Hello again, readers. Miss me? Don’t answer that, for you are reading this in the future, or perhaps I only wrote it in the past. Point is, I’ll likely be out dancing when you read this and will not hear your reply. I will assume, however, the answer was yes.

If you’ve followed my writing closely in the past, and you have for fear of punishment, then you are aware I have brushes with celebrities the same way hobos have brushes with sanity—those stark, unpredictable moments when sense almost creeps into their thought processes and then it’s back to masturbating in a dumpster. Yes, I have rubbed elbows with Bianca Gonzalez, and rubbed other things with Mylene Dizon, as well as 80’s rap sensation Andrew E and 90’s smut-based porn sensation Priscilla Almeda. Well I’ve saved the best for last, this being last in chronological order compared to those others, though if you read this after my next one it will be second last, and this whole paragraph will end on this poorly thought out and awkwardly structured note.

As many of you know, I write daily correspondence to Kris Aquino. Often just a simple letter asking how her day is going, sometimes a 200-page treatise on why I prefer a bidet to a traditional toilet. Here is a copy of my last letter sent just this morning before writing this:
We have so much fun together! Anyway, I guess we’re up to around 3000 letters sent after 8 plus years, so it’s no surprise that Ms. Aquino finally got back to me:

Dear Sir or Madam:

This CEASE AND DESIST ORDER is to inform you and/or your associates that your harassing and intimidating actions against Kris Aquino and/or any associates of Ms. Aquino has become unbearable and, frankly, mind-boggling. Such anti-social and unnerving behavior is completely unacceptable and will not be tolerated in any way, shape or form. 

This letter is to inform you that you and/or your associates’ continuing involvement in, planning and encouragement of, letter writing, harassment and intimidation must CEASE AND DESIST immediately. 

Should you and/or your associates continue to pursue these activities in violation of this CEASE AND DESIST ORDER, we will not hesitate to pursue further legal action against you and/or your associates, including but not limited to, civil action and/or criminal complaints.


It goes on for a few pages with examples and various laws being violated, but you get the idea. The important thing was, I had made an impression. Now that she knew I existed, it was time to initiate Plan B: Meet Kris Aquino!

If you also stalk Kris Aquino, then you know on Fridays she likes to go to the Starbucks along Katipunan Avenue to get a latte and sit on the patio for a few minutes while she waits for her assistant. On this particular Friday, I took it upon myself to detain her assistant with the help of my assistants: chloroform and a sock filled with coins. Either would work on their own but I like to be thorough.

With Ms. Aquino’s assistant comfortably ensconced in the trunk of an abandoned Toyota Vios with a note pinned to his chest blaming it all on a crippling meth addiction and a sexual obsession with Boy Abunda, it was time to head to Starbucks to make some magic happen.

As Ms. Aquino and I had never formally met and she had only seen me scuttling in the darkness of her property in a ski mask, she was not at all surprised when I walked out onto the patio. Now of course, there was a moment of trepidation here. Do I invite myself to sit with her or simply sit at the next table and try to strike up polite conversation? Polite conversation seemed most reasonable.

I sat down with my scone (brought from home, I’m not paying the ludicrous prices at Starbucks) and tried to look casual. Ms. Aquino was reading a paper with sunglasses on. Oh, you showbiz celebrities! As I stared blankly at her, I could see hse had taken notice and was becoming visibly uncomfortable with my gaze. Time to act fast!

“Hey, bet you’ve never seen your assistant bound up in the trunk of a Toyota Vios with a suicide note pinned to his chest!” I laughed. Ms. Aquino lowered her paper.

“Excuse me?”

“I know, right?” I slid some of the photos of his assistant over.

“Oh my God, Terrence? Is he OK? What happened?”

“He’s fine. Sorta. As for what happened, it was fate! It’s an honor to finally meet you Ms. Aquino. Can I call you Kris? Or Kriss? You can’t audibly tell the difference but one of those had another S on it.”

“What? Who are you? What happened to Terrence?”

“Were the pictures not clear? He’s in a trunk. I’ve been calling it a Toyota Vios this whole time but I’m beginning to recall that one of the defining characteristics of a Toyota Vios is that it has a flat bed. Hell, we may never find the car he’s in now…if anyone cares to look, I mean.”

“What?” Ms. Aquino was clearly getting into this. We had a great rapport going. Her expression reminded me of that look she had on her face on some talent show on TV. Let’s look at a picture...
Aha ha ha! Lovely.

As Ms. Aquino demanded again to know my identity, I reflected again that this was probably the best plan I’d ever hatched to force someone into being my friend. In the past, I’d tried meeting people at bars and at work and there was that one time on Facebook, but of course that got out of hand fast. This seemed a wise course to take.

Like most people, I became enamored with Kris Aquino after no specific role, but after taking a step back and looking at his career as a whole and just thinking “holy shit.” And I mean that. Take a moment to yourself right now and consider the entirety of Kris Aquino’s career: Pido Dida. Ang Siga at ang Sosyal. Vizconde Massacre. Tasya Fantasia. I’ll have to stop here because it can just keep going forever.

“I’m calling the police,” said Ms. Aquino, drawing me from my reverie. She pulled out a cellphone and I felt perhaps that this meeting was going off the rails a bit. I had to think fast.

“If you call the police you’ll regret it,” I piped up. Nah, that didn’t sound right.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No!” Think fast, man! You can do this. “It’s not a threat, it’s a promise.” Shit.

Ms. Aquino ignored me from here on out as she conversed with the 911 operator. Odds are I had about 10 minutes before police arrived to fix this situation, get us on good footing and make it cool such that Kris could just tell the cops it was all a misunderstanding when they arrived. It was doable. I had once gotten 2 extra nuggets in a 10-piece from McDonalds, so I was a pretty lucky guy.

“I’m the guy who sends you letters every day!” I exclaimed.  “Here’s a photo of me on the toilet!”  Man, that was dead wrong. Why do I carry that picture around, anyway?

Anyway, long story short, Terrence was found. It was the trunk of a Toyota Camry.  I was close! I had to wind sprint from the scene before the police arrived while Ms. Aquino shouted empty threats of lawsuits and jail time after me. She’s such a card. So yeah, that was the time I met Kris Aquino.
 



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