Silver Year Existential Crisis.

I've been thinking about becoming a polytheist. No, this has nothing to do with missing Game of Thrones. And yes, I realise my blasphemous notion flies in the face of a few thousand years of "Ye Shall have no other gods before me" (To be honest, even when I was a kid that commandment troubled me. It sounded like a jealous girlfriend saying, "If I catch you looking at other girls, you're in big trouble, Mister!" And don't get me started on how "no other gods before me" kinda implies that there might actually be some other gods loitering about).

But my main reason for considering becoming a Pagan (Pagish?), is that it neatly answers the age-old question, "Why does god allow so much suffering in the world?" When tragedy strikes, the monotheistic approach can only offer the tired old, "It is not for us to question god's will" Really? Why not us? Who else is in the question business? But look what happens when we ask the same question from a pantheistic perspective.

Why do the gods allow so much suffering in the world? Because outside of their particular area of expertise; farming, war, fertility, what-have-you, they are not even remotely in control. The buck stops nowhere. (In this scenario both the Old and New Testament deities are off the hook as far as your general suffering is concerned.)

But here's the really good news: with the polytheistic approach to prayer we can micro-target our beseeching. Trouble with love? Take it to Aphrodite. Not catching enough fish? Poseidon. Are you regularly waking up from the alcohol-induced blackouts in the sleeping compartment of a long-haul trucks that carry circus equipment and little people? That sounds like a job of Dionysus. Your jokes are not funny? How about asking Anansi? In other words, whatever crisis might be, there's a god ready to take your call.

What are you waiting for? Call now and receive a free goat-sacrificing kit! (Goat sold separately)

Le Taxi Driver Experience

                       

The best tour guides in any city are the cab drivers. They know all things both trivial and weird about places that you will not find in any travel guide books and blogs. This is specially true in the small city state of Singapore, where a cab driver of 2 years probably have been literally everywhere multiple times. These cab drivers can also be a source of general opinions (political or otherwise, mostly unwanted too) and local gossips. If they are talkative enough, they could be a the Singapore voice in a nutshell for Tourists.

As a matter of fact, I learned all the juicy stuffs and street knowledge from them when I first settled here some 5 years ago. 

Scene number 1: 
Coming from a party around 2AM, going back home I heard this unexpected field report about Girls of Geylang. 

Me: Uncle, Lorong 28 Geylang
Driver: Ahhh.... Which way, geylang ah? You Filipino ah?
Me: We go Guillemard, Yeah, How can you tell?
Driver: You, Babaero ahh.. Hahahahaha (Babaero = Playboy in tagalog)
Me: Where did you learn that word?!
Driver: My Filipina gerpren told me.

The Playboy Taxi Uncle who have a Filipina gerpren started telling stories about the girls I will find in Geylang. Apparently he thought I'm there to find some sexy time.

Driver: Dun waste your money with tseena gels ah. Outside they veli sweet. But you pay money   inside they just shake your didi until to come then finish leh. Waste of 100 dalla. Better take those indo cewek (?) (he pronouced as chiwek - i don't know what this is) at Lorong 10, you pay 30 or 40 good sevis oredi. Best sevis are Thailand ger. Veli veli good sevis.

=========

Scene number 2:
I Learned On how big Singapore actually is.

Driver: I drive 20 years. First time flood like this. Siao eh (crazy) betta commute but MRT faulty too. Dun know what’s happening leh.

They dig dig for mrt. Yellow line, Brown line, why need so many lines ah, Singapore so small what? 
I drive from Changi to Tuas in 1hour! Aiyoo!

=========

Scene Number 3: 
They are also multilingual and amusing with their showing off.

Driver: You Filipino ah?

Ako: Yup, how did you know?

Driver: How you speak. I kenna learn Filipino too. Salamat po!

Ako: Cool, where did you learn?

Driver: I have lots of Filipino passengers, night shift call centers and club gels.

Ako: Ah…

Driver: Kaliwa, kanan? Hahahahaha. (translation: Left or Right? LOL) -- This despite we were on an overpass and there are not exits to turn left or right

======

Scene number 4:
Singapore held a Presidential Election 2 years ago, and coming from PH with a westernized political structure, the notion of Prime Minister and MP's confuses me. Uncle Cabbie to the rescue.

Driver: Election coming already, all president running last name Tan. Very funny lah.

Ako: Uncle, what’s the difference between, President, Prime Minister and LKY (Lee Kuan Yew)

Driver: LKY is Minister Mentor, he is father. Prime Minister is his son (which is true literally)  

            President is like treasurer only and display.

Ako: Like mother?

Driver: No, more like maid.

====

Scene 4: 
Just like how they learn from us when it comes to Language. 
We too, can learn from them.

Driver: Filipino language almost same same with malay language

Ako: I know, Pintu, Batu, Gunting…

Driver: Yah lah, I understood what you talking back there.

Ako: Bro, what’s the Malay word for FART

Driver: Fat?

Ako: Fart

Driver: What? Fat ah?

Ako: No, no, fart. You know puuuttt and then bad smell? (while discribing, I was pointing at my ass)

Driver:  Ahhh… Buntut!

Ako: No, I know buntut. Buntut is tail right? Like monkey, tail? Buntut. I mean fart. The smell.

Driver: Ahhhh I know I know. KENTUT!

Ako: (Shocked) Really?! KENTUT?! Hahahaha. What does, Kentut means? (just to make sure)

Driver: Bad smell, you asked. Why you KENTUT ah? Don’t KENTUT inside my cab!!!

Sometime later (actually a few weeks after) I had a chance to ask our Malay speaking courier and ask him if KENTUT is fart and of course, It is. 

** Kentut sounds the same as the tagalog word for FUCK. The super obscene and vulgar version. 
     I am actually contemplating on writing it down because it's that vulgar I feel dirty. hahahaha.
     But here you go, KANTUT. So yeah. Cheers 

   

Do Not Read Before Dinner

I am not a sporty person. Yes, I do swim laps, and run and joined a couple of marathon or two here, but generally I am not a sporty person. I realized that when in my Elementary days, I joined the track and field but lost all my runs. They entered me as a shot-putter but I was too skinny. I tried high jump and long jump, both failed. In my adult life i found ways to slink off my colleagues football invitations (it's big here in SG), and even if I'm standing 5'10, I'm useless in basketball. I dunno why but I guess I'm not giving my all, I'm always playing safe. Afraid to be injured.

I remember my high school classmate breaking his arm in one of of our basketball game. It was so bad that his arms have to be casted away.

And when you have a broken arm, there aren't many choices for you in your life. You wipe your ass and you put the food in your mouth with the same hand, same fingers, and same fingernails.

I can just imagine how he washes his ass with a single hand.

You know how most of us isn't contented with just a wipe of a tissue. Wipe and Go never work out for me. I never feel clean without the feel of soap and water in my ass after taking a dump.  It's kind of hard with me if I go with one hand. Like I said, it's a process so I need the other hand to pour the water and then the other hand to wash the poos away from the hole. It's similar to the union of body and soul: The union of left and right hand, soap, lather, pour, rinse, smile. It's not a big deal if I smile after I take a dump, it's self-fulfillment after all.

I just can't sleep thinking about it, so tonight, I tried washing with only my right hand. No I didn't take a dump, I just tried washing. First, I wet my hand and bubble it up with soap. Then gently soap my ass with my bubble hand. Afterwards I pour water slowly, wash it up, pour again, wash, and pour water again, until the soapy slippery feeling is no more.

But.... What will happen if there is  shit clogging at the entry of your asshole? That's where the trouble begins. You have to scrape it especially if its a sticker type of dump, because there IS actually no way that you could shake that off even if you get jiggy or wiggly with it. And even if you furiously tried doing that hole thing, like you make it blink or something (just like what the chicks -- chicken offspring, animal, fowl, et. al, get the picture?-- do when you blow their bottoms, it's like MOMOMOMOM kind of movement, like it's blinking)  there's no way that you could make tiny piece of shit drop.

So you have to scrape it. With two or three of your fingers. With your yet to be un-clipped fingernails.

So after you scrape it, you again go back to process of taking the soap, lather, pour, wash, so and so and so, and it's tiring for a single-handed person, don't you think? And at the end of the day you still have to eat with one hand. Yes, there are utensils, but what are you gonna do if you're eating shrimp or a very bony bangus?

So every time you meet a one-arm-casted-person. Be wary on shaking their hands.

Also, for some reason this post that was meant to be a lamentation about my lack of sporting abilities, somehow transmuted on a rant about shit. I hate writing free-flow, I should practice drafting my entries first.

This is a cocoon that fell from a branch, but it looks like shit. So Yeah.

Existential Dilemma of an Almost 30 y/o Happy Guy.

Have you ever thought on which way you wouldn't like to die? 

For me It's Falling Down The Stairs.

It's different from falling from a high rise building. When you fall from a building, depending on the height, it can give you 1 to 2 secs for your life to flash by your eyes. Burj Al Khalifa will give you 6 seconds. Then when you've seen everything, a fraction of a second will make you realise that you're done for and there is nothing you can do. With that millisecond, you give in and just relish the moment that you're finally flying. You begin to tell yourself that is awes.....PLAT! Then your brains are all over the pavement and your entrails probably a few meters from you. Falling from a Building is somehow a gutsy way to die. People imagine that you are a sort of Daredevil who bent down to peek a few inches more, lost your balance, fell, and splat. It's a stupid way to die. Stupid but Gutsy.

That's different from Falling Down The Stairs. The higher you fall the more painful it is. You go.. bump-break-bump-ouch-ouch-crack-plat. It's a longer process but I reckon that the "flashing-of-life-by-your-eyes" won't have a proper hold. It will be interrupted by every bones you break, every moan you make on your way down. You ARE CONSCIOUS WHILE FALLING. Then you die. Unlike the awesome/epic graphic remains you will have when you free fall, all you will be from the bottom of the stairs are a collection of weird limbs and bumps and bruises. 

Unlike free falling, death by staircase are 98% proof of stupidity. It's like texting while driving, or you misappropriate the size of your feet, or you're too confident with your stiletto. The other 2% is when it is a wet/slippery floor and some dumbass forget to put a warning sign. But then again, you should always be careful with stairs. So remember, falling from the stairs is stupid. You're Dead, and you're Stupid.

Honestly, If I am to have my way, I'd rather die of an illness, most preferably Cancer. You see, I think it's in our genes. They say my granny died of some illness caused by supernatural beings. Living in the province believing in superstitions for your whole life will make any inexplicable malady caused by Engkantos or Faeries. I have an aunt who died of Cancer (scientifically diagnosed)  and the symptoms are eerily the same. I had another Uncle who died of it too. I wish it would skip our generation, but if it doesn't, I think I'm the only one who have the emotional strength to handle it. I don't want to see one of my sisters suffering. 

I'm telling you this because last night, I slipped from my apartment staircase. It was the last step, I thought there wasn't any. I twisted my ankle, fell face down (but didn't face plant luckily) and my life didn't flash by. Instead I was thinking.... "Fuck! My cellphone! It's gonna smash!" You think that it's just a mere 1 step, but I'm 5-feet-10-inches, add that 1 step and I'm falling more than 6 feet in an inclined position yeah?

I ended up having a swollen ankle, some superficial scratch and bruises and I can't feel 3 of my toes. There must have been some muscle tear but I'm sure no bones were broken. My phone survived too.

To The Future Mrs. Fullero

Dear Future Mrs. Fullero,

It has been quite some time since I wrote you a letter. We have been together for a very very very long time. For a semi-ADHD-free-spirit-Libra like me, it feels like eternity. As a matter of fact, this is the longest commitment I've ever entered. Longer than my record career posting of 2 1/2 years and longer than any hobbies that I put my mind into.

I will marry you.

I can't wait to get married to you.

We will put on more years, even longer than my 14 years of my education combined. I cannot guarantee that the future will sail smoothly for us, our years together says it will not be so. There will be hardships and a lot of things you will have to put up with me and I will need a lot of patience to deal with you. But one thing is for sure, these will all be overwhelmed by the Love that we will pour in our relationship. We will endure like we did with our Long Distance Relationship.

You said you never had an inkling that I'd propose soon. With my father retiring, my sister still in her last year at the University, a couple of siblings jobless back then, it's not really a good time to save for a wedding isn't it? Honestly, I was thinking along the same line.

It never came into my mind until one weekend in August, when I woke up and said to myself "I gotta buy a ring!" It occupied my daily thoughts, nagging in the corner of my mind for months on end. I knew I have to take action or else I will explode. I don't know why, but I had a very bad premonition that you'll leave me  if I don't do it soon. That scared me a lot. You remember that cliched line from City of Angels? When Nick Cage told Meg Ryan that He'll rather have a short life with her, than eternity without her, or something along those lines? That's exactly how I felt. I ran my hand on my head and felt Nick Cage's hairline.

I can't remember the details last Christmas when I proposed inside the UST Church. All I know is that it was wet, because we were both crying. For some reason, both of us were kneeling too, but after you nod your head (I didn't hear you explicitly say YES) I felt way way better. Even your mother's looonnngggg text back informing her that I proposed, wouldn't dampen my mood. (I got a reply eventually saying "K")

I can't wait for us to share our own home in Pasig. Decorate it with furnitures from Ikea, curtains from Divisoria, and appliances from our wedding guests (hopefully). We will travel definitely. You'll have someone to hold your hands inside the plane because I know you're terrified of flying. We can go to that train trip from Malaysia to Cambodia finally. Maybe visit Jeju island in the future. I want to be with you alone first and savor being a married couple for as long as possible.... Then maybe we can have our own little runt or two. I pray to God that he/she will look like you. Tisay, big-eyed, with a facially proportioned nose. I'd love him/her to have a healthy supply of hair folicles too. We have to admit, my hairline plus your jawline is not a good combination.

We will be the good cop / bad cop when It comes to parenting. Naturally, between the two of us, you're the bad cop. We will be the coolest parents ever, you teaching them about good manners and right conducts, me about Starwars and how LOTR is the greatest piece of literature ever!

You see, I can't stop thinking and dreaming of our future together. I can breath it right now as I am typing this. I can smell the apple pie you will bake for me. I know you don't know how to cook, and neither do I, but I think I can live by with your brownies and cookies and pies. I can even see us past our middle age in our rocking chair sharing, watching movies on the future iTablet 40-50 years from now. Probably doting on our grandchildren. I don't know about you, but for me the future seems so near now.

If I could I'd move December 2013 tomorrow.

I hope you won't get tired of me saying I Love You. Because I really do :)

It is Monday Tomorrow.

Monday. I don't like Monday. I never liked Monday. I can't recall a time when I longed for Monday. I can only recall whining a lot about Monday. Especially Monday mornings.

I used to skip the first half of Mondays and went work only on the second half and its funny because nobody, even my supervisor realized that I'm always missing every first half of Monday. People tends to leave their heads at the comfort of their beds in between sheets and pillows when they go to work on Monday. It's either they don't have a clue or they don't give a shit if you're not in your place on Monday.

Good thing there are more excuses from work that you can think of on Monday than any other day of the week. Hangover from Thursday night is soooo unbelievable on Friday morning, and besides, no real work is being done during Monday, the real meat of production are during Wednesday and Thursday, other days that are not mention are just warm-up days.

I say we skip those days and pour all our skills and energy every Wednesday and Thursday, and Earth will be habitable longer if we don't move around during Monday.

Less travel to office means less fuel-burning means less greenhouse effect, and if all of us eat a lot of beef and stay in our houses every Monday, we can combat global warming in just two punches.

- Cows burps methane, eating them will kill the source of this bad gas.

- Cars, factories and air conditioners emits gases that are hard to pronounce and spell, those kind of gases are usually bad for the atmosphere and our vocabulary. By staying extra day indoor we will lessen the output of these bad gases.

- Crime rate is high during Monday because of traffic, that too will be solved, a bonus.

- Remember, winning the fight against global warming will lead to a better future for our children.
Hence, skipping Monday can save the future of the next generation.

-Don't you tell me you don't care about the next generation. They are the one who will invent the time machine and the teleports and the next generation ipod.

And don't tell me to start the work the next day, I hate Tuesday even more.

MillionMonk's Thoughts on Philippine Showbiz

TV networks are like religion. Its either you are Kapuso or Kapamilya and then you wage war with each other.

There are no more true comedy actors. Gone were the days of Vic Sotto/Rene Requiastas , Dolphy/Babalu slapsticks kind. Comedy in movies are provided by gay comedians with self-depreciating punchlines.

Since comedy is in a decline, so are Panget artistas. Even Panget artistas are endorsing beauty products now.

Reality TV is the way to "discover" mediocre and one hit wonders.

Winners of reality TV are suddenly revealved to have dated this actor/actress and was a part time model before joining the show. 

An actor can be a singer even if he is out of tune just based on his fame.

A singer can get Platinum record even if the whole album is 100% recycled songs. They call it revive/renditions/versions.

An actress can endorse vaginal wash even if she was publicly known to have had STD.

Majority of teen actors are rumored gays.

Majority of rumors are true.

You know a movie is coming when out of nowhere, Actress A and Actor B are linked to each other.

The watching audience are still stupid enough to believe screen love teams are real.

An old actor can have a leading lady the age of his daughther or grandchild.

And yes, they do have kissing scenes.

Everyone is dating everybody. They just keep swapping love teams.

In effect, everbody are losyang. Actress A have been an ex of actor B but before that actor c, simultaneos with actor d. And now dating Actor e. Those actors have dated actress a-z and they are all close friends.

They are not afraid of over exposure. They can be in 3 series, hosting a variety show and showing a movie at the same time.

On a slow day, showbiz talk shows are known to invite couples to profess their never ending love on national TV every weekend. 

Their birthdays are celebrated in all shows, in all time slots. morning show, noon time variety show, afternoon talk show, evening news... (sige na kaw na tumuhog)

You walk out in an interview to incite controversy.

(insert decease here) Awareness organization pops out and comes alive when  a celebrity is inflicted with (insert decease here)

Domestic/Marital problem becomes national concern, and a subject of senate investigations  "in aid of legislation" 

Script Writers are too lazy to think of new stories and they just serialize old movies, with same characters, plot and everything.

Come to think of it, if they are are too lazy to think of an original story, what more more for original titles? Hence, cinenovelas.

Heroines these days are on either the extreme sides of personality disorders. Either Too kind, or too evil. 

Leads/love team in these series are obviously teen looking but they still get married/have children/have love childs/kill each other/do cheesy and mature things with each other. 

They still become role models of the generation.

However kind and empathic the bida is, in the end they always kill the contrabida.

Contrabidas, always die in a bloody gunfight or explosives at the end of the series.

The ending almost always involves kidnapping.

These happens irregardless if the series are Comedy/ Romantic or fantasy. 

Characters get sick/die/disappear on Series A just to be revived as a new character on series B.

Politicians wants to be actors. Actors want to be politicians. A Boxer wants to be both.

You don't need to know good acting to be an actor. You just have to look good.

You don't need to be good in acting to be an actress. You just have be a daughter of a celebrity.

Actors are used to reading scripts, their true intellectual capacities come out when interviewed candidly ( Psychology daw sya)

Speaking fluent tagalog is optional. Baluktot accent is considered cute. In any case that's what the dubbers are for. 

Nobody admits they are dating, they are just enjoying each other's company.

We are all surpised when they break up.

Tabloids are more credible  than the broadsheets.

Talkshow host are more authorative than news achors.

Tabloids and Talkshow hosts are often kanto gays or gossiping matronas.

Apparently they have a degree in broadcasting or and journalism major in tsismising.

Majority of child stars grow up to be matinee idols and sexy starlets.

Most of these childs are already wasak.

only Sarah Geronimo is still a virgin.

My Mind is Travelling in a Speed of Light

I admit that I have a short attention span. I cannot travel without a book or  music. My 45minute commute usually consist of listening to podcasts, whole albums I've downloaded (currenly playing: Dashboard Confessional, Alter the Ending album) or reading a book I borrowed from the library. Lacking these, I either read anything my eyes set upon. I once spent 10 mins reading and scrutinizng every detail of a reciept I got from Old Chang Kee, or rearraging the meager apps on my iPod Touch (total of 19 icons only) or anything that will keep my self in the real world.

It becomes really weird when I start day dreaming. At one time, I pretended I have to power to control the traffic lights. I have this face when I'm concentrating, brows furrowing, eyes slitting, lips pouting. Its kinda like when I'm sitting in my divine dierde. I reckon I look like Vegeta charging up.

See? I'm babbling. I already forgot what I'm supposed to type next.

A Repost from an Old Old Old Blog of Mine.

This is just a repost. I saw an old blog of mine, way back 2003. A year before I graduate college. I am blushing because of shame when i read it because of the obvious teenage angst during those times and I think I was having somekind of emotional turmoil going on. I even forgot that I have this list! (which I eventually didn't heed)
Added some comments and edited what doesn't apply anymore.

====
Qualification Checklist to be Millionmonk's Girlfriend
(QCTBMG for short)
Below is my previously super-secret list of qualities to look for in a girlfriend. Since I have given up dating, I believe that this, like the previously top-secret research about the atomic bomb, may now be disseminated throughout the public domain with little consequence.

1. Above Average Intelligence

This is the most important quality for me, and it unfortunately makes my pool of potentials that much smaller. (Please don't interpret that as a sexist remark, I believe there are a lot of stupid males out there too; of course, what concerns me is the stupid females, but i guess that goes without saying.) I know that that sounds a bit restrictive, but I'm quite sure I wouldn't be happy with a girlfriend with an IQ of a truck driver, so there.

2. Low to Below Average Volume Levels
This is a good way to curb #1, because a lot of the smart girls I met initially were, shall we say, "loud whining bitches," which I found annoying to say the least. I'm always wary about girls that can't stop talking because I feel like they'll suddenly just pass out on the floor at any minute, and I will be expected to drag their loud whining bitch asses to the hospital. I read somewhere that a girl's average number of spoken-words-per-day is about 10,000, while a guy's is about a third of that.
Also, soft-spoken girls have the added bonus of being very easy to introduce to your parents ... as opposed to a "loud whining bitch", of course.

3. Humorous
That is, "having a sense of humor", and NOT "having a humorous appearance". I go for Wit rather than Slapstick in the humor department. I'm especially into racist and other forms of mean, politically-incorrect humor, but I draw the line at girls who actually prefer Guy Humor. I'd like that she could take a few raunchy jokes here and there without being offended, but as soon as she hunkers down and laughs about cock smoking with my friends, I'm outta there.

** Almost ignored this i guess. My girlfriend is the anthropological representation of the word "grouch" But nevertheless, it's always feels nice to make her laugh. ***

4. Sweet like Country-Style Maple Syrup

This is beginning to sound like a lonely hearts column, so I won't dwell on this quality too much. All the humor and wit in the world won't matter if you aren't cuddle-able, so there.

5. Knows What Works
This is the only quality that has something to do with appearance. I like girls that know how to look nice in context. For example, I don't go for girls who go to school with a lot of make-up on because I don't really think it's appropriate. I also don't like girls who try to wear tight clothes when they're tubby. It's all about what makes you look good and what is appropriate for the situation and above all, knowing the difference between Too little, Too much, and Just Plain Wrong.

6. Isn’t a Debate-Whore
This is another quality that I notice among smart and/or humorous girls. They tend to second-guess you at every opportunity, probably due to some insane, overpowering need to remind you of their smart and/or humorous personality. See, once I have made certain that a girl meets requirement #1, I no longer need to be reminded of that fact, especially Not Every Goddamned Minute for chrissakes.

Even small things like, if this particular episode of Friends has been aired before or not, becomes a subject of extreme dispute. I happen to feel very strongly about this quality, because I’m the sort of person who will not get into an argument unless I absolutely have to. Instead, I will be driven mad by the idea that I could’ve won that argument if I had tried, except I didn’t. Because I’m a loser.

** another one of the ignored rule. It's been a constant "debate" with her :P

7. Not Afraid to Experiment
You can interpret this one any way you want.

8. Loyal Like a Puppy
I'm really big on loyalty and fidelity, for personal reasons, and I expect the same from a girlfriend. People show loyalty in different ways and it's hard to really categorically say if a person is loyal or not. A girlfriend who can happily spend hours on end talking to other guys about their life or their job or how wide she can spread her legs, would make me really suspicious, to say the least. I don't believe in blind loyalty however. Use your head, by all means. It's a relationship, not a marriage.

9. Doesn't need big musckles
This is more of a cosmetic requirement. You only need 1 muscle to please a woman anyway.
... Well, 2, counting your tongue.

10. Appreciates the Details
This is the last requirement, and it's coincidentally something I look for in friends as well. I don't like people who live life in fast-forward, whose only definitions of success are where you've been and what you've done and who you know. There is so much beauty and humor and silliness in everyday life that a lot of people never stop to appreciate, and I find that to be a real waste. All you have to do is walk around and look.

*** To any girl who fits _all_ of these qualities, you're too late, sorry. Maybe in another lifetime. ***

Ihateitwhenidreamaboutzombies

Zombies. I have been dreaming about those undead lately. Last night I woke up with a start when I dreamt about zombies in our neighborhood (specifically Tramo St) chasing me because of my magic shoes. My body clock says it’s 4am. Don’t ask me how I know. I just know. I tried to sleep again and forced my mind into happier and pleasant things. It settled on a dream about me dancing Usher’s Yeah in Dance Central 2. I feel exalted because I’m nearing 5 stars and following the routine perfectly and well, because this is my dream. But then suddenly, before the last part, the music started shifting to the beats of Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Thisiscrazyshit I tell you. Thefuckingzombieswontleave me. I find myself suddenly inside the hospital tied on a bed. Supposedly, like Inception it was a dream within a dream and I was dreaming of dancing while I’m tied into a CT scan something.

Next thing I knew, I was struggling because the doctor was a zombie bent on eating my brains. I ran again with my magic shoes that makes me run exactly at 6.1 seconds per 100 meter, but found out that it’s the shoes that draws them into me and I have to untie the shoestrings to break the spell.

Then my cellphone/alarm clocked turned off and I have to reach it to snooze. I pressed a button and was momentarily blinded by the screen. I wanted to “snooze” again but the freaking light woke me up.

Long Time No Post. So Here's Something to Keep us Running

I am playing John Legend's Evolver album in my iPod in the loop for almost a day now. His album is sooooo addictive I think I'm turning gay overnight.

And I used to be industrialspeedmetalprogressivepunk rockerboy with a peace sign and a beer on my hand, and Ayn Rand book with an attitude.

I borrowed a DVD from the library, and I don't know what came into my mind when I took it. For once I thought I'd see a bollywood film that is not a musical production given that the main actor is English. Fat chance.

Now, I'm not really a bollywood watching kinda guy, but I'd watch any movie with Aishwara Rai. She's the only indian actor I know, and yeah, Amitab Bachman (who doesn't know Amitab Bachman anyway?) There is something really special with Indian actors really, specially the Men. They can act, do action movies, dance and sing -- in falsetto mind you. I wanted to go to India someday and I'm wondering if people will actually spontaneously break into a dance number. Flash mobbed in India -Dude that will be an experience of a life time. 

Jai ho!

Having a Japanese Friend is the Closest to Being One

I wish I have a Japanese friend. So far I've only met and almost talked to one, Yusuke, during a lomo photowalk. I talked to him once while crossing the street and joked about being the same name as Ghost Fighter's main protagonist and all I got was a dumb stare. Like "who-the-hell-are-you-talking-about" look. But I later learned he can't just cant really understand english. For all the hightech gadgetry and badassery when it comes to technology, apparently his mind was running like a 512mb modem when it comes to language.

So I left him alone, with his green Diana looking serious, sporting that Samurai look. I wanted to befriend him, but I guess that's not happening. Why is it so hard to do that these days without sounding like a complete retard?

Anyway, I finished re-reading The Train Man again for the nth time and it never fails to make me smirk everytime i see the typography characters.

Let me share you some.

(_0_)
    |      -- macho man
   / \
 /     \

 0
( \\     -- ocho ocho man!
 >>

Signal Man! My Superhero Name

Today I have a strange super power. Everytime I stare at my phone, it's either I will receive a call at that very moment or a text message from someone. EVERYTIME.
My worry is I may not be able to handle the responsibilities that comes along with this power. And I have a tendency to break like a bird sometimes.
Should I make my own tight costume? Or should I mingle with mortals?
The stress is just killing me-

Also, I can't think of a better title for this post 0_0

Fark Pork!

I once had a chat with my across-the-door-neighbor Rashid in the stairway while secretly sipping coffee, secretly because its the Holy Month of Ramadan and nobody wants to get caught with food and drinks stuffed in our mouth during this time or face an unholy consequence.

Anyway Rashid is a complete retard and full of shit because he told me that in order to cleanse my body and soul, I need to stay away from meat and consume only vegetables and tea. I told him that its such a stupid thing to say that even Gandhi will probably wake up from his grave and slap him seven times so he'll achieve an instant Nirvana. 


I further disputed him by implying that pork is sooo delicious it will give him the tranquility and limitless experience of enlightened mind that he's searching. He told me he opposes any violence against animals, I told him its fine, pigs are aware that they are being fed to be violated and be serve as Barbecued Pork Ribs with Chili Sauce Glaze. They will die fulfilled and satisfied if they served their purpose in life. He told me I'm crazy and I can go fuck myself. I told him I will.


This is not a post against vegetarians nor racial and religious discrimanation, but a post about a man wanting his meat and being told that he will go to hell because of it. 


PS. Just so you know, Rashid's breath stinks with curry, works at a construction site at the Marina district and constantly boasting his supposedly 7inch penis in every conversation and the number of Pinay from Lucky Plaza he supposedly banged with it.

Yesterday Thoughts

Yesterday, I realized I've been living with my EZ link card alone for 3 days straight. Last night, I decided that I want burgers for dinner. Semi-real food for a change. I fished out my wallet and wondered why I don't have any money left. I then realized, I've been surviving for cup noodles for lunch since tuesday and bread with nuttela for dinner. There have been a buffet lunch hotel presentation last Thursday and I was able to stuff myself silly with cereal prawns and chili padi, and never since last tuesday did I took  out notes from my wallet. I remember topping-up my EZ link card for 20dollars last monday though.

Bachelor's groceries

Yesterday, my trial for Adobe Photoshop expired. In these moments I started contemplating why I ever bought a Mac. I can't find any pirated version and the keys I gathered are not working at all. I'm back with my Acer laptop to post process my works.

sample

Yesterday, I realized I need some proper lens if I wanted to take my part time job seriously. Having a 50mm prime lens is not enough. I also need a speed light flash. The problem is my limited budget.

Yesterday, I ran out of peanut butter.

Yesterday, I saw an old uncle feeding sunny side up eggs to the birds. Ignorance is bliss.

Maria. Maria Ozawa

If you are going to watch Maria Ozawa Specials inside your office, make sure that you are not watching it in full screen and there is no ultra conservative woman behind you. Anyway, It is OK, she'll just laugh at what she'll see (specifically what Maria Ozawa is putting in her mouth) It's blurred anyway. No Harm Done.

Anyhoo, what’s up with Indonesia? Seems to me they are beginning to be the “turning point” of porn stars who wants to start a wholesome career part in acting. First, there was Maria Ozawa doing a horror movie followed by a comedy movie. Now at least 2 US porn stars are following suit. Even Sasha Grey is going to visit Jakarta to grace the red carpet and support her “colleagues” career moves. (yes, I am well updated on all kinds of news stories)

In the meanwhile, Indonesia being a widely strict/conservative Muslim country is torn on how to implement their codes on morality without admitting they committed sins against it. You see, they wanted to ban the these movies because the actors were stars of “immoral” films, but when asked if they have a proof, they can’t say yes, because watching porn, or possessions of these materials is a crime that will result incarceration and x number strokes of canes.

Politician: She’s Immoral because she stars in a p0rn movie!

Pilisopo: How’d you know?

Politician: Errr…

Pilosopo: Have you seen one of her movie?

Politician: Errr…

I love it when logic wins.

As Stupid as It Gets

I really hate it when things started to gather powder. I hate turning the house upside down and inside out just to look for a pen or a notebook, worse , smaller things like paper clips or a coin. And then when in obvious times that you don’t need them, they’ll appear right in front of you, or you’ll find them neatly arranged in a drawer. You’d like to ask them “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” (But of course I won’t really say those words. I find it disturbing to see other people talking to things and eventually going nuts because of them )

The last place you’ll find them is --- well, the last place you look at. Of course it is! How could you not find them where you found them?! (am I making sense?) It will be extremely stupid if you already saw what you’re looking and ignored it and still looked at other places just so you could “not find them where you looked at” (Geez, why am writing these justifications anyway, if you call these justifications)

Anyhoo, I was looking for my cell phone again for almost the 3 hours. I was sure I left it above the fridge, while I was reheating chicken nuggets for dinner, beside the hiding place for my coins. After my fruitless labours, I resolved to myself that I must have left it inside my bedroom. I even asked my housemates and logged in to Yahoo!Messenger to call it, while my face was laying flat on the floor to feel its vibration (it is on a silent mode), sweeping the my bedroom floor while accumulating various germs, microscopic insects etc. And finally I gave up and resolved it will turn up anyways when i least needed it.

Just barely 2 minutes after I lie down, I was jolted by a vibration. it was on my unkempt blanket, which is the first thing you will see when you entered my bedroom, which I have never even given a glance, or even attempted to fold.

Random Happy Thoughts

I'm really enjoying writing in this small and humble journal of mine.

I have read bloggers who have a hits counter, and some of them are enjoying a 480++ views, I guess that's how juicy and interesting most of their writings are. I envy good writers like that, not only are they intelligent and deep but they are also expressive, worthy of recognition.

With their wide knowledge of both the written and oral language, philandering with it is as easy and as natural as breathing. I really do envy them because they look at every detail with depth of probe and interest. While I continue to marvel them, undeniably, I am learning too.

That's why I took the initiative to write my own journal. Maybe I can finally set my own avenue of expressions? Nah, its still a far cry from reality, but really, writing is a very enjoyable venture. That is, if I know how to write in the first place. I try to append quality entries into my journal as many and as often as possible. I fear that I may be granted the "probing" eye of the better. Nonetheless, I still think that there is so little time for me to keep this journal of mine as alive as it is presently.
So many places to pour my outburst, but so little time. But time is well-spent i suppose. =)

Turning Japanese–Random weekend thought

Very few people know perhaps even my closest friends and my family don't have any idea err...I think nobody really knows because I never told anyone yet or maybe I told a friend about it casually but did not sounded so serious at that time and probably forgotten about it now- that I wanted to become a Japanese.

Yes and if I ever become one, if it's possible at all, I want to live in Japan, preferably in Tokyo and have my own punk band. Don't tell me to shutthefuckup and just be content of being what I am now and be patriotic and all because we all know that's bullshit.

This idea have been running through my head for sometime now and the very reason WHY I want to become one is already vague to me.But that will not stop me from pursuing the idea, no no! And nobody can stop someone from becoming a Japanese! Or an Eskimo or a Jedi Knight! You may think this is just another 'phase' that I will go through life like eating a balance diet and you might be right at some point there but I just don't give a shit right now.
I want to become a Japanese! Alright, that sounds weird when I say it out loud. Anyway, yeah.

I even own a samurai…

Notes on Kalibo–Caticlan Transfer

I'm starting to think that Boracay will be a yearly pilgrimage for me. I was captivated by its charm ever since my first visit last year. So when the I found out that PAL had a seat sale to Boracay last December I didn't think twice and booked a ticket for January.

The flight from Manila to Kalibo was thankfully uneventful. The weather was nice and cooperating albeit the strong winds and news of typhoons at the eastern parts of the Philippines. The newly built terminal was a surprise. I found out that Zest Air and China Southern flies direct to Kalibo now from Shanghai.

We boarded a van for the 2 hours transfer from Kalibo Airport to Caticlan Jetty. Earplug in my ear set to my "lullaby" playlist on my i-touch and I was prepared to doze off the whole duration of the trip. But the cramped seat and the breakneck speed driving keeps me awake. I had 3 American girls behind me giggling and suddenly exclaiming "I want that puppy" and "three" and "awww cute" and "that's five, no six!"

They were counting the Askals, or Stray dogs. Apparently, there are no stray dogs in their countries. Oh well, I was not sleepy and I joined their fun, counting the dogs by myself. I got easily bored and made my own list of anything too.

So here are the notes on List of Kalibo to Caticlan Thingeys;

4 cell phone calls answered by the driver while driving.

34 stray dogs

8 cows grazing at the grassy roadside

1 cemetery

14 schools

3 twenty-songs-playlist

5 albums (Finished 500 Days of Summer OST without skipping)

9 Y-fork roads

3 CUBAO - PASAY BUSSES!

4 miles of seaside road

a group of Kite surfers

3 foreigners seating behind me, giggling, laughing and enjoying the local sceneries

4 disgruntled local couples who can't take the 3 noisy foreigners

lost count on vehicles overtaken, I stopped at 33.

1 hour and 56 minutes Travel

Also I managed to acquire two new foursquare badges. "I'm on a boat" and "Explorer" Badges. Yey.