<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234</id><updated>2012-01-03T22:31:47.754+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The McVie Show</title><subtitle type='html'>Welcome to The McVie Show! Your daily dose of comedy, drama, talk, news, public affairs, music… and large amounts of irony, sarcasm and raised eyebrows. Rated For Adults Only: only for those who are adult enough to know better not to take this show seriously. If you want to get real, get off-line.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>252</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108539738020654130</id><published>2004-05-24T19:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-25T21:02:43.300+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>SEASONS CHANGE.The McVie Show, now on its second season. Check it out now.The funk soul brother. Right about now...Click link on the right ---&gt;In this season of changes, it's time to change seasons.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108539738020654130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108539738020654130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108539738020654130' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108503774853842331</id><published>2004-05-20T14:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-23T03:05:14.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Game KNB?Cebu Pacific Airlines, to differentiate themselves from the national carrier PAL, has taken to playing games on board their flights—presumably, of course, to alleviate the tedium of plane travel.So they decided to play Supply The Missing Lyric game. They started with a Tagalog song (automatically disenfranchising the foreigners onboard, but I bet they didn’t feel sorry for </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108503774853842331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108503774853842331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108503774853842331' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108488093025406089</id><published>2004-05-18T19:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-18T19:48:50.253+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Beat To The Pun-chAaargh! Entertainment Weekly, my one and only bible, just beat me to the punch! They were able to use the phrase “Sex Balm” as a title! (It was an article about this former porno actress-turned-doctor has been helping the US porn industry after the most recent HIV scare among straight-porn actors and actresses.)Ever since I heard the Sex Bomb girls singing their </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108488093025406089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108488093025406089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108488093025406089' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108479893478086288</id><published>2004-05-17T21:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T21:02:14.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: On The WaterfrontVacation All I ever wantedVacation Had to get awayVacationMeant to be spent alone– “Vacation” by The GoGo’sThe night before my mom had to be rushed to the hospital at 4:30am because of vertigo. The doctor ordered a full ECG and blood test. Turned out she had higher cholesterol levels than usual (all that roasted pig) plus fatigue caused by age and non-stop </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108479893478086288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108479893478086288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108479893478086288' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108479728108691691</id><published>2004-05-17T20:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T20:34:41.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Random Thoughts“Suck the marrow off Life.” Drink deep, live Life to the fullest. For most people this means live fast, die young.“Go placidly amid the noise and haste.” There’s virtue in detachment. In fact, the older we are the more we appreciate the value of letting go.So where do we place ourselves? Do we go eyeball-to-eyeball with Life while we’re young, then as we grow older </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108479728108691691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108479728108691691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108479728108691691' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108479490100106592</id><published>2004-05-17T19:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-17T19:55:01.000+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: PasalubongSo here I am looking for pasalubongs (gifts) for my officemates. I don’t really know why I even bother. It’s ironic considering I don’t bring pasalubongs for my friends, and here I am taking time to give something for people who I’m friendly to but not friends with.*****WE INTERUPT THIS EPISODE FOR A COMMERCIAL BREAK:The radio in this internet café is playing this VISAYAN</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108479490100106592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108479490100106592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108479490100106592' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108463095842456262</id><published>2004-05-15T22:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T22:22:38.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Pure Foods Fiesta HmmmMay 15 is the feast day of St. Isidore the Farmer, the patron saint of our hometown Bilar, Bohol. Fiesta for the Bilarnons consists of mainly of the following: attend mass, eat food, food, and more food.It is customary to visit relatives during fiestas. It is also custom for everyone to offer guests food and, in turn, guests may not refuse.The night before, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108463095842456262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108463095842456262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108463095842456262' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108462885572003192</id><published>2004-05-15T21:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-15T21:47:35.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: On PapasMy first cousin on my dad’s side married a guy who reminds me so much of Oscar Orbos… same always-ready-to-smile face, crinkly eyes, even the hair. Plus he’s got this uber-pleasant disposition to boot. Papa-liciously cute, in other words.We visited them yesterday. My mom was introducing us, her children, and when she got to me, Papa Licious took one look and said, “Kamukha ‘</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108462885572003192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108462885572003192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108462885572003192' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108445557391735566</id><published>2004-05-13T21:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-13T21:39:33.916+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Take Off And LandingMy two most favorite portions of a plane ride is the take off and landing. I love the mounting tension as the jets go full blast, and the plane is pushed, pushed, pushed until enough air pressure is created under the wings to give it lift and... whoopee!!! We disconnect from the ground.I also like the moment during landing when you feel the drag of the plane as </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108445557391735566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108445557391735566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108445557391735566' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108445493936223184</id><published>2004-05-13T21:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-13T21:28:59.363+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Connect, DisconnectI am typing this from an internet cafe at a beach in Panglao Island, Bohol. A few minutes earlier I had given up trying to log on to Blogger, but fortunately the only terminal that could access it was suddenly free.I am enjoying my disconnection, both from the Matrix (aka, online) and the Real World. Connecting with the Primary Source (my family), I realize that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108445493936223184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108445493936223184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108445493936223184' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108420010076137719</id><published>2004-05-10T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-10T22:44:17.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Lab Ko 'To!Falling in Love  (from the book "Letters to my Son", by Kent Nerburn)It is a mystery why we fall in love. It is a mystery how it happens. It is a mystery when it comes. It is a mystery why some love grows and it is a mystery why some love fails. You will never do anymore than take the life out of the experience. Just as life itself is more than the sum of the bones </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108420010076137719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108420010076137719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108420010076137719' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108411874676752622</id><published>2004-05-09T23:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-10T00:10:17.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Bongga Ka DaysToday being Mother’s Day, we treated our mom out for lunch. I asked permission to sneak out of the workshop we were conducting so I could join the family for lunch.“Maximum big surprise your smile is something new…I pull my shirt off and pray,We're sacred and bound to suffer the heatwave,Pull my shirt off and pray We're coming up on re-election day”Tomorrow is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108411874676752622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108411874676752622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108411874676752622' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108383342932343166</id><published>2004-05-06T16:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-06T16:59:05.030+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Hello Bohol!Next week the McVie Family minus one (sounds like an album, much like the Partridge Family or the Osmonds) will fly to Bohol. My mom wants to be in our hometown of Bilar for its town fiesta this May 15. Furthermore, she wants the whole family to be together this summer. Suddenly, pressure. My brothers, sisters and I had to get our vacation leaves approved one way or another</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108383342932343166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108383342932343166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108383342932343166' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108375374146483252</id><published>2004-05-05T18:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T18:48:41.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Ass You WereGay sex being what it is, anal-related topics usually crop up during discussions. For instance, Kervs and I were discussing toilet rituals related to Number Two. His family is a tabo-at-tubig household. For them a thorough ass-wash is cleaner than ass-wipe.I come from a toilet paper and wash-with-water household. Double the toil but double the clean. Although when I was</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108375374146483252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108375374146483252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108375374146483252' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108373399984407001</id><published>2004-05-05T13:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-05T13:17:44.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Hello Darkness, My Old FriendLast night I was gripped by a sudden, uncharacteristic bout of loneliness… or mild depression, perhaps? It happens to Comic Me sometimes. Anyway, the usual suspects I run to were unavailable, so I decided on a remedy that’s increasingly effective for me.Sleep.I went home a little earlier than usual (which means before midnight) and after the usual </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108373399984407001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108373399984407001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108373399984407001' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108360323108509703</id><published>2004-05-04T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T00:59:52.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Good Luck To Us All!“Mamalasin tayo.”Bad luck will befall our country if we elect officials who will misuse government funds for their personal gain.Bad luck? Is that what governing is… luck?This FPJ TV ad is so insulting. It, unfortunately, also zooms in on the fear buttons of our fellow countrymen. Will they fall for it, or are they discerning enough to see through the emotional</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108360323108509703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108360323108509703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108360323108509703' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108358753476347196</id><published>2004-05-03T20:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T11:37:07.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Meeting FriendsThe weekend was a relaxing respite from last week’s hectic work mess that, sigh, seems to continue on to this week. Saturday I met some of my TA friends, together with the Good Doctor himself. We had to prepare for an acting workshop to be held next weekend. It was great seeing them after a long time. These TA kids (most of them are still in college) keep me young at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108358753476347196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108358753476347196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_05_01_archive.html#108358753476347196' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108332915869482065</id><published>2004-04-30T20:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-30T20:52:54.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Sneaking Time Off To Do An Episode…It’s just another hectic Friday (woo-woooh!)Wish it were Saturday (woo-woooh!)Cuz that’s my fun day (oh-woo-oh-oh-oooh!)*****As Election Day 2004 nears, more and more political ads are polluting the already-contaminated airwaves. My most hated TV ads are, in no particular order:[1] Jinggoy Estrada’s – with that barbed wire, the image of father</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108332915869482065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108332915869482065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108332915869482065' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108323572861359720</id><published>2004-04-29T18:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-05-04T11:38:01.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Obi Wannabe Kenobi Episode*****Dramatis Personae:Obi Wannabe Kenobi – a pseudonym and a not too subtle one at that. If you’ve been following The McVie Show closely, you’ll know who I’m referring to.*****Very few people have disappointed me in my life. That’s because I look at life with realistic eyes (it’s a conscious decision I made after reading Linda Goodman’s seminal book,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108323572861359720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108323572861359720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108323572861359720' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108314243395752674</id><published>2004-04-28T16:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-28T17:01:01.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Hair We GoWith all this heat, I need a haircut.For me, two weeks is enough in between cuts. My hair is naturally kinky (yeah, yeah, go ahead… I’ve heard them all already) so I go for the close-cropped cut.Back in the infamous eighties I allowed my friend to talk me into growing my bangs into a cowlick, cut my sides short, and grow the back of my hair long. Now my hair doesn’t </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108314243395752674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108314243395752674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108314243395752674' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108305178742893825</id><published>2004-04-27T15:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-27T15:47:21.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Burn, Baby, Burn!Working in an environment with a lot of high-end computers has its benefits: cold, cold air conditioning!Can’t believe the heat these days! The moment I step out for lunch, I run into a wall of heat. And the sun is shining so bright, it stings. Yesterday we went to have lunch at West Avenue; waiting for a taxi was literally hell. Good thing I have this </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108305178742893825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108305178742893825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108305178742893825' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108299341893922136</id><published>2004-04-26T23:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-27T11:55:16.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Food, Glorious FoodI’m fatter. Damn it.(The wake + 9 days prayer + Holy Week) x (pork + oily food + no gym) = Pakingshet!!!I need a new workout program. I need to cut down on comfort food. That means less burgers, pizza and ice cream. But I’ve noticed that with those three “food groups,” there are at least two kinds vying for the top spot as far as my palate is concerned.Burger: </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108299341893922136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108299341893922136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108299341893922136' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108293402797673044</id><published>2004-04-26T06:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-26T07:10:17.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The McVie Top 5On a lighter note, I’m re-starting my top five after a two week shut-down. Since I had no charts last week, there will be no “last-week’s position.”[5] Let’s Get Retarded / Black Eyed PeasMy officemate was singing the chorus as “Let’s get platonic” until I yelled “Retarded!” at her. She thought I was insulting her. In a way, I was.[4] I Believe In The Thing Called </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108293402797673044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108293402797673044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108293402797673044' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108288747154740143</id><published>2004-04-25T18:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-25T18:08:43.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: PauseA constant pressence in my life is gone, and I was not able to prepare myself for it. Today would have been the 40th wedding anniversary of my parents.I miss Daddy.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108288747154740143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108288747154740143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108288747154740143' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108261869913221981</id><published>2004-04-22T15:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T19:40:51.233+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Cubao Is A State Of MindIt may not be the geographical center of Metro Manila, but Cubao is undoubtedly its “transportational” center. That’s where most forms of public transportation converge so that people can transfer rides to take them to the four corners of the metro.The heart of this “get-off, get-on” system is the length of Aurora Blvd, especially in the intersection of Aurora</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108261869913221981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108261869913221981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108261869913221981' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108260935954103378</id><published>2004-04-22T12:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T12:54:30.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: All You Need Is LoveGot the following email from a Jed Estanislao this morning in the TA e-groups. It’s as if he was eavesdropping in on our on-line discussion re. love. Here it is, for more discussion-fodder.My philo teacher sent this over my e-mail. Rilke's discussion does not offer a closure regarding the definition of love; rather, I believe he gives us young adults a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108260935954103378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108260935954103378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108260935954103378' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108260849633966668</id><published>2004-04-22T12:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-22T12:41:07.576+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Can You Hear The Drums, Orlando?I spoke too soon. On my way home last night, Orlando’s radio started fluctuating. I thought at first it was the radio station, until I glanced down and saw that it was the car radio that would go off, as if the power was switched off. Then I noticed the lights dimming. Electrical trouble, I immediately realized. I pumped the accelerator and was able to</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108260849633966668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108260849633966668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108260849633966668' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108255761716470432</id><published>2004-04-21T22:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-21T22:31:03.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Today Is Just A DayToday was an indistinguishable day. Nothing significant, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing much. In fact, if today didn’t happen, the world wouldn’t be any less rich or poor, happy or sad.There must be days like this when nothing much happens to someone’s life. Of course, different people have different “nothing much” days. Mine could be today, yours could be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108255761716470432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108255761716470432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108255761716470432' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108247076956858305</id><published>2004-04-20T22:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T22:50:35.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: From Channeling Discovery Channel To Channeling OprahPlease take note that the following are my thoughts on the matter. (Dear Kervs, you may disagree with some of the things I’ll mention here, and we can discuss them further face-to-face… and side-by-side, hehehe.)I’ll just re-arrange the questions a bit.[1] What exactly constitutes a relationship? A relationship necessitates that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108247076956858305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108247076956858305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108247076956858305' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108245779141940125</id><published>2004-04-20T18:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-20T19:35:47.983+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Wondering Xander, Part 2Two more questions from Xander:[1] i have another one that's been bugging me: how do you shoot a tv screen or a computer screen without showing those weird horizontal bars that move top to bottom? would you know?Here’s the nerdiest answer I can muster for a nerdy inquirer.What you see on the computer monitor is composed of still images flashed one after </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108245779141940125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108245779141940125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108245779141940125' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108238248407727587</id><published>2004-04-19T21:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T21:56:17.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Grave BusinessThe surest things on earth are births and deaths, so if you go into either the child-birthing business or death business, you’re sure to have regular customers.The death business has always been very serious, for obvious reasons. That’s why the McVie Family, after our recent episode, has thought of several ways to lighten up this otherwise grave business.[1] Thematic </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108238248407727587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108238248407727587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108238248407727587' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108237958770077189</id><published>2004-04-19T20:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T21:04:10.090+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Love In The Gravest Of PlacesIn the movie Love, Actually, the prologue shows that love actually is still abundant in this world. The proof? Look at all the people in airports, whether arriving or departing.There’s another place that’s so full of love, and I realized that only recently—the cemetery.Visiting my dad’s grave yesterday, I noticed so many others visiting their dearly </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108237958770077189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108237958770077189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108237958770077189' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108235627729218826</id><published>2004-04-19T14:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T14:35:43.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Wondering XanderXander asks:[1] is it ok for mcvie to reveal the other plugs he has worked on? and what his favorites are?My all-time favorite is actually an old one. It was for a Sunday Family Cinema movie, Tomorrow Never Dies with Pierce Brosnan as James Bond. In that plug, I was able to take a very creative concept and execute it with fun and flair. It was also fun to edit all </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108235627729218826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108235627729218826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108235627729218826' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108234928103451178</id><published>2004-04-19T12:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-19T12:38:59.046+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Nelz’s Seven WondersNelz is wondering:[1] will randy ever show his beautiful face to the audience? or will he remain in the curtains?I sincerely think he’ll never show himself to us. Facelessness is his friend; it works to his advantage. I think if he shows himself up, there goes the mystery.[2] will daniel/daniela be ever one?He/she is one… heck of a headache, hahaha![3] will </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108234928103451178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108234928103451178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108234928103451178' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108211340895438727</id><published>2004-04-16T19:03:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T19:08:20.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: McVie Does Randy[1] Was Judas forgiven? (not only for the betrayal...but the suicide as well)....why and why not?I think God in all His infinite wisdom and mercy has forgiven Judas, Herod, Ferdinand Marcos, high heels for women, punks, wearing of shoulder pads in the 80s… and everyone who’s ever dumped anyone.[2] Where did the wives of Cain and Abel come from?Logically from Adam </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108211340895438727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108211340895438727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108211340895438727' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108210906818722880</id><published>2004-04-16T17:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T17:55:47.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Man In The Mirrorfrom Kervs: You can change one thing (or more) about yourself. What is/are they? Why?I’m having a hard time answering this question—can’t think of anything specific off the bat. I’m asking myself, “If there’s one thing about myself that I’m dissatisfied with, what is it?” but still nothing comes to mind.(after an hour editing a plug for a comedy show)I want my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108210906818722880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108210906818722880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108210906818722880' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-10820981240060274</id><published>2004-04-16T14:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T14:52:42.483+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Missing A Dadfrom Daniel: What do you miss most about your dad? Given his sudden death, are there things you wish you had said/done?I miss his reassuring presence most of all. He was always there for us, for Mommy.Are there things I wish I had said or done? None, no regrets.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/10820981240060274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/10820981240060274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#10820981240060274' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108209754354887104</id><published>2004-04-16T14:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-16T14:44:32.200+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Titular Answers To Mark’s Titular Questions1. Are You Lonesome Tonight?[a] if it’s Thursday evening, after work: Alone Again, Naturally [b] if it’s Friday evening, and I’m meeting Kervs: Together Again2. Is There Something I Should Know?Yeah!3. How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band4. Where IS The Love?What’s Love Got To Do With It?5. Why Did </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108209754354887104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108209754354887104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108209754354887104' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108203543813445389</id><published>2004-04-15T21:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-15T21:29:58.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Just Like A Miss U PageantDamn. I can’t seem to think of anything to write about.Blame it on a post-burial mood. I’m not exactly depressed, but my mind’s not latching on to each and every little minutiae of my life right now. So when I sit in front of the monitor, my mind goes as blank as the Word page staring back at me.Then while having dinner, a solution—thanks to Adaptation </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108203543813445389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108203543813445389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108203543813445389' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108186831838643641</id><published>2004-04-13T22:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-14T11:45:28.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Shameless Plug… For A PlugMy latest “baby”, the 2004 Comedy Omnibus plug is now airing. It’s the one where our comedians are laughing in their most unguarded, most natural way.I started working on that project before April 1. I was going to personally sit in on the editing, which happened Monday &amp; Tuesday of Holy Week. Our director and editor, as well as my subordinates, had to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108186831838643641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108186831838643641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108186831838643641' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108186759245630529</id><published>2004-04-13T22:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-14T00:49:50.356+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: What IfsSometimes it just comes when I least expect it, and in the strangest places. While starting Orlando, waiting for the MRT train, queuing up at McDonald’s. Sadness envelops me, and then a hollow feeling creeps inside me.I remember taking my time to get out of bed. Get a shirt from the cabinet, change shirt. Shuffle to the bathroom, pee leisurely.I see my mom massaging my dad,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108186759245630529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108186759245630529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108186759245630529' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108175200282829747</id><published>2004-04-12T14:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-12T14:43:55.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Back To Life, Back To Reality….Because I’ve not been listening to music the past two weeks I’ve put my Top 5 on hold. But I must say that Franz Ferdinand’s Take Me Out is a blast. The moment their CD comes out in stores I’m going to get me a copy.I’m also going to sneak out and try to catch the movies Love, Actually and 50 First Dates. Two love stories back-to-back? I’ll try not to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108175200282829747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108175200282829747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108175200282829747' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108174227212307517</id><published>2004-04-12T11:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-12T12:31:17.966+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Dead Scrolls, Part 5: If Daddy Were ElvisMy dad died before he and my mom could attend the 6 a.m. mass last April 1.But that same morning two of the regular mass goers swear they saw my dad. One saw him inside the Blessed Sacrament room. Another saw him seated alone in the usual spot where my parents sit. She took note of that because she reminded herself to ask my mom why she didn’t </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108174227212307517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108174227212307517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108174227212307517' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108168885391529353</id><published>2004-04-11T21:07:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-11T21:11:26.293+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Dead Scrolls, Part 4: It’s All About TimingMy dad died April 1, 2004. That’s April Fool’s Day.He died between 5:45 to 6:00 in the morning. He died when everyone in our house was still at home. If he died at a later time, he would have died in church. If he waited ‘til he and my mom got home from mass, by that time my brothers Andre and Jr. would have already left for work.The 40th day </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108168885391529353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108168885391529353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108168885391529353' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108152346659415268</id><published>2004-04-09T23:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-11T01:38:17.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Dead Scrolls, Part 3: EulogyFor the longest time I lived under the shadow of my older brother Mark. In the beginning it was a source of insecurity and angst for me, but that forced me to find ways to establish a different identity for myself. Pretty soon I learned to use it to my advantage. Eventually I learned to live with it, and now I’m pretty comfortable with the fact that both of us </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108152346659415268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108152346659415268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108152346659415268' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108147365866213426</id><published>2004-04-09T09:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-09T17:38:37.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Dead Scrolls, Part 2: Break It To Me Gently / It’s Only WordsMy mom, I noticed, is a fiction writer storyteller. Once upon a time, in a land far, far away… kind of storyteller. Start gently then slowly bring in the conflict, including the scary evil dragon guarding the castle where the princess lay sleeping.When she called up my dad’s older brother in Davao to tell him that [a] his </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108147365866213426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108147365866213426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108147365866213426' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108139103574245892</id><published>2004-04-08T10:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-08T10:27:43.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Dead Scrolls, Part 1: Dedma, Dead Pa, Dead NaApril Fools Day, 2004, 5:50amMy mom nudges me awake.“Joel, let’s bring your dad to the hospital.” She is calm and matter-of-fact, like she knows exactly what to do… because in fact she does. She encountered this before already. Twice.cut to flashback: Year 1992My dad sat down on the bed. He was having difficulty breathing. When my mom </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108139103574245892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108139103574245892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108139103574245892' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108081054115099492</id><published>2004-04-01T17:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-03T09:25:40.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>STATION ADVISORY 3:THE McVIE SHOW LIVE! (BUT WITH THE DEAD) IS AT LOYOLA MEMORIAL PARK MARIKINA, CHAPEL 4, STARTING TONIGHT UNTIL WEDNESDAY, APRIL 7, 2004.INTERMENT WILL BE ON APRIL 7 AT THE LOYOLA MEMORIAL PARK MARIKINA, AFTER THE 8 A.M. MASS IN CHAPEL 4.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108081054115099492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108081054115099492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108081054115099492' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108077903643536846</id><published>2004-04-01T08:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-01T08:27:34.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>STATION ADVISORY 2:OH YEAH, THIS IS NOT AN ELABORATE APRIL FOOLS DAY JOKE BY YOURS TRULY. (IT MAY BE GOD’S JOKE, BUT CERTAINLY NOT MINE. I MEAN, I WOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT IT, BUT I DOUBT IF I HAVE THE BALLS TO PULL IT OFF. OTHERWISE, THAT JOKE WOULD HAVE SLAYED!)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108077903643536846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108077903643536846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108077903643536846' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108077500811266730</id><published>2004-04-01T07:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-04-01T07:20:25.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>STATION ADVISORY:THE McVIE SHOW WILL TEMPORARILY BE OFF-AIR. MY DAD JUST DIED, AND WE WILL HAVE TO MAKE ARRANGEMENTS AND STUFF.MEANWHILE, FIND WAYS TO ENTERTAIN YOURSELVES. THANK YOU.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108077500811266730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108077500811266730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_04_01_archive.html#108077500811266730' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108073205788212392</id><published>2004-03-31T19:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-31T19:27:18.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Elevator Feth FeebesI’m normally a very unflappable person; it takes a lot to agitate me. Even in Metro Manila traffic, I’ve learned how to control my road rage tendencies.But there’s one place where the behavior of people can still get my goat: the office elevators.I hate it when people use the elevator to climb or go down one floor. There are signs saying, “Stay healthy and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108073205788212392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108073205788212392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108073205788212392' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108064328038182743</id><published>2004-03-30T18:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T18:50:39.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Banned In China?Got this email from Daniel: Just got back from China. Was amused to discover your blog is "banned" (or "couldn't be accessed") in China.  Does this mean some Chinese guy is monitoring your blog for adult content, hmmm.... hahaha!Gosh, I feel so honored.But wait. I admit I have a weakness for chinese men—their chinky eyes, their lean bodies (look closely at the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108064328038182743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108064328038182743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108064328038182743' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108063808181493691</id><published>2004-03-30T17:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T17:20:29.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Car Love(Cue in music: Queen’s “I’m In Love With My Car”)Ahhh! I’m back in Orlando’s arms again!Orlando is my 3-yr old Vitara. Yesterday I took him back to the casa for his 40,000-km preventive maintenance. That usually means change oil, check brakes, over-all check-up to ensure he’s running in peak condition. Since the shop was swamped with other cars, I was told to pick him up </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108063808181493691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108063808181493691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108063808181493691' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108062033531521039</id><published>2004-03-30T12:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-30T12:24:43.750+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: On Episodes, Delayed Or OtherwiseYes, folks, I have been preoccupied for the past few days. For more details, check out Kerv’s blog, hehehe!In the meantime, people have complained to me about not updating The McVie Show. But I’ve also noticed that whenever I post too many episodes in one day, some of them end up being “snubbed” (in other words, no comment ang mga utash!)So let me </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108062033531521039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108062033531521039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108062033531521039' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108054514521989875</id><published>2004-03-29T15:24:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-29T16:19:56.403+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Call Me Two-Phone McVieI am now a surprised owner of a Nokia 6100.Okay Kervs and Leigh, before you both cry, “Traitor!” and label me a Sony Ericsson turncoat, let me explain. The Nokia is an office-issued phone. My former immediate supervisor resigned because her family’s immigrating to the US. Thus the phone issued to her has been passed on to yours truly. Now all my business </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108054514521989875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108054514521989875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108054514521989875' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108021565157812064</id><published>2004-03-25T19:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T20:04:39.593+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Next Kuya “Master Entertainer” GermsSo I’m going down the stairs when I bump into this famous female director going up. She and I know each other because I’ve presented some stuff to her before. So I say hi to her. She, for whatever reason, may have felt she needed to say something more to me. So she says, “Hey, you have a nice body.”That threw me off. First of all, she’s not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108021565157812064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108021565157812064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108021565157812064' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108018820313115036</id><published>2004-03-25T12:16:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-25T12:20:11.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: GreetingsHAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO DEAREST KERVS!!!Fire Horse Fish jumps hoops of joy while wiggling tail. :-)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108018820313115036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108018820313115036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108018820313115036' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108014198077968525</id><published>2004-03-24T23:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-24T23:29:48.280+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Name GameMy TA friends had this name game: combine the names of two famous celebrities and come up with a composite name. For example: Mary Walter + Walter Navarro = Mary Walter Navarro.Thus we have Olivia Newton-John Travolta, Weird Al Tantay, Ara Mina Gabor, Billy Joan Crawford, Carmina Villaroel Vernal, Van Dolphy, Jean Claude Van Gogh, Joey Lina Magdangal, Bo Derek Paulate, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108014198077968525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108014198077968525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108014198077968525' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108005263239794006</id><published>2004-03-23T22:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-24T09:38:45.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Tests &amp; SurveyONEWho does McVie look like?[a] Billy Crystal[b] Usher[c] Ron Rifkin (Arvin Sloan in the TV series “Alias”)[d] none of the aboveTWOYou meet the man/girl of your dreams. He/she is also interested in you. Alas, he/she is married. You have an opportunity to tell him/her your true feelings. What would you do?[a] Tell him/her and damn the consequences.[b] Do not tell</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108005263239794006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108005263239794006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108005263239794006' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108004405044111019</id><published>2004-03-23T20:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-23T20:17:36.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Leigh Down Your ResultsTaking the cue from Leigh’s blog, I took the Baron-Cohen Brain Type Test. Here are the results:I scored 45 on the EMPATHY QUOTIENT: I have an average ability for understanding how other people feel and responding appropriately. I know how to treat people with care and sensitivity. Most men score about 42. And I scored 35 on the SYSTEMIZING QUOTIENT: I have an </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108004405044111019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108004405044111019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108004405044111019' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108004064997287838</id><published>2004-03-23T19:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-24T16:40:53.170+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Hada HierarchySo I’m buying some groceries when this really cute, bespectacled guy starts eyeing me. I stare back. He walks on, glancing back at me. So I follow. He enters the john. I follow. He locks the door. I make my move. But before anything can happen, the door handle jiggles; someone’s trying to get in. We pretend to ignore each other as he opens the door. In comes this 16-</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108004064997287838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108004064997287838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108004064997287838' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108003523427332201</id><published>2004-03-23T17:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-23T17:50:40.013+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Unique WilsonHeard on The Morning Rush with Chico and Delamar radio show: “You are unique… just like everybody else.”Uniqueness in and of itself is not unique. Unique is common; the word is qualified by its antonym.When someone tells you “You’re unique,” remember that it’s on the same level as saying “You have a nose,” or “You have two feet.” So what’s so special about being unique</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108003523427332201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108003523427332201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108003523427332201' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-108003519269827855</id><published>2004-03-23T17:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-23T18:01:15.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Un-Holy WeekHoly Week is fast approaching. Before my friends and I would go out of town on vacation. But we realized that every year the beaches and Baguio were becoming more and more crowded. Thus we decided to go against the flow and stay in Manila.Manila during that week is a dead city. All establishments are closed, like Christ’s tomb. Well, the churches are open, but hey, I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108003519269827855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/108003519269827855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#108003519269827855' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107987703491490252</id><published>2004-03-21T21:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-21T21:53:58.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The McVie Top 5 (week of 15-21 March 2004)In honor of the “hook”, I’m going to identify the “hooks” which hooked me to the following songs:[5 / last week: 4] I Miss You / Blink 182It’s the droning “Miss you, miss you…” background vocals and the piano playing the melody towards the end of the song.[4 / last week: 3] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of WayneThe guitar “twang!” just before “</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107987703491490252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107987703491490252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107987703491490252' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107987548399549387</id><published>2004-03-21T21:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-21T21:28:28.810+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: I Love My Pet Shop BoysIt dawned on me only after getting the “Pet Shop Boys The Hits” boxed-set (thanks, Daniel!) just how big a fan I was of PSB. I have all their albums including greatest hits compilations and remixes.PSB offers smart lyrics wrapped in catchy tunes that speak of truths about living and being gay. Neil Tennant supplies most of the lyrics while Chris Lowe does most </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107987548399549387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107987548399549387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107987548399549387' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107958376232332010</id><published>2004-03-18T12:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-18T12:28:24.686+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>News Report: Nippit! Nippit Good!excerpts from the article “The Brave New World Of Cellphone Add-Ons” by David Benjamin in CommsDesign.com, Feb 26, 2004 (thank you, Xander)CANNES, France – In the ever-escalating struggle to add consumer-tempting features to mobile telephones, the most inventive—and probably most socially responsible—new add-on introduced here at the 3GSM World Congress was a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107958376232332010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107958376232332010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107958376232332010' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107953603548649459</id><published>2004-03-17T23:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-17T23:17:54.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Maximum McOverdriveDaniel asked me if I feel like I’m “not maximizing my talents.” I ask, “Maximizing in what way?” (I can see Leigh smiling and shaking her head now. Private joke, excuse me.)One can focus on a talent (or two) and just be the best there. Or one can try and make use of most—if not all—of one’s talents. I’m the latter.I’m a multi-skilled, multi-interest person who </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107953603548649459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107953603548649459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107953603548649459' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107952771414610447</id><published>2004-03-17T20:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-17T21:00:05.843+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Making My MarkAfter meeting up with my peers in advertising, I realized that they are earning much more and are in higher-ranking positions than I do. Living in a material world, they’re considered more successful than me.It’s when that thought hits me unexpectedly that it stings the most. Luckily the cut’s not too deep; what’s more, it only lasts a few seconds. Then my ever-active </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107952771414610447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107952771414610447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107952771414610447' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107949842220026780</id><published>2004-03-17T12:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-17T12:44:15.060+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>NEWS ADVISORY: DO NOT FEED YOUR DOG(S) PEDIGREE FROM THAILAND!!!The following is an email from my friend, Manu. He wants to warn cat owners as well.According to a press release today (INQUIRER, MARCH 17, 2004, PAGE A23), the Pedigree dog food from Pakchong, Thailand "... was suspected of causing renal problems of dogs in Taiwan, South Korea, Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines. The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107949842220026780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107949842220026780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107949842220026780' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107949753278654042</id><published>2004-03-17T11:08:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-17T12:30:53.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Hanging Out With PeersIt was a refreshing though tiring afternoon yesterday, as I sat in the panel while around 12 or so groups of students presented their ad campaigns. One group nailed it, from big idea down to execution—we panelists commented only on the finer details. This was a better batch over-all than last year.We finished late, so we panelists decided to have dinner together</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107949753278654042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107949753278654042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107949753278654042' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107941878058562052</id><published>2004-03-16T14:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-16T14:36:16.496+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Up, Up And Away To UP!This afternoon around 3:30pm I’m going to the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts to be a panelist in the thesis presentation of Marlon’s visual communications class. I was a panelist last year, and I enjoyed myself immensely.Aside from seeing cute teen boys (hehehe!) I get to see how the kids of today are, academically-speaking. Last year I saw </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107941878058562052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107941878058562052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107941878058562052' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107941763835473073</id><published>2004-03-16T13:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-16T14:17:14.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Megamall-ingFor the first time in a very long while, I went to Megamall to watch a movie during a weekday evening.Before I was a mall rat. I would go almost every night to the different malls around the area, depending on my mood. Movie, music-magazine-and-book browsing? Megamall. Look for original region 1 DVDs? Shang. Movie, but I’m running a little late already? SM City North. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107941763835473073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107941763835473073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107941763835473073' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107934620132113928</id><published>2004-03-15T18:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-15T18:26:36.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Humph!So I had a very, very happy birthday last weekend, but today I was brought down to earth.Last Friday the regular viewers of The McVie Show greeted me, and so did a lot of my officemates (all through SMS since I was on leave).That left most of my theater friends. But since we usually greet each other via email (alumni and students have their own respective e-groups), I wasn’t </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107934620132113928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107934620132113928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107934620132113928' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107933444746882634</id><published>2004-03-15T13:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-15T15:16:35.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Ghosts Of Lovers’ Past*****Dramatis Personae:Anchor – Remember my Feb. 3 episode about my once-friend? Back then I wrote: “If I see him one of these days I’ll greet him belated happy birthday.” I also wrote: “I think Leigh and he had something interesting going for a while, but things fell through. At least that’s how I remember it.”*****So last Saturday I met up with Leigh who </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107933444746882634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107933444746882634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107933444746882634' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107926491513218961</id><published>2004-03-14T19:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-14T19:51:48.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The McVie Top 5 (week of 08-14 March 2004)[5 / last week: 5] Milkshake / KelisI just recently heard the remix and it helped extend this song’s stay in my chart.[4 / last week: 3] I Miss You / Blink 182This is one song which latches on to me swiftly, but also slides off just as easily.[3 / last week: 1] Stacy’s Mom / Fountains Of WayneOkay, Stacy’ mom has started to slip down the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107926491513218961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107926491513218961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107926491513218961' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107923033819495468</id><published>2004-03-14T10:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-14T10:15:31.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Thank YousFriday (and Saturday) turned out to be one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. As is, EVER. And I have several people to thank for that, in chronological order:My parents, for doing “it” and having me 38 years ago.My boss, Cindy, for allowing me to go on leave.Nelz, thank you for your collection of poems, which you took time out to produce in CD form. You’ll give the “</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107923033819495468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107923033819495468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107923033819495468' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-10790240946900248</id><published>2004-03-12T00:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-12T00:58:44.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Birthday Greetings!Happy birthday to me!Happy birthday to me!Happy birthday, happy birthday...Happy birthday to me!The Piscean Fire Horse is officially 38 years old as of today.Wheee!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/10790240946900248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/10790240946900248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#10790240946900248' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107901817232710630</id><published>2004-03-11T17:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-11T23:19:22.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: I Can Be Such A Killjoy….In our office, our department has this tradition of pulling an elaborate surprise on a birthday celebrant. I’ve been an accomplice to many a Victim-like ruse. One time we made our colleague believe that Senator Loren Legarda was personally angry at him for the supposedly “lousy” plug he produced for her show; when “she” called him on his cellphone, it was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107901817232710630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107901817232710630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107901817232710630' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107898036322786761</id><published>2004-03-11T10:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-11T16:02:20.450+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Station ID Plug: SCENE: a round table with several chairs, a microphone in the middle. Spotlight on the microphone.Then McVie, followed by (in alphabetical order) Daniel/Daniella, Kervs, Leigh, Nelz, Randy and Xander, come in and sit down on the chairs. They all look at one another, smiling, eyeing one another. McVie slaps his palm down on the table, one-two-three. The rest follow suit. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107898036322786761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107898036322786761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107898036322786761' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107893137753346639</id><published>2004-03-10T23:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-10T23:19:32.700+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Meet Marlon***** Dramatis Personae:Marlon – before there was a Diyosa Nelz, there was… the Goddess Marlon. Chief Emeritus of the Beauty Police Squad. Style personified. Queen of all trades, master of the universe. We are so not worthy.*****First time I met Marlon, he was the TA seamstress. He directed a one-act play, but if I remember correctly his lead actor wasn’t very </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107893137753346639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107893137753346639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107893137753346639' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107892387672168573</id><published>2004-03-10T20:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-10T21:08:14.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Ghost In You 2More ghostly sightings in our office: Haley said that the little girl in the cubicle of Sir Johnny hides under his desk. And last night when she was passing by the open door of our boss’ office (our boss had already left by this time, so the lights in her room were switched off), she saw more than a dozen hands reaching out, trying to grab hold of something or </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107892387672168573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107892387672168573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107892387672168573' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107883964315982738</id><published>2004-03-09T21:40:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-09T22:01:44.653+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Dedicated To Erick/RandyIn the audience participation portion of the “Songs In The Key Of L” episode, our dear Erick/Randy posted something very interesting:see... this is what makes me insecure about you guys... you quote poetry... you talk of novels... books... scents i can not even pronounce... you are ...so intelligent! I am not worthy !!! Randy | 03.09.04 - 6:57 amI just HAD </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107883964315982738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107883964315982738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107883964315982738' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107883762667167138</id><published>2004-03-09T21:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-09T21:12:17.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Brain TestJoel, you are Balanced-brained. That means you are able to draw on the strengths of both the right and left hemispheres of your brain, depending upon a given situation. When you need to explain a complicated process to someone, or plan a detailed vacation, the left hemisphere of your brain, which is responsible for your ability to solve problems logically, might kick in</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107883762667167138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107883762667167138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107883762667167138' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107882842988997691</id><published>2004-03-09T18:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-09T18:38:08.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Translation“Diosa sa tuktok ng bundokNagliliab na pinilakang apoyRurok ng ganda’t pag-ibig...Venus ang pangalan niya.May regla!O sanggol, may regla...!”(“Goddess on a mountain top Burning like a silver flame Summit of beauty and love…And Venus was her name.She’s got it!Yeah, baby, she’s got it...!”)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107882842988997691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107882842988997691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107882842988997691' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107882214260449147</id><published>2004-03-09T16:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-09T16:54:06.780+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: DisappointmentsWe all have disappointments in life, but for me the deeper cuts happen when I’m disappointed by people, especially those who matter to me.My first disappointment was with my dad. He was less Bill Huxtable and more Harry Boyle type of dad (but even then Harry was funnier.) Then I found out my dad grew up without a father-figure; after that, I made peace with my dad. (I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107882214260449147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107882214260449147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107882214260449147' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107881316869176590</id><published>2004-03-09T13:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-09T14:22:35.200+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: My Sense Of Humor Is……BanterLike a king of pinball, you’ve made an art of playing off of people because your sense of humor is all about banter. Like many great comedians before you, a roundtable of friends, or a roomful of targets, is the catalyst for what makes you laugh. It brings out the wit—and sometimes the nitwit—in everyone. It’s quantity, not quality that matters as you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107881316869176590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107881316869176590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107881316869176590' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107874276618267852</id><published>2004-03-08T18:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-08T18:50:13.856+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Ghost In You….*****Dramatis Personae:Haley – our latest employee to join the promo group; she’s a fresh graduate, this is her first job*****We have a new officemate, let’s call her Haley. Her third eye is very open. She can see what many people in our office have suspected all along. She sees dead people.This afternoon, at the editing suite: we have three playback machines </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107874276618267852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107874276618267852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107874276618267852' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107873393361127581</id><published>2004-03-08T16:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-08T16:21:58.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Songs In The Key Of LLast weekend my Dear played the song “This Guy’s In Love With You” by Herb Alpert for me. I’ve always loved the song; in fact, I’ve already a movie scene in mind using that particular song.SCENE:	Late in the evening. Lead guy runs to girl’s house to finally declare his love for her. He runs into a street vendor selling flowers; he buys them all to give to her. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107873393361127581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107873393361127581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107873393361127581' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107873215257377776</id><published>2004-03-08T14:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-08T15:52:17.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The McVie Top 5 (week of 01-07 March 2004)[5 / last week: 4] Milkshake / KelisShe’s bobbing up and down my charts, still holding on for dear life.[4 / last week: 3] Shut Up / Black Eyed PeasAnother song that’s hanging on, though it’s slowly sliding off.[3 / last week: 1] I Miss You / Blink 182After one week on top, this Blink 182 song slips to third place. I actually find it </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107873215257377776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107873215257377776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107873215257377776' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107849347226136784</id><published>2004-03-05T21:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-05T21:34:13.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Visually Stimulating EpisodeRandy wanted to find out what is it in a man’s body that I find visually stimulating… in a sexual way, of course. The following, in no particular order:[1] underarm hair peeking out of short sleeves[2] hair from belly-button trailing down to... heaven below[3] well-developed pecs and shoulders[4] tight, strong buns[5] muscular thighsNow, what </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107849347226136784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107849347226136784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107849347226136784' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107849330223604963</id><published>2004-03-05T18:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-05T21:31:23.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: One Last TestTickle's Original Inkblot TestJoel, your subconscious mind is driven most by Kindness. You have a deep desire to be kind and fair to others. You are preoccupied with finding kindness in the world around you, far more than you may realize on a conscious level. This makes you unusually empathetic and very sensitive to other people's feelings. Your kind nature makes you an </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107849330223604963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107849330223604963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107849330223604963' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107848302770432104</id><published>2004-03-05T18:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-05T18:41:42.250+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Two More TestsYour Ideal Sexual PartnerJoel, your ideal sexual partner is a Type 10. A Type 10 partner is devoted to giving you the best, and is brave enough to try new things — just to see if they work for the two of you. Just when you thought it couldn't get any more pleasurable, your Type 10 will push it one more step towards ecstasy. And it doesn't end there. This person isn't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107848302770432104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107848302770432104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107848302770432104' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107841114192179770</id><published>2004-03-04T22:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-05T12:24:22.590+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Tests, Tests And More TestsWhile waiting for my editor to finish, I decided to take some on-line tests care of Tickle.com. Of course the full results I can only get if I pay, which I cannot since I don’t have a credit card nor a dollar account. So I’m just posting the preview of the results.Discover Your Sexual PersonalityJoel, your sexual personality is Omega-PLDN-9. Your sexual </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107841114192179770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107841114192179770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107841114192179770' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107839280469781323</id><published>2004-03-04T16:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-04T23:51:19.373+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Coffee ComedyI really enjoy going to Starbucks with my TA friends. We think of the craziest things. For example, we noticed how the baristas ask for the customer’s name so that they can announce their orders properly:“Your name, ma’am?” “Marisse.” “Iced mocha latte for Marisse!” “Your name, sir?” “Joel.” “Short soy white mocha for Joel!” We wondered what would happen if we gave </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107839280469781323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107839280469781323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107839280469781323' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107831947077953850</id><published>2004-03-03T13:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-03T21:14:09.543+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Stage ReminiscingToday was a rather busy but ordinary day. Looked at The Show and panicked. What, no episode for today?! That cannot be! Times like these, I don’t need a Juicy; I need to recycle stuff. And so looking at my old documents, I came across the following....Dr. Ricky Abad, artistic director of Tanghalang Ateneo, once asked the TA alumni to answer the following question: “</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107831947077953850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107831947077953850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107831947077953850' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107820999561321429</id><published>2004-03-02T14:46:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-04T23:45:44.560+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: “I Am The Dancing Queen!” Says Pattie PicacheLest you, my dear audience, think that The McVie Show is going to turn all-mushy and become a love story… pish posh! Heaven forbid.Love is like the song “Pamela” sung by Vhong Navarro. I cannot escape it—it lodges in my brain and refuses to leave. So I give in to it and even learn how to dance the steps. I can’t say I dance better than </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107820999561321429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107820999561321429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107820999561321429' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107820922795375369</id><published>2004-03-02T14:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-02T14:36:44.670+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: The Heat Is OnToday I decided to be brave. Today I decided to take a chance.Today I decided to not play it safe.Today I decided I would not be a control freak.I’ve longed all my life to have a lover, and now that he’s here, I’ve tried to play safe, be sure, make things so perfect I’m practically choking it to death even before love can grow.Summer is here. The heat is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107820922795375369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107820922795375369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107820922795375369' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107814086830343862</id><published>2004-03-01T19:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-01T19:38:07.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Obviously I’m Not That Busy TodayI took an online IQ test and got 129 which is quite high enough. The test result says: “Joel, you are a Visionary Philosopher. This means you are highly intelligent and have a powerful mix of skills and insight that can be applied in a variety of different ways.”Whoopee-doo, ho-hum.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107814086830343862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107814086830343862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107814086830343862' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107813604686561554</id><published>2004-03-01T18:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-01T18:17:54.436+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: It’s Getting Hot Out Thurrr…!Because we have editing machines, our office is always on very cold to near freezing temperatures. This gives us in the office an excuse to whip out our faux furs and leather jackets and—at the height of the Estrada impeachment—pashminas ala-Legarda for the ladies. To thaw out I’d go out of the office for lunch or grab some coffee in the afternoon. Today </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107813604686561554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107813604686561554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107813604686561554' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6356234.post-107813122995911208</id><published>2004-03-01T16:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2004-03-01T16:56:45.153+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Episode: Do Not Put Us To The Test...Pakshet! And I promised myself I will not take these silly on-line tests.Aphrodite/Eros ?? Which Of The Greek Gods Are You ?? brought to you by QuizillaSo SHOOT me.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107813122995911208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6356234/posts/default/107813122995911208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcvie.blogspot.com/2004_03_01_archive.html#107813122995911208' title=''/><author><name>joelmcvie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18271791181683397711</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5oLEybzPCjA/TeOyd9qMWmI/AAAAAAAADFI/1GyqcwNGOgo/s220/baguio7.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
