- Your name spelled backwards: Di ako marunong magspell. Pero tawag nila sakin "Pekto".
- Where were your parents born? Payatas Highlands si mommy dear. Di ko alam kung san pinanganak si tatay kasi sabi ni nanay singaw daw sya sa lupa.
- What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer? Sim Cityjail installer saka mp3s ng mga songs ng Cueshe. I <3 Cueshe.
- What's your favorite restaurant? Dampa - yung real dampa (as in sahig, i like authentic dining)
- Last time you swam in a pool? Di ko na maalala. Kelan ba huling bumaha?
- Have you ever been in a school play? Oo naman, bagay daw ako sa papel ni Impeng Negro. Natural na natural daw acting ko.
- How many kids do you want? As many as possible!! TEH ROXXOR.
- Type of music you dislike most? The kind that makes sense. I love Cueshe.
- Are you registered to vote? Oo naman! Sayang yung bayad ni mayor eh.
- Do you have cable? Jumper Cable. Para sa kuryente.
- Have you ever ridden on a moped? Ped lang. Pedicab
- Ever prank call anybody? Ummm sino ulit si Prank? Wala naman tumawag sakin na ganun pangalan.
- Ever get a parking ticket? Yeap! Asting ang concert nila!
- Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? Ano yun? Pwede Bungee diving?
- Furthest place you ever traveled? Summit of Mt. Smokey. Muntikan pa nga ako maprosbayt.
- Do you have a garden? No, but I have various growths of mold and fungi in my body. Counted ba yun?
- What's your favorite comic strip? Xerex.
- Do you really know all the words to your national anthem? Oo naman, yun nga lang ata natutunan ko sa school eh.
- Bath or Shower, morning or night? Poso, ever now and then.
- Best movie you've seen in the past month? Grease.
- Favorite pizza topping? Bread and daing bits.
- Chips or popcorn? Yung tagpipiso sa plaza.
- What color lipstick do you usually wear? Lipps Coloured Candy.
- Have you ever smoked peanut shells? Real men of the streets use rugby.
- Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? Junkyard wars lang. Yung makikipagupakan ka sa mga karibal nyo na basurero?
- Orange Juice or apple? Kung anong natira.
- Who was the last person you went out to dinner with and where did you dine? Last time ako naghapunan three days ago, with my bet Dollars. Ayan ginutom tuloy ako bigla.
- Favorite type chocolate bar? Tsoknat.
- When was the last time you voted at the polls? Nung municipal election. Naka500 din ako dun.
- Last time you ate a homegrown tomato? Yesterday. But it wasn't a tomato and it wasn't my home.
- Have you ever won a trophy? Taong grasa of the Year.
- Are you a good cook? Nakatikim ka na ba ng askal-ala-pobre?
- Do you know how to pump your own gas? I even know how to pump my own water from a poso.
- Ever order an article from an infomercial? Yes, yung commercial ng Caritas Manila.
- Sprite or 7-up? Ice tubig plx.
- Have you ever had to wear a uniform to work? The usual rags lang. If I want to be fashionable, meron din ako
- Last thing you bought at a pharmacy? Cough syrup. Pampa high.
- Ever throw up in public? Food poisoning has become so routing from eating out of the trashcan, I throw up more than I take a crap.
- Would you prefer being a millionaire or find true love? Kailangan pa bang imemorize yan?
- Do you believe in love at first sight? I love money and being able to have it in my pocket /tincan.
- Ever call a 1-900 number? Ano un.
- Can exs be friends? Specially if they have money.
- Who was the last person you visited in a hospital? The public doctor.
- Did you have a lot of hair when you were a baby? I was born postpuberty.
- What message is on your answering machine? I'm broke and starving. For the love of God, Send money plx
- What's your all time favorite Saturday Night Live Character? Jack Handey.
- What was the name of your first pet? Mr. Kuto (hulaan mo kung anong hayop sya)
- What is in your purse? I'm not sure. I haven't checked since I got this from the lady from the bus a while ago.
- Favorite thing to do before bedtime? Eat food.
- What is one thing you are grateful for today? That you're going to pay me for this interview and I get to eat and sniff rugby again.
50 Questions (TG Version)
Friday, June 30, 2006
50 Questions as answered by a fictional lubricated man of the streets (taong grasa)
Copy This
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Another story plagiarized again. Ohohoho.
Let me be clear about a few things. I'm not totally against grabbing other people's ideas and presenting it to other people. As we can't be thinking of the best ideas all the time, sometimes we just need to borrow the bubbles of other people to achieve our goals. No need to reinvent the wheel, because that's one of the few reasons lasting mediums of communication such as print and vinyl recordings were invented in the first place - sharing of knowledge, experiences, and pornography with the emphasis on the latter. Jokes are a good example of that, as with, ironically called, quotations. That's how jokes, urban legends, and quotes live long, through constant sharing.
But then again, you shouldn't start claiming shit as your own if you know it's not coming from you. Forgetting to tell where stuff came from is one thing but telling people stuff that you didn't shit came from you is another. Because that is lying. Lying is bad. It will make people who find out get pissed at you and probably, if you piss them enough, kick you in the nuts with zeal. I believe anybody can be pissed off enough to be able to kick people in the nads if you try hard enough. It's just harder to make some people get pissed that much, like the pope, and deaf-blind people.
I've lost count how many times my works I've done for Ragnarok Online fiction have been stolen and claimed by other people, on several occassions, they even stole stories that had my online name on them ("red" and "redkinoko") with the names still preserved, even the typos. Quotes I've made in public boards have been passed on too so many times, I can't even be sure that theyre coming from me anymore.
At first it's frustrating, because it's your hard work, it's something that you really put your heart into and to see your work being copied by others and claimed as their own, it's like seeing your kids stolen from you, and it's not the bad, snotty kids that get stolen - only the type that's really helpful around the house. Because like it or not, recognition is what drives an artist. A storyteller can tell a story so many times if nobody's there to listen.
But then again, you realize that no matter what the wordthieves do with the work, all praise and pwnage attributed to a work is still to its author. Because you know its your work. I believe that if you love your work in the right kind of way, you'll feel just as good as long as your work is being praised, even with you out of the picture.
"Some artists use art to glorify the lives they live. Real artists use the lives they live to glorify their art," says Da Vinci. Just kidding, he used art to be able to eat through patronship. I was the one who said that. Just now. To hell with you if you don't believe me.
Actually I find getting plagiarised quite flattering. That means one of two things. Either the one who stole my work is a tasteless hack who just feels he has to steal anything with more than four words or he's a regular joe who thinks my work is good enough to show to other people and claim as his own so as he gets praised. Not all works on the net get stolen so I guess my works being part of the stealable minority is a good benchmark. I'd like to believe that plagiarism of my work is a case of the latter, even if it's just me thinking about it.
Me feeling good about it, however, doesnt make plagiarism any lesser evil. You still stole stuff that's not yours. That makes you unworthy of that thing inside your skull that makes you eat, sleep, study, and download pirated episodes of Desperate Housewives.
We were given nature's largest brains for a reason - that is, for us to use it. If you have dignity left in you, use your head to create ideas the way your brain was designed to function. If God wanted you to just copy other people's works he would have put you in this world as a photocopier instead.
And we all know hanging around photocopiers makes one sterile.
Let me be clear about a few things. I'm not totally against grabbing other people's ideas and presenting it to other people. As we can't be thinking of the best ideas all the time, sometimes we just need to borrow the bubbles of other people to achieve our goals. No need to reinvent the wheel, because that's one of the few reasons lasting mediums of communication such as print and vinyl recordings were invented in the first place - sharing of knowledge, experiences, and pornography with the emphasis on the latter. Jokes are a good example of that, as with, ironically called, quotations. That's how jokes, urban legends, and quotes live long, through constant sharing.
But then again, you shouldn't start claiming shit as your own if you know it's not coming from you. Forgetting to tell where stuff came from is one thing but telling people stuff that you didn't shit came from you is another. Because that is lying. Lying is bad. It will make people who find out get pissed at you and probably, if you piss them enough, kick you in the nuts with zeal. I believe anybody can be pissed off enough to be able to kick people in the nads if you try hard enough. It's just harder to make some people get pissed that much, like the pope, and deaf-blind people.
I've lost count how many times my works I've done for Ragnarok Online fiction have been stolen and claimed by other people, on several occassions, they even stole stories that had my online name on them ("red" and "redkinoko") with the names still preserved, even the typos. Quotes I've made in public boards have been passed on too so many times, I can't even be sure that theyre coming from me anymore.
At first it's frustrating, because it's your hard work, it's something that you really put your heart into and to see your work being copied by others and claimed as their own, it's like seeing your kids stolen from you, and it's not the bad, snotty kids that get stolen - only the type that's really helpful around the house. Because like it or not, recognition is what drives an artist. A storyteller can tell a story so many times if nobody's there to listen.
But then again, you realize that no matter what the wordthieves do with the work, all praise and pwnage attributed to a work is still to its author. Because you know its your work. I believe that if you love your work in the right kind of way, you'll feel just as good as long as your work is being praised, even with you out of the picture.
"Some artists use art to glorify the lives they live. Real artists use the lives they live to glorify their art," says Da Vinci. Just kidding, he used art to be able to eat through patronship. I was the one who said that. Just now. To hell with you if you don't believe me.
Actually I find getting plagiarised quite flattering. That means one of two things. Either the one who stole my work is a tasteless hack who just feels he has to steal anything with more than four words or he's a regular joe who thinks my work is good enough to show to other people and claim as his own so as he gets praised. Not all works on the net get stolen so I guess my works being part of the stealable minority is a good benchmark. I'd like to believe that plagiarism of my work is a case of the latter, even if it's just me thinking about it.
Me feeling good about it, however, doesnt make plagiarism any lesser evil. You still stole stuff that's not yours. That makes you unworthy of that thing inside your skull that makes you eat, sleep, study, and download pirated episodes of Desperate Housewives.
We were given nature's largest brains for a reason - that is, for us to use it. If you have dignity left in you, use your head to create ideas the way your brain was designed to function. If God wanted you to just copy other people's works he would have put you in this world as a photocopier instead.
And we all know hanging around photocopiers makes one sterile.
Grammar in School
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Think back to your gradeschool/highschool days.
Why do people call the finals periodicals? periodical exams? I can understand periodicals because that refers to any paper that's published at any interval greater than one day. But periodical exams? Shouldnt it be PERIODIC Exams? Because testing is periodic? Uh oh.
I don't know if other schools have it but we used to have this thing called Theme Paper Writing. We are given a theme and then we write about it, first as a draft then as a revised copy. It makes you practice both English and the vernacular. But here's the thing. Shouldn't it be Themed Paper Writing since were writing about themes and NOT the theme itself?
Intramurals. Im sure you've had to go through one. Ever thought of why we call sports fests intramurals? Intramural is an adjective first and foremost and should not be used as a noun under the strict rules of them nazi english teachers from highschool. Next, the meaning of intramural is actually any activity done within the confines of any facility (i.e. literally within the walls) If that's the case, everything we do in school sans field trips are INTRAMURAL.
Pity that when I was younger I was too busy doing anything but paying attention to have noticed these things. It would have been an excellent topic for discussion when trying to avoid bringing up the idea that I didn't do homework again.
Selfquoteoftheday:
Life is like a play and youre either the audience or the cast. As the cast you will miss the show. As the audience you'll be shown what you're missing.
Spelilng Bee [sic]
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Spelling bees suck. I was watching ESPN the other day, expecting to see people injuring themselves, and instead I saw the Annual Scripps Howard National Spelling Bee. I can understand that ESPN stopped airing WWF Pay-per-View specials back in 2002 because there wasn't anything unpredictable about wresting, being a form of scripted entertainment and all but why do they have to air Spelling Bees?
First of all, a spelling bee is not a sport. Sports by definition is an active diversion requiring physical exertion and competition. Ergo, Spelling Bees are no more closer to sports than chess is to extreme sports. Spelling bees are like those reality tv shows minus the rewards, the excitement, and the abnoxious backwater contestant who keeps on thinking she should have won (every show must have one of this). Watching a spelling bee is like watching a comatose person and waiting for him to spring back to life. Draining.
Why do they even call it a "bee"? Bees are stupid insects. They die after they sting. They can't even get their shit right after a few million years for evolution.
So maybe you're arguing "But Jet, there are other meanings for bee!" So I try to look it up for you people. Here's what I get from the Scripps website:
The word bee, as used in spelling bee, is a language puzzle that has never been satisfactorily accounted for. A fairly old and widely-used word, it refers to a community social gathering at which friends and neighbors join together in a single activity (sewing, quilting, barn raising, etc.), usually to help one person or family. The earliest known example in print is a spinning bee, in 1769. Other early occurrences are husking bee (1816), apple bee (1827), and logging bee (1836). Spelling bee is apparently an American term. It first appeared in print in 1875, but it seems certain that the word was used orally for several years before that.
Those who used the word, including most early students of language, assumed that it was the same word as referred to the insect. They thought that this particular meaning had probably been inspired by the obvious similarity between these human gatherings and the industrious, social nature of a beehive. But in recent years scholars have rejected this explanation, suggesting instead that this bee is a completely different word. One possibility is that it comes from the Middle English word bene, which means "a prayer" or "a favor" (and is related to the more familiar word boon). In England, a dialectal form of this word, been or bean, referred to "voluntary help given by neighbors toward the accomplishment of a particular task." (Webster's Third New International Dictionary). Bee may simply be a shortened form of been, but no one is entirely certain.
A contest that challenges mastery of the language can't even get their words right. What the hell. And if it's not really animal theyre refering to, WHY THE HELL DO THEY KEEP ON INCLUDING DRAWINGS OF BEES IN THEIR BANNERS?
And I don't get why people just love this contest. There's nothing in it for the contestants, like forced labor without pay in a sweatshop. And these are just kids we're talking about.
So what makes a spelling bee exciting? Here's the basic premise of the "sport":
The basic rule of spelling a word in the competition is that once the contestant has started to spell a word, he may start over, but the letter or sequence of letters already spoken may not be changed. Failure to spell a word correctly disqualifies a contestant, who is removed from the competition. The competition is conducted in rounds until only one contestant remains.
Nice. What does that teach the kids? THAT YOU CANT FIX PAST MISTAKES? In some competitions, every word is sudden death. One wrong letter and youre out of the contest. Add to that the hype being given by adults to stupid pageants like these and it's likely you will be forever haunted by the E that came before the I, forcing you to grow up as an emotional retardate.
Worst bit of spelling bees is that the kids aren't even encourage to memorize the meaning of the words. It's like being able to enumerate all the Presidents of your country but not really know what they did for you. Oh wait...
Then there are the proud parents of the kids whose dignity and self-worth they are unwittingly gambling away in the worst possible contest they can join.
Proud mom: My kid can spell!
Me: So can my dictionary.
Proud mom: I'll pretend that I didnt hear that. George has won various spelling competitions in the regional and national levels.
Me: Maybe that's because he's never gone up against a dictionary before.
Proud mom: I'd like to see you do something like that.
Me: If that's getting you excited, wait till you see the spellcheck on my computer.
Like that's going to help his kid be successful in life.
Since when has being able to spell something right dictated somebody's success in life? I mean do HR people look for it in your resume? I can't imagine an HR person asking you in your job interview "What's the correct spelling of lugubrious?". When you run for president of your country, will they ask you to spell out the constitution? Will it do you any good when you're bagging groceries because spelling is the only thing you ever got good at?
Being able to spell better than any other kid doesnt prove you're smart. It doesn't prove you're diligent. It proves nothing other than the fact that you're a spelling geek. A walking dictionary. Whoopteedoo.
What's next a counting competition on ESPN?
Judge: Okay, Billy, what's the number next to 32767?
Billy: 3..2...7...6...
Commentator: This is a tough one folks. I hope Billy doesn't get confused.
Billy: ... 9?
Judge: wrong. The correct answer is 32768
Billy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Commentator: WAIT! OH NO! IT'S THE MASKED COUNTER COMING FROM BEHIND AND HE'S GOT A STEEL CHAIR!
Billy: *gets hit by steel chair*
Masked Counter: LAYING THE SMACK DOWN!
How exciting. The tingling feeling makes me think I'm almost peeing in my pants. Either that or I'm starting to develop kidney stones for the heck of it, because anything is more exciting than a counting competition.
First of all, a spelling bee is not a sport. Sports by definition is an active diversion requiring physical exertion and competition. Ergo, Spelling Bees are no more closer to sports than chess is to extreme sports. Spelling bees are like those reality tv shows minus the rewards, the excitement, and the abnoxious backwater contestant who keeps on thinking she should have won (every show must have one of this). Watching a spelling bee is like watching a comatose person and waiting for him to spring back to life. Draining.
Why do they even call it a "bee"? Bees are stupid insects. They die after they sting. They can't even get their shit right after a few million years for evolution.
So maybe you're arguing "But Jet, there are other meanings for bee!" So I try to look it up for you people. Here's what I get from the Scripps website:
The word bee, as used in spelling bee, is a language puzzle that has never been satisfactorily accounted for. A fairly old and widely-used word, it refers to a community social gathering at which friends and neighbors join together in a single activity (sewing, quilting, barn raising, etc.), usually to help one person or family. The earliest known example in print is a spinning bee, in 1769. Other early occurrences are husking bee (1816), apple bee (1827), and logging bee (1836). Spelling bee is apparently an American term. It first appeared in print in 1875, but it seems certain that the word was used orally for several years before that.
Those who used the word, including most early students of language, assumed that it was the same word as referred to the insect. They thought that this particular meaning had probably been inspired by the obvious similarity between these human gatherings and the industrious, social nature of a beehive. But in recent years scholars have rejected this explanation, suggesting instead that this bee is a completely different word. One possibility is that it comes from the Middle English word bene, which means "a prayer" or "a favor" (and is related to the more familiar word boon). In England, a dialectal form of this word, been or bean, referred to "voluntary help given by neighbors toward the accomplishment of a particular task." (Webster's Third New International Dictionary). Bee may simply be a shortened form of been, but no one is entirely certain.
A contest that challenges mastery of the language can't even get their words right. What the hell. And if it's not really animal theyre refering to, WHY THE HELL DO THEY KEEP ON INCLUDING DRAWINGS OF BEES IN THEIR BANNERS?
And I don't get why people just love this contest. There's nothing in it for the contestants, like forced labor without pay in a sweatshop. And these are just kids we're talking about.
So what makes a spelling bee exciting? Here's the basic premise of the "sport":
The basic rule of spelling a word in the competition is that once the contestant has started to spell a word, he may start over, but the letter or sequence of letters already spoken may not be changed. Failure to spell a word correctly disqualifies a contestant, who is removed from the competition. The competition is conducted in rounds until only one contestant remains.
Nice. What does that teach the kids? THAT YOU CANT FIX PAST MISTAKES? In some competitions, every word is sudden death. One wrong letter and youre out of the contest. Add to that the hype being given by adults to stupid pageants like these and it's likely you will be forever haunted by the E that came before the I, forcing you to grow up as an emotional retardate.
Worst bit of spelling bees is that the kids aren't even encourage to memorize the meaning of the words. It's like being able to enumerate all the Presidents of your country but not really know what they did for you. Oh wait...
Then there are the proud parents of the kids whose dignity and self-worth they are unwittingly gambling away in the worst possible contest they can join.
Proud mom: My kid can spell!
Me: So can my dictionary.
Proud mom: I'll pretend that I didnt hear that. George has won various spelling competitions in the regional and national levels.
Me: Maybe that's because he's never gone up against a dictionary before.
Proud mom: I'd like to see you do something like that.
Me: If that's getting you excited, wait till you see the spellcheck on my computer.
Like that's going to help his kid be successful in life.
Since when has being able to spell something right dictated somebody's success in life? I mean do HR people look for it in your resume? I can't imagine an HR person asking you in your job interview "What's the correct spelling of lugubrious?". When you run for president of your country, will they ask you to spell out the constitution? Will it do you any good when you're bagging groceries because spelling is the only thing you ever got good at?
Being able to spell better than any other kid doesnt prove you're smart. It doesn't prove you're diligent. It proves nothing other than the fact that you're a spelling geek. A walking dictionary. Whoopteedoo.
What's next a counting competition on ESPN?
Judge: Okay, Billy, what's the number next to 32767?
Billy: 3..2...7...6...
Commentator: This is a tough one folks. I hope Billy doesn't get confused.
Billy: ... 9?
Judge: wrong. The correct answer is 32768
Billy: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Commentator: WAIT! OH NO! IT'S THE MASKED COUNTER COMING FROM BEHIND AND HE'S GOT A STEEL CHAIR!
Billy: *gets hit by steel chair*
Masked Counter: LAYING THE SMACK DOWN!
How exciting. The tingling feeling makes me think I'm almost peeing in my pants. Either that or I'm starting to develop kidney stones for the heck of it, because anything is more exciting than a counting competition.
Toilet Talk
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Why do girls go to the comfort room in groups? Is it that hard to urinate as a female? I thought that as guys, having an extra appendage that needs aiming makes it harder for us to answer the call of nature without turning the comfort room into a wasteland in the most literal sense.
But noooo.
Why do they have to use the little girl's room in groups? Will urinating in groups make it easier? You're doing it sitting down, surrounded by four sides of the cubicle. How hard can that be? We do it standing, wary of another guy beside us who could be eyeing our package for more than just the sake of comparison, and all the while trying to avoid getting hit by stray "bullets" at the same time. Every visit to the CR is like a pageant where the biggest you-know-what wins, with a potential assassin lurking just 'round the corner. That's hard enough to be a movie plot.
Could it be that there's a bouncer inside every girl's lavatory that routinely checks its users? I can almost imagine it.
CR Bouncer: Excuse me miss, can I ask a few questions before you can use this CR?
Girl: Sure, make it quick.
CR Bouncer: Are you with anybody?
Girl: No.
CR Bouncer: Sorry ma'am, we have a minimum group bodycount here. You have to turn back.
Girl: *doomed to a wet-my-pants scenario*
Man, and I thought I'm already lucky as a guy!
Okay, okay, I'm not as ignorant as I sound. When girls go for the CR, it's like a conspiracy materializing. The female comfort room is like the War Room of the Pentagon. (How do I know? I have carefully implanted moles within your ranks! Wahahaha a double agent in your midst!)
That means, for all you uninitiated guys out there, if all girls in your table in a group gimik suddenly head for the CR, there's a good chance they're talking about you and the rest of the guys the same way you used to talk about trading basketball cards when you were younger - which one goes to who, the comparative value of each piece and which ones are "damaged" and should be used for bookmarks and bargain sales.
Now to be fair, if all the guys suddenly left the table and "headed for the cr" all of a sudden, that means you should get new dates - like more masculine ones, because real men hold it in till the last possible moment and a group of guys having to go at the same time had the same chances of seeing an anatomically correct banana.
That's just gay but dont worry, it wont happen that often Hopefully, never, because there will always be that one guy who stays because he likes to steal all the eggs when the roosters are gone. You will know him by the stare other guy friends give him everytime they have to go leave the table to get something (like something to kill that guy with).
It's very interesting to note though that there was once a study conducted in our university by sociologists about the unusually deviant behaviour of men located in our college (College of Computer Science) to routinely urinate in groups. In groups as in:
Guy #1: Ten minute break till the next subject. I think I'm gonna go to the boy's room.
Guy #2: Sama ako.
Guy #3: Pasabay na rin.
Before you know it, it's the girls waiting inside the classroom and not the other way around like in real life scenarios.
Strangely enough, this doesnt happen in other colleges in our university. You'd think it's a gay phenomenon but it's not. It's one of those things that you just can explain - like why other cars behind stopped cars in front of a red light keep on crawling towards the next car as though it's going to make the red light go green faster.
Here's another thought. Why do people keep on calling comfort rooms and lavatories "bathrooms"? Has anybody tried taking a bath inside one of those things? Horrible, I tell you. Comfort rooms shouldn't be bathrooms - period. Know the distinction, if just for the sake of basic sanitation.
To close this post, I have yet another pseudomystery to present. I haven't asked anybody from the opposite sex yet but this happens a lot to guys. When we take a leak, there's a moderate chance that we'll shiver involuntarily. Why does that happen?
*shiver* Please excuse me.
But noooo.
Why do they have to use the little girl's room in groups? Will urinating in groups make it easier? You're doing it sitting down, surrounded by four sides of the cubicle. How hard can that be? We do it standing, wary of another guy beside us who could be eyeing our package for more than just the sake of comparison, and all the while trying to avoid getting hit by stray "bullets" at the same time. Every visit to the CR is like a pageant where the biggest you-know-what wins, with a potential assassin lurking just 'round the corner. That's hard enough to be a movie plot.
Could it be that there's a bouncer inside every girl's lavatory that routinely checks its users? I can almost imagine it.
CR Bouncer: Excuse me miss, can I ask a few questions before you can use this CR?
Girl: Sure, make it quick.
CR Bouncer: Are you with anybody?
Girl: No.
CR Bouncer: Sorry ma'am, we have a minimum group bodycount here. You have to turn back.
Girl: *doomed to a wet-my-pants scenario*
Man, and I thought I'm already lucky as a guy!
Okay, okay, I'm not as ignorant as I sound. When girls go for the CR, it's like a conspiracy materializing. The female comfort room is like the War Room of the Pentagon. (How do I know? I have carefully implanted moles within your ranks! Wahahaha a double agent in your midst!)
That means, for all you uninitiated guys out there, if all girls in your table in a group gimik suddenly head for the CR, there's a good chance they're talking about you and the rest of the guys the same way you used to talk about trading basketball cards when you were younger - which one goes to who, the comparative value of each piece and which ones are "damaged" and should be used for bookmarks and bargain sales.
Now to be fair, if all the guys suddenly left the table and "headed for the cr" all of a sudden, that means you should get new dates - like more masculine ones, because real men hold it in till the last possible moment and a group of guys having to go at the same time had the same chances of seeing an anatomically correct banana.
That's just gay but dont worry, it wont happen that often Hopefully, never, because there will always be that one guy who stays because he likes to steal all the eggs when the roosters are gone. You will know him by the stare other guy friends give him everytime they have to go leave the table to get something (like something to kill that guy with).
It's very interesting to note though that there was once a study conducted in our university by sociologists about the unusually deviant behaviour of men located in our college (College of Computer Science) to routinely urinate in groups. In groups as in:
Guy #1: Ten minute break till the next subject. I think I'm gonna go to the boy's room.
Guy #2: Sama ako.
Guy #3: Pasabay na rin.
Before you know it, it's the girls waiting inside the classroom and not the other way around like in real life scenarios.
Strangely enough, this doesnt happen in other colleges in our university. You'd think it's a gay phenomenon but it's not. It's one of those things that you just can explain - like why other cars behind stopped cars in front of a red light keep on crawling towards the next car as though it's going to make the red light go green faster.
Here's another thought. Why do people keep on calling comfort rooms and lavatories "bathrooms"? Has anybody tried taking a bath inside one of those things? Horrible, I tell you. Comfort rooms shouldn't be bathrooms - period. Know the distinction, if just for the sake of basic sanitation.
To close this post, I have yet another pseudomystery to present. I haven't asked anybody from the opposite sex yet but this happens a lot to guys. When we take a leak, there's a moderate chance that we'll shiver involuntarily. Why does that happen?
*shiver* Please excuse me.
Jackass
Saturday, June 24, 2006
"Touch it."
"No. You touch it. It's yours."
"Is it your first time?"
Sweat drops formed along the contour of Jason's forehead. He couldn't look at Joanna eye-to-eye. "Well, I don't exactly know how to put it..."
Joanna laughed and grinned at him. "Ha! I knew it!"
Jason replied in a sour-toned voice "Call a presscon, why don't you?!"
True enough, it was indeed his first time. And it's not like he wanted it for himself. He had the blessings of his parents. As his parents had done it in the past, so must he. As the eldest son, so must he.
"Chill out, Jay. We'll do this step by step." Joanna winked as she took out the translucent sheathing for Jason's use. "Put this on. You don't want to get infected, do you?"
Jason sighed. It had to be done. He put it on with great disdain. As if doing 'it' wasn't hard enough, he had to do it while taking orders from an experienced woman. How humiliating, thought Jason.
Suddenly, Joanna grabbed back the rubbery fitting, much to Jason's shock. "You moron! How can you be so clumsy? You've ripped it!"
"I... I didn't know," said Jason in a stuttered voice.
"Well, you've put this predicament on yourself. You're just gonna have to go in without the covering."
The boy took one deep breath. Things have just gone from bad to worse.
"Now touch it. Slowly at first. Get the feel of it. Don't worry! It won't swallow your hand."
Jason nervously laid his hands on it. It felt wet and stick. And the stench was somewhat overwhelming.
"Can't we have cleaned it first at least?"
"Idiot it's supposed to be dirty down there. Always. That wasn't so bad now, was it?"
It wasn't really that bad. Just like touching a badly bruised, wet chico.
"Ok. Now, apply the lubricant so there won't be much internal lesions."
Jason got the a tube of the solution from Joanna. He squeezed it at the palm of his hands and quickly slapped it at the 'spot'.
"I SAID GENTLY, BOY!"
The young man gently rubbed the ointment at the surface. He couldn't believe what he was doing.
"Ok. That should be enough. By the way, is 'it' ready?"
The young man nodded.
"Now put it in, slowly."
Joanna put her hand on Jason's shoulderblade. "Don't worry. You're doing fine."
Jason was quite surprised. Joanna didn't sound a bit angry. Quite different from the ravenous mountain barbarian that she was a while ago. Hers was a calm voice, serene and confident. It was as if he hadn't commited all possible mistakes in the rulebook afterall! Her encouraging aura seeped into Jason.
It was time.
Jason put it in with one deep thrust.
Moaning filled the entire room. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Jason tried to take his mind off what he was doing. He tried to picture doing something else. Like fishing in a pond. Or chopping wood. Or planting rice. Or pounding their chaffs off with a mortar.
Joanna touched Jason's cheek. "You're doing fine. Don't worry. Now push it in, all the way."
The path was narrow so the young man had to force his way in. He then felt that he was 'in'.
"Shall I release it?" asked he.
Joanna smiled. "Sure."
As Jason let go of his load, he felt good. So good. The deed was done and he had done something that he would have never imagined doing. At least not with anybody other than her.
"Ok, take it slowly out."
As commanded, Jason pulled it out. The nauseating stench nearly caused him to collapse.
"Wash your hands and don't forget to feed the animal after. His life is safe now, thanks to you. Haciendero Jason."
"Why the hell do we have to use suppository capsules?!"
The woman laughed out loud. Jason had finally learned how to give medicine to sick farm animals.
Giving the jackass a dose of its medicine is a hard job.
A hard job indeed.
"No. You touch it. It's yours."
"Is it your first time?"
Sweat drops formed along the contour of Jason's forehead. He couldn't look at Joanna eye-to-eye. "Well, I don't exactly know how to put it..."
Joanna laughed and grinned at him. "Ha! I knew it!"
Jason replied in a sour-toned voice "Call a presscon, why don't you?!"
True enough, it was indeed his first time. And it's not like he wanted it for himself. He had the blessings of his parents. As his parents had done it in the past, so must he. As the eldest son, so must he.
"Chill out, Jay. We'll do this step by step." Joanna winked as she took out the translucent sheathing for Jason's use. "Put this on. You don't want to get infected, do you?"
Jason sighed. It had to be done. He put it on with great disdain. As if doing 'it' wasn't hard enough, he had to do it while taking orders from an experienced woman. How humiliating, thought Jason.
Suddenly, Joanna grabbed back the rubbery fitting, much to Jason's shock. "You moron! How can you be so clumsy? You've ripped it!"
"I... I didn't know," said Jason in a stuttered voice.
"Well, you've put this predicament on yourself. You're just gonna have to go in without the covering."
The boy took one deep breath. Things have just gone from bad to worse.
"Now touch it. Slowly at first. Get the feel of it. Don't worry! It won't swallow your hand."
Jason nervously laid his hands on it. It felt wet and stick. And the stench was somewhat overwhelming.
"Can't we have cleaned it first at least?"
"Idiot it's supposed to be dirty down there. Always. That wasn't so bad now, was it?"
It wasn't really that bad. Just like touching a badly bruised, wet chico.
"Ok. Now, apply the lubricant so there won't be much internal lesions."
Jason got the a tube of the solution from Joanna. He squeezed it at the palm of his hands and quickly slapped it at the 'spot'.
"I SAID GENTLY, BOY!"
The young man gently rubbed the ointment at the surface. He couldn't believe what he was doing.
"Ok. That should be enough. By the way, is 'it' ready?"
The young man nodded.
"Now put it in, slowly."
Joanna put her hand on Jason's shoulderblade. "Don't worry. You're doing fine."
Jason was quite surprised. Joanna didn't sound a bit angry. Quite different from the ravenous mountain barbarian that she was a while ago. Hers was a calm voice, serene and confident. It was as if he hadn't commited all possible mistakes in the rulebook afterall! Her encouraging aura seeped into Jason.
It was time.
Jason put it in with one deep thrust.
Moaning filled the entire room. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Jason tried to take his mind off what he was doing. He tried to picture doing something else. Like fishing in a pond. Or chopping wood. Or planting rice. Or pounding their chaffs off with a mortar.
Joanna touched Jason's cheek. "You're doing fine. Don't worry. Now push it in, all the way."
The path was narrow so the young man had to force his way in. He then felt that he was 'in'.
"Shall I release it?" asked he.
Joanna smiled. "Sure."
As Jason let go of his load, he felt good. So good. The deed was done and he had done something that he would have never imagined doing. At least not with anybody other than her.
"Ok, take it slowly out."
As commanded, Jason pulled it out. The nauseating stench nearly caused him to collapse.
"Wash your hands and don't forget to feed the animal after. His life is safe now, thanks to you. Haciendero Jason."
"Why the hell do we have to use suppository capsules?!"
The woman laughed out loud. Jason had finally learned how to give medicine to sick farm animals.
Giving the jackass a dose of its medicine is a hard job.
A hard job indeed.
The Trainman
Friday, June 23, 2006
The first time I saw him, I really didnt give too much damn. Sure, it was unusual for somebody to wear barong inside an often crowded MRT train at the other side of the tracks and sure, the icy-cold stare from his glazed, seasoned eyes was attention-grabbing when they catch your sight with frozen meathooks but hey, I've seen worse.
But when the same thing starts happening over and over and over again, it will get you thinking. And that's when it all started, our little game - me and that old man on the other train. It's always the other train.
The other friggin' train.
Whenever I rode the MRT to work and the train would stop in a station with another train stopped, he was always standing at the absolute opposite of my position in the train. Once, it happens; Twice, coincidence; Thrice - thrice was just too much and all other instances that followed slowly skewered me with insanity. I really didnt know how he do it but I always caught his stare. I couldnt avoid seeing his long bony face or his receding hairline and the thinning white crescent crown he had as a top - not once in three months.
And if something happens to you for three months straight - you really will start thinking really hard. After the first week of our 'contact', I started trying to avoid him, positioning myself on different sides of the train. Some how though, he always managed to match my positioning - like an endless game of patintero with a brick wall.
This morning I saw him again. Standing among the people as always, ending up directly in front of me again, and bearing the sempiternal frozen gaze. I was growing tired of his games so I finally let somebody else join our little spiel 'a silence.
I nudged friend and said, "Look at that idiot in the drab barong from the other train. I always see him staring at me for almost every day. What an idiot, aye?"
But the old man was a step ahead. My friend looked where I was pointing. Other passengers who heard my rather outspoken comment stole a glance too. I looked around and all I got were shrugs and raised eyebrows. It was almost as if he wasnt there anymore.
I was surprised at their faces. I looked again but there he was - doing what I havent seen before. He smiled a crooked smile, a victorious smile. He was mocking me in the game that I cant win, cant lose and cant even quit from.
The train started moving again. Fists clenched, I looked for him amonst the faceless passenger but time has washed him away from my scrutinizing eyes yet once more.
He only exists when he wants to. I only see him when he lets me. He watches, I know he does - always.
He's the trainman that only I can see.
But then again, maybe you see him too.
---------------------------------------------------------
(First posted in a mailinglist 1 year ago as an entry for quickfics.)
But when the same thing starts happening over and over and over again, it will get you thinking. And that's when it all started, our little game - me and that old man on the other train. It's always the other train.
The other friggin' train.
Whenever I rode the MRT to work and the train would stop in a station with another train stopped, he was always standing at the absolute opposite of my position in the train. Once, it happens; Twice, coincidence; Thrice - thrice was just too much and all other instances that followed slowly skewered me with insanity. I really didnt know how he do it but I always caught his stare. I couldnt avoid seeing his long bony face or his receding hairline and the thinning white crescent crown he had as a top - not once in three months.
And if something happens to you for three months straight - you really will start thinking really hard. After the first week of our 'contact', I started trying to avoid him, positioning myself on different sides of the train. Some how though, he always managed to match my positioning - like an endless game of patintero with a brick wall.
This morning I saw him again. Standing among the people as always, ending up directly in front of me again, and bearing the sempiternal frozen gaze. I was growing tired of his games so I finally let somebody else join our little spiel 'a silence.
I nudged friend and said, "Look at that idiot in the drab barong from the other train. I always see him staring at me for almost every day. What an idiot, aye?"
But the old man was a step ahead. My friend looked where I was pointing. Other passengers who heard my rather outspoken comment stole a glance too. I looked around and all I got were shrugs and raised eyebrows. It was almost as if he wasnt there anymore.
I was surprised at their faces. I looked again but there he was - doing what I havent seen before. He smiled a crooked smile, a victorious smile. He was mocking me in the game that I cant win, cant lose and cant even quit from.
The train started moving again. Fists clenched, I looked for him amonst the faceless passenger but time has washed him away from my scrutinizing eyes yet once more.
He only exists when he wants to. I only see him when he lets me. He watches, I know he does - always.
He's the trainman that only I can see.
But then again, maybe you see him too.
---------------------------------------------------------
(First posted in a mailinglist 1 year ago as an entry for quickfics.)
An Expat's Paradox
Thursday, June 22, 2006
So I was talking to a expatriated friend from college a while ago and the conversation went like this:
Jet: What can be more filipinizing than taking a bath in front of a poso*?
Bryce: Eating balut** with taho***.
Jet: [stumped]
Balut with taho. Now that's a paradox. How do you eat something that's only available during the day with something that's only available at night? Buy taho and there's no more balut around. Buy balut and there's no more taho around. Chances are the very people who sell taho in the morning are the same people who sell balut at night.
Now to see the real essence of this, you shouldn't take into consideration making your own or going to the commercialized restaurants that serve these delicacies. Like if you need to get it from a genuine vendor, how do you do it?
This sounds a bit similar to the Buddhist riddle "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" kind of question, except more mundane and well, rustic. So here's what I think about the whole issue in a novel kind of way:
Storywise, I can imagine an old hermit telling the very riddle to an adventurer and present him with the supposed solution: To eat balut with taho at the same time, you must find the point of intersection of dusk and dawn. And it shouldn't be at just some place. It has to be in the Philippines to make sure both delicacies exist at the same place.
So the Prince journeys to find where this place is and fails. But then he realizes that the place where dusk and dawn meet can be seen through enlightenment. So he becomes a buddhist and attains bodhisatva and then finally eats what he wants and becomes the ruler of the universe.
Either that or he tries to work around the problem by buying taho in the morning and waiting for the magbabalut in the evening, only to die from food poisoning several hours after consuming the stale taho.
So how do you eat taho and balut at the same time?
My answer would be you just don't. Time is nature's way of making sure everything doesn't happen at once.
*becomes ruler of the universe*
Okay so that didnt make sense. Anybody with a better answer? Best answer gets a cookie.
---------------------------
(Internationalization notes)
*Poso - An iron manual water pump tapped to a deep well used mostly in deurbanized and rural areas.
**Balut - Salted fullshell egg delicacy with a duck fetus swimming in salty juices inside usually sold by vendors at night.
*** Taho - Hot soya drink with sugarcane syrup usually sold by vendors from dawn till before lunch.
Jet: What can be more filipinizing than taking a bath in front of a poso*?
Bryce: Eating balut** with taho***.
Jet: [stumped]
Balut with taho. Now that's a paradox. How do you eat something that's only available during the day with something that's only available at night? Buy taho and there's no more balut around. Buy balut and there's no more taho around. Chances are the very people who sell taho in the morning are the same people who sell balut at night.
Now to see the real essence of this, you shouldn't take into consideration making your own or going to the commercialized restaurants that serve these delicacies. Like if you need to get it from a genuine vendor, how do you do it?
This sounds a bit similar to the Buddhist riddle "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" kind of question, except more mundane and well, rustic. So here's what I think about the whole issue in a novel kind of way:
Storywise, I can imagine an old hermit telling the very riddle to an adventurer and present him with the supposed solution: To eat balut with taho at the same time, you must find the point of intersection of dusk and dawn. And it shouldn't be at just some place. It has to be in the Philippines to make sure both delicacies exist at the same place.
So the Prince journeys to find where this place is and fails. But then he realizes that the place where dusk and dawn meet can be seen through enlightenment. So he becomes a buddhist and attains bodhisatva and then finally eats what he wants and becomes the ruler of the universe.
Either that or he tries to work around the problem by buying taho in the morning and waiting for the magbabalut in the evening, only to die from food poisoning several hours after consuming the stale taho.
So how do you eat taho and balut at the same time?
My answer would be you just don't. Time is nature's way of making sure everything doesn't happen at once.
*becomes ruler of the universe*
Okay so that didnt make sense. Anybody with a better answer? Best answer gets a cookie.
---------------------------
(Internationalization notes)
*Poso - An iron manual water pump tapped to a deep well used mostly in deurbanized and rural areas.
**Balut - Salted fullshell egg delicacy with a duck fetus swimming in salty juices inside usually sold by vendors at night.
*** Taho - Hot soya drink with sugarcane syrup usually sold by vendors from dawn till before lunch.
Airplanes and Cellphones Redux
Last night, a friend of mine and I had a chat regarding the previous article. As it turns out, I'm not really alone in my woes, well, not really woes, just risk-loaded annoyances. So here's how the little conversation went (emoticons and typos from my side edited out for the sake of readability)
Mai: I kinda emphatize with your latest post in your blog
Jet: airplanes?
Mai: yeah. and I have a phobia riding them too
Jet: o? that i didnt know
Mai: it really freaked me out, seeing my seatmate sending an smsm while we were in the freaking final approach o.x
Jet: makes you want to kill people eh
Jet: it's for the good of the rest of the passengers
Mai: I don;t just turn off my celphone, I even take out the battery (fear of accidntally turning it on) XD
Mai: yeah
Mai: made me laugh about the bit where a passenger hid his celphone? hahaha
Jet: why do people do that?
Jet: and it's not like you can scold him about it
Jet: because hey, you'll get the call of nature later and he'll be in your way
Jet: so you better not piss him off
Mai: i have no effing idea. but you're right, it may be because they think they're riding a bus
Mai: they should re-write their intercom message
Mai: "TURN OFF YOUR CELLPHONE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO DIE" *beep*
Jet: yeah that one delivers the message better
Mai: XD
Jet: then a short demonstration with a toy plane
Jet: and how it will fall into the ground like an f'ing dart if they keep using their phones
Mai: XD it's as bad as playing a plane crash movie as an in-flight film
Jet: scared is good.
Mai: I forgot the title but that one almost made me want to hurl
Jet: i dont know why but everytime im scheduled to leave the country i keep on seeing those
kinds of shows on cable
Jet: "Air Crash Investigators"
Jet: "Final Destination"
Jet: >.<
Mai: yeah, and that happens to me too. only in print, though. Like the time I bought a Readers Digest to kill time, and there was an alarming article on plane crashes >.>
Jet: lol that's one way of killing time
Jet: one time i was talking to my friend on the way to hk and along the conversation we got to talk about how seatbelts are the most useless things on the plane
Jet: because nobody suriving a planecrash ever mentions being alive thanks to the friggin belt
Jet: and then the stewardess comes to me and gives me the evil stare-down
Mai: hey, it's still useful. There was news of a plane from Japan that suffered really bad turbulence, which shook the plane so bad it killed two, but it still landed safely.
Mai: it's rare, but it made me cling to hope that even if I suffer bad turbulence we may still land safely.
Jet: those two people were probably in the lavatories and drowned in their own mess.
Mai: haha
Jet: that's another shameful way to die.
Jet: san pedro: so how did you die?
Jet: guy: airplane
Jet: san pedro: how come there's only two of you? private plane?
Jet: guy: no
Jet: san pedro: havent heard of commercial liners crashing lately
Jet: guy: it wasnt a crash
Jet: san pedro: what was it then?
Jet: guy: turbulence
Jet: san pedro: *pulls trapdoor lever to hell* no room for comedy in this place.
Mai: XD
Mai: on cellphone related crashes, at least you get to lynch the fool. if incorporeal bodies still hurt.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The next time your plane to Hong Kong lands in Kuala Lumpur or worse, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, kindly unbuckle your seatbelt, put on your lifevest and kick the bejesus out of your cellphone-using seatmate.
Mai: I kinda emphatize with your latest post in your blog
Jet: airplanes?
Mai: yeah. and I have a phobia riding them too
Jet: o? that i didnt know
Mai: it really freaked me out, seeing my seatmate sending an smsm while we were in the freaking final approach o.x
Jet: makes you want to kill people eh
Jet: it's for the good of the rest of the passengers
Mai: I don;t just turn off my celphone, I even take out the battery (fear of accidntally turning it on) XD
Mai: yeah
Mai: made me laugh about the bit where a passenger hid his celphone? hahaha
Jet: why do people do that?
Jet: and it's not like you can scold him about it
Jet: because hey, you'll get the call of nature later and he'll be in your way
Jet: so you better not piss him off
Mai: i have no effing idea. but you're right, it may be because they think they're riding a bus
Mai: they should re-write their intercom message
Mai: "TURN OFF YOUR CELLPHONE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO DIE" *beep*
Jet: yeah that one delivers the message better
Mai: XD
Jet: then a short demonstration with a toy plane
Jet: and how it will fall into the ground like an f'ing dart if they keep using their phones
Mai: XD it's as bad as playing a plane crash movie as an in-flight film
Jet: scared is good.
Mai: I forgot the title but that one almost made me want to hurl
Jet: i dont know why but everytime im scheduled to leave the country i keep on seeing those
kinds of shows on cable
Jet: "Air Crash Investigators"
Jet: "Final Destination"
Jet: >.<
Mai: yeah, and that happens to me too. only in print, though. Like the time I bought a Readers Digest to kill time, and there was an alarming article on plane crashes >.>
Jet: lol that's one way of killing time
Jet: one time i was talking to my friend on the way to hk and along the conversation we got to talk about how seatbelts are the most useless things on the plane
Jet: because nobody suriving a planecrash ever mentions being alive thanks to the friggin belt
Jet: and then the stewardess comes to me and gives me the evil stare-down
Mai: hey, it's still useful. There was news of a plane from Japan that suffered really bad turbulence, which shook the plane so bad it killed two, but it still landed safely.
Mai: it's rare, but it made me cling to hope that even if I suffer bad turbulence we may still land safely.
Jet: those two people were probably in the lavatories and drowned in their own mess.
Mai: haha
Jet: that's another shameful way to die.
Jet: san pedro: so how did you die?
Jet: guy: airplane
Jet: san pedro: how come there's only two of you? private plane?
Jet: guy: no
Jet: san pedro: havent heard of commercial liners crashing lately
Jet: guy: it wasnt a crash
Jet: san pedro: what was it then?
Jet: guy: turbulence
Jet: san pedro: *pulls trapdoor lever to hell* no room for comedy in this place.
Mai: XD
Mai: on cellphone related crashes, at least you get to lynch the fool. if incorporeal bodies still hurt.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The next time your plane to Hong Kong lands in Kuala Lumpur or worse, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, kindly unbuckle your seatbelt, put on your lifevest and kick the bejesus out of your cellphone-using seatmate.
Airplanes and Cellphones
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Talking on cellphones or using laptops on an airplane could disrupt cockpit operations, especially global positioning devices that are increasingly being used to help land planes safely.Please switch off all electronic devices for the duration of the flight.
I'm sure you've heard of this line at least once if ever you've boarded an international flight. Since I don't ferquent local flights because I believe only boats should be using propellers to move around in this day and age, I'll just assume they say that too occassionally.
Anyway, what the flight crew message is trying to say is plain and simple:
TURN THAT SHIT OFF IF YOU DONT WANT TO DIE.
Apparently, there are still people who dont understand the very simple precept of following instructions so as to not die. I bet that these are the very same owners of phones that go off inside churches, theaters, funerals and the like.
Now I'm not really for homicide but when stupid people are doing things that will knowledgeably kill them, I say we just let nature run its course. In nature it's not the smart gazelle or the strong gazelle or the gazelle who knows how to smooth talk his way out of things that gets eaten. It's the gazel that says "Do I owe that lion something? He's coming toward me awfully fast..." - the stupid gazelle. It's evolutions way of sorting the chaff out of the wheat.
But of course there are exceptions.
If a stupid person will kill himself but in the course of doing so wipe out 367 other passengers who have a decent common sense to turn their phones off - the same people who in the future couldpossibly increase the IQ per capita of this planet by copulation, that shouldnt happen. The death is not worth it. It'll be bad for everybody, except the stupid guy of course, who shouldn't care any more than we do.
One time, I saw a guy seated beside me did not actually stop using his phone after hearing the message. Instead, he hid it under his coat. It got me thinking. Which part of "SWITCH YOUR PHONE OFF FOR THE ENTIRE DURATION OF THE FLIGHT" could have suggested that he should hide its usage instead? Did he think that maybe if he put it under his coat the radiowaves will not hit the aircraft instrumentation?
I was thinking, if this plane crashes because of his insistence and I go meet up with him and the other plane crash victims in the gates of heaven, I'll make sure he gets all the talktime he needs - with Satan as his phonebuddy.
I bet it would be really embarassing to relate to your ancestors when you meet up with them and explain why you're with them instead of living the rest of your life on earth. You'd be saying "See, there was this asshole seated beside me during the flight who..." Not good for an afterlife topic. You'll be the Cloud Nine nobody in no time with that sort of death story.
WHY DO PEOPLE NEED TO TALK ON PLANES ANYWAY? Whatever you need to say, you could have say during the wait inside the terminal. Could it be that they're just too mentally incapacitated to know where the powerswitch of their phones are? But then again, if they cant even do just that, how do they manage how to breathe?
Lay of Idiodynamics: Stupidity is constant regardless of altitude and speed of the subject exhibiting the property.
Of course we've yet to hear an inicident of a plane crashing because of a phone but we also havent heard of a man dying because he choked after swallowing a remote control - we havent heard of it yet and it hasnt happened yet but that's no reason for us to push the limits and see if it can be done, right?
I'm sure you've heard of this line at least once if ever you've boarded an international flight. Since I don't ferquent local flights because I believe only boats should be using propellers to move around in this day and age, I'll just assume they say that too occassionally.
Anyway, what the flight crew message is trying to say is plain and simple:
TURN THAT SHIT OFF IF YOU DONT WANT TO DIE.
Apparently, there are still people who dont understand the very simple precept of following instructions so as to not die. I bet that these are the very same owners of phones that go off inside churches, theaters, funerals and the like.
Now I'm not really for homicide but when stupid people are doing things that will knowledgeably kill them, I say we just let nature run its course. In nature it's not the smart gazelle or the strong gazelle or the gazelle who knows how to smooth talk his way out of things that gets eaten. It's the gazel that says "Do I owe that lion something? He's coming toward me awfully fast..." - the stupid gazelle. It's evolutions way of sorting the chaff out of the wheat.But of course there are exceptions.
If a stupid person will kill himself but in the course of doing so wipe out 367 other passengers who have a decent common sense to turn their phones off - the same people who in the future couldpossibly increase the IQ per capita of this planet by copulation, that shouldnt happen. The death is not worth it. It'll be bad for everybody, except the stupid guy of course, who shouldn't care any more than we do.
One time, I saw a guy seated beside me did not actually stop using his phone after hearing the message. Instead, he hid it under his coat. It got me thinking. Which part of "SWITCH YOUR PHONE OFF FOR THE ENTIRE DURATION OF THE FLIGHT" could have suggested that he should hide its usage instead? Did he think that maybe if he put it under his coat the radiowaves will not hit the aircraft instrumentation?
I was thinking, if this plane crashes because of his insistence and I go meet up with him and the other plane crash victims in the gates of heaven, I'll make sure he gets all the talktime he needs - with Satan as his phonebuddy.
I bet it would be really embarassing to relate to your ancestors when you meet up with them and explain why you're with them instead of living the rest of your life on earth. You'd be saying "See, there was this asshole seated beside me during the flight who..." Not good for an afterlife topic. You'll be the Cloud Nine nobody in no time with that sort of death story.
WHY DO PEOPLE NEED TO TALK ON PLANES ANYWAY? Whatever you need to say, you could have say during the wait inside the terminal. Could it be that they're just too mentally incapacitated to know where the powerswitch of their phones are? But then again, if they cant even do just that, how do they manage how to breathe?
Lay of Idiodynamics: Stupidity is constant regardless of altitude and speed of the subject exhibiting the property.
Of course we've yet to hear an inicident of a plane crashing because of a phone but we also havent heard of a man dying because he choked after swallowing a remote control - we havent heard of it yet and it hasnt happened yet but that's no reason for us to push the limits and see if it can be done, right?
If That's Not The Case, Take Me For Me
Monday, June 19, 2006
I'll be your prince charming, I'll be your fairytale
I'll be the northfolk spirit giving wind to your sail
I'll be your spider web, keep you swinging all night
I'll be your green lantern, in darkness, be the light
I'll be your kryptonite. How I'd lull you to your sleep.
I'll be the the batcave, hide and take you to your keep.
I'll be Adamantium Claws, and make sure you get your slice
I'll be that happy ending, the ending where nobody dies
I'll be the ever after, and you'll be living through me.
The lighthouse that forever guides, and calms the wild sea.
Because this is our story and I shall hold pen and paper
I'll be a living Jedi, protect you from imaginary Vader
I'll live up to the legend, I'll be how to you I may seem
I'll be all those things, if lies can fill your dreams.
(A song I made just now, inspired by uhm, the toycon I attended just last weekend and the frustrations of real life and fantasy. Will put the chords later if I have the time,so for now it's just a poem..)
I'll be the northfolk spirit giving wind to your sail
I'll be your spider web, keep you swinging all night
I'll be your green lantern, in darkness, be the light
I'll be your kryptonite. How I'd lull you to your sleep.
I'll be the the batcave, hide and take you to your keep.
I'll be Adamantium Claws, and make sure you get your slice
I'll be that happy ending, the ending where nobody dies
I'll be the ever after, and you'll be living through me.
The lighthouse that forever guides, and calms the wild sea.
Because this is our story and I shall hold pen and paper
I'll be a living Jedi, protect you from imaginary Vader
I'll live up to the legend, I'll be how to you I may seem
I'll be all those things, if lies can fill your dreams.
(A song I made just now, inspired by uhm, the toycon I attended just last weekend and the frustrations of real life and fantasy. Will put the chords later if I have the time,so for now it's just a poem..)
School Sections
Nowadays most schools in the country opt for heterogenous sectioning. That means aside from an optional "best" section where they keep the deviant overachievers and those most unlikely to get laid, the rest are spread out randomly into the rest of the blocks/classes/sections/whatever-they-want-to-call-a-group-of-students-in-a-room.
Most of them anyway, but not all.
From what I remember, the school where I spent my gradeschool and highschool in still maintains the same rank system they first implemented a hundred years ago. In the ranking system, the top fifty students get section A and the last fifty get the last section available. The school wont tell you your exact seeding in the batch, but you can get an idea from the letter of the section you have.
What does that mean? That means if you have a letter that's D or lower, you know there's a good chance there'll be a lot of mentions of "minimum wage" and "union strike" in your future.
Of course parents of the lower sections finally got tired of being asked why D is called D so they moved that this cruel system should be abolished. But then again, there are those parents in the A-B rankings that want the system maintained, because, well, there's this premise that stupidity is infectious and that you shouldn't be mixing good apples with good ones.
So the school administration reached a compromise. They changed the section labels from letters to, well, virtues, but retained the ranking system. How do I know? My classmates from the previous year were still my classmates and the room positions didn't change much (i.e. all classrooms are still arranged from A-G from the previous year)
Most astonishing is the way they named the class sections. For the best sections they gave them names like "Humility" "Courage" "Fortitude" and "Generosity". For the lower sections they gave the names "Faith", "Obedience", and funniest of all, "HOPE". Are they trying to keep the spirits of the despirited up with these words?
I can imagine a teacher speaking in front of class section Hope,
"You have two failing grades, six lines of seven grades. Your general average is enough to make the Philippine GNP look like an economic miracle, and you have a conduct rating suitable for a gang member in prison. Demographics says that in three years time you will be knocking on my door asking if I have excess bottles and newspapers. That or I'll find you mugging somebody outside for chump change. But don't worry, take heed from your section name, HOPE. Because that's all you have."
What the hell. It's not just that, the last section of fourth year highschool is named "WISDOM". Sure knowledge and wisdom are different but wisdom isn't really what will get these kids into college will it?
College Admissions guy #1: So what do we have here?
College Admissions guy #2: A guy with a lot of failing grades.
College Admissions guy #1: Shall we give him the thin envelope of rejection and shaming?
College Admissions guy #2: Uhhm, wait. Check the name of his section out.
College Admissions guy #1: IV-Wisdom eh? To have that section the guy must be smart.
College Admissions guy #2: Yeah. *sarcasms*
College Admissions guy #1: FAIL.
And since when has these section names really done anything to inspire people? Schools name their sections after Flowers, Trees, Fruits, Saints, Virtues. What the hell. Nobody cares about those anymore. It maybe only me thinking but sometime in the future, there will be sections of some obscure school being named after CANNED GOODS. How about it? IV-SPAM, III-LIGO, I-MALING and best of all II-MOBY HOTDOG. BOOM! Who wouldn't want to be in _that_ section? Just kidding. Snore.
Why not give the students the section names that they want? Names they can look up to? Like instead of names of Saints that kids rarely check out, give them names from super Heroes. Like SUPERMAN? He's got the virtues, he's got the skillz and he happens to be EMPLOYED, not like some saints I know. Spawn, Hellsing, Kenshin - you name it.
The list of possible sources is almost infinite. I mean, if you were a student, what would you rather have as a section to represent you, III-Avocado or III-Metallica? Metallica pwnz Avocado 50-0. The 2nd grade students from our school have sections named after angels. The last section's name is Uriel, though nobody recognizes it, it's the name of the Angel of Death who brought down the death of every first born in Egypt. Tit awesome. We should have more of those sections.
Why stop there? Why not name the classes after NBA Baskteball teams? That we we have something to cheer on during the season, and making up jersey's wont be as hard.
The reason why school doesn't work as well as it should is that the people running it should stop thinking like uppity adults for once and start learning from the kid's they're teaching a bit. You know, to learn a bit more from them instead of teaching them useless shit like how many times Elias got shot during the closing moments of Noli Me Tangere. In case you're wondering, here's the answer to that: NOBODY CARES!
Put the Fun back in Functional!
I18n Notes:
Sections are groupings of students in gradeschool, highschool in a batch.
Most of them anyway, but not all.
From what I remember, the school where I spent my gradeschool and highschool in still maintains the same rank system they first implemented a hundred years ago. In the ranking system, the top fifty students get section A and the last fifty get the last section available. The school wont tell you your exact seeding in the batch, but you can get an idea from the letter of the section you have.
What does that mean? That means if you have a letter that's D or lower, you know there's a good chance there'll be a lot of mentions of "minimum wage" and "union strike" in your future.
Of course parents of the lower sections finally got tired of being asked why D is called D so they moved that this cruel system should be abolished. But then again, there are those parents in the A-B rankings that want the system maintained, because, well, there's this premise that stupidity is infectious and that you shouldn't be mixing good apples with good ones.
So the school administration reached a compromise. They changed the section labels from letters to, well, virtues, but retained the ranking system. How do I know? My classmates from the previous year were still my classmates and the room positions didn't change much (i.e. all classrooms are still arranged from A-G from the previous year)
Most astonishing is the way they named the class sections. For the best sections they gave them names like "Humility" "Courage" "Fortitude" and "Generosity". For the lower sections they gave the names "Faith", "Obedience", and funniest of all, "HOPE". Are they trying to keep the spirits of the despirited up with these words?
I can imagine a teacher speaking in front of class section Hope,
"You have two failing grades, six lines of seven grades. Your general average is enough to make the Philippine GNP look like an economic miracle, and you have a conduct rating suitable for a gang member in prison. Demographics says that in three years time you will be knocking on my door asking if I have excess bottles and newspapers. That or I'll find you mugging somebody outside for chump change. But don't worry, take heed from your section name, HOPE. Because that's all you have."
What the hell. It's not just that, the last section of fourth year highschool is named "WISDOM". Sure knowledge and wisdom are different but wisdom isn't really what will get these kids into college will it?
College Admissions guy #1: So what do we have here?
College Admissions guy #2: A guy with a lot of failing grades.
College Admissions guy #1: Shall we give him the thin envelope of rejection and shaming?
College Admissions guy #2: Uhhm, wait. Check the name of his section out.
College Admissions guy #1: IV-Wisdom eh? To have that section the guy must be smart.
College Admissions guy #2: Yeah. *sarcasms*
College Admissions guy #1: FAIL.
And since when has these section names really done anything to inspire people? Schools name their sections after Flowers, Trees, Fruits, Saints, Virtues. What the hell. Nobody cares about those anymore. It maybe only me thinking but sometime in the future, there will be sections of some obscure school being named after CANNED GOODS. How about it? IV-SPAM, III-LIGO, I-MALING and best of all II-MOBY HOTDOG. BOOM! Who wouldn't want to be in _that_ section? Just kidding. Snore.
Why not give the students the section names that they want? Names they can look up to? Like instead of names of Saints that kids rarely check out, give them names from super Heroes. Like SUPERMAN? He's got the virtues, he's got the skillz and he happens to be EMPLOYED, not like some saints I know. Spawn, Hellsing, Kenshin - you name it.
The list of possible sources is almost infinite. I mean, if you were a student, what would you rather have as a section to represent you, III-Avocado or III-Metallica? Metallica pwnz Avocado 50-0. The 2nd grade students from our school have sections named after angels. The last section's name is Uriel, though nobody recognizes it, it's the name of the Angel of Death who brought down the death of every first born in Egypt. Tit awesome. We should have more of those sections.
Why stop there? Why not name the classes after NBA Baskteball teams? That we we have something to cheer on during the season, and making up jersey's wont be as hard.
The reason why school doesn't work as well as it should is that the people running it should stop thinking like uppity adults for once and start learning from the kid's they're teaching a bit. You know, to learn a bit more from them instead of teaching them useless shit like how many times Elias got shot during the closing moments of Noli Me Tangere. In case you're wondering, here's the answer to that: NOBODY CARES!
Put the Fun back in Functional!
I18n Notes:
Sections are groupings of students in gradeschool, highschool in a batch.
The Nazarene Cross
Sunday, June 18, 2006
I believe in the Nazarene Cross.The Nazarene Cross is not the cross of salvation.
It is the cross of suffering, aimed not to save anyone who believes in it but instead symbolizes the help to others done by those who live by its principles.
It is a cross that is black - the absence of color, for it recognizes no color, ethnicity, race.
It is a cross with no intricacies - its premise is not based on materiosity and worldiness.
It has no INRI on top for it needs not be known.
It has no sacrosanct personality in the middle, spreading out fo rthe world to see holy wounds for it is empty, until you decide to fill the void with your own.
It is a cross that cannot be found in the great stone churches, nor in the facade of any icon for it has no religion. It is the cross that is found in the shadows left by the great towering crosses under the sunlight. It does not look down from spires but instead serve as footprints on the ground.
It is the good Samaritan's cross.
The Nazarene cross. The cross that does not do miracles. It is not the cure but the burden we take on for others. It will not take you up to calvary, for you shall carry it on the way to your goal.
For in believing Jesus did not want us to worship him, but be like him, in word, deeds and life. He does not want us to be at the foot of the cross by his teachings.
He wants us in the cross with him - not as a condition of sacrifice for eternal life rewarded, but as a reward in itself, in it's joy in selflessness.
That's how I see the cross. what is it to you?
Back in 2002 a friend gave me a neclace with a black cross with a black host in its centre. She gave no explanation as to what it is for, in wearing it and reflecting in it, I gave it its own meaning. I've come to call it the Nazarene Cross, for its color is black, like the Nazareno statue of a blackened Jesus bearing the cross.
Bottled Water
Friday, June 16, 2006
Bottled Water
So what's in a bottle of water? It's funny how they always put those nutritional facts table at the back of those things and say it's 100% pure water. I'm not sure if I got my sciences right but as far as I know, water doesn't have any nutritional value. It's just water, period. Why should I be surprise if the same idiots who placed those nutritional facts there start placing Expiry Dates on the bottle caps? What's next, instruction manuals for spoons?
And whoever gave out the idea that the recommended dosage of water is 8 glasses? Where did that number come from? I dont know about you but as a kid I had to go through water torture to gulp down that many glasses to get my daily allowance of water. It doesnt taste like anything and I'm not thirsty but I have to drink anyway? What the hell. Shouldn't my body tell me when I'm not getting enough water?
Anyway, thanks to modern science we now have more variations of water than we have gender types (though the latter is catching up quite quickly) so drinking water aint such a boring activity anymore. Now you get to have carbonized water, ionized/sports water, electrolyte water, soda water, distilled water and mineral water. And here's the deal: They have the same ink-waste nutrition facts table that have more zeroes than our president's Gross Income. Doesn't that mean they're still the same stuff that's made of one oxygen units and two hydrogen units? But whatever happened to just plain water? You know, like the type our ancestors started drinking some 3000 years before.
Can somebody tell me why we need mineral water? Its bottlers give us the shitburger of a lie that it gives the body much of the minerals that we need. Okay, we need minerals, true. But here's a fact that they leave out: minerals from water is not same as minerals that we can get from vegetables and fruits and meat. There's such a thing as organic minerals and salt minerals. Organic minerals come from living things and are much more easily absorbed by the body. Salt minerals, on the other hand, are immediately rejected by the body due to it's natural complexity and are moved out as piss. Mineral water is filled with this so called salt minerals. If you remember your highschool biology class well enough, too much of these salts can put pressure on your kidneystones and make you even unhealthier. Yahoo.
The basic purpose of water both externally and internally is to clean the body, period. There's no need to make it fancy and give it other functions. No need to add stuff to it to say it's healthier. And no, giving it flavour does not make it any "funner" or "purer" for that matter. If you really want flavoured water, get juice.
Speaking of flavoured water, what the hell is up with that C2 drink? It tastes like piss and sugar. Not that I've tasted piss before but I just cant think of any liquid I've tasted before that might taste close to it. And they say it's healthy too. Idiots, since when has anything with that much sugar become healthy? This just goes to show that people are just trendwhores who base taste on zero I.Q., lemming-like behaviour. They should change their slogan to something more truthful: "Six different tastes, one distinct flavour: BULLSHIT." or maybe "C2: Because You Like Paying For Sugarwater".
And who would have thought twenty years ago that we would be drinking water from bottles at a price that makes it more expensive than gasoline?
Kona Nigari is a seawater mineral concentrate you mix with regular water. You can buy some at the Key of Life store in the Royal Hawaiian Shopping Center in Honolulu. It comes from 2,000 feet down off the coast of Hawaii, and it's bottled by Hawaii Deep Marine.
Koyo's currently shipping 80,000 bottles a DAY to Japan.
The soaring, insatiable Japanese demand is based on a variety of health claims from bottlers, none of which have yet been medically proven.
Koyo's currently shipping 80,000 bottles a DAY to Japan.
-Reuters
2,144 US$ for a Gallon. And it's not even freshwater. Uhm seawater minerals? Can't I just use tablesalt if I want to get dehydrated from too much drinking anymore? You'd think, but yeah, Jet, this is a really stupid case. The water I'm buying is really cheap. Right. Do you math again and compare your small bottled water to how much gas you can fill in the same container. Badabing badaboom.
I'm sure the person first said "We're going to be drinking water out of bottles 20 years from now" back then would have been laughed at. Maybe I should say "10 years from now, we'll be getting our air out of bottles too." and have you laugh at me as well.
Get the trend?
From the age of computers where everything is computerized we unwittingly step into a new era of the age of bottles where everything and everything is bottled. Cool. I'm sure even writer Jules Verne who predicted the submarine, the horseless carriage, and the vegas stripclub signs didn't see that coming. Not even Nostradamus. It just proves one thing. Human irrationality is about as predictable as Melanie Marquez in a State of the Nation speech*.
"Water? Never touch the stuff! Fish fuck in it!" - WC Fields
Damn I'm thirsty.
*Not that she'll ever be the president of anything, but who knows?
Scam Mails
Scam Mails
I got this mail the other day. It came from a certain Robert Mark from Cote d'Ivoire.
Dear Respected One,
Greetings to you. I am Robert Mark, a registered legal practitioner and national of Ivory Coast. I have access to some legal and confidential information concerning a late Mr. Mike T. Azreal a resident investor here who recently passed away. I handled some legal briefs for him concerning a deposit of valuables and cash he made with a deposit company here. Owing to the demise of my client and by virtue of my relationship with him, I have decided to use all the resources within my power to retrieve the deposit, since my client died intestate. Until this time I, the solicitors, have been trying to determine the whereabouts of any of the relatives who will assume the responsibility of safe guarding the estate of the deceased.
It is not my will to see the above matter treated that way hence I conducted a search that will assist me in first and foremost fighting for the safety of the consignment and all that is contained therein.I am very much aware of my client's last dealings with the deposit firm and I have the singular privilege of being in possession of some of the signed agreement papers. I have contacted you to assist in repatriating the money and property left behind by my client because If a relative is not found within six weeks then the Public Trustee will seize the entire estate of my late client, a substantial windfall for both the government and the deposit company.
I look forward to your cooperation and your extreme discretion in this matter. Until such time as this matter is settled, I will continue to work with you to see that the deposit is retrieved and forwarded in your name as a bona fide proxy to my late client. We shall within the course of the next few days plan and execute how best to pursue this mutual matter with a view to cost effectiveness, I have all the necessary legal documents that will be used to back up any claim we may make. All I require is your honest cooperation to enable us see this deal through. I guarantee that this will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any breach of law. Please get in touch with me by email to enable us discuss further.
Yours sincerely
Robert
Mark.
Mark Chambers
Justice. Avocats Et Avocats-Conseils.
Lot, 2743 ,Cocody
Abidjan,Cote d'Ivoire
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Checked the company, not registered with the Heiros Gamos (a worldwide registry of Law Firms). ICOR (registry office of the Ivory Coast) lists at least twenty Mark Chambers' in the country. The letter is surprisingly well-written and the terminologies he used are unusually apt at least for a suspected scam email.
Now normally I would play along until the last minute, however, what ticked me off is that this mail came in with a formatting as though somebody wrote it in notepad with wordwrap turned on and then copy pasted it into the email client without turning it back off. Anybody who's worked with word processors long enough knows what that looks like (for the sake of good imagery I reformatted the email as you see it in this post).
Nevermind that you'll be misreprestenting a dead person and that you'll be laundering off money to the Philippines, that has a newly intensified anti-laundering act. This guy says "I guarantee that this will be executed under a legitimate arrangement that will protect you from any breach of law. Please get in touch with me by email to enable us discuss further." That's basically like a Jesus Christ impostor saying he'll do a lazarus on you if you have enough faith to kill yourself.
Woot and gold for me. Robert is about as suspicious as that freaky guy by the meat section of the supermarket offering free taste samples on toothpicks. Anyway, since it's a bad habit to never reply to a formal correspondence, I did what he told me to do, but I took the step further as a bonafide proxy to the deceased.
Here's my reply: 
Dear Anonymous One,
I am not dead. Stop giving my money to strangers.
P.S. You're fired, tool.
Lovelots,
Mr. Mike T. Azreal
----------------------------------------------------------
June 13, 2006
The Theory of Bioerudition
The Theory of Bioerudition
Let's get our head out of the anger posts and comedy posts for a while to delve on something a bit more scholarly. But since we're already into the topic of human excrete, let's start from that point.
I dont know if youve tried this already but if you take a dipper of warm water and dip the hand of a sleeping person inside, there's a good chance that he'll either wet his bed or wake up with a strong call of nature within him.
How do you explain this?
I have a theory that I've been playing with for years now. I'll call it the theory of bioerudition, named so because I cant think of something that sounds cooler right now.
So here's what I think. The real reason why a person suddenly feels the need to urinate when you dip his hand in warm water specially when he is sleeping is that we still have leftovers of a hardwired primal instinct developed by man during the ice age to urinate in warm waters to prevent loss of latent heat.
The same principle can be applied for the behaviour of certain people who get the urge to piss when they see, hear or feel running water, though this time, it's more of a matter of hygiene. This, can be seen with other animals though not as specific as with running water.
Nobody teaches a dog to set aside a place to do his dirty thing, he's born with that knowledge and doesnt have to learn that taking a dump all over his habitat is unhealthy. He gets it right the first time around.
So by definition, bioerudition is the passing of hardcoded higher concept knowledge biologically from parent to offspring over a long chain of generations to increase the probability of racial survival. It's evolution in a mental path.
In the near future, the most essential of our knowledges could be transmitted biologically and no longer though latent learning. I believe that a child learning how to read 2000 years ago would have a harder time than a child learning how to read in the present day, because some information has already been engraved in our heads. In the future, not knowing how to read by age 3 will be deviant. A simple survey can prove this trend.
So why does this happen? I'd like to call it the aircraft carrier principle. An aircraft taking off from a carrier needs to gain speed using its thrusters so it can gain self-sustained flight as soon as possible, and hopefully, soon enough to not crash in the sea. In nature, the faster you learn how to do things on your own, the better your chances are in survival. So if you're 30 and you still live 80% of your life in the living room of your parent's house, you have to practice a bit more of the aircraft carrier principle.
So maybe you're asking, if this sort of trend happens for behaviour that can increase survival, why do we still have the lukewarm-water-urination behavior when it's no longer the ice ages? Pissing in cold water can't freeze you to death anymore, in short, the behaviour is useless. The answer can be found in men's nipples and the snake's false legs. Adaptation is a passive organism activity. It only corrects things that are detrimental to survival. If at the start of mankind's existence men did have mammary glands too (I can explain why this is so in some other post if you remind me). But since human males have been given a hunter task, adaptation eventually got rid of the twins because boobies hinder hunting activites. But after it got smaller, it reached a point that it was no longer a hindrance, so it stopped getting smaller. Since the nipples neither help nor hinder, they were retained. Since lukewarm-water-urination is neither useful nor useless, it's retained as well. Perhaps if in the future urinating in lukewarm water can get you killed, this will be etched off in our brains as well.
It's amazing how much of your behavior is not really under your control, but are effects and side effects of your primeval instincts. A simple day to day observation and usage of out-of-the-box thinking can show you how much of you are being controlled by your basic animal instinct to survive.
After all, you didn't think man became able to feel love, hate, hunger, pain, reverence just for the heck of it, did you? There are no accidents in the road of evolution. Urinating due to fear might as well just be one way our ancestors tried to ward off predators by foul stench. Skunks and squids do it too. Hell, even certain species of plants can do it - and they dont even have brains.
For all we know, the concept of free will could only be a false idea nature has given us to feel that we're in control and disregard the intrinsic knowledge that we're still just biological machines with just one objective: racial survival.
As you finish reading this think of the following human activities and try to explain why we feel so collectively, in a survival point of view.
- we find all babies cute but not as much anymore when they grow older
- people faint when they get too scared of something
- certain types of curvateurs make a person of the opposite sex pleasing
- you think all of this is bullcrap and that you behave the way you do because you want to
None of this is of course backed by actual data of course. But it's amusing sometimes to find how much a thing makes much so much sense and be nonsensical at the same time, isn't it?
More Idiots on the Road.
More Idiots on the Road.
- I was driving in Malate the other day when I was unfortunate enough to get caught in the middle of the crossroad when the light suddenly turned orange. By the time I crossed the street, the light was already red. The eyes of the policemen stationed there, however, were greener than ever. God I hate those type of cops.
- Anyway, being the gentleman that I am, I pulled over and rolled down my window. He asked for my license and registration, to which I replied, on what offense? Beating the red light was his reply. I wasnt beating the red light. And even if I were beating the red light, there's no way in hell im going to give him his 100 bucks of red tape.
- So I started moving again and this moron cop does the unthinkably dumb heroic antic. He grabs on to my open window. I increased speed to 40kph and he was panting for dear life. Exercise = death to beer-belly cops. Who does he think he is? Terminator? To this guy I thought, heroes are not of fiction, they're career options.
- I sped up even more and watch him wither away like satan in a prayer rally. After a while, he finally gave up.
- Or became roadkill.
- What an idiot.
- Speaking of idiots. Here's one more story for you.
- I was using the men's room earlier. When I got there the urinals were occupied so I headed for the cubicle. Inside, I saw fingerprints made of shit on the flush.
Don't they ever teach people anything now in schools? I hate stupid people. Stupid people are the worst. I wonder how these idiots even manage to breathe.It's called a foot flush for a reason - you flush with your foot, not your shit-coated fingers.
Speaking of shit, I also think that anybody dumb enough to get shit all over their fingers when doing something as simple as taking a dump should be shot on sight so they don't breed, or worse, inbreed.
- My 360 Blog entry for September 16, 2005
Testimonials are Cool
Testimonials are Cool
It's 15 minutes before 12 and I'm still at the office. Worst bit of it is that I feel like nothing more than a programmatical equivalent ofa warm body by doing standbys. To save myself from the boredom (and the hunger since I havent had dinner yet) I've decided to take a look at your typical friendster testimonials.
Testimonial A - The Testi-In-A-Can
Include sexy,beautiful, cute, intelligent, fun in a few sentences. Add the name of the person you think you know and then add "I miss you so much" for estranged contacts. Woot. You have yourself a canned testimonial. I mean seriously, if every person who got the "cute, beautiful, intelligent, and fun" testimonal lived up to what people wrote about him/her, thice place would be so much better a place to live in. That and we dont have to watch shitty actors on TV just because they "have good hair". But noooooooo... You know what? False advertising should be grounds for captital punishment.
Hey I can even make a testi song about it
Come on everybody!
I say now let's play a testi game
I betcha I can make a testi out of anybody's name
The word of the testi, I'll say like it is true
But a Cute or an Pretty or an Sexy will appear
And then I say Handsome add a "Pogi si" then I say the name even if he's a friggin schmo
And then I say the name again with "I miss U" very plain
add an ass kissing song
And then I say the name again with an "smart" this time
and there isn't any name that I can't testi!
(to the tune of the name game)
Nardo!
Nardo, Nardo, si Nardo siya ay napaka gwapo
smart pa at maanagas
si... Nardo!
SNORE.
Testimonial B - Spot the Retard
This testimonial is very much entertaining in the very same sense that you're entertained looking for Wally in a Where's Wally book, except that instead of Wally in a sea of people youre looking for grammatical errors in a sea of words and instead of just one Wally, you're looking at more errors than with George Bush reading the Constitution.
e.g.
Darla is the cute and very prity in the houz. She's have good time with as we stayed. Friendships treasure in sharing with you. Missing you gurl!
Can you say Dee Dee Dee? Retarded.
Testimonial C - The Unoriginal Song Plagiarizer
So what's worse than a bad testimonial? I know! WASTING WEBSPACE AND PEOPLES TIME BY PUTTING LYRICS OF A SONG EVERYBODY KNOWS. As if that song was really written for the person being testified for! What's worse is that there are people who dont even put the songs in the right context.
e.g.
Hey dad look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according to plan?
And do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do?
But it hurts when you disapprove all along
And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't pretend that
I'm alright
And you can't change me
This song is for you, baby, because like the title of the song, you're perfect.
Idiot. If you thought she was perfect why didnt you just go out and say it? That's 10 seconds of my life youve stolen from me. Taking lives is murder, you murderer. Can you say elektra complex in a twisted light? Dad?
Testimon
ial D - TestiArt
Yes this people are those who just cant express themselves through words. Because some things are just easier to show through other means. Like take for example a monkey who is incapable of writing. I have a strong hunch that these people who use characters to draw things on testimonials are those same people who have the undying urge to draw penises inside comfort rooms and bus seats. Vandals should be shot with ink-tip bullets just so people would know what they did when they were still alive.
Testimonial D - The Nonesense Testimonial
This testimonial shouldnt even be called a testimonial. It usually consists of anything of the following:
- A birthday greeting.
- A personal message that they want everybody else to know of so their place in society can be affirmed by the crap theyre talking about. Like ("PAHIRAM NG BENZ, HA" or "THANKS FOR THE SNOREFEST PARTY")
- Anything else that can be put anywhere but on a testimonial because it's not testifying about anything other than the stupidity/ignorance of whoever wrote it.
Testimonial E - Plagiarized testimonials
So you think piracy is limited to movies, software and pornography eh? Think again. Hey, piracy is always more convenient for people who cant afford. And for this case, people who cant afford to think. Next time we'll be having raids against these kinds of testimonials led by Edu Manzano. I'd create a skit about it involving Edu and a pirate and in the end the pirate will add Edu to her friendster and give her a pirated testimonial for a girl because she doesnt even know it's only meant for guys.
------------------------------
People say I am a bitter man, that maybe I posted this because I dont have any testimonials and if I do get them I either reject them or take them down faster than you can say "ispentsixhoursonthattestimonialyouasshole". Well they're right, and if they had been nice enough to include that fact, I would have reconsidered my actions.
DAMN IM HUNGRY. PUBLISHING AND GOING HOME.
Fishballs and Sticks
Fishballs and Sticks
When I was still studying at my Alma Mater as a gradeschool student, I never let a day go without eating at least a stick of street food (fishballs, orange eggs and the like). Of course, everyone can jump into a standardized conclusion that such food is dirty. My best friend keeps on calling it the eat-now-regret-later kind of food. It’s funny because after he kids around like that, we go on eating like we don’t know any better. Perhaps it’s the taste of danger that we savor best.
One particular rule though that we always abide by is to break the stick from which we ate before throwing it away because the might vendor pick up the sticks that is scattered around his place in the plaza and use it again for some other customer. I once saw an incident one afternoon during my fifth grade when the man who sold Bopis (pork insides I think), started picking up the littered sticks all over his place and putting it inside a plastic bag. I was shocked because before then, I hardly believed the rumors of the stick recycling biz. Of course I didn’t care much then but the thing is that I never forgot how dirty they worked.
Who could blame them anyway? Life is hard in this country right? Finally after all this years, I got another chance to see a vendor doing the same thing near a private school. I couldn’t resist but ask why he would even go to the extent of jeopardizing other people’s health for the measly cost of a stick (less than fifty centavos).
“Manong, bakit mo pinupulot yan? Di po ba marumi na yang mga stik? ”*
The man slowly turned around and laughed at me.
“Ha? Kasi, ayaw na ayaw dati ni Father Paul na nagkakalat kami sa paligid ng eskwelahan. Eh, wala namang basurahan dito kaya kahit saan na lang nagtatapon ang mga bata pati na mga drayber. Ako na rin tuloy ang naglilinis.”**
I was in shock. Here I was, mocking for half of my lifetime the way he behaved in his line of work, only to be shamed by the simple fact that I had forgotten to acknowledge. My stereotype mind simply judged all lowly artisans and vendors, for that matter, as crooked. And to think that all these years I was one of those who not only broke the stick but also one of those who scattered the stick in the ground after I ate. I was the one who had a low sense of responsibility over others.
That afternoon was an eye opener and I have the good vendor to thank for it. Instances that demand morality have its way of seeping into our routine lives and often, sacrifices to make them pass perfectly are hardly significant. Often times it doesn’t make you poorer or richer in any aspect, but it simply makes this world a better place to live in. Cliché as it is, that’s the bottom line of all this rambling; Life or something like it.
*Sir, why did you pick it up? Isn’t the stick already dirty?
** Because Father Paul really despised littering around the school. There is no trashcan here so the children and the drivers tend to litter anywhere. So I just have to clean after them.
A Writer's Credo
A Writer's Credo
I cant exactly remember the title of this piece and neither does the one who created it. Riina Reyes made this originally for the ragnaboards writing community, causing helluvalotta uproar from other writers. It's a nice read. P.S. I do not share the exact same sentiments as her. I just liked the way she put things in an as-a-matter-of-fact kind of statement.
---------------------------------
I believe that there is no such thing as an unbiased review.
I believe that all reviews are to and should be taken personally.
I believe giving it all to impress isnt impressive.
I believe good writers know how to downplay their skills.
I believe spots in an apple are still just spots.
I believe stupid posts draw out the stupidity in everybody.
I believe bestfriends in fics fall in love because it's convenient.
I believe not all reviews are good for you.
I believe that the conductor's sticks should never be passed on to the audience.
I believe Japanese names should be reserved for Japanese people.
I believe that Germans should be left alone.
I believe the best authors make the worst audience.
I believe only enforced rules can be broken.
I beleive not many people care about typos unless reminded.
I believe canned replies should be respected.
I believe canned plots should remain canned.
I believe in a God who hates shared dedications.
I believe passengers have the right to distinguish bad flights.
I believe only seasoned pilots can tell which planes are bad for flying.
I believe that there is no such thing as equality in a competition.
I believe that politics is a necessary evil but is evil nonetheless.
I believe that dirty fics are the product of not getting any.
I believe anybody who says otherwise is just sympathetic to the writer and is just as big a loser.
I believe inbreeding is never good for the genepool.
I believe that originality is more important than grammar.
I believe that commitments should be kept till the end.
I believe plagiarism is more than just copying word per word.
I believe TV and videogames are bad for the imagination.
I believe other books shouldnt be source of inspiration.
I believe that 'losing it' is a result of carelessness.
I believe grammar should never stand in the way of clarity.
I believe style should be seen, not explained.
I believe that people who just keep on saying they want to improve wont.
I believe writing is a selfish profession.
I believe fans should be called patrons instead.
I believe this world will exist without artists.
I believe artists will exist without this world.
I believe people will hate me for writing this.
I believe they will hate me even more because it's all true.
But I believe in myself.
I believe I can be wrong but not until I have been proven wrong.
And I believe you can do better.
What do you believe in?
-------------------------------------------
My comment? Heh, I believe her but we hate her anyway. Just kidding, Rin. ;)
Challenging Faith
Challenging Faith
KIEV, Ukraine - A man shouting that God would keep him safe was mauled to death by a lioness in the Kiev zoo after he crept into the animal's enclosure, a zoo official said Monday.
“The man shouted, ‘God will save me, if he exists,’ lowered himself by a rope into the enclosure, took his shoes off and went up to the lions,” the official said.
“A lioness went straight for him, knocked him down and severed his carotid artery.”
The incident on Sunday evening, when the zoo was packed with visitors, was the first of its kind at the attraction. Lions and tigers are kept in an "animal island" protected by thick concrete blocks.
-REUTERS
----------------------------------------------------------------
Apparently the lions didnt want walk-in evangelists any more than I do. At least for my case I politely ask them to leave, I dont ask them to come closer, let them remove their shoes, and then severe their blood vessels with sharp teeth because good luck in getting "that" out of your carpet.
It's a sad tragedy, I know. A death is a death no matter how slapstick it sounds. But did he actually prove anything in doing this? Heck even the main Man Jesus knows what to do for this case. (see illustration, provided for by theblocktestament.com)
There's actually an old story that speaks to this issue.
A man was sitting on his porch during a flood. A police car came by and offered to take him to safety. He said, "Don't worry. God will save me."
The waters rose and he soon found himself on the roof of his porch. A police boat came by and offered to take him to safety. He said, "Don't worry. God will save me."
The waters rose and he soon found himself on top of his chimney. A police helicopter flew over and offered to take him to safety. He said, "Don't worry. God will save me."
He soon found himself standing in front of the gates of heaven. He looked up at God and said, "Why didn't you save me?"
God said, " I sent you a car, a boat, and a helicopter. What more did you want?"
You thank God with what you already have. Thank God for what more comes. His will be done. You dont push the margins. You dont act stupid. It's simple enough. A lion is created to eat anything that resembles a steak as long as it's within its reach (either that or it just wants peace and quiet). That's how God created it. You dont act all special and shit and ask God to bend his laws just for you because maybe God hates pressure.
The man probably missed the whole story about the early Christians being thrown to the Lions in Rome. I seem to remember Nero saying something similiar, "If your God exists he will save you". And we all know what happend there.
God obviously has a Laissez-faire management approach to the world. He helps, but when He does we either dont know it or dont understand it. You're on your own, make the most out of it. Dont act stupid.
As a final thought on this matter, I have but one question. Was the man a devout believer trying to prove a point and failed at it or was he an atheist tired of proving his point by explaining and did a hands on experiment and technically succeeded at it?
ImprompTULA
ImprompTULA
So what does it take to create a poem? I tried to make a mental dump while chatting with my girlfriend the other day. No topics in mind, no structure planned out and just whipped out one word after another. After a few minutes, this is what came out (I took extra time outside those few minutes to correct the spelling errors but everything else is retained).
this sandcastle when it fades and withers and withers
till the waves taketh it to nothing but sand
would you see through the grains and see the palace for its gradeur
will you build the image in your mind?
for what is glory but for a moment
bedazzling in radiance albeit ephemeral
but thought be strong and does not rend
and in keeping by heart be eternal
true treasure it seems as it seems
more than what we see, more than what we have
is what is held in one's dreams,
id norst trun deint saab*
*(and kept within your dreams)
As it turned out, it did have a theme, because we were talking about something along the questions of "If something physical changes in somebody you like, will you not like him or her anymore for what has changed? Or will you like things for what you remember of them? When you say you like Michael Jackson do you think of his child rape cases and the shitfestival music he keeps on shoving down our throats or do you like him for the memory back when he was still sane and musically rational? But that's not the point.
I also tried to keep the rhymes in check though only passively. For metrics, I invoke the power of the freeverse, though I did try to abide by the rule of breath. Freeverse is such a sweet excuse for not knowing how to sculpt words and being symmetrically stupid.
For the last line I couldnt think of anything good to match with "have" so I do what I do best. I bluff. Maybe you're thinking, holy **** this poem is multilingual. It's got turkish/latin/german/french/samoan/bahasa/choose-one-it-doesnt-matter-language in it. Wrong. I put it there based on the premise that no single person in this world knows all the language or at least is knowledgable enough to distinguish lingual signatures to distignuish which part of the planet that came from.
So I invented my own set of words and slapped them together, mainly because im too lazy to rework the last few lines and that i hate spending way too much time for such pointless forms of literature (not all poetry, just mine and more than the majority of the snoregalore works being posted online).
My point is that it will take more time to appreciate something like the poetry above than write it. There's no justification for something like that. It's like an acievement award being harder to create than the achievement itself.
Gah.More Quotes from Work
More Quotes from Work
I've found more self-quotations stored in my laptop, these quotes from June 2004-August 2005. I can't really remember when I made most of these but half of them are lines I created as signatures for my email messages back in Azeus.
--------
Case: Glass, filled halfway with water.
********
Pessimistic user: This glass is half empty already.
Optimistic user: This glass is still half full.
System Analyst: This glass is twice as large as it needs to be.
Tester: We need to see if the glass can handle its full capacity.
Developer: WHO THE HELL DRANK MY WATER? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?
----
Memories are little gifts that we borrow from Time. They are never lost, only returned.
----
If rabbits' feet are lucky, how come rabits never win the lottery? (Maybe because they don't bet.)
----
It's hard to admit that we have a lot more animal instincts that we realize. Even our refusal to admit is designed by nature. The less likely we are to realise that we are acting like animals, the less likely we are going to fight against it.
----
Im shouting already but you never hear me
My screams always fall to deaf ears
There's a cobbled wall between us; you dont see
that I stand alone against my fears
----
Help keep our planet clean. Keep your mouth shut.
----
God does not answer. He inspires us to find out for ourselves.
----
The prefect optimist lives his life in a series of tragedies.
The perfect pessimist, in a stream of jaded miracles.
----
I don't understand people who are afraid of the unknown when the certain and the inevitable
have so much more fear to offer.
----
Moving on is just backing out in another direction.
----
Backing out is just moving on in another direction.
----
If there's a deadline you must meet
then in five minutes files you commit
lest changes in code, you have none
a click of a mouse, the build be done
(a programmer's build song - similar to an irish beer song)
----
Oftentimes playing dumb is the smartest thing to do.
----
God does not always want us to be happy. If it were so, he wouldn't have given us tears.
Sometimes he wants to make us cry. As a doctor would have slapped us to make us cry after He has delivered us into this world, God gives us trials for the same reason - so we realize that we are alive, and that we have to breathe to stay alive.
----
The heart may be the weakest part of the body but we should also never underestimate the
tenacity of the soul to go on. [bad quote, kept in list just to remind myself not all quotes here are actually quotable]
----
We are shattered glass. We cant fit where we dont belong without shattering ourselves.
----
Sometimes it's not
the story that needs to be told
but the manner by which it is told
that counts.
----
Attitude is not in what you wear,
it's in what you have to remove
when washing what you've worn.
- Mr. Clean [autoquotations]
----
You can give birth but you can never take it.
You can give hope but you can never grab it.
You can grant forgiveness but you can never force it.
You can give a gift but you can never grab one.
You can give love but you can never steal someone else's.
Most things in life that count are given and cannot be obtained otherwise.
-----
If you have an open mind and it plays a note evertime the wind blows, it's probably hollow.
-----
you know the smile so wide, it's tearing your heart apart?
-----
It takes a great man to shed tears
for when tears come out of a man,
they come out thicker than blood
-----
The original smiley emoticon was born out of the need to convey emotions through text-only data medium. Whenever you type a smiley to whoever your communicating with, are you really smiling? Or has the emoticon become nothing more than a protocol of politeness? [autoquotations]
-----
"I am the boatman to perdition. Somebody has paid me to take you across."
- Hitman's Diaries
-----
Between fantasy and reality? Consequence.
-----
You know your country is screwed up when a police official defects to the communists. For almost any other case around the world, throught history, it's the opposite case. The poor feller actually has given up what Communism is almost self-destructively trying to prevent.
----
It's amazing how timely the wiretapped evidence has surfaced. Just when we're already an arm's length deep up the asses of the Jueteng Lords in the governmental ranks, we take it out again and answer the goddamn phone.
---
HK is celebrating Tuen Ng.
RP is celebrating Independence Day.
They're celebrating fast-moving dragon boats.
We're celebrating a sinking ship.
-----
The hardest moral decisions are not between right and wrong.
They're between right and right.
-----
Do you tie your shoelaces so your shoes don't fall off or do you do it so you don't fly out of them?
-----
Isn't it stupefyingly dumb albeit useful how sometimes
the words you mean the least come into the ears of another person
as words that mean the most?
-----
Everything in life has a purpose. Even those that appear to have none have the purpose of reminding us that not everything has to have purpose to have a purpose.
-----
A man who does no evil when there is good all around him cannot be worthed to a man who does even minute goodness to his fellowmen in the face of evil. For bubbles are formed not with a large absence of water, but with the presence of even the most miniscule air amidst water.
-----
Immitation as the best form of flattery does NOT apply for acts of mockery.
-----
Anybody who has done enough overtime can tell you one simple rule in life:
He who hesitates, starves.
-----
Many a great change came to be not because of the euphony of a thousand voices but because of the silence of one.
-----
Sometimes, the key to avoid losing something dear is to not find it in the first place.
----
Our heart is the strongest and weakest muscle in the body. For the heart, when wounded, bleeds the most and endures pain longest..
----
A simple rule governing work: Do what you love and love what you've done.
----
You're never too old for anything that's not too old for you.
----
Do be historically accurate, you need an accurate history first.
----
Stupidity is a prerogative. I just happen to know how to exploit it properly.
----
The first thing that you have to learn when working in a technical field is to be
forgiving of ignorance.
----
God exists not in the overtly blatant truths. He does not exist in the majestic that is everything he created. He is not in the masonry of the Church. He is not in the paperback religion. He is not in the blessed stagnation of water.
God exists in the happy coincidences of life, in the smiles of schoolboys and schoolgirls, inside the accidentally half-burnt but still tasty pasta, in the cries of the newly born, beside the falling tree, with the unexpected kiss, amidst the ephemeral rain, in anything that you do that you did because you could.
God is not the gears inside the clock of life.
He is its very ticking.
5-18-2005 1840
----
The one thing that we should learn from all computer role playing games is that the world's greatest adventures cannot be uncovered just by sitting in front of the couch.
-----
Man puts faith on anything but himself.
(Theory: We are wired by nature to think of this way not because it wants us to start worshiping a great unknown factor. We are made to have faith on things other than ourselves so that we can thrive through coexistence, but for some reason, man has managed to distort this dented natural adaptation as an actual reasoning for a divine existence and a reason to be independent, id est, to be dependent on a nonexistent factor)
------
A company that wont even trust us when we call in sick during saturdays, mondays, and after holidays?
Why do we have waste what could be more efficacious rest just to get a farflung doctor's opinion on the most basic of sicknesses that neither need diagnosis nor prescription?
Cant they take our word for it? A mature company who thinks it has the most immature employees is farce.
(hahaha funny enough, the last quote is neither funny nor profound. what makes it so damn special is that 1 week after having written that on my text file, I submitted my formal letter of resignation)
Traffic Mishaps
Traffic Mishaps
Why is it that no matter how f'ing obvious it is who did the stupidity in a road "accident", both drivers always come out with their arms wide open and their mouths agape like they both can't believe what had happened and that the root cause is always the "other" driver? Let's take a look at a typical cause of traffic, a car getting hit by another car from behind.
driver 1: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW Why the hell did you have to stop like that and let me hit you doing 40 when it's only the red f***ing light?
driver 2: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? HAVENT YOU SEEN A RED LIGHT BEFORE?
driver 1: I'm the son of the uncle of the classmate of the guy the wife of the mayor used to be dating back in highschool! you dont mess with me and I dont need to know what a red light is!
driver 2: Well Im a police! (in my previous life) and I frequent red light districts! Don't mess with me either!
driver 1: wala yan sa lolo ko!
driver 2: mas matindi lolo ko sa lolo mo!
driver 1: aba aba aba! namemersonal ka na! wag mo idamay lolo ko dito!
driver 2: lelang mo panot!
extra driver observing from another lane (cause of traffic #3): sige nga hawakan mo sa tenga!
driver 1: *all teary eyed and stuff*... kasalanan mo ito eh...
extra children: iiyak na... iiyak na.. .IIYAK NA!
driver 2: burot!*
Well at least that's how I'd imagine things to turn out. My friend tells me, it's just a case of sindakan (a game of who gets to shock the other first). He who frets first will loose confidence and the other gets his way around. But sometimes the arguments that course through these kinds of situations can get really stupid. Stupid as in one person says "I DIDNT SEE YOU COMING SO IT'S YOUR FAULT!" and the other replies, "MAYBE THAT'S BECAUSE YOU DONT HAVE YOUR HEADLIGHTS ON" stupid. All in the name of shock and awe.
That or stupidity.
*For those people who didn't get to be a batang kalye (street boys) during their childhood, burot means urat. If you still dont know what that means, urat means pikon. if you still dont know what that means, that means you have to go back to basic Filipino class and ask your teacher to rip you a new one.
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