“It was the classic cheerleader meets the debate team captain story,” RJ Ledesma says about how he and wife Vanessa Pastor-Ledesma first knew of each other. “But I never knew what she saw in a cheerleader like me.”

The funnyman is at it again. It was he, of course, who was the debate team captain and she, the “hot chick cheerleader commercial Penshoppe model.” In RJ’s own words, he was “at the lower rung of the ladder.” That he was Royal Tru-Orange’s main (and to this day, most popular) endorser didn’t mean much to Vanessa, who grew up in the U.S. “My robust popularity had no effect on her,” RJ, 35, rues.

For those who don’t know RJ (and I assume if you don’t, that you’ve probably been living under a rock for the past two decades), he’s editor-in-chief of UNO magazine, newspaper columnist, book author, yoga instructor, host, and now actor (he’s got roles in “And I Love You So” and “Habang May Buhay”). Vanessa, 34, a legal associate, is his wife of just over a year. Their love story is a much-publicized one, having been chronicled in RJ’s weekly column in The Philippine Star, and posted all over networking sites and status messages (mostly RJ’s). Their engagement-when RJ proposed to Vanessa in front of a crowd of 50 of their closest friends-was so picture perfect that their friends uploaded it on YouTube.

In true performance-level fashion, RJ drew up the elaborate plan of popping the question by telling Vanessa they were going to a friend’s “wedding reception” in Tagaytay. It was a total surprise to his future wife. “All the characters from our love story were there,” recalls Vanessa, “people from church, a couple of friends from Davao and Bantayan Island (where she had agreed to be RJ’s girlfriend two years before). It was sunset. Sunset over Taal Volcano. Who could say no? People ask me if I would’ve wanted it to be a more private thing, but now. I liked how he did it. Marc Nelson was there. I said yes in front of Marc Nelson!” she quips.

“Now, that’s a statement,” RJ agrees.

The nipple hugging shirt didn’t work

But let’s back up a little bit. Five years before, to be exact, when the two crossed paths again in Single Young Adults, a Catholic group at the San Antonio church. RJ was then co-host of Men’s Room along with Tim Tayag, “a raunchy late night show,” according to Vanessa, who was then studying law in Davao. As you can see from these photos, Vanessa has a face (and figure) any guy would go for, RJ – particularly RJ – included.

“Well, she was pretty, and had a nice derriere,” he says. His wife blushes. “What?” he continues with a laugh. “It’s true. Lalake e!”

Vanessa initially didn’t want to accept any of his invitations to dinner because of his reputation as Men’s Room host, but changed her mind when she heard RJ lectoring during mass. “I didn’t know he was that dedicated to the church. His voice was well-modulated, he sounded very well educated, so I said, ‘hey, maybe I should get to know this guy. I finally accepted his dinner invitation.’”

Their first “date” was in Kashmir. “I wanted it to be casual; I wanted him to be more of my friend. I didn’t want the night to lead to him liking me, or me liking him. I wanted him to be the guy I could talk to about other guys,” Vanessa says.

“Yeah, I had on my nipple-hugging t-shirt on to see if it would have any effect on her,” RJ counters.

Well, it didn’t have any effect-yet. A trip to Singapore for a SYA fundraiser, and another potentially romance-busting dinner happened before Vanessa would find herself being more attracted to RJ than she planned.

It was a dinner at Sugi, which coincided with an after-dinner event at nearby Temple Bar for her racecar driver brother. “In short, whoever I was meeting had to meet my parents. They could not think of me connected to a Men’s Room geek!” Vanessa recalls. She called her friend to walk her from Sugi to Temple, just so she could have a decoy. “She didn’t have a car, so I even offered to pay 10 times her cab fare! RJ was trying to walk beside me, and we were trying to walk away. It was very mean of us. But that was the time RJ was quite different, his outlook in life was very different.”

But during the event, RJ gained a million pogi points with Vanessa’s parents-her dad, for being so knowledgeable about sponsorships and TV production; her mom, for having already attended the Landmark Forum, a breakthrough life-enhancing seminar that all of Vanessa’s family members had also attended. “He even got along with my aunt and cousins. From that night on, I started to like him very fast.”

And he even wasn’t wearing a nipple-hugging t-shirt.

‘Damn those sea urchins!’

The tables were soon turned. Vanessa, the pursued, became the one more interested in her pursuer. “In retrospect, we were playing ‘the game and the rules,’” RJ says, who reads relationship books as research for his column.

“I was playing the game on her. Because of my being nonchalant, she was the one who found (me attractive). She was playing ‘the rules.’”

It would come to a head one Easter weekend, when RJ flew out to Bantayan Island to be with Vanessa’s family and a group of mutual friends. Vanessa was still unclear about RJ’s commitment. “I was new to the whole single life concept, ‘hanging out.’ I didn’t know what ‘hanging’ meant- I was studying in Davao, absent from Manila for four, five years. I thought that since RJ and I were getting close, we were almost exclusive. Yun pala he was still watching movies with other women, taking them out for dinner. So later on, I started detaching. I gave myself an ultimatum. If this guy doesn’t commit, if I ask him and he still answers in a nonchalant answer, I’ll walk away. And I did. So that night, I entertained other suitors right then and there in Cebu. That’s when I saw a complete change in him.”

Three hours later, not even sunrise, RJ was down on his knees asking Vanessa to be his girlfriend. The negotiations would continue until much later, though, as they walked on the beach.

“It was the sunset,” Vanessa says, laughing.

“It was so nice, dammit! It was low tide.

There were sea urchins everywhere, so I had to ride on his back. We were close, it was sunset, perfect weather… he said something during that walk that made me realize how much he valued his family and parents, and that’s how he wanted us to be.”

“I said, ‘I want to do yoga with you for the rest of my life,’” RJ recalls.

And the two sealed the deal by making “smoochie-smoochie” behind a big rock.

Yeah, baby

To give RJ credit, however, once he commits to something, he does it with a tenacity more powerful than industrial-strength Velcro. He stuck it out with Vanessa even when she left to work in the U.S. for six months. Both attended another Landmark seminar on relationships, and RJ even brought up going to a pre-Cana (pre-marriage) course (but which Vanessa had to remind him about months later).

Yes, folks, as glib and as tongue-in-cheek RJ seems to be as a personality, he takes his relationships quite seriously, understanding such things as “love languages”-things that would make other men shudder.

And yes, he enjoys pulling off grand displays of love, like the aforementioned marriage proposal, and the insanely huge wedding the two had last year (over a thousand guests attended the reception).

Baby Fortune, five months, is a honeymoon baby. (And because this is a breastfeeding/health issue, I must mention that she’s also completely breastfed.) A miniature RJ (with a dose of Vanessa’s mom, Remy), she’s named after RJ’s mother, diplomat, socialite, and philanthropist Fortune Ledesma. RJ and Van may have had a bit of an adventure clinching their relationship, but one look at the families both sides were born into leaves no doubt about the future: Baby

Fortune will grow up into a solid home where God and parents are honored, and love, humor, and affection are always present.

During this shoot, Vanessa’s parents drop by on their way to a movie “just to say hi.” When Remy stalls by the door, Vanessa demands, “Mom, come here, I haven’t kissed you yet.”
I visit them twice, and both times, Mommy Fortune-even while she’s obviously rushing in between appointments-dotes over Baby Fortune and her daughter-in-law.

Many times, too, I have listened to RJ make decisions with Vanessa and his future as a husband and as a dad (Baby Fortune was yet to be born) as the first considerations. “Does it respect my wife, my family?” he asks himself now. “In interviews, my mom says that ‘the jewels in my life are my husband and my three children.’ And I can see that’s the way she lived it.

“Life is gladly re-arranged for the family. I see no merit in spending boy’s night out when I can spend time with Vanessa and my baby girl.”

“Before marrying RJ, I thought that he just likes doing a lot of things,” Vanessa says. “After marriage, I realize he really loves every single thing he does. He has seven jobs. He gives 100% to every single one of them. And he has time to do all that and play with his kid and make love to me!”

Now that’s a formula for a relationship that works.

“I do or I die, RJ Ledesma’s imaginary guide to getting married and other man made disasters as told to him by his Yaya,” (Anvil) RJ’s second book, will hit stands later this year.

(Re-posted from http://sesameseedcreatives.com/hipp/2009/07/27/the-beauty-and-the-geek/)

Thanks again Gina Abuyuan, editor-in-chief of Happy, Intelligent, Progressive Parenting (HIPP) Magazine!

UNO Magazine March Party

Hey guys,

You are all cordially invited:)

Namaste,

RJ

http://jasonmagbanua.com/blog/2008/03/09/rj-ledesma-and-vanessa-pastor/

I thought you guys might get a kick out of watching the very first Royal Tru Orange commercial that came out waaaaaaayyyyy back in 1988 (yup, twenty friggin’ years ago). This is the link to that website.  You guys might be interested to note that the first set of Royal commercials were directed by the late great Lino Brocka.

Ah, nostalgia always brings back the fizz in me.  

This commercial was posted by Jason Magbanua, an excellent wedding videographer who captured my wedding last March 7, 2008.  Incidentally, the link to Jason’s site also includes the photo montage and onsite video from our wedding day.  If you want to read more about the wedding, check out the blog entitled Heavensent.

Since we are on the subject of weddings, let me share with you pictures from our wedding by (insert your favorite superlative) Pat Dy.  Aside from wedding photography, Pat Dy is an excellent wedding photographer. He has has shot several covers for me in Manual Magazine, and he also shot the cover of my book, ‘Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me’. 

http://blog.patdyphotography.com/?p=519

By the by, my wife Vanessa also did her share of commercials in the day. She was one of the Penshoppe models back in 1994 along with then-unknowns Paolo Bediones and Ryan Agoncillo.  Her ‘love team’ in the commercial was Paolo Bediones.  Check this out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TULwbpk9f6c

Care to share your memories of the eighties, if its not too traumatic?

Dear blogging community,

The shameless self-promotion continues!  In preparation for the book signing of “Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me’, my first collection of humor articles from Anvil Publishing, on November 22 (Saturday) at Fully Booked, Bonifacio High Street, Taguig, I scoured and stalked out several blogs to see what they had to say about me and my yaya.

Apparently, bloggers have a lot of nice things to say. About my yaya.

Spread the word!

Namaste,

RJ

From XT of  http://xteaboi.multiply.com/reviews/item/21 (originally posted on Oct 13, 2008)

Witty! Funny!Despite the ambient lighting of the coffee shop, I decided to keep the aviator glasses to maintain anonymity as I was enjoying my time laughing hard through the pages of this book. I know somebody from the other table was calling someone from the Mental health institute to gun me with a tranquilizer. Bakit ba? nag order naman ako ah!

 From Jaslil of http://jaslil.wordpress.com/2008/09/16/lies-my-yaya-should-have-told-me/ (originally posted on September 16, 2008)

One of my favorite pastimes on weekends is to “tambay” in NBS. I can’t control my urges whenever I get my hands on books. Guilty pleasures, I call it.

I was actually looking for the book, “The 500 People You Meet in Hell” when an orange book from an obscure area caught my eye. Hmmm, RJ Ledesma — I have never heard of him before. Tita Jas said that he’s that little boy from the soda  commercial back in 80’s. Haha, I’m not that old to even remember!

Oh well, hearing Tessa Arriola’s critique of the man is already a guarantee of my money’s worth.

This guy is very articulate, not to mention the effortless gab he writes which makes his readers laugh out loud. I never thought that a man as smart as him could be a manservant for the one who has his heart (Arrrgghh! I’m jealous!) and would do whatever his yaya tells him to do. He exaggerates stories but I don’t find him corny in any way.

I hope he wouldn’t mind if I post this part that really really really made my tummy cramp. Boy! I thought I’d die laughing! This is by Tim Tayag.

If (the girl) emits a high-pitched, song-like laugh like “Ahihihihihi” after you crack a joke, it means, “The only chance you’ll get to sleep with me is when we have paid the national debt.”

If she emits a nasal and snort-like laugh like “Hyuck hyuck hyuck” it means, “Oh my God, I am strangely attracted to you even if you resemble a body part that is best hidden from public view, but I’m not ready to sleep with you.”

If she emits an unmelodic and grunt-like laugh that sounds like she is choking on her own saliva: “Ahug ahug ngef gaak” it means, “I am soooo going to make your eyes pop out of your head tonight… TWICE.”

Surely, RJ doesn’t need a cartoon to tell his story. And of course, what more can I say about his theories about love god-knows-where he got them! LOL

From Bendz of http://bendzg.com/2008/08/21/bibliophilic-orgy-cebu/ (originally posted on August 21, 2008)

His book, a compilation of news paper columns of some softdrink endorser in the early eighties who’s trying hard to sound like Jessica Zafra (just like someone I know…). It’s more of a trash than a book. I think I was drunk when I brought that book to the counter as i would never shell out 5 dollars for a piece of literary crap. I could have just read a Dean Koonts, who’s literary prowess is equal to that of a pothead. (Now someone would loathe RJ Ledesma with me.)

From Pols in http://pols.blog.friendster.com/2008/06/lies-my-yaya-told-me-not/ (originally posted in June 24, 2008)

Lies My Yaya Told Me – Not

For those who have been reading my blog, you may be familiar with the title of this blog artcle. I had written about wanting to read this book by RJ Ledesma but was surprised by the shipping fee that was quoted in National Bookstore. However, NP read about the story while she was vacationing in the Philippines and offered to get me the book. I am thankful for the kind offer and am now able to give a partial review of the book.

I say partial since I’m about halfway reading the book. As my title implies, the book may have been titled lies my yaya should have told me but the content and subject of the book is not about that. I’m having mixed feelings about the book since my initial belief about the subject of the book were wrong, I felt a little bit misled. Having said that, there were some statements that were tongue in cheek funny specially the irreverent use of people in the social scene as well as stuff that were familiar to my generation eg the aquanet hairspray which brings back some funny memories. Some of the subject matter are borderline bastos – if I were unmarried, I would suspect that these are the stuff young men would talk about amongst themselves when womenfolk are not around. Eg, he calls PMS – Permissible Manslaughter and the talks about the subject of Victoria’s Secret.

The way he writes stuff is akin to reading a blog but he writes the comedy directed mostly to himself and his girlfriend as well as some portions directed at the yaya.

From Nikko of http://maallen.multiply.com/reviews/item/2 (originally posted on June 3, 2008)

okay.i think the book’s quite good. every pages will make you smile though not all of them will make you laugh out loud.:p hnn..but yes, it will definitely make you understand the opposite sex more.this book’s got some green content and i suggest that only the open-minded people read it..or those who are trying to open their mind.:))

btw, RJ ledesma, the author, is a host from the show The Men’s Room.:) what a very self-centered guy..sya lang nakita kong sinama ang kanyang picture sa cover ng libro nya.iba to.iba.

so there.over all, this book is good, i should say, even if it doesn’t make you laugh out loud since you’ll still learn something from it.:)

 From blue of http://chinablue16.multiply.com/reviews/item/17 (originally posted on April 20, 2008)

Entertaining. Hilarious … as in.

 From Madonnarrific of http://madonnarrific.multiply.com/reviews/item/49 (originally posted on April 13, 2008)

After reading this book, I am convinced that RJ Ledesma is the voice of straight men everywhere. He writes what most Filipino men fear to even think, with a witty sense of humor that rivals that of Jessica Zafra. In fact, RJ Ledesma could possibly be the Filipino’s answer to the fictional Carrie Bradshaw.A known funnyman, RJ Ledesma proves he is all that in this book. He has the wit and charm of a horny teenage Catholic school boy [which I highly believe], but an intelligent horny teenage Catholic school boy at that. His essays are not only funny [it's one punchline after another], but it is cleverly written as well.

Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me is a godsend to boyfriends. It is an anthology of his essays that were published in the Manila Times, but more importantly, a comedic manual that deals with the most mysterious creature in the universe – girls.

From JC of http://jcbpbayan.multiply.com/reviews/item/11 (originally posted on April 1, 2008)

If you’re looking for tips on dating in the 21st century, or just about anything about the opposite sex, this small book is perfect for you.Basically a compilation of his articles in the Manila Times and The Philippine Star, RJ Ledesma dishes out a definitive (and at the same time drop-dead hilarious) masterpiece, lavishly sprinkled with his unique style of humor writing. Also, it’s primarily dedicated to one of the most influential persons in his life (up to now!), his yaya. To get a first taste of how he writes (and how he just adores and loves his yaya) you’d want to read his column at The Star on Wednesdays (where I first discovered his prose).

Funny, witty, and informative, his style of intelligent humor, rare as it is nowadays, will definitely sneak up on you and tickle even your deadest brain cells. Even if you don’t have a yaya anymore.

 From http://deeya-07.blog.friendster.com/2008/03/lies-my-yaya-should-have-told-me/ (originally posted on March 20, 2008)

No, I didn’t have a yaya growing up. It’s a book by RJ Ledesma. We first heard about it on TFC in an interview by Ricky Carandang. I promised my sister I’d send a copy as soon as I get back to Manila and I did. I’ve only procured a copy for myself a week later upon my sister’s prodding and now I know why.

Been reading RJ Ledesma’s (Yes, the Royal Tru-Orange guy from the commercial in the 80’s) book which claims to be an “Imaginary Guide to Whine and Women” and I am totally laughing my head off.

He writes so vivid and hits me very close to the heart. Personally, I feel very enlightened. Enlightened in the sense that I have an idea what my boyfriend/fiance could be feeling/thinking during my “crazy” periods, confirming that what RJ’s plight as a man is shared.

Permissible Manslaughter and Anger Mismanagement are two of my favorite entries. I don’t want to spoil it for you so buy a copy and laugh your heart out.

Now books classified under humor (that’s where I found it in National Bookstore) are not always informative but you’d be fascinated with the facts he inserts here and there in his article. I found myself saying “ohhh” and “ahhhh” while reading and I’ve never heard myself say that with medical books.

It’s a good read. A little steep for a newsprint copy but I do feel it’s worth the entertainment you’ll get from it.

From Jessica of http://badgefenol.multiply.com/reviews/item/6 (originally posted on February 13, 2008)

I had the opportunity to meet the writer (and have my copy signed), thanks to my job! haha. Anyway, its a fun read, quite scientific (yes, mind you with scientific basis). A collection of thw writer’s broadsheet articles on modern dating, and of course women.

I suggest ladies should read it, you’ll get a lot of (helpful) information on this one. Aside from the most memorable line “Men are imbeciles”, there are a few which seems inculcated in my mind. There’s a meaning to the way a woman laughs, the high-heeled reality about being sexy and a lot more fun stuff that’ll give you a good laugh. I’ve personally learned a lot from this book (honest!).

This might sound like a promo rather than a review, but i’ll say it anyway, quoting the author “If you wanted to forget about the problems and the government for a while, you should read LIES MY YAYA SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME by Rj Ledesma”.

 From Christma Anne of http://prettyxma.multiply.com/reviews/item/25 (originally posted on February 13, 2008)

It is intelligent humor at its best. A guide to men dating in the 21st century.

From http://iamnotfrodo.wordpress.com/2008/02/04/pseudo-bookworm-on-overdrive/ (originally posted on February 4, 2008)

The word “yaya” is Filipino for “nanny”.

I believe this is RJ Ledesma’s first book. This is apparently a compilation of his newspaper column articles and a few essays.

I actually had a lot of high expectations for this book. First, because the author is a co-star of the now defunct “The Men’s Room” on Studio 23, which was an uber-funny show in its prime. Second, the cover, which showcases Ledesma and his goofy smirk, makes for the impression that it’s a funny, funny read. And third, it was a really thin book and yet it cost more than my Zafra books.

So anyway, after reading the whole thing, I thought it drastically fell short of being hilarious. I’ve read better stuff here! It would’ve been so much funnier, should it have been written by one of the editors of The Man-Blog. Sadly, it seemed that the Ledesma I knew from The Men’s Room days are gone. Either that, or he can’t fully translate that perverted sense of humor of his on paper.

Also, the articles didn’t really have much lies and “yaya” stuff on them as I thought, which could’ve been funny. Which is kind of stupid, I know, but hey, I’m a simple-minded guy. What can I do?

Because I am a shameless self promoter, I would like to repost in my blog several of the full book reviews I came across of ‘Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me’ that came out both in print and online.

And hopefully, this gets you excited enough to show up to my book signing at Fully Booked, Bonifacio Hi Street, Taguig on November 22 (Saturday).

Thanks again for the support! Namaste.

From Carlomar Arcangel Daoana of The Daily Tribune (originally published on February 14, 2008) 

RJ Ledesma’s take on love and all things similar

Since the publication of Kitty Go’s two delightful volumes on the foibles of high society, there has been no “funny” read to emerge that can actually balance the tightrope between acute observation and simply rollicking humor, that is until RJ Ledesma’s Lies my Yaya should have told Me was launched last Thursday in Archeology in Rockwell.

The book, published by Anvil, is something we have been expecting from RJ all along, if I may hazard a guess. His must-read ruminations on love, dating and things similar in the 21^st century, as chronicled by two dailies, plus his energizing touch that  transformed Manual into the only irreverently smart men’s magazine in the country, had left us guessing what RJ can do with the format of a book.

Lies my Yaya should have told Me is, simply put, a suave masterwork to this juggler of many careers. The first chapter “Love is a Four-Letter Word” blurts out what may be a fundamental truth about men: “They confuse sex for love.” From here, the author darts toward assembling objects that curiously set the mood for sex, which men believe they have wrapped in smokescreen. The author, as a fact-seeking journalist, takes a quick jaunt to Victoria Court and cyber-cruises in dating sites to report first-hand the nitty-gritty of love’s nether regions.

 His vivisection of Christian Bautista’s “Hands to Heaven” is, however, the crux of this chapter, as it betrays the underlying message in the song’s refrain repeated five times: “Tonight I need your sweet caress,/Hold me in the darkness/Tonight you calm my restlessness/You relieve my sadness.” What looks like an innocuous string of words is actually deceptive. Warning the “three female readers of my column,” RJ decodes the lyrics as: “I want to go at it with you five times but I hope you don’t make me feel guilty in the morning when I give you a call.”

The second chapter, “The thin line between love and insanity,” ventures into terra incognita: the wrath of a woman.  The “rusty pliers,” a character that will evolve to Darth Vader proportions as one reads along, makes its initial appearance here. Essentially, the stories in the chapter are meant to make sense of woman’s a senselessness when she is fuming mad. RJ, in a stroke of genius, realizes that “she has the divine right to get angry at you about anything because it is entire your fault.”  He spirals into another Dante Alighieri hell by knowing the fury connected with PMS and ovulation. I have never read anything as reverential when it comes to woman’s body rhythms.

Dating, as seen through the eyes of RJ, gets demystified in the third chapter, “Mating Games.” His almost anthropological approach to the anatomy of flirting (ditto the svelte seduction of stilettos), which RJ concludes as a failure of interpretations, is juxtaposed with a she says/he says repartee on the nature of woman’s weight, all meant to save a man’s precious extremities once the conversation actually creeps up. Describing blind dates as “the Russian roulettes of the courtship world,” RJ reasons that “men shouldn’t be allowed to go on speed dating without a license” and “women shouldn’t go on speed dating without alcohol.”

The raison d’etre isn’t served until the last chapter, “The Parent Trap,” which reads like a somnambulist’s recollection of a guy meeting his girlfriend’s parents for the first time while simultaneously glimpsing a vision of his death. It’s incisive, not to mention hilarious, in a way that it exposes the nuances of the uniquely Pinoy phenomenon called dalaw, the prelude to the actual pamamanhikan.

“According to the book The Filipino Family,” the author writes, “tradition dictates that parents command their daughters to stay in their rooms and plug their ears full of cotton so that they can face the young man and pulverize him without restraint.  And, even if your dangle has yet to cause collateral damage, the Q&A serves as a preemptive strike to ensure the preservation of virgin territory.”

 In Lies my Yaya should have told Me, RJ’s strength lies more on hyperbole than irony. There’s nothing to read between the lines and all the scenes are meant to be imaginatively relished (yes, even the dog fornicating with the author’s leg in a beach) and in some instances, cringed upon, especially when rusty tools creep up as a warning against men’s nonsense and such. It’s evident that the author dips his foot into the territory of fiction, but not only for effect: he finagles truths about the human condition—chiefly, the eternal interplay between a man and a woman—by enlarging and sculpting situations to suit his end.

 As the book engages with Philippine contemporary life, the reader will not miss the deft tirades of the author on politics. RJ describes GMA’s approval ratings as “scant as the outfits” which “nubile starlets” wore in his TV show.  It’s commentary that doesn’t leave a bad taste in the mouth, but interests just the same because it is so left-field, so dripping with humor.

For some, the author may even be considered as a feminist—a self-deprecating figure prostate on the altar of Venus. But he is, deep down, just an ordinary bloke who is man enough to admit, recognize, even celebrate the importance of women—not merely for pro-creation purposes, mind you. Because of this, RJ may come across as merely earnest. But if earnestness is his vice, so be it.

From Paolo Lorenzana of Philippine Star’s Supreme (originally published on March 1, 2008)

Randomonium

Welcome to the 21st century, where the sexual revolution has revolved off into absurdity—and where a Pinoy guy in his 30s can unflinchingly write about his inadequacies and pay homage to the woman who constantly provides him wisdom, mis-education, and towels to wipe his pawis: his yaya.

Sure, any guy would have reaped emotional scars from hawking Royal Tru Orange in an ‘80s commercial that takes totoy to an unprecedented level, but that colorful blip in a man’s life only proves to add to the wisecracking, utterly self-deprecating persona of Rene “RJ” Ledesma, which is what prodded me to purchase Lies my Yaya Should have Told Me: RJ Ledesma’s Imaginary Guide to Whine and Women over Pulutan from the Soldier’s Kitchen, a bar chow cookbook compiled by two Oakwood mutineers-turned-gourmands who’ve whipped-up productivity from incarceration—the former, way tastier than a serving of adobong hito sa gata.

A collection of his columns from the Manila Times (“Playing With My Tools”) and The Philippine Star (“Pogi from a Parallel Universe”), Lies my Yaya Should have told Me chronicles its author’s testicle tickling—and kicking—travails in the savage lands of the female species; one presided over by a girlfriend who’s privy to the law (she’s a barrister) and won’t think twice about pummeling his man-parts with a gavel, a mother who’s amusingly overbearing, and, of course, a yaya who acts as the cackling entity looming over his manhood and the bastion of his subservience to the fairer sex.

No, the holy trinity of girlfriend-mother-yaya doesn’t really stand behind RJ holding cold gun barrels against his head as in Iraqi captive execution, but all the campy imagination makes for a riotous read, anyway; RJ writing of the 21st century Pinoy man’s concerns (Victoria Court motels and chloroform, boys’ nights out and KTVs, and all the blood-pumping dilemmas of having a d*ck) from the hazards of dating and the task of appeasing girlfriends we don’t seem to deserve, no matter how smart, funny, and rightfully geeky a man is. Whether it’s weathering women through “permissible manslaughter” (PMS) and irrationale (“She has the divine right to get angry at you about anything because it is your entire fault”) or having to learn the secret art of listening, RJ channels Steve Martin, Dolphy, and pre-Duplex Ben Stiller—especially when he meets his girlfriend’s parents in an essay entitled “Let Sleeping Pickles Lie”, an allusion to slipping some discretion to a mate’s parents to avoid the pickling of one’s testicles.

We’re all pretty much on the same train to men-only Auschwitz when we deal with the women in our lives, but with RJ as our crash test dummy fumbling for propriety and his girlfriend’s graces, we can stand at the sidelines rubbing our bellies and laughing nervously at how much of an absolutely clueless and lesser sex we are. Ledesma’s Lies makes for great pulutan for the imbecile’s soul (that means all hetero wielders of the schlong) and it’s good to see one guy, as they say, taking it like a man.

From Rome Jorge of Manila Times (originally published on April 3, 2008)

RJ Ledesma tells all about his Yaya, The Tru-Orange kid and his expose about his nanny

He started his literary career here at The Manila Times. His column, “Playing with My Tools,” reintroduced Filipinos readers to RJ Ledesma, then better known for being that kid, Joey, in the Royal Tru Orange commercial (if you’re old enough to remember, you’re old—like RJ and I are) who was sent by his mommy to buy some suka [vinegar, not puke].

He also co-hosted for that FHM-like TV show Men’s Room. In his column entries, he intimated: his fixation with supermodel Phoemela Barranda; his dependence on his yaya [nanny/wet nurse], belying any similarity of television commercial persona with his true self—that of a scion of real estate development empire, Ledesco; and his supposedly henpecked and Catholic-guilt-stricken relationship with Vanessa, now his wife. Read it and weep:

The Comet that Killed the Dinosaurs [RJ Ledesma’s pet name for his girlfriend, specifically when she’s pissed at him]: Why do you keep writing about Phoemela Barranda!? You think I find that funny!? Every week it’s Phoem this and Phoem that! It’s enough already that I have to compete with your yaya sleeping beside you at night, then Phoem pa!

RJ the dead idiot: What does this have to do with what we’re talking about? Love, you know I’m just writing about Phoem for humorous exaggeration, and you didn’t have to let the readers know about my yaya . . .

- Playing With My Tools, The Manila Times, May 29, 2005

Later, Ledesma became Editor in Chief of Manual Magazine. And then he left to us to write for that other newspaper filled with star columnists. Arrgh. The turncoat! But we know the dirt on Ledesma. And so does everyone, thanks to his new book, Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me: RJ Ledesma’s Imaginary Guide to Whine and Women.

They say it’s a bestseller, most especially after it was allegedly mandated as required reading for the rank and file of Ledesco. Friends of Ledesma (as well as complete and utter strangers) can expect to receive copies of his book for Christmas, Valentine’s, Halloween, and on their wedding, baptism, confirmation and circumcision. Sources allege that this is but the first in Ledesma’s quest for ultimate power.

Rumor has it that a movie musicale based on the book (starring Barranda no less and the dashing Andrew E as Ledesma) is set to be released shortly before the campaign season of the next elections, where Ledesma is said to run for President under a platform of free government-subsidized soft drinks, a ban on all meat products and calls for an orange revolution.

Oh, about the book. It’s kind’a funny.

Be on the lookout for special copies with centerfold spread photos of Ledesma and nanny. Do not open—not unless you value the meal you ate beforehand.

In it as well are insights into the Pinoy psyche—at least the psyche of Pinoy who’s a vegan yoga instructor, real estate magnate, Couples for Christ member and men’s magazine editor. Definitely, the author is your typical guy.

Already, literary critics have lavished praise on the book:

“It made me cry.” -RJ Ledesma

Kidding aside, the book delivers oodles on the science behind romance such as the biochemistry of pheromones and oxytocins. It also delivers realistic situationers about romance and relationship for 21st century Pinoys—like Catholic guilt about premarital sex and skulking about drive-in motels just the same.

It’s a must read, especially for employees of Ledesco.

From Gmeleen Faye B. Tomboc of Clickthecity.com (originally posted on February 11, 2008)

Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me

If you walk into a book launch graced by Mayor Binay and members of the diplomatic corps, you could have mistaken it for the launching of a coffee table book. However, once I spotted Gary Lising and DJ Mo Twister milling around, I knew there was something else to it.

On a Thursday night, RJ Ledesma (aka that guy in the Royal Tru Orange commercial) unveiled his first compilation “Lies My Yaya Should Have Told Me: RJ Ledesma’s Imaginary Guide to Whine and Women.” Gary Lising, DJ Mo Twister, Nancy Castiglione, Sam Oh, and Jojo “All the Way” Alajar were on hand to read out excerpts. Those familiar with his late-night show with stand-up comedian Tim Tayag (“The Men’s Room”) would definitely know what to expect from this paperback – tongue-in-cheek humor.

The book is a compilation of his essays from his previous column in the Manila Times called “Playing With My Tools,” and his current column for the Philippine Star called “Pogi from a Parallel Universe.” The observations on pick-up lines, dating, courtship, and certain life-changing events, such as dealing with the parents of your girlfriend, are razor-sharp, laugh-out-loud (not just chuckle) funny, and most of the time, embarrassingly true. How else can you explain this passage: “In their more complex minds, women mistakenly ‘boys’ night out’ with cheap beer, voluptuous women, and really lousy singing. They’re wrong you know- the beer isn’t cheap.”

Surprisingly, there’s a fair amount of research that went into each column- RJ cites sources running the gamut of the president of the American Board of Sexology to books such as “Shoes: A Celebration of Pumps, Sandals and Slippers.” There are also sprinklings of political innuendo thrown in: “(My) girlfriend informed me that I had first to ask her parents’ permission to accompany her to the United States. If there’s anything that scares me more than GMA’s mole, it is her parents.”

Of course, the evening could not have been complete without RJ’s yaya, who gamely hammed it up for the camera with her ward. There are more observations on everything else than on what RJ’s yaya actually told (or did not tell) him. But after going through all 107 pages, you wouldn’t mind.

This paperback is a fun read because RJ isn’t afraid to poke fun at himself; in one essay, he describes himself this way: “I was already a thirty something who had suffered his first bald spot (oh, the indignity!) and finally gained the privilege to watch porn movies guilt-free (but I still lock my door).” RJ shares, “The nice thing about humor is that you’re able to tell the truth in a way that you can accept it. Luckily I’m someone who has a very low threshold of embarrassment.”