Sunday, May 29, 2011

LET US GIVE IT TO THE WOMEN THIS TIME
By: Iris P. Concepcion

There is an ascension to neanderthal deliverance cum Broadway today. These girls are pliant, daring, free, risk takers, upfront and I can sense a certain fight stance that had me impressed more than ever. The rendition of The Impossible Dream is tremendously fight.

First off, there is this nod to the higher beings of music. The arrangement is knowing; it takes guts to pull them off. Understated too, as they downplay their use of make-up. They do not carry around heavy luggages of paint make-overs. I know them as spawns of this horribly good-looking 145-year old Salingerish guru with a penchant to annoy people. This group is potent when they work together. Give them a crappy platform, a bad weather, irreverent hecklers and they always pull it off with class in the end.

I mean, how can you get stressed when you know there is a a bangy laughter that shall cap off the routine? It never fails. Even their backpacks are molded the same. Even when asleep, I'd know how they shall sew their clothes or when they shall form their grins.

Nonetheless, I could not sense their unique manner of pulling off surprises. Dads are a hooty; offspring, hootier.

Actually, I hate this 145 relic. Earlier, he put out his best cabinet wardrobe and would not even allow me to touch the goods. They look super extra ordinary. I just zipped my mouth but was salivating over the deep range of textile. Especially the 8 signage of Converse stating: Choose Your Weapon. In yellow and blue, this is a counter to Stella McCartney's unique sports gear.

I think they had been bored by their Mom's plateau of contentment. Hence, they anger her.

Let them have their fun. It is due them. Mom did not link a story of one of the sons since a lot of his pictures are missing. I especially loved Margarita Fores' buffet ensemble, topping off some skulls and bones.

You couldn't fool these rugrats. Rated A stoops.

I am just kidding.

And thus we wait for our travelogue stories in Paris. Errr, the land.

I love G and the kids!