I’m not killing this blog just yet but all my future entries will be at


Thanks and see you there!


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Please Tell Mr. Ninomiya Kazunari…

If you know Mr. Ninomiya Kazunari, please tell him that I love him. I may not be “in love” with him but I love him. So bad. I’m aware that there are a hundred million other fangirls around the world who probably say the same thing, who proclaim their undying love for him by flashing their boobies screaming their lungs out during concerts and buying every single version of their albums… In the greater scheme of things, I know that am but a nobody.

Please tell him, however that despite the fact that I haven’t met him in person and that there’s clearly a huge language barrier between us (the only Japanese phrases I’ve perfected are “Hai. Sou desu.” and “Ganbarimasu! Fight-o!”), he had affected me in ways a lot of people won’t even understand. I fell for him hard the first time I watched his performace of Konseki. I think I died that night when I realized he wrote that song himself. And the more I listened to his self-made music, the more I found myself getting lost in his awesomeness.



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I Love Guys Without Balls! (and Lance Bass is totally straight)

– I thought of making a disclaimer that this is a non-male-bashin’ post but I decided not to. Take it however you want and please don’t make assumptions as to what evoked me to write this entry. –

“Akala ko iba ka. Akala ko ‘di ka tulad nila. Wala ka rin palang bayag. (I thought you were different. I thought you were not one of them. You, too, don’t have balls afterall.)”

I have long realized that one of the major reasons why I’m not too lucky with guys is because I think I have bigger balls than many of them. Sorry if this sounds cocky lolz. cock and balls in one paragraph ftw! but maybe, just maybe, it’s ‘coz I hang out with people my age, most of whom are still very insecured. I do not discount the fact, however, that (and I’ve been told this by A LLOOOTTT of people) I can be fierce and intimidating and look like I’m ready to slice off peens anytime.

But yeah, one of my pet peeves are guys without balls and I do mean that figuratively. I don’t discriminate against eunuchs and castrati, okay? I even made a list of the different kids of GWB’s (guys without balls) for mah ladies so they can stay away from ’em.

1. “I have no balls that’s why I can’t fight for you.”

So you’ve been dating this guy and things are going well between both of you and then all of a sudden, over dinner, he tells you that you should stop seeing each other. Whoah WTF. Where’d that come from? Like a total wuss that he is, he then apologizes and explains that his friends and family talked to him about you and gave their disapproval (because you’re Pinoy and he’s Chinese or he’s from an affluent family and you’re not or they learned about your past and his mom went berserk).

I’m not saying I’m the biggest fan of the “you and me against the world” kind of relationships but why go out in the first place with someone whom you know your family would disapprove of? Oh, right. ‘Coz you’re an idiot.



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Are You Smarter Than… 98% of the World’s Population?

-That chic on the video may or may not be me-

The last time I took an IQ test (a few months ago), I got a score of 127. It’s supposedly “superior”, with only about 6.7% of the population having IQ that high. Well, yeah. I took it on tickle, the same website which has tests to find out whether you’re a pirate or a ninja or who your red carpet match is. Truly, it’s reliable.

So when my boss, who happens to be the prez of Mensa Philippines asked me to take the test, I was obviously hesitant. I mean, what if I fail? What if I’m not Top 2% material? What if I find out that in reality my IQ level is really… 65? In the end I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, gathered up my courage and decided to take it because I know that no matter what happens, Mensa or no Mensa, Imma be a star… LOLZ.

Mensa is the largest, oldest, and best known high-IQ society in the world. It is a non-profit organization open to people who score at the 98th percentile or higher on a standardized, supervised intelligence test.

98%. Deym.



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Of Solid Perfumes, Brazilian Models and Mario Dumawal

These, my friends, are the reasons why I haven’t blogged in almost a month.

Since early October, my team and I have been working on an event, which honestly, was much bigger than what I had expected- The Estee Lauder Holiday Spectacular. Much as I’d like to share more details about what we went through in putting it together, I’d rather keep mum about it or I’d lose my job and maybe upset some people. So everything you’d read here would be about rainbows and butterflies and yes, solid perfumes. Effing expensive ones at that.

(Let me just make a disclaimer that the young and beautiful Marketing Manager of Estee Lauder Philippines, Crystal Lee, allowed me to write about this…)

So the event was held last November 11 at The Gallerie of Rustan’s Makati. Sorry if this may sound brash or whatev but man, our set was just… whoah wtf. Red carpet everywhere, posh cocktail tables, showcase displays adorned with the exclusive Estee Lauder solid perfumes (more on that later), and may I not forget the humongous Gwyneth Paltrow backdrop.

Just like in any other events we’ve done in the past, we were a bunch of nerves prior to the start of the program. And when I say prior, I mean 2 weeks prior. (Oh gawd, I’m really itching to tell you of the things that almost made me punch some people in the face but I R A PROFESHUNUL and shall zip my lips and just keep you guessing *winks ala Sarah Palin*)



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A Letter to Myself 10 Years from Now

When I was in 5th or 6th grade, I started to keep a journal where I wrote down all my thoughts and secrets. From my frustrations with the exam results, to my friend’s story that she’s being molested by her lolo, to my own version of chicken soup for the soul, except mine’s tuknene and isaw. It would’ve been nice if I can read again what I wrote then and maybe tap into my old self. Unfortunately, however, I’m an idiot who buried that journal in our backyard (in a “time capsule”) and we have since built a new house over the it.

Much thanks to the internet, I can now keep a journal and read it anytime, anywhere. And so, I’ve decided to write a letter, addressed to my self ten years from now. By then, I’d be 33, and maybe, just maybe… I’d still be very happy.

Dear 33 y/o Kring,

How are you? I honestly hope and pray that you’re doing well and that things have turned out the way you planned them to. Have you seen the world yet? I know you have always wanted to do that, to get out of this place, not to run away from it all but to experience the world as it was made to be. By now, I’d assume you’ve been to Japan, Australia and The Holy Land already. Okay, the last one may be a stretch but I at least wish you’re well-traveled.

Okay, this is really what I want to know- are you on your way to being the first female to ever create an empire in the country/region? Please, I beg of you, do not tell me you’re still doing segments and small shows like the ones I’m doing now because you know you can do much better. EMPIRE. Don’t you dare forget. EMPIRE. And how many films have you done already? Have you won awards yet? Please tell me you’ve also met and your heroes Gwak Jae Young, Wong Kar Wai and Iwai Shunji or have at least done something that would make them proud. EMPIRE.



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Names and Such

If you noticed, I don’t really do memes (well, I don’t “do” a lot of things, yanno. *nudge nudge* ^_^) but since it was The Noisy Man who tagged me and the topic is something I’d actually write about, I figured, why not? Well, I’m supposed to share the different names that different people call/has called me but I’m sure none of you really give a shit. Heh, I’m still doing the meme anyway.

Well, I have a weird name, albeit it has character. In fact, a lot people remember me because of it. KRING. C’mon. How can you forget that? Sure, it sounds jologs and funny but I actually have a very posh and non-ghei name on my birth certificate.

Sheena Jeanne (not “jin”. It’s French, bitch. ) Krystle – I think my parents were under the influence when they were thinking of a name for me. They were never a creative, artsy couple so it still boggles me that they came up with such a long, oddly-spelled name. I like it though. I mean, no offense meant but I just can’t imagine myself named… Anna. Or Joan. or Michelle.

Sheena – Unless you were gradeschool classmate or teacher, DO NOT call me this, I swear.



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