are a little bit bigger than a ‘tortilla’. Combo (kumbo)- fruta de sarten/fritter. Note: Per research kumbo is another name for ‘maruya’ in Leyte. Also a type of banana fritter. Obviously, the previous entries refer to a fritter using (rice) flour and honey so perhaps fritters then probably looked more like fried bilo-bilo or with other fruits other than just banana fritters. Quiping (kiping)-hojuelas fruta de sarten que hacen los naturales para sus bodas/leaf shaped flakes that the natives make for their weddings. Note: I generally translated ‘hojuelas/leaflets’ as ‘thin dough’ per context that it’s essentially thin pancakes that often had the context of ‘tortillas’ and ‘fruta de sarten’ as ‘fritters’. In this case,Kipingliterally are thin and leaf-shaped. Traditionally these are made for weddings likely in all throughout the Tagalog region, but nowadays is made only in a few places. It is featured in a festival in Lucban, Quezon (called Pahiyas Festival) wherein the whole town is decorated by colorful kiping which are literally shaped to imitate leaves. Buc-hayo (bukayo)-turron de la tierra/(what) nougat (is called) in this country. Pacascas (pakaskas)-cajeta que hacen de miel de cana y de un arbol llamado buli/a type of sweet/toffee made from the sugarcane extract and a tree called buli. Note: Pakaskas is melted cane sugar wrapped in the leaves of the ‘buli’ ‘buri’ tree, corypha utan (the leaves are more commonly known as ‘buri’ while the fruit are more known as ‘buli’). It is like a candy when it solidifies.This videoshows how pakaskas is made and how buli fruits are sometimes turned into a sweet delicacy with pandan (like kaong). Buli-palma es muy grande y provechosa, de las hojas hacen petates; de la fruta rosarios y del interior de esta palma molido, se sustentan en muchas partes, los naturales llamanle, alasip/a very large and useful palm. From the leaves they make mats. From the fruit (that are bundled like) rosaries (beads) and from the interior of this ground palm, they are sustained in many parts by (a food called) alasip as the natives call it. Note: From Lisboa’s Bicolano (1784, orig. 1602-1616) dictionary: ‘alasip-like flour they take from the buri tree with which they make buns or tortillas.’ In this dictionary, alasip is mentioned another time as food meaning: ‘sagu (sago)’ and ‘yoro (yuro)’. ‘Alasapin mo yaring cauong (kaong)’, which likely meant (because no trans) ‘grind that kaong fruit’. Sago is likely used in this example because sago flour is similar, and the fruits are like large sago balls (although sago palms look similar, they aren’t from the same family ie arrenga). From online research, they make flour out of ‘kaong’ (sugar palm) pith as well. Kaong, nipa and buli fruits are sweet and often sweetened even more by cooking in syrup and added aroma using pandan leaves. Kaong for example is a staple component of halo-halo. Last entry for alasip is as a term for a ‘witch’, in the same vein as mancuculam, magtatangal (mananangal) and osuang (aswang).
Ulcers and bumps on the tongue are other potential signs of disease. Ulcers can be a sign of tuberculosis. Other Symptoms. A swollen, painful and burning tongue might indicate glossodynia, also known as burning mouth syndrome 2. It can be a symptom of diabetes. A weak tongue also might be a sign of diabetes, as well as alcoholism and multiple First, let us see what the connection between “true” caviar and salmon roe categorized as red caviar is. Actually, all fish have roe, and some of it is treated and handled the same way as “real” caviar. You see, caviar is a word reserved only for the roe coming from the sturgeon, a fish native to the Caspian and Black Sea basin. Instead, use the tongue and palate to feel the texture and taste of caviar. Caviar nutrition facts – Is caviar good for your health? Caviar contains significant amounts of calcium, phosphorus, sodium, protein, cholesterol (Omega-3), iron, selenium, zinc, magnesium, and vitamins A, C, D, B2, B6, and B12. Request PDF | On Jan 1, 2011, Vishalakshi Viswanath and others published Caviar tongue | Find, read and cite all the research you need on ResearchGate Tongue colour: 'A normal, healthy tongue is usually a pinkish, light red, with a slight white coating and is neither too thick or thin and not flabby or overlapping the teeth, Ms Holland explained. The tongue allows us to taste food, swallow and talk, and it can actually be a very good measure of the well-being of the body. Because we use our tongue constantly, it can be frustrating and uncomfortable when we experience tongue diseases, including soreness or swelling, changes in taste or color and pain. Geographic tongue is a minor — although sometimes uncomfortable — condition. However, lesions on the tongue may indicate other more-serious conditions of the tongue or diseases affecting the body in general. If you have lesions on the tongue that don't resolve within 10 days, see your doctor or dentist. Caviar is technically the salted roe of sturgeon, a prehistoric, scale-less fish that ranges in the Northern hemisphere from North America to China. Depending on the species of sturgeon, area of harvest, and treatment of the eggs after harvest, caviar can vary in texture, flavor, and appearance. These days, most of the caviar available in the U.S. comes from farmed fish around the world—the What does caviar taste like | caviar taste like 2021 Caviar taste like. sakil Send an email October 28, 2020. 0 9 minutes read The tongue is a sensitive and complex muscle, but it can hurt for a wide variety of reasons. This Knowledge Center article explains a number of common causes for tongue pain, including physical
Learn What The Color Of Your Tongue Reveals About The ...
WARNING:THIS VIDEO IS NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY SO CALM YO TITTAYS. So. Emoji's... WHAT DOES IT MEAN? Like seriously have you ever gotten an eggplant e... What does tongue lashing mean? A spoken definition of tongue lashing. Intro Sound: Typewriter - Tamskp Licensed under CC:BA 3.0 Outro Music: Groove Groove - ... What does SEVRUGA CAVIAR mean? SEVRUGA CAVIAR meaning - SEVRUGA CAVIAR definition - SEVRUGA C... SEVRUGA CAVIAR meaning - SEVRUGA CAVIAR definition - SEVRUGA C... Video shows what tongue-in-cheek means. not intended seriously; jocular or humorous. Tongue-in-cheek Meaning. How to pronounce, definition audio dictionary.... The Video goes into some detail as to the meaning behind the tongue gesture in Freemasonry, why it's used by the elite and so called Celebrities. It explains... If you are feeling under the weather, just stick out your tongue - the state it's in can present an accurate picture of your health.The colour, texture and m... What does tongue-in-cheek mean? A spoken definition of tongue-in-cheek. Intro Sound: Typewriter - Tamskp Licensed under CC:BA 3.0 Outro Music: Groove Groove ... What Your Tongue Has to Say About Your Health!https://youtu.be/DmAYriizQIE What Your Tongue Has to Say About Your Health!Most of us don’t really think about ... What does caviar to the general mean?A spoken definition of caviar to the general.Intro Sound:Typewriter - TamskpLicensed under CC:BA 3.0Outro Music:Groove G... Veronica Belmont of Tekzilla sent in a video requesting us to cover caviar, and so, in today's WTF, Daniel Delaney explores the ins and outs of the spherical...
