She has been demonized worse than how the United States did it to North Korea in the recent Will Ferrel flick Blades of Glory.

Please, people, give Malu Fernandez a break and stop calling her names. She's rich and she has the right not to like stinky overseas Filipino workers who have been touted as the coutry's modern heroes for sustaining its economy, keeping its survival.

Don't you have hearts? Don't you realize how bad you have been treating her just because she is rich and most of the Filipinos are poor? That's really, really mean and uncivilized. Where did you get your education, hello, because Malu, my new friend, is a graduate of the Moore College of Arts and Design. See, Malu is soshal...you know.

Poor girl but everyone's talking about how bloated she is--a fat truth, they say, that has gone up to her tongue and blocked all her senses, including the one that keeps her modesty.

Stop talking about how her fat-and-muscle expansion also densed her chutzpah that's so all over her, feeding her already inflated ego all the more that the millions of Pinoys working abroad would be very, very happy to see explode.

Boy, Malu Fernandez maintains a fat connection and Malu bashers should be very afraid of this. Her nephew is the good looking senator, whose ticket to the senate was the untainted and unquestionable votes from Mindanao, Miguel Zubiri. Well, Miguel Zubiri is supposed to be her favorite nephew. As in, favorite. Miguel Zubiri is my favorite too.

You people should be very afraid because she might call the Justice Department and demand justice for all the meanness that she's getting for you. She might even call Malacañang, and you will be crying for your mothers. Hey, I can only imagine how you would grasp for survival should the girl snaps-out and decides to throw her weight on you. Watch out, you! Poor!

Really, my heart goes to her and this she owes to me. For crying our loud, send me a bottle of the rare perfumes that you reviewed at the expense of the stinky overseas Filipino workers whose smell suffocated you. Let me try the ones you sprayed on your underarms to prevent the glands from sweating too much or the ones you put on your groin to avoid rashes.

And please, Malu, tell me...you can trust me kumare because we are close friends now. Like, real, real friends. You know, bossom buddies. Tell me...what do you eat? Because you know, you are really lovable. I love your lovableness and I just can't accept and will never forgive those who hate you and call you fat-ass.

Look at you: your cheeks, your lips, your eyes, your chin, your nose...your boobs and folds...everything! Malu, my closest friend now, you are indeed fierce and fabulous!!!








Now, time for the long-held diarrhea. You might want to force your own diarrhea after you read this.