Monday, December 22, 2008

On Cramming Lots Of Things In A Post

I haven't updated this blog since like forever, so bear with my ranting and ravings as I do a brief rundown of the things I've gone through since my last entry, in no particular order:

I saw Sepultura perform at this year's Red Horse Muziklaban. To say that seeing the Brazilian band who influenced me into metal music was awe-inspiring would be an understatement. Originally, I wasn't planning on seeing them since the band has changed their lineup from the time I was really into them and their musical style has morphed into something I've never thoroughly enjoyed, but since I got free passes for the event, fuck it, I'm seeing them! Never have I imagined that I would witness them performing their trademark songs live, but I just did, a couple of feet away. Unreal. Simply put, highlight of 2008.

While I was burning the midnight oil in the office days ago, a person whom I haven't talked to for almost two years messaged me on my computer. Things ended in an abrupt and awkward fashion between us the last time we chatted, but having her message me and asking me how things are felt were quite a relief. A lot changed between our period of estrangement and I think that's a swell thing. She's doing well, I'm doing fine and dandy, and that's that. More importantly, I think we're back on communicating terms again. A nice complimentary gift before wrapping up the year that was.

A year ago, if you asked me my favorite animated movie, Ratatouille would be my unquestioned pick. However, after purchasing and watching the Wall-E 2-Disc Special Edition, this year's blockbuster Disney Pixar film blows and owns last year's hit in emphatic fashion. Although the veneer of the film is primarily a visual treat and geared for kids, the underlying theme and substance of the movie is, for a lack of a better word, awesome. Quote me when I say this: Best movie of 2008.

I saw Elf (Will Ferrell) again just before Christmas Day. It has become an annual thing for me to see the film and get that warm and fuzzy feeling inside. Santa ain't real, and Christmas is just way to get people to empty their pockets, but damnit, I feel helpless whenever Buddy gets the Holiday cheer in full throttle.

God, shoot me now.

I recently got a taste of the latest drink in bars and restaurant, Gilbey's Premium Strength. It's goes down smooth and straight, but the alcohol takes effect the moment you least expect it. BAM. Just. Like. That.

Yesterday, some of the iWeb people got together to celebrate the blessing (or lack thereof in their case) of the year that will pass. After not seeing them for like forever, It's great to be back with familiar people talking about not being a virgin, being in a relationship with a former student, and, of course, lame-ass jokes.

I still hate my job. Surprise, surprise.

So this is how I end my last post for the year? Pretty damn appropriate, if you ask me.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

On Reunions

I never liked reunions in any shape or form. I compare them to prom nights where people simply meet up and brag about how pretty or hot their partners are and the fucking that will ensue later than evening. In reunions, people talk about how they've spread their wings and soared after parting ways with others. Of course, reunions would probably end up on a sour note when everybody's realized that their former classmates, friends, and colleagues have drastically changed from before, as their life experiences during the period of estrangement have destroyed the synergy that a certain group of people once had. It's a sad epiphany, I tell you.

My former college buddy messaged and told me that one of our classmates will be arriving soon after a full two years into his religious vocation and a reunion will take place by that time. Even if the event called for us to wear formal attire (!), I simply could not say no.

So why flinch and put my anti-reunion stance into doubt? I don't really know. Add to the fact that I never really enjoyed my college years and oftentimes preferred to sulk and be alone rather than bask and take it easy with my classmates, and now I really don't have any clue why I went. Only when I was there when I realized how I missed those fuckers.

A lot of things have happened throughout the course of not seeing each other for quite some time. Most of them are taking up law school in Rockwell and Diliman, which is definitely good. The person who just arrived from its vocation is planning to take his MBA in Business Administration, if I'm not mistaken. One is a seminarian who is currently teaching CLA in an all-girls school. Now that's news. And me, well, let's forget about me.

From the outset, all of us present in the reunion may have undergone changes of different sorts, but the core that binds us, the sheer and sacred stupidity that we usually put ourselves into, has soldiered on and seems to be going stronger than ever. We reminisced our follies, trials, and misdemeanors, and we all just laughed at them. Now that I've thought about how I got lost going to the reunion, it's actually funny. Apparently, Manila Peninsula and Manila Intercontinental are two different hotels altogether. Hey, at least by wearing my stylish black long sleeves, I just made stupid look good. Quote me on that one.

After much laughter and cussing, we went our separate ways, only to find ourselves back in the grind of things. Slowly the realization of us (meaning I in particular) returning back to hours of cramming a thousand page worth of legal document and the times of losing our minds in front of the computer of your cubicle, cursing yourself why in the blue hell we're employed in the first place. But you know what, if another opportunity for us to meet again in the distant future, count me in. I won't get lost this time. I promise.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

On Degeneration

It's one of those times in a day where I don't have anything to do, and instead of reading a good book or watching a good movie, I browsed through some of the old entries I've written for the past two years. You see, the blog was meant to be an outlet to medicate the bad taste left by my final years in college, as well as being part of the unemployment line. True, those days were bawful (bad+awful), but they helped me produce some of the most inspired shit I have written throughout the years, save for the tons of adult video descriptions I did way back in the time (like, a couple of months ago).

Not to be sentimental, but damnit, there's something magical when reading even the most lamest of entries of what happened when you were down and out while listening to Slowdive in Hong Kong, or was having a blast playing with Koreans in Zambales, just before I pulled out my CD player and listened to Slowdive again. Ah, the CD player. Anybody remember that?

Seriously though, I was lame back then. And I loved every minute of it. Another thing: I liked how I was able to capture the bravura of being there at that moment, absorbing the positive vibe as it careens me to different sensations of the emotional spectrum. There was life in the words I wrote that, by reading them slowly like a retarded chimp, made me say, "Holy shit, that day was awesome," or , "That day sucked so much ass, it's awesome!"

Now, reading the entries I have left scattered in my blog like expired pancit bihon, I don't get everything from them. Sure, the emotions are there (anger, idleness, bordering on happy, happy but not quite), but I can't connect with 'em. All I see are a bunch of words piled up trying to say something and I can't seem to make out anything! Maybe I've regressed into a meandering, miserable dick who's a corporate slave, takes up his MA when there's time, and then...I don't know anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy like a slut who's had a buck worth of fuck, but...huh. I lost myself.

Shit. I really didn't know where to go with this. I was supposed to allude to my degeneration as a person who was deflowered and made numb by the corporate hell that I work for, but now that I've reached where I am, that's not gonna happen now. Oh well, it's never really good when I don't have anything to do.

Friday, November 7, 2008

On Brothertime

T'was a regular afternoon in the office as I was sitting half-asleep in front of my computer, navigating the screen with my mouse and doing copy and paste work, when suddenly I smelt a burning odor coming from below our cubicles. I stopped working and exerted all effort in verifying whether the smell had characteristics of something charred and where the smell is coming from. It looks like the smell was coming from my CPU so I freaked out a bit. My instinct told me to turn off the unit but when I reached for the power switch I felt an electric sting at the tip of my fingers. (Must be due to the fact that I have clammy hands.)

With my slight fear of electrocution, I pulled my hand away and didn't know what to do while my seatmates were flocking my burnt-smelling CPU. Luckily, somebody without clammy hands calmly turned off the unit, making me look like an as in the process. However, that's besides the point. Actually, it was not my CPU that produced the burning smell, but it came from the unit of the person across my cubicle, who I personally did not know. Going back a little bit further, while the commotion was going on, she asked me, "Kuya, sa yo po ba nanggagaling yun amoy na yun?" And it was that moment when it hit me: I'm getting old.

Months later, I went down with my co-worker, who was about to leave from work, to watch him smoke. (For all intents and purposes, let's just put how things happened as I say it, shall we?) After venting out the trials and tribulations of working for our current employer and comparing it to our previous employer (both of us worked at the same office before), his smoke reached the filter in no time and we headed back the building. Before parting ways, he said, "Trabaho ka na naman, sir!" And it again struck me, I'm old.

Staring into the mirror, I think I am about to form crow's feet at the side of my eyes. Every time I smile or squint, the skin seems to fold comfortably in the corners of my eyes. In only a matter of years, I will have crow's feet that resembles that of Luke Perry's during his amazing run as the high school heartthrob (at the age of 34, no less) in Beverly Hills 90210. Just the crow's feet part.

God, I feel ooooooooold.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

On Shameless Plugs

I don't usually promote stuff in my blog, but I will have to make an exception with this entry. My friend just recently put up his dental clinic called Go Smile! and just like any other start-up business, its word needs to be sprad. Not that this is going to make a whole lot of difference, but this is doing my part of promoting his puny-ass clinic (at least for now).

Go Smile! Dental Clinic is located at Manggahan, Pasig, in front of the Sta. Lucia Parish Church. The facilities are new, which makes for a commendable dental experience, but that's a given already. What's pretty cool with the clinic, however, is that patients can make reservations at any time of the day. I made an appointment at 11 in the evening, no problem. Plus, nobody can simply resist its perky logo.


Our building called for a fire drill one afternoon last week. That meant we had more than an hour to kill before we go back to our normal lives sitting in front of the computer for hours. Some ate, others went to Glorietta to shop, and most played DOTA at the nearest computer shop. I, being the abnormal person that I am, went where no other guy had gone before.

I had the best hour of relaxing Thai massage at TonTon's.

It was an affordable massage (300php) with a comely ambiance to sooth your senses and get you relaxed in no time, i.e. make you fall asleep. My female co-worker was giggling like a Japanese school slut when we entered the place, but by the time the masseuses were stepping on my back and stretching my body like the Golden Arch, it was pure nirvana from that moment on, devoid of cackles and squirms. Sure, I got burn out again after returning to the nightly grind at the cubicle, but work can't take away the effervescent hour of my time at TonTon's. Bitch.


I have a thing for stand-up comedy, which is why I have them playing on my CPU while I'm working. George Carlin and Bill Hicks most definitely rips you a new asshole. In the forehead. Dripping feces and all. Funny stuff.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

On Changes

  • Theme. It was only more than a year ago that I used black fonts over a pain white background for my blog site. Now, I return to my yellow on blue theme that graced the first few month of activity in my oh-so-precious blog. Really now, this isn't news. But what is?

  • Sounds. These past few weeks, in an attempt to freshen things up, I am currently listening to Mos Def, Talib Kewli, The Roots, BEP pre-Elephunk, and the Roots, as well as a handful of rap artists. Since then, I can't say that my day has been complete without listening to Dr. Dre's "Fuck You." My apologies to the metal community.

  • Norm. After weeks of bitching and whining silently like still water over my new work title and the burdensome responsibility that comes with it, I have come to a epiphany that, yes, I actually can handle this shit. Being the reluctantly willing guy to be sacrificed for an impossible project, I've seen and felt worse, but none of which involved a dick to be stuffed in my asshole. A cup of coffee, Cobra Energy Drink, and an FX ride straight to home are all I need.

  • Over. The semester, that is. No more studying and cramming for almost a month. Not that I did much studying anyway.

  • UneasinessIt's perhaps the first time this year that I genuinely don't have much to do for the day, but I seem to end up writing unsubstantial and prosaic crap happening in my life. Could it be that I'm a transcendent collection of organized thoughts trapped in boring day-job activities and nonchalant musings in my cubicle? We'll see.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

On Something Aside From Being Haggard

First off, not that you'd actually care with what I'm about to say, but I am glad to report that my bouts of whatever I was feeling on my previous entry has come and gone like a smelly fart. I no longer harbor any grudges or bad feelings over what transpired during those couple of days. Although my mood swings will get the best of me anytime soon, which then would lead me to write another mysterious rant over something so stupid, I'll just enjoy the giddiness and enthusiasm of the moment, if you don't mind.

Now, onto the awesome and less abstract happenings of my life.

I am currently spending around 12-14 hours in the office trying to beat deadlines and overlook the project, only to fail at doing good on both. As if losing sleep is bad enough. Strangely enough, I'm not complaining. Call me crazy and sexy, but I seem to enjoy the masochistic nature of the corporate environment. Not to mention, a couple of my co-workers seem to not like me, at least from a professional standpoint. I say, "Sfank me!"

I seem to have gotten my wish as things have become a bit edgy and turbulent as of late. From the night telling a former co-worker that I wish to get away from all the streamlined bullshit I've been mechanically doing for the past few months, well, things have become quite a shitstorm since then. No, there's nothing in particular that's wrong with my life -- it's great, in fact -- but there's definitely something not right at the moment. And I have yet to figure things out.

Hot damn I missed writing! And sleeping!

Thursday, October 2, 2008

On Most Haggardness And The Fake Silver Lining

School is almost out, full-time work has a lot of rather nice things in store for me, and I'm supposed to enjoy my Renaissance period of taking a break from my hectic workload these past months. Still, tragedy and misfortune rear their ugly heads as they took their twisted shape through disheartening events a couple of days ago. As a result, I'm back to my old loser self, blaming my own inability to become, as well as function like a regular, albeit a happy, retard, to other people.

I feel like shit.

I'm hating Others again. No, "hate" is such a strong word. Come to think of it, I don't share such sentiments toward them. In fact, I'm disappointed: disappointed of how I find it difficult to appreciate what and how people are instead of trying to find ways to blame them for my insecurities and shortcomings. It's hard, shit, and bullshit all rolled into a clusterfuck of...


Saturday, September 27, 2008

On More Haggardness And Its Silver Lining

Let's make this a brief and succinct entry, shall we?

After undergoing a ruthless and uncompromising series of events this past week, involving a changed work schedule in the middle of the week, school exams issues, and convoluted band gigs, I engulfed a furious barrage of brandy and gin shots after a nice set with the band to cap off a God-forsaken weekday journey on asinine and rocky grounds. I rode the cab with my group in the middle of the night and woke up sleeping in my room, fresh and clean -- save for a nasty blood clot on my left thumb that probably got caught when I climbed over our spiked gates -- without any recollections of what happened in between. Then again, I really DON'T wanna recall 'em.

In other news, I saw my classes pulling their last few meetings before I can finally live life by adjusting my work schedule to conventional hours and perhaps drinking more alcohol. I have also decided to respectfully turn down an offer to continue working for my part-time job this coming month, due to the fact that I have been "spreading myself too thin" on all my responsibilities. Never a good thing. Lastly, full-time work is on its path of taking shape and form for the good, and I may play a huge part in it.

Brief and succinct indeed.

Monday, September 8, 2008

On Haggardness

Ever felt like you're at the edge of a cliff and people are prodding you to jump and fuck off? Well, I haven't. Thank God for that.

Not to sound like Michelle McCool, but I'm loving life (gay), which is why I try to cram all of the productive things I can muster in my waking hours. For instance, I started taking up MA studies this year, and I'm probably chained with studying for three hours at the very most. Also, in order to finance my studies and pay the bills, I opted to work full-time as a writer in Makati. To top it all off, in hopes of saving up money for the future, I took up another part-time work. In writing, all of these things should forge a fulfilling life and a promising "future" for me.

As for the present, however, I'm barely getting the work done. If I were Dexter Morgan, I would have been leaving off blood trails of my victims on the street and dropping scalpels and knives on the crime scene. In other words, my work has been quite a mess.

Case in point: I'm actually running out of cash. Yes, you heard me. Despite my vain efforts of coming up with a scheme of saving money and spending the least amount on a regular basis, the continuously hiking gas prices and the domestic bills manage to suck my funds dry. My conundrum led me to take a part-time job, but it didn't necessarily make my life better. Instead of taking it easy at home after arriving from work, I still have to sit in front of the computer and type the night away before going to sleep. Plus, a stack of required literary materials for school that I dismissed from reading are staring at me in my room during sleep because my mind's tired of the hustle. Thankfully, they don't give me eloquent and artistic nightmares.

Don't get me wrong; I love the challenge (gay). If there's anything that should inspire men to perform at their best, then it should be the times when their backs are against the wall.

So is my back against the wall? Nope, but behind me is a path down the rocky shores. Should I jump down or should I burst through the fucking crowd? Actually, I don't even know what that means. Stupid figurative speech.

Thursday, August 28, 2008

On Being Sick

As of writing, I recently just recovered from a nasty bout with colds after days of suffering with clogged nostrils and blowing snot all over fresh rolls of tissue paper. If there's one thing that I don't like besides that lame radio jingle of GIS Express, it's having colds. No, scratch that. I HATE getting sick. Maybe I didn't mind when I was a kid so I can stay at home and play the SNES or the Playstation until I get sicker (hehe). However, when you're focused on earning money to pay for the bills and sustain a particular lifestyle, getting sick is not even an option. It throws you off your groove and makes you cranky the whole time, which is pretty much a bummer. No, scratch that yet again. Getting sick FUCKING SUCKS.

Anyway, before the post-sickness stress takes its course, I was able to maintain my sanity throughout the sick week with a dose of laughter. It all started with the entry of my former co-worker to the company I currently am working for. She's not just a co-worker, but she allows me to relieve stress by being funny without even trying. See just sits there, does her work, and it's already funny! I shit you not, my friend. Seriously through, it's actually a good thing that I have someone to communicate to with any way or method. My time in the office, in terms of socializing, is as interesting as watching cows consume grass. In other words, my anti-social tendencies and my Person Repellant quality ingrained in my DNA are taking full effect. With my former co-worker in the fold, the silent dynamics change, something that I welcome with open arms.

Also, more adventures have occurred on my way home from work. If the constant bickering and fighting between passengers are not enough, I boarded a bus with a lonely trobadour at the back singing cheeky songs straight from sleaziest bar you can think of. So he's singing songs and belting out the big notes without care of the irritation and inconvenience he is causing to the other passengers. Either that guy lost it, or he has cojones bigger than his voice. Another incident with a strange passenger happened when I sat beside a seemingly innocent girl who obvious came from the office. The bus was showing Scary Movie (a good film) and the girl immediately busted out laughing when the scene with a huge man posing as a lesbian high school gym teacher flashed her balls. The raging laughter ensued with the other countless funny scenes, as the whole bus was staring at her. And she's still laughing. To her credit, she made the film funnier.

So where was I? Oh, yeah. I'm not sick anymore.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

On Going Home

It's been a busy month for this working student. For those who don't know, I attend morning classes during Tuesdays and Thursdays before taking an hour-long travel to the office via car and bus. After arriving at work, I am immediately swamped with duties of editing documents about things I don't have any clue what it's about and don't have any intention to know. By the time I get back to the house late in the evening, all I want to do is take it easy as reward for a job well done today. However, I still have to catch up with the assigned readings for my Literature class.

This grueling schedule won't let up until the middle of October, when the academic semester gasps its final breaths. For now, I live by the mounting pressure of walking the thin line between order and chaos. It's not the easiest life in the world, mind you, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

If there's any consolation to this madness, the smoke-filled and heat-laden journey home is something I thoroughly enjoy.

There's nothing much to take pleasure from riding sloth-like buses in the metro as it slowly treks the highway, stopping in the middle of the road and scouring for more passengers, before riding two separate jeepneys (a trademark Filipino public transportation) on my way home. However, I have encountered a number of occasions where riding PUVs is much more interesting than driving a flashy automobile and head straight to the destination. Whereas driving a car is simply taking the straightforward route, riding public vehicles is akin to making complicated turns and encumbering stop before reaching the place. True, the latter is pretty silly and borderline stupid, but it does not fail to entertain.

The entertaining part of the trek back home, although it doesn't happen always, is the fighting engaged by passengers on the PUVs or people along the street. One time, I got to see hostile jacktards stuck together on the jeep I was also riding who were about to slug it out because one of them intentionally kicked the ass of the other riding the transportation. Unfortunately, just like real jacktards, they only exchanged menacing stares without laying a finger on each other. Lame.

Lately, while the jeep I was riding was put to a stop by the red lights, I witnessed a pair of dudes ganging up on a simpleton. The victim managed to break free from the headlock and immediately boarded our jeep wearing a disconcerted face. He told one of the passengers that he was simply walking along the street before both men lunged at him for the attack. Whether or not the debacle was all a stage to steal money I dare not ask, but it was the most glorious 2:30 AM ever.

More adventures in the future, perhaps?

Friday, August 8, 2008

On Quotable Quotes

To begin, I remember hearing a rather weird quote from a talk show program in the early '90s of a particular radio station. To paraphrase, the guy said that, "If you aim for the roof, you fall on the ground. But if you aim at the sky, you fall on the roof. So aim high!" This quote never made sense before, and it continues to baffle me up to this day as to why some guy would even coin such an asinine quote.

Let's analyze for a second. If the man falls on the ground, he would most likely break his bones at the very worst. However, if he falls on the roof, his body would pass through the steel (ouch) and come crashing down the ground(double ouch). The moral of the story? Never use houses and ground as an analogy to setting your goals.

Now, onto the gayness!

For years, I have dedicated my life to a simple saying, "The trick is to not care." Regardless of how pessimistic the quote may sound, I can honestly say that it has served be well throughout the times I was using it. In fact, the quote was never meant to be used in a negative way. For instance, I failed in a exam. Bah, who cares? I'll just ace the next one. Another example, a girl who I liked fucked me up big time. Screw that! I can get my nookie from someone else. In essence, the quote serves to see something positive from an awful situation by acknowledging the said incident and downplaying its effect to keep one from getting too absorbed with the failure. By not caring about my mishaps, I continue to act as a functioning human being.

However, ignoring feeling is one of the most difficult things that a person can actually do. I have seen people appear fine and dandy after a break-up or rejected from their job application, but they're obviously rotting in their core. I was rotting in my core for years by keeping inside bad feelings and disappointments towards people and things I cannot control. Those unspoken black emotions have become part of my character, which is why, for all my good nature and pleasant demeanor, I am essentially a sad and prosaic person.

Almost a year from now, I remember "giving" the quote to my officemate during her time of duress. I don't own the quote anymore (not that there it any owning in the first place) because it's not for me anymore. It has done me good, but it's probably time to move on into something much grander quote. What that is, however, is beyond me.

Monday, August 4, 2008

On Ennui

After getting accepted by my current employer, I was expecting a lot of work to be done judging from their tedious exam and interview process. It actually comes as a shock that I am bound to finish my first day with the company having done nothing but play online games at Albino Blacksheep (awesome site). For 8 hours. Worse, the languor will continue for another two months, said by some of the employees there. Imagine doing anything possible with a high-speed Internet -- without a firewall and blocked sites -- and get paid at the same time. Sounds like a great job, right?

I digress.

One of the reasons why I left my first job is the biting idleness. Although some people welcome it like a long lost friend, I treat it like visiting cousins I never got close with. Sure, the interest is there during the first few minutes when talking and getting to know them. However, after realizing that there's nothing else to talk about, you would probably be wishing that they leave the house soon.

I don't hate doing nothing, but I'm simply not used with being unproductive at work. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy watching random silliness from YouTube or playing close attention to basketball sites on the 'Net in between work, but doing that for 8 hours for the next two months? C'mon.

On a bright side, I could use this time to brush up on the assigned readings at the university. Thankfully. So I planned to devote the remaining hours at the office by reading Percy Bysshe Shelley and his magnificent contributions to the world of poetry. However, after reading a few pages from his A Defence of Poetry, I'd stick to ennui instead.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

On Job Applications

I enjoy getting interviewed and taking exams for a position in need of my services because I get to dust off the best-looking long sleeves and slacks from my dressers and wear them for the job offer, as well as flexing my intellectual muscles with their challenging exams. Judging from most of the companies I've applied for, I have been rejected only once because my inability to finish their exam, rewriting and condensing a 5,000-word economics article to 3,000, almost got me late with my prior commitment. Not to sound like a braggart, but when you really set your mind into doing something, it almost always follows that you'll get what you want.

I know most people who dislike the prospect of looking for another job, even if it means getting employed to a more profitable position with better career growth and opportunities, simply because they don't feel like it. That's not really such a bad thing, mind you, but you gotta do what's best for yourself.

However, looking too much for yourself can sometimes get the better of you. Case in point, the company I recently applied for in Makati.

I ran half an hour late due to the traffic and pouring rain at that time, but I thought it was going to be fine. Well, it was fine with the people and exam coordinator of the company since they guided me to the testing area, but not with the actually exam.

From my experience, exams are supposed to gauge your skills on that particular position you are applying for and usually consist of three parts: grammar, logic, and specialized test based on your work. However, it was only with this company that I endured and struggled through eight whopping exams within a 4-hour period! The exams are as follows: grammar, specialized test, another grammar exam, two psych exams (!), a logic exam, a write-up about yourself, and ANOTHER godforsaken grammar exam. By the time the logic exam kicked in, I was cursing and mumbling to myself on the absurdity of it all. Although the exhaustive and thorough examination has a purpose to serve, it was just unnecessary excessive and mind-numbing, especially the psych test that I feel should be scrapped. Then again, who cares about what I think?

Due to my weariness and confusion, I decided to screw with the remaining half of the exam since I had a feeling that my boorish attitude was overpowering any logical thought of trying to do well with the test. With everybody done since they started on time, I went out the room at exactly 6 p.m. semi-pissed after having skipped lunch for this downfall. Clearly not exactly the best day for me.

However, a week after the memorable exam of miserable proportions, I got a call from their HR department regarding an interview with the company for a job consideration. Strangely enough, I passed the exams.

Oh, the irony is killing me.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

On 2008 Wishlist

I posted an entry at the beginning of 2008 about goals and objectives that I must accomplish before the year ends. Now, I'm not really big on making resolutions for the new year, but I never have done this before my entire life since I believe that resolutions are meant to be broken. More than half the year have passed and it's time to revisit the wishes I have committed myself into doing this 2008:

watch all David Cronenberg, David Lynch, and Stephen Chow films

Since I've gotten busier throughout the years, I've decided to cut down on watching movies to save time and get more things done. I don't mind purchasing pirated DVDs from black markets despite their quality, but there are other better things for me to do at this point in time. So there.

read five of the penned 'Great American Novels': The Great Gatsby, Moby Dick, To Kill A Mockingbird, Grapes Of Wrath, The Scarlet Letter

Although I haven't read any of the titles above, buying the Scarlet Letter just recently nevertheless puts me on track with this list. There's just a lot of great books that I've been getting into (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Maurkami, The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield, and Misfortune by Wesley Stace) that the classics have been put on hold. In time, my friend. In time.

slowly but surely pick off Pablo Neruda writings off the shelves, in an attempt to bring back my fancy for poetry

I purchased Selected Readings earlier this year, but it seems that plans have changed, unfortunately. After getting accepted in the MA program in Anglo-American Literature at this particular university, my focus seems to have gone to fiction. Of course, I'll still find time for Neruda poetry here and there, but it won't be my priority for years to come.

have Kings of Convenience's "Cayman Islands," "Winning The Battle, Losing The War," "Homesick," "Manhattan Skyline," "I Don't Know What I Can Save You From," "The Weight Of My Words," and "Failure" down pat on the acoustic

You can count "Cayman Islands" in my guitar playlist sine I've been thoroughly playing it since January of this year. However, I can't say the same for the other because I've fallen out from my juice for guitar playing as of late. I don't know, but I can't see myself having memorized all these songs before the year ends.

FINALLY master the chromatic scale and sweep-picking

See above. Seriously, I don't have the discipline for practicing scales and modes on the guitar ever since. Yeah.

have the complete collection of Jim Lee's X-Men, all in .pdf format

The reason I wish to get myself acquainted -- and eventually collect in the future -- comic books is to atone for the comic book collection that I took for granted when I was a kid. Particularly, I wanted to redeem the lost first issue of X-Men Unlimited released in 1992 (I have no idea how much it cost, but let's assume that it's expensive to keep me motivated in my comic pursuits).

Of course, for those who know better, comic files can be read under .cbz format, and Jim Lee's version, although it is the most popular installment of the X-Men series, is certainly not the best. However, as fate would have it, I seem to have turned sour on X-Men and comics in particular because of the continuity issue that spans from decades of stories and plots that I have to acquaint myself in order to fully consume the awesomeness of Wolverine and the gang. Tempting offer, but no thanks. At least for now.

memorize and name parts of the car without even having to look at them, a skill that alpha-males are inherently blessed with

I learned how to handle an overheating car, if that counts. I have learned that I am simply not an automobile person and therefore cannot fulfill my [art of this bargain. Sorry.

So there you have it. I've found myself doing a lot lately, which compromised most of my wishes. However, I don't mind, as I can still fulfill these things in the future.

Monday, July 21, 2008

On Being A Filipino

Salamat, Nestle

Note: This post has nothing to do with Mark Lapid and his proverbial "Saging lang ang may puso" chutzpah.

I have tried being a Filipino for almost all my life. Sadly, I seem unable to translate myself in an expression that is truly Filipino. However, before you saddle me with full-blown remarks such as "Suck white-boy cock" or "Mabuhay ang Inang Bayan," I am proud to say that my favorite author is F. Sionil Jose, one of my favorite movies is Salawahan (Jay Ilagan, among others), and my 2nd year Filipino teacher who everybody hated pegged me as one of her favorite students, for some strange reason.

Just when I thought that my stock as a Filipino rose, it immediately devalued after I realized that I have yet to actually care about political issues that shape the country; I have yet to attend anti-government rallies in campus even though I'm not particularly fond of the consensus degradation path taken by our government officials. I would say that, in case the Philippines completely decays like banana peel in the near future, it's because of people like me and my alarming indifference that have let this once-proud country down. Worse, I don't even care what happens, as long as I have a sweet-ass job paying me a fat paycheck.

I have been taking classes about Philippine Literature In English this past month, and throughout the sessions, I am seriously wanting to change all of my bullshit ways. Well, not really.

(Forgive me if I turn a tad academic in this post, but please bear with me.)

What particularly struck me while reading the assigned texts for the class is the use of English in the country under American rule. Unlike during the Spanish regime, where Filipinos were prohibited from educating themselves of the horrible situation they're in, the American period marked improved communication and sharing of thoughts and ideas.

There was always the issue of Filipinos not being able to cultivate and fully harness their culture due to the forced influence pressed by their colonial masters. Throughout the years, Filipinos developed a distorted and fucked-up identity smeared by elements from different countries. This made an indelible mark in the national language because, during that time, Filipinos were actually reluctant of using Tagalog. Manuel Quezon believes that the Filipino language does not embody a the voice of being a Filipino. He even went as far as to say that something like the English language could do as our national language.

Well, I'm sorry to say, ex-President Quezon, that you are incorrect, and that Tagalog has served well in being the preferred language of the country throughout the years.

So ano nga ba talaga punto ko sa entry na ito? Magbabago nga ba ako? Ano koneksyon ng pagsalaysay ko ng pagiging alipin natin sa mga ibang bansa at ang naging bunga nito sa ating paggamit ng Tagalog.

Ewan ko. Bahala na.

On Writing

picture taken from this site

I live by writing as my current profession. During college, I never had any idea on what I would become in the future (no thanks to Philosophy and its highfalutin mumbo jumbo), but thankfully, the writing world somewhat accepted a wandering douche as part of their low-paying, poorly-compensated, and overworked organization (unless you work in the porn industry, where money is subject to how many dirty thoughts you can come up with).

Before I unleash a projected diatribe on everything against writing, let's get a couple of things straight: I ain't knocking other professions such as graphic designers and programmers, in particular, and nor am I bitching about my current workload, which happens to be fair by standard, but of course, people strive for more in life.

Writers are an under-appreciated bunch of literates who deserve more than 80-100 pesos for every 400-word article they make. Although people can prepare articles in an instant, that's without checking whether the grammar is correct, the thought is properly expressed, and the work is actually an intelligible piece of content. Most of the time, the article violates three of these cardinal rules, but it's not totally the fault of the writer. After writing about cabinets, insurance, and other asinine topics straight from the SEO septic tank of vomit-inducing keywords for the nth time, something has got to give in.

Since we're at it, bulk article writing blows. I'm sure some of you enjoy the prospect of writing and shaping up your literary skills just like how it did mine with my stint as an article generating guy, but that's barely scratching the surface. In essence, it forces you to write hundreds of articles in a span of a week, desensitizing your creative fervor, draining your writing juice, and numbing you from all the SEO restrictions and revisions that you will undertake from different Internet resources. Petulant blokes like me have found it nauseating after a week's worth of slaving and laboring to the almighty keyword.

Worse, there's really nothing left for Internet writers to do but take this silly job as a part-time endeavor and pretend that everything is fine and dandy. Although it's not really THAT bad, mind you, there are a lot of better jobs in store for you than merely regurgitating shitty information.

Monday, July 14, 2008

On Birthdays

I'm not particularly fond of birthdays, but I do appreciate the gesture. I appreciate the fact that people stop from doing whatever shit that have scheduled just to visit your home, partake on the prepared food, chug a beer or two, sing a couple of old songs, and head back to their caves like a sober hillbilly.

For years, it has been that way whenever I hold my birthday bash on our home. I only invite childhood friends during such festivities since I've pretty much shared my life with those assholes and it is only fitting for me to spend my purportedly special day with them. (For those who weren't invited, don't fret! Your time will come...) As expected, all of those invited arrived, perhaps making me the only person in our group to celebrate his birthday with everybody in tow.

However, I wouldn't be too sad if nobody came. Oh yes, it happened.

Well, not quite. Eons ago, only two people came to my birthday celebration (or lack thereof) past midnight at our house as we spent the night eating the prepared food that's gone cold and sang our hearts out with the videoke amidst the pouring rain. Surprisingly, I wasn't really bummed out about the whole thing thanks to lowered expectations that I developed early on in life. However, I did and still do feel that the celebration was one of the worst birthdays I ever had.

In conclusion, don't be like me who enjoys the company of only a handful of friends. Collect as many friends as possible in order to achieve harmony with the elements of life. If you're lucky, you may even get to enjoys your birthdays.

Monday, July 7, 2008

On Makati

I have been probably trumpeting this ever since, but I really treasure the moments working for iWeb during my first few months after graduating from college. Sure, the people were spiffy and the work was... really something, but I just realized now that the pleasure brought by working at iWeb had a lot to do with the surrounding where the office was originally situated.

Although the city is relatively far from where I currently live, traveling from home to Makati and back is like a walk in a park, only the park is an hour-long ride inside crammed buses, and I'm not even going to mention the waiting period. 'Exhausting' is pretty much the word that sums it all up. However, I wouldn't want it any other way because, strangely enough, I enjoy this quaint suffering. In fact, I'll probably live in Makati despite its inherent shortcomings (traffic, people, pollution, etc.) given the chance just for a single reason. Just so you know, it has nothing to do with living in the center of professional activity in the Philipines, but more of the nothingness of it all.

I would like to believe that Makati is the country's version of New York. Tall buildings, hot nightspots, and bright lights aside, it is a place where lots of lemmings wear their finest looking clothes and slick appearances as they walk along the sidewalk in varying paces, but crowding it regadless.

I enjoy the fact that despite their honed looks, folks in Makati look dead. Everybody tries to impress with their appearances but ultimately ends up looking like everybody else. Cold and lifeless, I would say.

I have this perverted fascination for obscurity. (My motto during college: Excellence in obscurity.) I never was the one to stand out. During school, I like to take the backseat of the class. Well, perhaps I few seats away from the back because I don't want to sit near the jocks. From that vantage point, you get a clear view of what's happening around you. People sleeping. People writing down notes. People flirting with each other. Lifeless, I might add.

After class, I was the first one to escape. Like I was not even there.

Getting accepted at my part-time job in Makati, I was once again acquainted with the comely city after two years. A rush of emotions enveloped me, as there was a strange feeling during the time when I was estranged from Makati and the office moved to Ortigas. Back then, I felt an elusive emptiness that can never be pinpointed because there was nothing to point at in the first place. I only realized it now that the luster of working for iWeb somewhat wore off after the relocation period. The luster was Makati.

Now, I'm walking alone the crammed street filled with empty drones. The place is like a lifeless party in a jungle filled with busy animals listening to their music players, trapped in their own party. A lifeless one, at that.

I have never felt alive.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

On Being A Loser

Ah, it's been long overdue for me to write something about this topic for a long time. Treat it as a love letter dedicated to who I really am. In case you have kind and consoling words regarding the matter at hand, spare me from them.


I am a loser. No shit. Always have, always will be.

It all started when I was still in grade school. People picked up on me since I was not the one to retaliate or offer them a fist in their faces the minute they begin riling up on me. I was mostly the butt of their jokes, the one ridiculed, and nobody really cared if I was treated that way.

I befriended one of my classmates around this time for a reason that I can never fully explain or explicate up until now. All he did was cause me torture and agony every time I was with him. One time, my childhood friend heard my classmate berate and cuss me at our home. I was used to the constant castigation my classmate dishes out, but it was the first time my childhood friend heard it. Suffice to say, he wanted to put beat the shit out of my classmate, something that I couldn't done before but simply didn't. Because I'm a wuss. And dumb.

I have to give credit where credit is due. He definitely made my life a living hell. I hated going to school because I'll see his stupid face and take the brunt of his stupid ways. I hate the fact that I was reduced to shit during class where I had to sit next to him. So kudos to him, really. A real asshole.

I simply don't understand the stupidity of adolescence trying to be tough and full of it, which is why I fell victim of such treatment. Seriously, there's nothing really worse than teenagers trying to act like they're oh-so-cool. After realizing that I was completely a tad different (i.e. loser) than the other guys at our school, I decided to drift into obscurity and keep a low profile ever since. This was around high school.

I never really had friends. Outside from childhood buddies, school did not produce people whom I felt comfortable with, save for two. The bullying had a profound effect in me that I slowly but surely develop hatred towards everybody. With the exception of a number of people, I hated my classmates who tried to look cool and belong to a clique, hated school for making me mingle and rub shoulders with such students, and hated pop music. Therefore, I was seen most of the time by myself. The only company that I enjoyed were two people who shared my fascination for Starcraft and Tekken, as well as Alice In Chains, Faith No More, and other heavy metal outfits who expressed juvenile hatred like its the most profound emotion ever. "Dirt" by Alice In Chains was my theme song and I took the lyrics to heart simply because I feel exactly like the song.

I never socialized with my classmates, never went to the majority of their wonderful functions, and never attended prom. That's because I never made a female friend until my second year in college.

College was a breath of fresh air at first. I began the first few months of my college life alone at the library sleeping or brushing up on the assigned readings. Soon, I met students who turned out to be good people and shared the same gift of gab that I possess. All the while as I was hanging with them, I felt a certain pleasure that I haven't experienced before around with other people. I thought, maybe I was finally cured from being what I really am. Maybe people aren't really shitty as I thought they are. However, good things don't often last long.

Once you expose your shortcomings and faults to people, they will start turning their backs on you. I felt this the strongest during my senior year. I started exhibiting characteristics of a recluse around this time, eating along at the most desolate and isolated bench in school. Strangely, I like the fact that I am this way, going about my clumsy and geeky ways without the company of others. This was also around the time that I was completely distraught by, you guessed it, a girl.

I was always afraid to mess shit up because one I do, it's all over. A single trip, a wrong word slipping from my mouth, all of these things I cannot bear to think of happening. The worst thing of it all is that messing shit up is always inevitable. It was bound to happen sooner or later. And it happened to me, to her. From their, I never really fully recovered up until half of the year was spent.

All of these memories rushed back to me just a full week ago, also from a particular slipping of the mouth. Again, it was inevitable. The bullying, the isolation, the difficulty of being alone, the rejection, the inadequacies, shortcomings, and other bullshit. It all came full circle.

Yes, I am a loser.

Thursday, June 19, 2008


People started calling me Benny in grade school. I refused the name simply because it's not part of my first name and is simply a derivation from my last name. However, I eventually relented since everybody started calling me Benny even without my approval. It reached to a point that they called me Benny the Ball (of Top Cat fame) and Benny the Bull (not only of the Chicago Bulls mascot, but also of Nelson Asaytono, the high-scoring power forward of the San Miguel Beermen in the PBA during the mid-'90s). The trend persevered in high school, since I attended the same school.

By the time I was applying for a college, I thought of finally dropping the Benny moniker and start anew using my real name. And so, when college application forms ask for my nickname, I wrote my real nickname. However, I still wrote Benny beside my real nickname because, honestly, I have gotten quite acquainted with it. Still, if I were given a choice which name to use, I'll choose my nickname in a heartbeat.

Unfortunately, I wasn't the one who will decide which nickname to use for college. As soon as the letter of the college I eventually attended was handed out from school, the first words from the paper were "Hello, Benny!" My seat-mate could not contain his laughter.

College came and went, but during the four excruciating years that I had to study, flunk exams, study again, and isolate myself from people, I was known as Benny, a monster that consumed who I am.

After college, I have sought to damn and trend and finally get rid of the Benny name. In fact, while working for a part-time job, I introduced myself to him as my real nickname as we met at a local bar to discuss business plans. However, I wasn't expecting a batchmate of mine in college to be also part of the team. She pretty much summed up my sentiments on our timely encounter that evening after finding out that I was using my real nickname and not Benny: "Ang weird." After weeks of hanging out with them, I eventually left for greener pastures.

The first full-time job that I got accepted in, I introduced myself as my real nickname. No more Benny, I said to myself, with a sigh of relief. However, I soon found out that they had a former officemate who goes by the name of my real nickname. And so, for the sake of further confusion and complication, I simply asked them to call me Benny instead.

After almost two years with the company, only the HR people call me with my real nickname. Everybody else refers to me as Benny. Up to now, they, along with my classmates and acquaintances during my academic life, still call me Benny. Hell, even my girlfriend calls me Benny.

To wrap things up, I sometimes find it difficult to introduce myself to other people. I sometimes slip during social coterie and introduce myself as my real nickname to people who don't know me, but most of the people there are familiar with me as Benny. Moreover, I sometimes stall for a couple of seconds whenever I introduce myself to other people: should I use Benny or my real nickname? After that, people comment on how long it took me to say my name, making me appear like I'm stupid or something.

So yeah, I am stupid.

Sunday, June 15, 2008


After realizing that I really didn't have anything to do this afternoon, I decided to clean my room after letting dust settle on my books, magazines, tables, and most of my stuff since the start of the year. I also disposed of the garbage I usually stick inside my drawers since it's been getting difficult opening and closing those damn compartments. Yep, I'm a disorganized mess. Wait, that's a double negative, which really makes me... Nevermind.

Anyway, upon taking out 90% of the stuff inside my room, I stumbled upon my college class picture taken six years ago that I keep inside my drawer. I didn't really enjoy my academic experience, dating back since grade school, so there wasn't anything that would make me nostalgic or even emotional at the very least. However, what actually prevents me from throwing it away is that, along with the picture, there includes pieces of papers of what my blockmates thought about me.

Our college holds dynamic orientations for freshmen students, and one of their activities is to write your name on a piece of paper and pass it to your blockmates where they'll write their impressions about you.

Written below are some of my favorite quips that my fellow classmates have written about me. Some are written out of fun, but most of them are true.

"Sobrang quiet mo,!! Magsalita ka naman!"

"Malalim. Taimtim. Masalimuot. Meron."

"You wanna fell pain, huh?! Come here boy, Ima spank yah silly! hehe!"

-This was in relation to my Fine Arts thesis about pain in poetry

"Plastic na pilosopo"

"Don't look so spaced out so often. Goodluck."

"Magpapari ka ba? Goodluck on your college life. Hope we could all be friends."

"Ok lng...Normal."

Looking back who I was to now, nothing has changed, actually. Sure, life experiences have made me more mature in my decisions and actions, but I essentially still am a retarded ass who can't remember what the Nicomachean Ethics is all about.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Author's Thoughts On Getting A Haircut

The owner of the page authorized a particular person to ask him question regarding having a haircut. The conversation is unedited and is true to the transcript.

Person: How long has it been since you last had your haircut?
Damned In Blue: Roughly a year ago, around May, but that was because I wanted to trim a certain part of my hair. As for the last time I underwent a drastic change with the help of a barber's pair of shears, that was March of last year when I traded in my puffy-looking do for the bald look.

P: What was the initial reaction of people around you after the haircut?
DIB: Of course, they were surprised, and with good reason. I wasn't the cleanest-looking guy they know, and for them to see me begin anew with my clean-cut look would at least come as a surprise.

P: Of course, it wasn't easy deciding whether or not you should have your haircut.
NIB: Definitely. For me, having a haircut is like a baptism or sorts, where I "renounce" my former life and trade in a clean slate where I could begin anew. I remember one time when a classmate of mine in college asked me if I had my haircut because of a girl (I also had a puffy-looking do before I went for the semi-bald image), and I simply had to let out a smile because it was kind of true, and I want to get rid of anything associated with that part of my life for the sake of beginning anew, even if it means cutting my pretty locks.

P: For the record, they're not locks, and they're not fucking pretty.
DIB: I know, I know. Jeez, buy yourself some funny bones, will you?

P: How does it feel getting your haircut?
DIB: Excellent question. It could either be the best or worst thing that one could ever do to himself. On the one hand, as I've mentioned, getting yourself a haircut could simply be a way pf shedding yourself from previous experiences that you simply want to get rid of, allowing you to start life without the burdens of the past. On the other, having your haircut for the wrong reasons could easily make it one of the things you'll even regret in your life. Imagine growing your hair down to your back, only to have it cut because it's hot or you simply felt having one.

In my case, I felt a sudden rush of exhilaration and sadness at the same time. I was excited to move on from obsessing for a long hair to simply getting a short hair that's maintenance-free. At the same time, having my hair cut is symbolic of severing your ties with the past. I always believe that having a haircut does not merely serve an aesthetic purpose, but it's also a way of reinventing the self from his previous excursion with life, purifying him from experiences that tainted his memories, and desiring to begin anew. In order words, Tabula Rasa, meaning "a clean slate".

P: That's similar to Georges Bataille's concept of mortifying and subjecting man's body through the severance of the limbs, which proves to purify man mentally and spiritually, albeit in the most gruesome manner possible.
DIB: Yes, but I'm not morbid enough to split ways with my hand just yet! (laughing)

P: Back to the haircut, what particular emotion prevails now that you'd have a different look.
DIB: I would have to say that the excitement and the satisfaction of having a new haircut ultimately prevailed. Although I definitely enjoyed having quite a long hair, it became apparently that I don't have the patience to grow my hair long enough, while the "rocker" stigma given with such a hair didn't help my cause either. Hence, I've decided a haircut that's "functional" and "easy to maintain".

P: You went infomercial about your hair. That's kinda sick, now ain't it?
DIB: Whatever, man.

P: So, where to from here?
NIB: I honestly don't know. I've obviously paved a path towards a new destination, a life without the baggage of extra hair from my previous life. The only thing I'm pretty sure is that I'm gonna play gigs like I came straight from a business meeting with my hair, something that our other guitarist would surely detest. (laughing) Nevertheless, I am quite happy with the turnout and looking forward for things to come.

P: My last question to you is this: what are you really severing from?
DIB: From everything. The shits, the loser moments, the mistakes, and most importantly, my own shortcomings.


Damned In Blue Has been writing useless mind ramblings and scribblings on the 'Net since 2005. Despite the years, he has yet to reach one hundred posts, which is pretty pathetic in its own right. For more uselessness, visit this site once in a while to get yourself alienated and desensitized from proper thought and sensation.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

After Two Months

Disclaimer: This entry serves as an atonement for the entries I should have done in the past, which explains the length of this particular entry, as well as the highfaluting words and the occasional unfocused and vague parts contained within. Bear with me on this one.

After resigning from my first full-time job to become a home-based writer, I thought I would have more time in my hands since I have total control of how I do and manage my work. Given the working conditions, the job definitely fits in my plan of getting a more focused production out from me, something that I have been striving for ever since because, strangely enough, I like to work.

Also, I figured that the job would also allow me to dabble into other things. Aside from the list of things I plan to accomplish before the year ends in an attempt to "get my shit together," so to speak, one of the plans that I had in mind was to write more blog entries (The Geek Revolution and Canned Thoughts, aside from this one).

However, as the months have passed, my original plans and goals mentioned above would either have to wait until I actually get to manage my time more properly, or would have to be revamped and compromised for a newer scheme that would fit my current state of occupation. It's kinda sad, actually.

I've pretty much lost out of touch lately on a lot of things I love to do. I don't get to play the guitar as much as I would want to and I've pretty much lost the penchant for reading things. In fact, I have yet to finish Baudolino by Umberto Eco which I started reading at the beginning of the year. I cannot truly say whether the book is just plain boring or is not my type, but the last time I flipped the pages of that book was two months ago.

All of these because of responsibilities.

I'm probably in one of those stages in life where the stick shift is on neutral and everything seems to be fleeting from one place to another. The temporal order of the universe subjects me to changes I'm not fully prepared for, which in turn drives me to change paths as well, until I reach a destination where I realizing my machine-like existence running on a futile purpose. However, as days go by, my purpose is losing out of me, as I am led trudging along with the whisper of orders that take me deeper into nowhere.

Okay, so that was a really melodramatic paragraph right now. I'm over-exaggerating, obviously, as I am happy with a lot of things running in my life as of the moment. However, dealing with aspect outside my personal life, the future looks a little too bleak for comfort.

Phoughts To Tonder

  • For those wanting to take a vacation somewhere in the Philippines, make sure that you visit Potipot Island, which is a 10-15 boat ride away from Zambales. White sand and clear water abound this exalting piece of land devoid of the gloss and glamor of Boracay, which is definitely a good thing. The Island is pretty small as you can walk along the shore and come back to where you started in less than 30 minutes. Also, it is advisable that you bring tents along with you because there is no shelter to shade you from the sun. Ah, the sexiness of burnt skin.

  • Wrestlemania XXIV was pretty good. I watched it with a couple of friends and was not disappointed one bit. There were filler matches (Kane vs. Chavo Guerrero for the ECW Title, Batista vs. Umaga, BunnyMania), good matches (the surprisingly entertaining Floyd Mayweather vs. The Big Show, Triple Threat Match For The WWE Championship), great matches (Edge vs. Undertaker for the Heavyweight Championship, Money In The Bank), and a pretty spectacular match that led most to take out their hankies from their pockets and wipe that wet spot from their eyes (Ric Flair vs. Shawn Michaels).

    What made the event better was the fact that my friends and I were watching it in a movie house with other wrestling fans. Everybody cheered and booed for their favorite wrestlers, which made me think that this is perhaps the closest thing I would get to a WWE stadium (not counting the possibility of me watching a future WWE tour in the Philippines).

  • Finally, the long wait is over as Meshuggah finally released their latest Magnum Opus entitled obZen. It's pretty standard Meshuggah fare with discordant riffs, impeccable drumming, and mind-blowing use of time signatures. They seemed to have continued from their previous releases (Catch Thirty-Three, I), which is definitely fine by me. And for the record, "Bleed" stands along "New Millennium Cyanide Christ," "Abnegating Cecity," "Cadavrous Mastication," "Rational Gaze," and "Shed" and one of its best songs ever.

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Feel Good Drag

There comes a time when you have to evaluate the path your life has been coursing throughout the year. For me, that time comes every January.

Believe me, it wasn't the easiest thing to do -- evaluating 2007. There were undeniably great moments, i.e. watching Youtube and sleeping on my desk during the night shift, summer escapade at Puerto Galera and Bohol, buying an Ibanez Jem Jr., but it was unfortunately overshadowed by really disheartening events that occurred during the later part of the year. Also, I most definitely underwent an epiphany that the stupid shits I have done and wished I did otherwise were, indeed, stupider than they seem.

So in essence, my January is the month to not only meant to make be feel like a million dollar douchebag, but it's also the time to clean out the bin of past baggages and make way for new trash to arrive. Ultimately, I end up shedding my old skin and growing back a new shiny coat in order to prevent the old crap from happening again, all for the sake of being a better man (even if not much) than the previous year.

As part of my skin-shedding fiasco, one of the first things I did was to leave from my current employer for a greater, funner, and more profitable opportunity outside. However, allow me to say I had a blast for almost two years with the company and have met the strangest, if not HORNIEST people in the metro.

Officemate # 1: gusto ko kumanta
Officemate # 1: pero gusto ko mic ni #!$@#$@# ang ggmit ko
Officemate # 1: ;))
Me: mic ni #!$@#$@#......
Me: :|
Officemate # 1: uu...
Officemate # 1: hairy mic
Officemate # 1: down der
Officemate # 1: :))
Me: taglibog ka pa rin


Officemate # 2: wag ka umalis
Officemate # 2: maganda ang [company name]
Officemate # 2: it's the first company I fell inlove with
Officemate # 2: and they have been good to you naman eh
Me: yes yes i know i know
Me: maganda vayad and shitz
Officemate # 2: no reason to leave
Me: ikaw rin
Officemate # 2: well as you can see dim ang future ko
Officemate # 2: so
Officemate # 2: yun
Me: dim like my pubic hair
Me: very bushy
Officemate # 2: yis

Finally, I seem to have met my match! Seriously though, watching YouPorn and other retarded hardcore sex videos will never be the same anymore knowing that they won't be around behind my back watching along with me.

Another thing that...well, nevermind.

But it's all good because I know everything will turn out fine in the end. I'll enjoy my soon-to-be job, I'll marry, find out that my sperm isn't fertile, will lose a lot of hair, and after that, I'll die sooner than expected. Amf!

"'Till I opened my eyes and walked out the door
And the clouds came tumbling down
And it's bye-bye goodbye I tried"

- Ben Folds, "Landed"

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Following Instructions

Hay. Read carefully.

  1. Nominate your top 3 or 5 favorite humor blogs

  2. post your list in your blog then go HERE and let them know who you voted

  3. Include THIS LINK in your entry as well

Distribution of Points:

Top 1 – 500 votes
Top 2 – 400 votes
Top 3 – 300 votes
(Top 4 – 200 votes)
(Top 5 – 100 votes)

Ok. Now, watch me DOH it!

Top 1: The Mundane Side Of Road
Top 2: The Devil Made Me Do It
Top 3: The Badly Written Sitcom

Now, do steps 2 and 3.

Oh, and by the way, Kwentong Barbero

Okay, thanks.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Short Stabs At Reality

Because I love doing late-notice blogs.

  • My celebration for the new year was unintentionally explosive, to say the least. I spent half of my time sitting on the toilet and unleashing my own brand of fireworks out my ass. I was suffering from diarrhea and every time I tried to eat something, I'm just gonna crap it out after 10 minutes or so. Considering that the food during this time of the year is nothing short of succulent and tasty, diarrhea blows. Literally.

  • This year is starting to be one of the worst in recent memory. Even the people that I know aren't too thrilled with hows things are going with their lives. It probably has something to do with personal and internal issues that remain unresolved, just like yours truly. However, I don't really like to think about it. As Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor in Moulin Rouge said, "Come what maaaaaaaay..."

  • Since late last year, a lot of guys whom I hanged out before, during, and after work have resigned, plans to resign, or fallen out of favor with their current accounts. In fairness, their displeasure for work is understandable since career growth is almost non-existent this company (as far as our track is concerned). With that said there's no more Webdate and no more silly banters and pointless gimmicks among co-workers (not on a grand scale, at least), which means more silent moments while watching lots of tumbleweeds roll from the distance.

    Everything kind of fell apart in the end, but not on sour note. Still, closing one chapter of one's life is almost always sad, or not. But then again, people have to move on and go on with their life.

  • On a lighter note, I've began drinking again. Regularly. Like, 3 bottles a day. Yeah! As Aristotle and some Chinese Philosopher said, "Moderation is key."

    And so I get to enjoy our gigs more. Usually, I don't drink when our band plays that evening because I'm manning the wheel and I don't want to crash and burn on the road like a prom queen anytime soon. But ever since I've started to drink beer in moderation in our gigs, I've become more, gasp, pleasant to be with!

    Still, it doesn't change the fact that I'm still a chump and a whore. So there.

  • Again, on a lighter note: please do listen to Sigur Rós during your spare time. Search them on Youtube, download them on Limewire, I don't care. Just do it.

Thursday, January 3, 2008

2008 Wish List

  • watch all David Cronenberg, David Lynch, and Stephen Chow films

  • read five of the penned 'Great American Novels': The Great Gatsby, Moby Dick, To Kill A Mockingbird, Grapes Of Wrath, The Scarlet Letter

  • slowly but surely pick off Pablo Neruda writings off the shelves, in an attempt to bring back my fancy for poetry

  • have Kings of Convenience's "Cayman Islands," "Winning The Battle, Losing The War," "Homesick," "Manhattan Skyline," "I Don't Know What I Can Save You From," "The Weight Of My Words," and "Failure" down pat on the acoustic

  • FINALLY master the chromatic scale and sweep-picking

  • have the complete collection of Jim Lee's X-Men, all in .pdf format

  • memorize and name parts of the car without even having to look at them, a skill that alpha-males are inherently blessed with

list subject to change over the course of the month

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