a shoe case

Now that I'm done releasing all those pent-up hatred inside me, I'm beginning to think clearly. I really shouldn't blame my misfortune on those people who have no other fun in their miserable lives but to spit on unlikely public places. It might be the only sort of satisfaction they achieve in their lifetime. So I promise to let it be and call off my manslaughter plans until further notice.

After 3 glasses of whiskey, I began to think of what really is the issue here. It's not them. It's me! It seems that I have this sort of cruelty hurled at me by Lady Luck. And I don't even know why I offended her on the first place.

Recounting some events, let me take you 3 or 4 years ago. I had a date. We were to watch a movie on that day. I took my date from the apartment. Going to my date's place was a bit tricky. You know how it is in Phil'pines. I trod earth and grass and what not in order to reach the place.

We were already inside the moviehouse and enjoying each others company. No nasty things happened yet if you know what I mean. *wink* There was that smell I noticed a while back that seemed to get amplified inside the moviehouse. A foul smell. Immediately I thought it was my date having some kind of bad odor. Smelly mouth? Armpit? Body odor? I couldn't really figure out. I slowly leaned towards my date to check if the odor was there. There were no traces of foul smell anywhere. I was so sure it was not me. I mean why would I smell in the first place? I brushed my mouth thrice and almost emptied a bottle of mouthwash just for that day then spayed perfume all over my body.

That's when I began to suspect something. I raised my date's attention and we searched our chair for any traces of foul smelling object nearby. Then I told my date to look at the shoes. My date objected but I demanded that she might've stepped into something. Nothing's there. Then I checked my shoes. Pak! Pak! Pak! It's syet! I stepped syet on my way to my date's apartment! How cruel is that? To think that I bought my shoes a month or so ago! I was so ashamed but managed to pull my act together. I tossed the smelly shoe on the side and we continued to watch the movie amid all the ridicules my date threw at me.

(photo courtesy of www.altrec.com)

To further convince you that Lady Luck has a vendetta against me, let us go a bit further, one month since that shameful event happened. I went to work one day wearing the same pair of shoes. On my way to the company's gate I noticed something - a brown smudge on my shoes! Oh no! Not again! Further inspection using sense of smell revealed that, yes, it was syet! Deja vu. Pakin deja vu!

I leave it at those instances because if I have to narrate each and everyone of those unfortunate events I might've created a book.

senseless

I can't work. My brain just won't let me. Who in their sane mind would have the mojo to work on a Monday knowing that Tuesday and Wednesday are non-working days?

That is why I'm blogging like crazy. I even have one post-dated entry. Pshew! I've got piles and piles of workloads to do but my brain went off-mode. I don't even know what a CAN bus is or a Lundell machine or a 3-phase generating voltage and shit like these.

I want to go home and do senseless stuff like, I dunno.... watch porn maybe or play Mario or download Avatar? I want to be anywhere but here. While writing my previous entry, I was reminded to buy another pair of shoes for the office. My old one is already washed out. I've got a long list of things to buy - 26-in Bravia, Quad Core Q9xxx series CPU, a compact laptop, a digicam 'coz as you already knew I left my old one back at home, iPhone, 16GB flash drive and so on and so forth. So many things to buy, so little budget left. *sigh*

Why is the clock ticking so slow? I wish I have Hiro Nakamura's time-bending power so I can just freeze time and do absolutely anything I want. But you know me, I don't want any complications in my life and get entangled with crazy maniacs like Sylar or creepy black men like The Haitian so I might pass the opportunity if ever it comes along. Wait. Maybe I'll rob a bank first then bang Angelina Jolie before giving up my superpower.

Why am I babbling senseless shit?

massacre

I want to let out my frustration so please bear with me. The following paragraphs are not intended for the weak of heart.

Who likes to own a cool Kel-Tec PF-9, 9mm caliber recoil operated locked breech double action only single column magazine semi-automatic pistol with 30 pieces spare of pre-loaded magazines? Or how about a high power FN P90 submachine gun. Even cooler is the 7.62mm GAU-gatling gun. Who likes to own any of these? Raise your right hand so I can tally you in...... Done. If you own any handgun or any weapon of assault raise your left hand...... Good.

Okay. Now that I got the numbers let me laid out the plan. At exactly, 1533 hours this Wednesday, 1.October.2008, we will meet at an undisclosed address. Details will be emailed via secure server with 1024-bit encryption algorithm. A mini-biometrics scanner will be sent to your home address at 1900 hours tonight. It will do a retina scan and voice verification. After a successful authentication, it will display the decryption password for 3 seconds then will self-destruct. You will use this password to view the email.

Target will be specified in that email. Spare no one. Bigger bonus will be given to those who can shoot 'em between the eyes. If you happen to catch anybody within the building premise doing that disgusting spitting, I want you to cut his tongue first then make him drink a bottle of vinegar. After 10 minutes, shoot him between the eyes. If you catch him on the 10th floor or higher, took off all his clothes then drop him down head first. I don't want the clothes to give him any sort of cushion when he lands on the pavement, skull and bones broken with bits of flesh scattered around on a pool of blood.

You see, all I really wanted is to free the world with all those disgusting public spitters as much as I want to free Phil'pines with all those corrupt public officials. You already know the answer. It is next to impossible. That is why I'm taking this to the next level. If there's nobody out there who can do anything about this, even those so-called Elders of the World, then I will gladly step up to the challenge. Why, you ask?

It all started on a peaceful Saturday afternoon. I got hungry and called my other apartment mates to go downstairs and buy lunch. We gleefully chatted inside the elevator. The door opened on the first floor and we headed out. Just as I took my first step, I felt some sort of liquid substance touching on my feet. It couldn't be possible, I thought. Why would it rain inside the elevator? Then I inspect the sole of my left foot. Lo and behold, a sticky, phlegm-filled, yellowish spit was glued between my sole and slippers!!!!! I was disgusted beyond words but since I'm hungry as a wolf and because my motto is to fill my stomach first before anything else, I never thought much about it until after lunch. That is when I planned this whole man-slaughter thing.

After killing all targets in the building, I will pile up the corpse, stand on top, bathe with their blood and let out a Joker-kind of laugh. Maybe I'll skip the bathing part. I'm afraid there would be traces of melamine on their hemoglobin and would get me all sick for the rest of the week.

I've gone through my plans and it's perfect. All that's left to do is to draw that war paint. Let the massacre begin!!!!

(photo courtesy of http://peoplesgeography.com)

bitchin' on a birthday

You know bitchin', right? It's that white powdery thing you put on your dish to make it taste better. It's the same white powdery thing you excessively mix with dog food and feed on the next door noisy *askal that wakes the entire neighborhood up everytime you went home very late from a drinking spree (or a sex spree in some cases). The next day you'll find its carcass lying cold on the street with saliva bubbles on its mouth then say your pretentious regret to the sad owner. "He was a very protective dog. Always there for me when I went home late."

Sometimes bitchin' is called with its equally famous Japanese competitor. Got the pun? If you're still not amused at this point chances are you're an imbecile so better click that 'X' tab on the upper right hand of this window and leave me in peace. Or maybe I'm just a lousy joker. Whatever. This whole punch line just came to my head when I wrote the title and I felt corny(h, interchangeable) today so there yah go. Anyway.....

Work is such a bitch. And nothing's bitcher than waking up very early to attend an early morning training. I've been away from blogosphere due to some work maniacs shoving workloads up my ass every now and then. Then there are those training that start on ungodly hours. Imagine working 12-15 hours a day for the past couple of weeks or so!!!!! Imagine waking up at 6:30 in the morning so you'll be in the training room before 8!!!!! Imagine your senior assigning you some tasks then the project leader called you for another tasks then your manager explained to you some more additional paperworks that you need to do!!!! Imagine that!!!! However, it pays the bills you know so I might as well quit yapping and comply.

Used to be, I love my work very deeply. If she'd been a girl, I would've revered her from her hair strands all the way to her toe nails. Used to be, my ideal job is a disc jock on a famous NYC club. Used to be, I work hard so I can drown myself with weng-wengs, long islands, flaming ferraris, etc. on weekends and travel on nearby islands in the country.

Nowadays, my ideal job is to be part of a travel show crew. Nowadays, I work so I can pay expensive airplane tickets for a vacation to other countries then drown myself with weng-wengs, long islands, flaming ferraris, etc. Nowadays, my brain's too occupied about travel plans. Thailand next month. Hong Kong and Macau on December. Europe or US or NZ next year. Sigh!

Before I while you any further into this useless self-dilusion, let me greet a very good friend and a once special friend a happy happy birthday. Good wishes, hugs and kisses to you. See you soooooon.

I was tempted to put something nice here. A dozen flower perhaps or Ferrero Rocher or a cake. But I saw Wall-E last weekend and for some unknown reason I found him extra-extra adorable, cute even. I wanted to wrap him and send over as a birthday gift but I can't do that. So I'll just post him here instead.



*askal - short for asong kalye. Filipino term for stray dogs or dogs without refined breeding.

birthday

THANK.......

YOU.......

AND

THANK.......

YOU.......

"...a three-fold utopian dream..."

Brandon Boyd couldn't say it any better.

inasal

Grace and Elton, her husband, came back from a weeklong vacation on dear ol Phil'pines. And lookei what she got for me!!!!

One pound of pure unadulterated inasal meat!!!! CNT Lechon all the way from its Guadalupe Branch!!!! She invited me for dinner yesterday and gave me this for my doggie bag. Slurp!! Slurp!! While munching it bite by bite it seemed like I died and went to heaven. It's like orgasm, only better. I never thought I would miss inasal this much.

It made my mouth water just by typing this. So, you'll have to excuse me while I go and savor my piece of heaven.