A sleeping giant. A perfect portrait for Serafin who seems too engrossed with deciphering all the technical jargons that makes up his six stinged sanctuary. But for what? A doubting question that party bands can not seem to answer properly except for citing the dough. Upon meeting Ahmad, it was automatic. The answer. Yes, the answer...
Froilan is counting his age. You can’t help it if you’re in your late twenties and you’ve been teaching Christian values (and to think that music was really his first love…..aside from the string of marmalades that went in and out his stinky fingers..) to hormone driven creatures. What else to do? I know, he said. Cheesy, but first love never dies...
Matt , with his who-the-hell-cares-as-long-as-there's-alcohol" charisma makes him the perfect epitome of coolness to balance the clean guy image of the three. He has practically grown in the smoke filled caverns of entertainment, molding him into one fuck of a beat boy. trading his expertise to some cringe worthy showbands to double thumping metal dudes, he learned the trade and learned it well. This is just another venue...
The itch just won’t go away……It was like a vacuum sucking his sanity for the hell of it...so Ahmad , being the neurotic poet that he is, resorted to another catastrophe that he thinks will be the cure to all these self imposed disorders...that catastrophe is called “ thE pEpsi paLoMa ExpErimEntâ€â€¦
