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Monday, September 24, 2007

6

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

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