Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Let's Do A Story!


Title: everythingsfineeverythingsfineeverhtusjbfkdjfsfkhj

Characters: Lava, The World, Things, Sadness

Story: Lava came from the outskirts of the Bennysukks universe and has been considered as a failure by his fellow aliens in all the things he does. One light year, he decided to run away from the shits that have been flung to him since his rude awakening, and start life anew.

While traveling the galaxy with his vessel, he came across the World, a place filled with imaginations and possibilities that have yet to be unlocked. Amidst his observation of the World from a distance, Lava thinks of the place as suitable to start his life anew, while developing an intense fascination with blow-torched genitals, long-winded roads, and the concept of being a loser. Lava then transformed into a 20-something male to hide his heinous appearance (by human standards)and to appear normal.

Throughout the years as an inhabitant of the World, Lava begins to live life under his terms. He has had encounters with Things, those that make the World more meaningful, and has enjoyed their company from the very start. All this time, he thought that he had been free from the ghost that was holding him back in the Bennysukks universe. At least, that was he thought during that time.

It was the first time that fateful day when Lava met Sadness, a beautiful being who encompasses the physical realm. Sadness was a mere concept but exploded with feelings that the alien Lava has never felt before from Things, that of sweet and glorious pain. Lava then developed a morbid affinity with Sadness, that he ravaged and raped Sadness to everything that it stood.

Days after, Lava found out all of a sudden how Things no longer acknowledged his presence. When he was with Things, he felt dead and apathetic, feelings that he experience while in the Bennysukks universe. At the same time, his appearance as an alien was slowly showing in front of the Things -- his shriveled nipples, upside-down nose, bushy ass-hairs, and eyes attached to his balls. Realizing this, he immediately ran away as fast and far as he could on long-winded roads to hide his deficiencies, while left feeling like a loser. Although everything he saw was putrid and rotten as a blow-torched genital, he lost the luster he once held for it. Immediately, everything became Sadness.

In the end, Lava ate tuna sandwich and drank pineapple juice in the smallest corner of the world.

Moral: No matter how disgusting and gross they are, blow-torched genitals are oogy.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Problems And Bottles Of Beer

Last night, I invited my friend to join me in a pity session of the ages. Rarely do I have somebody by my side to share my personal issues matters because I usually deal it by myself. I don't want other people to be burgeoned with my life inadequacies and insecurities, since I assume that they have their problems of their own. I could have dwelled with it alone like I used to, but I told to myself, "Fuck that shit."

In my valiant attempt to masquerade as a normal person, my friend and I ended up in this familiar joint we usually spend with our other friends during happier days. The benevolent '80s music blaring from the speakers of the dim-lighted bar proves to be a perfect setting for a personable conversation, happy or sad. What I was about to begin, however, is far from happy.

Of all people, he is the perfect guy to talk to regarding my situation for he has experienced the same thing a couple of years ago. He also asked to accompany him and his misery the afternoon he found out about his problem. We ended up spending that sunless afternoon repeatedly listening to Steve Vai's "Whispering A Prayer" instead.

However, last night turned out differently than expected. Instead of the usual gloom n' doom associated with manly heart-to-heart conversations, I was actually giddy and talkative -- two words that don't usually get associated with my name -- while relating my problem to him. Maybe I was concealing the fact that I have failed again and again as a human being, hence making me a miserable chap. Looking back, I concealed pretty well.

In return, he did supplant me with advice on how he dealt with his situation before. He mentioned how I never really shared much about myself before, about my past failures, and so I did. In the end, our conversation turned out to be more than just bitching about how lame we are, but also how beautifully distorted, and at the same time meaningful, our lives have become, all while gobbling on oily pork tips and chugging bottles of beer. Suffice to say, t'was a fruitful endeavor, minus the fruits.

After the emotional, albeit fun, outpour, we headed back to his car and played tunes from the late '90s, the time in our lives we will cherish the most, with the car windows down, driving on our way home. I never realized how I love Pearl Jam and Cranberries until that evening, or maybe because I was tipsy.

As we arrived in front of my house, he told me to listen to a particular song that speaks about my situation. I immediately went in front of the computer and downloaded it off Limewire, and search for its lyrics. And it goes:

So let me in
All that I wanted from you
Was something you'd never do
So let me in
Oh please tonight
Don't let this end
I'll Fall


  • It's nice to eat more than you can handle.

  • I suck as a human being.

  • I'm getting better at pretending everything is dandy

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Year-End Status Report

2007 has come and gone, I don't really know where to begin. To be honest, it's not a roller-coaster ride, as everybody would say about their own. Although my year is filled with ups and downs, and the mandatory deep-down-under-that-I-don't-wanna-live-anymore feeling during July and August, I would say the year majority of the year went pretty well, minus the thrills and loops.

Things were unfolding in their boring way (a way which I thoroughly like) outside from the occasional slip-ups that I commit once in a while. However, my year took a tremendous fall from grace just this past week, for reasons that will never be disclosed. Imagine yourself jumping off the top of Mount Canyon, but in this case, the pull of gravity seems to last forever, deceiving me to hold a sense of false hope that I would fly and soar back to the top, until reality smashes my body down the ground. Stupid. The law of gravity states that what comes up MUST DEFINITELY come down, and yet I hoped otherwise.

Which is actually one of the worst feelings in the world -- an undetermined, yet inevitable fall.

People unlike me would probably take my situation with a grain of salt and move on with their lives. However, let me tell you a little secret that most of you unconsciously know about me:

I'm fucking abnormal.

Hence, I don't think I can truly recover from this debacle soon.

But I refuse to show signs of distress. I will not render my feelings to a limp, pathetic state because that's very high school. Thank God I'm old.

I have a saying that I try to follow once in a blue moon, and it goes, "The trick is to not care." However, I do care.

Merry Christmas Everybody!

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Very Thoughtful

As I was going through the notions of cubicle life here at my current job, i.e. seesawing between watching Heroes and doing part-time work, my fellow officemate The Blind Rage (writer of award-winning blog The Mundane Side of the Road, recipient of ZeXXXy Beast Award, and co-writer of How To Make Your Kuyukot Throb) hands me one of these ditties:

Now, I thought to myself, "What the hell? Somebody actually reads my blog???" Let's face it, I don't update my blog as frequently as before when I was unemployed (ah, those were the days), and then I get this.

Maybe it's because of me not sharing my thoughts anymore, which makes me...thoughtful? Yes, that's probably it. You're welcome too, by the way.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Summer Ist Krieg

Pardon me for this long overdue entry. I don't really like talking about the events that its putrid form in my life, but since I have a lot of time to kill, might as well write something substantial.

This past summer has been one of the best experiences in my life so far.

It all started when I was moved to the night shift, from 9 P.M. to 6 A.M., because my work schedule entailed me to do so. Not that I hated that fact, but, thinking about the gigs that our band could have performed on during the weekdays, it was disheartening to say the least. Plus, I was the only one moved from our original team at work (I'll refer to them as the Webdate team), so I didn't have anybody to talk to during that time.

However, as nights had come and gone, I just realized that the night shift is loads better than the regular shift! Imagine this scenario: no traffic going to office AND back home, peaceful environment, pacified (or lullabied) co-workers, and best of all, exclusive only to my line of work, only three (3) hours worth of labor time! The remaining six hours I do part-time work, watch a couple of videos, and you have a happy man who slaves his weekend in front of the computer looking for people to talk to in the wee hours of the morning!

It only gets better from here, folks.

This past summer also heralded my passion for the beach, and it curiously began with listening to "Cayman Island" by Kings of Convenience. Nothing that overtly suggests images of sand and salt water, but the song's wistful melodies and sweet lyrics are reminiscent of basking under the hot sun and having yourself carried by the sea. Not drift far away and get marooned in a lonesome island with a coconut tree - that ain't lovely at all- but drift near enough that I could get back to the shore with ease. Of course, I am taking everything too seriously and should stop right

Anyway, the first stop was to take my sojourn this past April with the Webdate team to Puerto Galera - a poor man's Boracay, I must admit, but it did get the job done. Nothing really spectacular about the place, just lots of people, like gremlins crammed in a jar. Although this would normally put me off my gaiety, it didn't really bother me at all since I tremendously enjoyed the company of the guys from Webdate. I got hammered, did stuff, shouted stuff in public, ran like my ass was on fire in public, and just...stuff - the good kind, of course. I'm omitting the things that occurred without my full knowledge or consciousness of it, so don't bother.

However, the best thing that happened to me in Galera was when we crawled under a hill to reach the lagoon on the other side the next morning, and by golly, time stopped and my heart raced as I lay witness to one of the best sights I've seen to date. Actually, it was nothing special, a small body of clear water separated from the beach. I'm sure people have seen feces with shapes and sizesmore awe-inspiring than the one that I have displayed here, but the timing and the mood did it for me. I had "Cayman Island" playing in my mind while swimming from end to end, touching the stones and having our pictures taken while still hung over from last night's drinking binge. It's awesome, to say the least, that a piece of land or a plain body of water, in its simplicity, can evoke the profoundest of emotions, the highest of highs. Up to this day, it is my Cayman Island. And for the record, except from alcohol, no recreational drug/s or medication/s was/were taken during the whole Galera shebang.

Of course, how could I praise this past summer without mentioning my Bohol experience. I wrote an entry about it, so read it if you must. To add, I hope Bohol doesn't get raped and pillaged by foreigners horny for white sands and exotic destinations. Let it become the country's best kept secret since Joey Ayala and Cynthia Alexander started making music.

This past summer taught me to keep my feet grounded on the important things, namely: the country's natural resources, simplicity of life in rural areas, and spankin' ass tunes by Kings of Convenience. That's how we roll in the P.I., muthafukkers!

Monday, September 24, 2007


Unfortunately, someone (Tina) "tagged" me into one of these you-better-not-break-the-"tag"-chain-or-else-I'm-gonna-scrap-your-balls-with-a-barber's-razor schlock. I thought these "tag" blog entries have run out its course late last year, but for the 13420489th time, I have been proven wrong. So, without further ado, let's get on with this shit.

The rule

"Each player of this game starts with 6 weird things about you. People who get tagged need to write a list of their own 6 weird things as well as state the rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says you are tagged in their comments and tell them to read your blog."

*Sigh* Here it goes:

  • I have a pattern when I walk on tiled floors. I step inside the floor tiles, and I don't step on the lines that separate each tile from another (forgot what that shit is called). I also step only on the tiles with the same color. Furthermore, if the tiles are regular (1x1), I walk with my one foot cross a tile, while the other foot crosses two tiles. Of course, I won't tell you how I came up with this, or where I actually do this weirdness, simply because I don't want you to make fun of me while I do it. It's not like I don't have feelings, you know.
  • Here's another shitty weird fact: I eat with a coordinated number of servings for the rice and toppings (unless I don't get to put the food on the plate). I usually take two (2) spoonfuls of rice, followed by (3) spoonful of toppings. It's actually a complicated ratio of food-to-rice servings, and it would probably take me a long time to explain it, so I'll stop here. I accidentally came up with during high school when I wanted to trim down, which seemed to work.

  • I get depressed during the months of July to August. Must be the rain, although I do love the rain. Reminds me of listening to Elliott Smith or Agalloch at home while drinking a warm cup of Swiss Miss. Still, I have yet to understand why my mood fluctuates into a downtrodden and pathetic state during the given months.

    Although the word happens to be thrown a lot by people who think they are suffering from such a condition, being depressed is more than just losing a purpose to live or feeling the emotions robbed away from you like your virginity; it's simply taking a sort of exam from the guidance office that determines whether or not you are depressed. Apparently, I took that test and scored so low that she didn't even bother to show me the results.

  • I equip myself with an extremely low and depraving self humor. I call myself stupid and shitass (add that one to the dictornary, folks!) most of the time because I made a minor mistake. I have some people call me gay just for kicks, even though I'm really not (I'm not), but if my friends heard of this, well, let's just say they won't like it one bit.

  • I obsess over failure. I don't like failure, but when I do fail, I won't be able to sleep. I'll look back at where and how I made a mistake, and I'll muse over the things that I could have done differently. I'll turn on my self-hibernating mode (more on that later), play a depressing song on the radio, and just THINK about what would have been if I did it right.

  • I'd rather be alone most of the time. Not that I don't like the company of people, but I find it therapeutic when I walk alone inside malls or watch movies by myself. I'd rather lock myself up inside the house than going out with friends and doing normal shit. Loser noh?

So there. Although I ended the blog on a sour note, it's still good, dude tsong pare. Whatever.

I tag: Doy (haha), Yumi, Cams, the Amazing Fred, Sir Jomi, and Florangela. Hopefully, they're gonna find out that I still have my crap-ass blog here at Blogger. Happy huntings to them!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Dugyot Sa Cebu

Friday, August 31, 2007

Video Game Memory Lane

Final Fantasy VII...The Holy GrailA few hours ago, I have been updating myself with the video game world. Yes, I am a product of the video game console generation, starting from Atari 2600, to the Sony Playstation. I consider Super Mario World from the Super Nintendo and SaGa Frontier from the Playstation as two of the best games I have ever played and beaten. However, after graduating from high school, I severed ties with my fascination towards the gaming world after realizing how Tekken Tag Tournament alone took about a thousand pesos off my allowance money, while toiling hours on role playing games such as the Final Fantasy series nearly killed the development of my social life.

However, out of curiosity and watching too many Angry Video Game Nerd videos from Screw Attack, I was compelled to check out the featured videos of Final Fantasy and Metroid from My curiosity turned out to be a look back in the good ‘ole days.

Watching the Final Fantasy Retrospective was awe-inspiring. The orchestral theme from Final Fantasy VII still gives me goose bumps up even after a decade, while my ass hairs grow a centimeter longer. Ah, the sensation. Anyway, Final Fantasy VII deserves the high praises and recognition from gamers and is known as the game that broke Squaresoft into gaming mainstream consciousness. Despite the release of countless RPG titles that led to the eventual saturation of the genre, FFVII will always stand out as the game that started it all.

But I would like to remember FFVII as the game I played late every night with my friends during the summer of 1998, just after playing in our annual village basketball league. Next thing you know, I was transported back to my childhood, when all that mattered were playing video games, eating baked ziti from Sbarro, and listening to “Save Yourself” by Stabbing Westward and “Dropping Anchor” by Jimmy's Chicken Shack ad nauseam. The Retrospective featured on reinforced the notion that video games do indeed make for good memories.

On the other hand, watching the Metroid Retrospective, an awesome 2-D side-scroller turned first person adventure, had me thinking of buying either the DS or the PSP. Maybe I’m still not yet through with gaming after all.

Saturday, August 4, 2007


The last day of July has finally come and passed, and yet I still feel apathetic in writing something to commemorate my 12-month employment with my current job, the purchase of an Ibanez guitar (JEM-JR) that was long overdue, and my 23rd birthday. In fact I’m actually forcing myself to write something, anything, to add something in my personal ingenuity. Well, as of late, I've been running low with it.

However, after listening to Slowdive with a couple of friends while drinking brandy during my mother’s birthday a while ago, it reminded me how I was once looking for a full-time job after an unsuccessful stint as a contributor for the Manila Times while drifting with that particular band's music. I remembered how I was handing my resumes to different companies, some of which were not even looking for applicants at that time, while expressing success through long sleeves and well-trimmed slacks.

In fact, I miss the feeling of applying to different companies and enjoying the luxury of their seats inside their cool and comfortable offices after taking a long walk looking for its address under the rain. It was fun because everything will have to change from hereon. This means no more academics for me, at least, not for the meantime.

Aside from this, I remembered how lowly I thought of myself. After graduation, I felt having squandered my college life mulling over which career path to take. As much as Philosophy has been of great help in my growth as a person, the course left me feeling, as the previous title of my blog suggests, inadequate.

This particular feeling subsided after the couple of weeks going in my first full-time gig. After developing rapport with my co-workers and getting acquainted with leading a professional career, I have not looked back ever. This was all before July of this year.

Despite the great things that happened this past year, July ultimately reminded me of the things I didn’t like in life just by being with people. I’m not a misanthrope, at least not anymore, but I can’t add anything regarding this matter that would make it less complicating. I may be experiencing one of those months in which I am ultimately bound to feel like shit in everythingI do, and has Sartre’s immortal line “Hell is other people” as my motto for the time being. “Lagi na lang walang gana,” as my co-workers would aptly put it.

I assume that this feeling isn’t going to last forever, as with my previous encounters with downer months, but still, a stable job, a spankin’ new guitar, and a number added to my age do not change me one bit. I’m still the same wilting wallflower adorned on the deepest corners of the room, trying in vain to be unnoticed. In other words, there’s still a lot to be done.

So much for commemoration. Time to live.

Saturday, June 9, 2007

The Death Of Music

Phoughts To Tonder

I normally wouldn’t put certain things into writing, but for the sake of “finding my voice” as a pussy-ass writer, and for the fact that I have nothing to do this 1 o’clock in the morning, here it goes.

Two weeks ago, our PC had to be reformatted because the ever-so-crappy Windows would crash every time the log-in screen was loading. The culprit, as I later found out, happened to be a spyware under the name svchost.exe. Or was it scvhost.exe? Anyway, I had to start from scratch and retool the PC from the ground up. Spyware sucks, I say.

All of my documents which spanned from high school to my current job have been erased from the hard disk. Yes, it does blow, especially if the synthesis paper that was considering among the best in the batch was also deleted *coughcoughBUUUUUUULSHIT!cough* Anyway, that’s not the reason why I’m writing this “blog.” That day also had me bidding farewell to my six-year old .mp3 collection which spanned over 2,000 songs.

I know the number of songs in my collection pales in comparison to other people, and you’re probably thinking that I should just download them again from the Internet using a DSL or cable connection. However, that is beside the point. Most of these songs are downloaded from Napster (!) and Soulseek using a 56K dial-up modem. It usually took me about 30-40 minutes to download a 4mb song, so you can probably imagine what I’m feeling right now realizing that the 100+ hours I have invested downloading those songs off the Internet would only be wiped out by a single spyware in a matter of seconds.

Most of those songs have become sort of anthems for me during college. Apparently, you become affected by music if you keep on listening to them endlessly during the day. I won’t have to list down the name of the artists since it’s pretty irrelevant at the moment. It’s just that every time I listen to their songs, I get transported back to the Rizal Library in Arnnnnneow where I always fall asleep on the desk while reading Kant’s Critique Of Pure Reason for our Philosophy class. God, that was fucking boring.

Having your songs erased from your hard drive can be compared to having your diary stolen by your bratty brother, or that your underwear has gotten crusty from too much use and not much cleaning. Even if you tried recapturing that old feeling, writing the same thoughts from your stolen diary or purchasing brand new underwear from the same brand will surely fail to produce the sensation and spark that you once felt for them.

And right now, trying to write off the loss of an .mp3 collection still leaves a bitter taste on my mouth.


In related news, I just found out that Anneke van Giersbergen is leaving the Gathering. The death of music, indeed.

Monday, May 21, 2007

Things That I've Learned in Bohol

- I never really realized how 'special' ubes are made in Bohol until this trip. According to locals, only women are allowed to make ube in Bohol. Busty, naked women under the full moon, that is! The breasts of the woman would "kiss" the ube before it is reaped, or something. After the ube is ripe for the taking, a crack resembling a woman's genital would appear at the surface of the ube. Now, imagine Sunshine Cruz making them ubes. Tasty.

- Locals have also a tale on how the Chocolate Hills were formed. There are actually three versions of the story, and one of the stories had something to do with feces. However, the tour guide only narrated the romantic story, so that disappointed me a bit.

Once upon a time, there was a giant who had a fascination to a townsgirl in Carmen. Unfortunately for the giant, he could only admire the girl at a distance because she already has a boyfriend. And so, the giant gave up on pursuing the girl of his dreams. Well, almost. One day, the giant caught a glimpse of the women taking a both somewhere in perhaps one of the lakes of Carmen. The giant was simply awestruck by the nakedness of the woman that he inched closer to the scene. For he can no longer keep his desires inside, the giant lunged at the woman and embraced her. Little did the giant know that his passionate embrace accidentally suffocated and killed the women. Griefstricken, the giant wept endlessly and let out huge teardrops at the land. Thus, the huge mounds.

Looking at the picture, I wonder how the feces version would go.

-Loboc prides themselves as the town with the best singers in the Philippines. Collectively, they destroy 99.9% of the singing population in the country. The best singers of the town happens to be between 8 to 12 years of age. In fact, the town has an ensemble who has performed on international competitions, most notably in Spain. The contest requires each participating group to sing at least one Spanish compostion, and apparently, the Boholano kids not only bagged the crowd, but also kicked the living shit out of the groups who even had Spanish as their native language. Now that's Pinoy (does the thumbs up gesture)!

- The beaches in Bohol are the best. I shit you not, my friend. It is definitely better than the overhyped Boracay, unless you prefer nightlife partying than pure island getaway. But since I am such an anti-social bitch, I'd choose Bohol in a heartbeat.

Balicasag is among the top 3 snorkling spots in the Philippines. The first one, if I recall correctly, is in Palawan. The tour guide was not able to recall the second best snorkling spot, which leaves Balicasag at number three. It takes roughly around 45 minutes from this place in Bohol which I forgot (stupid me) by palm boat to reach the island. Not a lot of people in Balicasag, I would say. In my humble opinion, the island's white sand and clear salt water pisses all over the commercialized beaches in the country. The snorkling experience was grand. Really, swimming at the deep blue and seeing the corals and the school of fishes make you wonder at the profundity of existence, and you suddenly feel this tingling sensation of wanting to experience all of these beauty in one single flush. But then again, that's just me.

Panglao is seen to be Bohol's version of Boracay. Again, white sand and clear water never dissapoints. One thing that is different with this beach as compared to other beaches is the division between its public and private areas. People coming from the palm boats have to pay a little bit more to enter the private area. The discrepancy has never been much more evident as the public area is loaded with people while the private only boasts a handful of fortunate tourists. Yes, such a system in the beach may appear to be snobbish and elitist, but not unless you reside on that side. Apparently, we were on the private area.

-After coming home from this vacation, I would pretty much save up enough money to go back there again. Seriously, I have yet to go to the Bee Farm and this cave they were talking about, among many other things. A little bit on the expensive side, but this is the real deal, folks! Bohol is d' best (does the thumbs up gesture yet again)!

Monday, February 26, 2007

A Tribute To Webdate

As of writing, it's already 2:27 AM, with our stomachs filled from eating "lunch" at the pantry room (chicken strips...mmm...) I'm also currently annoyed by one of my officemates right now, rubbing my crown with her fists, messing up my hair (not like it's fixed or something, but you get my drift.) On my left, two cubicles apart, my other officemate is listening to A Perfect Circle, Cradle of Filth, and Slipknot on his headset, but with volume that screams indifference. to the world around. Two cubicles away to his left, is another officemate of mine. Well, she's not actually there right now (as of most of the time,) because she's hanging with her friends across the room. All in all, another regular day here at Webdate.

This is what I'm going to write if I were to add another decrepit entry on my lameass blog two months ago.

A lot of changed since then. The client pulled out, leaving all of us "floating" in the office for quite a while. Some have found accounts as quick as you can say "HB," "Trax," and "Delwood" in a sentence (Bravo to Tina, Paeng, Ed, and Gil,) while others continue to drift away w
hile singing the annoying "Welcome To The Black Parade" and making crazy dance moves in the Training Room. I'm sure you'll all get clients, Raffy, Renzy, Ed (again,) and Rhae. Especially Rhae.

I got to see all of this transpire, but whether it was fortunate of me or not, you decide. Waiting at the Training Room for something, anything, to happen was as painful as getting stuck in a middle of nowhere. I simply felt that I should have been doing something instead of taking naps and frequenting Paul's desk, watching "Story of the Year" (secret.) As waiting for an accoun
t got a bit exhausting, the days got a bit longer, and life moved, but paused at the same time.

However, last Friday night, I got a call from Paul, saying that he got me an account scheduled at night, and my tenure would start next week. So there. I got what I wanted, an account. Yahoo.

But then, everything slowly sank in to me. Night shift. Account. This is what I wanted, right?

Kind of. It was cathartic, the fact that I'll be beginning a new chapter in my life, while closing what seemed to be one of my more entertaining moments in recent memory, being with the guys from Webdate. Kinda like orgasm gone awry.

Webdate was, for the most part, a dysfunctional group; a collection of individuals with contrasting personalities, of polar opposites (Renzy and Tina.) But like yin and yang, they stabilize the balance of the office space, as well as annoy certain accounts and project managers with their death-defying stubborness and their proclivity to piss people who are against them.

At the same time, Webdate are hooligans who knew how to have a great time together. From the hallowed bed scene incident in Tagaytay, the office romances, and the publicized sexual frustrations of some of its members (my lips are sealed,) these bitches definitely know how to stir shit in the pot, a pot which I would gladly dive if given the chance, as long as I won't have to dive along with shemales and/or erect horses.

Thanks for the seven months, Webdate. And, quoting a literary master, " I hechu all!"

P.S. Ginawa ko 'to dahil board ako. Yeah, you read that right! Board!

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Over the past few months, you readers (however few you might be, or I may be just talking to no one at all) have noticed that I haven't been as prolific in writing blogs as I was back in April to June. Well, I can easily explain myself for that. In fact, this explanation of mine has been long overdue.

During those days, I haven't been employed yet, so there was really nothing to do but fill my empty time writing shit on this blog. Yes, you heard me. Shit. Those Phoughts To Tonder entries I did? Shit. Anyway, that all changed after I became a "writer" for a certain company. However, what I didn't know was that being a "writer" for that company meant that...shit, I shouldn't even be saying thist. Point is, eventually, my "writing profession," as one may aptly see it, took its toll on my blog writing because I am basically doing the same thing in INADEQUACY and my current work. You know, bitching, rambling about how smelly my ass was, and writing about why I'm writing about nothing at all. I hope the last one made sense.

So what is the moral of this blog entry of mine? Emptiness makes us do something in our lives, no matter how meaningless the things we do might be. Holy shit, I better stop now, before I make less sense...

Friday, January 5, 2007

...lest we forget the year that has come and passed...

By the time I am writing this, I have finished my "work"earlier than usual, as I'm nonchalantly chatting around with the people from my YM list, and searching some music videos from the 90's at Youtube.

Just like you, everybody else will have downplayed the fact that it's already 2007, since people would probably expect the same shit to happen to them ("Different day, same old shit," as people would say.) However, looking back at the year that was, I would honestly have to say that it's one for the books. Consider:

  • I graduated from college last March, just before I was about to give up on studying.
  • My writing started to get better, thanks to my exposure in writing feature articles for Manila Times, and now, my current job at
  • Descant Gott participated in last year's Red Horse Beer Muziklaban. Although the band didn't win, it proved to me that all the time and hard work I invested on this band wasn't laid to waste. Add to the fact that the Red Horse Muziklaban 2006 was just released weeks ago would only (fingers crossed) bolster the interest of peopel to the band. Sorry if I'm getting ahead of myself, but I'm just glad that the band is here to stay (again, fingers crossed...)
  • I got a sweet-ass job at the aforementioned Although I have to admit that I could have gotten a better job with a more challenging workload and a more lucrative paycheck from a different company, this isn't bad for a first job. Plus, I have gotten to meet some of the best officemates in the world, ever. Top that, beyatch!
  • I have gotten to rid myself from purchasing a lot of CDs that I probably wouldn't listen to anyway. (WARNING: I will meander for a moment...) I mean, music is so cheap nowadays, with people having their iPods attached to their bodies like accesories to signify their status or something. Whatever. Forget what I said.
So there. Obviously, I'm just happy that I'm getting older, meaning that I'm nearing my death and all that jazz. Actually, I'm not really happy that I'm gonna die soon. It's just that I don't know how to end my blog. I mean, my officemate's spinning her chair just behind me, and she's feeling quite dizzy right now.

Oh yeah, I just remembered that I'm currently obsessed with Urbandub. Yeah, they rock! "Frailty" is probably my favorite song right now. Nothing can beat the line, "Awaken this sleeping heart of mine/ and be here now..."

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