Jocjoc's joke isn't funny at all

Pathetic acting.

This is how I describe Bolante’s dramatic joke of clutching his chest for alleged chest pains upon arrival at the airport. Interestingly though, the doctors tell us that his problem is ulcer.

Can some theater arts group conduct an acting workshop on this scumbag? Can some prompter please shout, “Stick to the script!”

If he thought his “joke” made people laugh—or pity him—he’s dead wrong. Nobody believed that he was really suffering from whatever ailment—ulcer, hypertension, or hyperulcer for that matter. Nobody cares—or at least I don’t—whether he’s dying or what. After all, did he even care if the Filipino people were dying out of hunger when they squandered the 700 billion fertilizer funds to campaign his illegitimate boss?

The real people experiencing such pains are the Filipino people from which they have robbed. We clutch our chests for we can’t bare such poor acting, such lame jokes, such blunt corruption and outright crime against us. We squeeze our stomachs—together with our pockets—for we cannot fill ourselves with our immediate needs such as food, shelter, clothing, education, and health services.