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KAPUSO O KAPUKI? ‘Eat Bulaga’ – The Unforgettable Experience in Toronto

The News UpFront: (TOP STORY) as of Saturday, April 12, 2014 

 

~  “Kapuso” or “kapuki”? That question has found an answer in Toronto, thanks to the organizers of that sleazy show called “Eat Bulaga”. The nerve center of the soul has been replaced by the nerve center of lust, so “kapuso” becomes “kapuki”, for the most part exemplified by the rapists and sex offenders in residence at “Eat Bulaga”. Their presence in Canada’s largest city also uncovered the wicked community leaders and followers among us. On the other hand, it also highlights the true Filipino tradition of respect for women – this, solely brought out by a small group of concerned Filipinos who’d come out to express their outrage at the gall of these rapists to set aside the gang-rape of a 14-year-old girl may years ago. The gang-rape has become a battle cry!

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“You keep the title of ‘president’ even if you served only one term. The same goes for rapists.” ― Christy Leigh Stewart

 

 

TORONTO – I meant to ask them about their gang-rape of 14-year-old starlet named Pepsi Paloma and why, after more than 30 years after the assault and her death, they parade themselves as wholesome entertainers during one of those valued moments in a Filipino family – at lunch.

 

The trio of rapists, minus one whose whereabouts are unknown, and their retinue of slapstick comedians and sex maniacs descended on Canada’s largest city to amuse the Filipino community with their cheap antics. 

 

The poor Filipinos who don’t know much about them from three decades ago simply lapped up expensive tickets to watch these comedians, not so much for what they mouth in toilet humour but for the need to release unwanted energy from weeks of hard work. 

 

Flatulence it is, and with the assist of the rapists and maniacs dishing out their usual cockamamie stories, the stinky gas seeps out almost unnoticed. In that sense, these comedians are quite a help. Other than that, they’re a bunch of perverts on the lookout for the many opportunities that Eat Bulaga presents.

 

The young women are theirs to pick, specially those seeking instant glory, except that in exchange for the promised fame and some money, their most treasured possession are surrendered and enjoyed anytime the maniacs beckon.

 

But then, this good-looking girl with intelligence to boot must truly be in love, or how else to explain entering into a relationship with a guy older than her father. Kapuso ba or kapuki? and I don’t mean to be rude in mentioning the Tagalog word for woman’s genitalia.

 

I honestly doubt the heart (kapuso) part. More likely, and this is my opinion, it’s the vagina (kapuki) part – a conclusion I reach after reviewing this grandfather’s alleged love relations with women, some of them plucked from the Eat Bulaga stable. Aren’t they family?

 

He sits her on his lap, his arms reaching to the other in a tight embrace of her body. The current “her” simply reprises the former “her” in the same seating position, his face a picture of delight that, to me, reflects his burning, insatiable lust. Kapuso or kapuki? It’s the latter.

 

Lust seems so overwhelming for him that he has defied normal convention. The signs were already there, only the women turn a blind eye as they continue the quest for fame and money. Where’s the proof then?

 

The gang-rape of a 14-year-old girl, a starlet whose screen name was Pepsi Paloma, must be a grim reminder of the possibilities that his dearly beloved daughters face every day of their lives. God forbids, but it could happen to them. It could also happen to the children of the other rapists.

 

Makes me wonder why this Toronto fundraiser who has three daughters would strut like a peacock in having her picture taken with him and with another who is also a kapuki. Proof? Just view his video having sexual intercourse with a young Eat Bulaga dancer and you’ll see why kapuso has become kapuki. Again, aren’t they family?

 

Money must be this fundraiser’s god. To get more of it, she’s readily and smilingly willing to promote herself with the rapists; in fact, even met with them at the airport on the night of their arrival from Manila. Her loyalty is to herself.

 

And what does that tell us? Simple. She has no respect for values. She has no decency. She disregards women, and by extension, her daughters. She’s insensitive. She has no ethics. She’s much too vain.

 

And there were fanatics who went with her too, the blind loyalists who happily obliged her and the rapists and sex maniacs, such as the loathsome functionaries whose hostility even surpasses the madame fundraiser’s. These fanatics also have daughters who could be in a situation similar to Pepsi Paloma – drugged, gang-raped, then wasted.

 

The rapists and sex maniacs of Eat Bulaga sell their cheap gimmicks – and there are buyers! – as entertainment, knowing it would tranquilize people and make them forget about their daily struggles. It’s a diversion, an amusement.

 

For the last three decades at least, they succeeded, almost succeeded, in making people forget about their past. Thanks for bringing Eat Bulaga to Toronto, the rape – not just a rape but a gang rape, meaning by more than one person after another – and death of Pepsi Paloma is alive again.

 

From this day on, the rapists and sex maniacs will never forget Toronto. And it’s not because of the allegedly sold out tickets for their kapuso or kapuki show. Neither is it because they were disrobed here and people now see their soulless glitter and empty shell.

 

Toronto is unforgettable because it is here where concerned Filipinos took a stand against sexual offenders and where violence against women is condemned, not condone. The fall starts in Toronto.

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