Grand Theft Trick or Treat

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

I was riding the elevator in the office this morning and saw a notice from the building admin. It's about a trick or treat program theyve prepared for the building. Nice, I thought. There's something for a change. Building admin dress up in costume and go knocking door to door to well, do trick or treat. Pretty cool.

Until I saw the rest of the paper.

It said, "we entice all residents to prepare an amount to give beforehand."

I read again. At first I thought it was a typo. It said amount. Not treat. Not candy. Amount. What the hell? Whatever happend to Halloween is for sweets? And it wont even be happening at night. They're coming 3-5pm. Yes. In the afternoon, lazy hours.

Where's the f'ing sense there? Today ain't christmas. And sure as hell it aint their funeral.

Then it hit me. People in costumes asking for money. That's just pure genius.

Perfect gig for outright robbery.

But I'll be waiting for them. 2 hours to go.

I hope the cops come on time.

In other news, somebody took a duke in our office CR. That CR has no sink, vents and its sits comfortably beside our air conditioning unit. Whatever bomb that gets contained there is bound to leak. For that reason, it's a tacit given that nobody's allowed to make chocolate hotdogs there. Piss yes, brown sausages, no. Well apparently somebody has managed to do that. My nostrils are burning. I'm actually starting to look for Jews, because this place feels like a gas chamber right now.

Restau Rants

Monday, October 30, 2006

Well, I'm not really ranting. I just couldn't think of a good catchy title in a span of a minute that relates to what I'm supposed to talk about. Anyway, I'm going to share with you some tips about how restaurants are run over the years. Not that I have any experience, but I've seen these tricks being used by managers (both straight and dastardly ones).

It helps if you imagine yourself as a manager while reading this.

1. For crowd control use music.

So what do you do if you have a lot of people, few chairs and tables, and a need to make the flow of customers as streamlined as possible? (i.e. they buy, they eat, they go). Crank up the music. That's right. Pump up the music to a certain volume where talking becomes really hard.

It's common sense to know that people do only two things after getting their orders: chow down the food and talk. The latter takes up more of the time of the customer's stay, and talk does not help you earn any money. We can easily eliminate this problem with music. Loud music.

If they can't hear each other, they won't be staying to chat.

2. When rice is unlimited, lessen the salt on your food.

Salt is the ultimate rice complement. Not directly, but anything salty becomes fun to eat with rice. If your shop is offering free refills of rice, cut back on salty food items. If you do have them, reduce salt content. Try eating rice with salty vegetables and fresh unsalted vegetables. It works. Rice is generally boring to eat. Salty viands make rice interesting. But we're not here to make things interesting. We're here to cut back on spending. Cut the salt, save the rice.

3 . When you're in a buffet, make your drinks super sweet.

It's a scientific fact that sugar deactivates appetite faster than anything on the table. This is the reason why we use dessert at the end of meals - to kill the craving. How does this work? Sugar gets absorbed by the body, and being somethign so simple, the bloodstream quickly recieves the sustinence it needs. The brain senses this and deactivates synaptic pulsations that call for more food to be imbibed.

Ergo, sweetness in your drinks will kill cravings to go back again and again. Also, the simpler the sugar structure in your drink, the better. Id est, the complex sugars found in the caramel sugar of coke actually gets absorbed slower than the diluted pure cane sugar of iced tea. Go for iced tea, for the win.

4. If possible, use smaller plates and utensils.

This is actually a dieting method - one method we can use to stem off huge consumptions of buffet items. The original idea is to make small portions larger. For your case, the smaller plates will play on the thought that coming back again and again even in a buffet is an act worthy of shame. Dieting and shame - now that's two pronged way to make them stop eating without having to force them off the buffet table.

I'm not sure why I even think about these things. Talk about being random again.

Oh well, it's a rainy monday morning. Anything is excusable.

Balat Sa Pwet

Saturday, October 28, 2006

In case you've been wondering what "Balat Sa Pwet" is in English, it's called a Mongolian Blue Spot. Or, quite simply, a birthmark in your buttocks. I kind of pity the Mongolians to have such a mark in your body that only appears in the buttcheek region be named after their race. I mean, shit, they could just have named it "blue spot of awesomeness that is not awesome" for all we care. But no. It had to be mongolian.

Seriously speaking though, these birthmarks are limited to people of Asian descent, particulary the mongoloid subspecies of man (i.e. people with slanted eyes). A racist birthmark, yay! They're supposed to disappear after a while too. It's like marks of God kicking you in the buttocks just before you enter earth, so you know by preview what to expect if you screw up.

One odd local tradition about these things though is that the old people from the provinces deem birthmarks as unlucky signs. When something goes wrong they'd say "Sino ba dito may balat sa pwet?" (Who in here has a birthmark in his ass?")

That shit is just wrong. I mean, how did they find out that a birthmark in the arm is not as unlucky as a mark in your butt? Did they do trial and error on this one? I can imagine now:

Village Elder: Another villager died from a falling tree today.
Villager: uhuh.
Village Elder: That's the third one this week.
Villager: Maybe we should stop cutting trees using knives so they dont fall on us.
Village Elder: That's retarded. What will you be suggesting next? Serrated foot-long blades?
Villager: But...
Village Elder: Who's your village elder? I call the shots here.
Villager: ...
Village Elder: Have you checked the corpse for funny marks?

Villager: There's one dark shade in his buttocks, sir.
Village Elder: Eureka! I think we've solved our problems.

For the record, I had a birthmark when I was a kid and yes, I was so damn afraid of showing it to other people because they will inevitably blame me for anything from natural calamities to their own stupidity, with emphasis on the latter.

For me, I think these blue marks are just proof of nature that being alive kicks ass.

A Sad Day For Humanity

Friday, October 27, 2006

Just today I opened my friendster page to check on messages from old friends when I saw yet another survey. I read it and just felt sad. Sad not just for myself but for my race. This guy belongs to the same planet as me and there's not much I can do about it that doesn't land me in jail. *sigh* Society no longer rewards heroes who take care of threats to humanity. Read this, I don't even have to insert punchline comments.

* ako si Rojinald James U. Turingan a.k.a RJ,
Procorpio Magalpopk, Zoolander at Maverick

* ung bubwit sa bahay kakacrush ko lng nung

* wala na graduate na ko tae

* TANGINA mo!!!!!

* magmaneho ng B-type Gear na tulad n rin ng F-
15 bomber kasabay na rin ang pagmumura sa
harap ng pc dahil sa lag at magpalevel ng
character sa flyff.... oo nga pala manggago din ng


* 23 tangina married kagaguhan lang yan!


flowers na lang para may bubuyog

*taong bahay ako saka wala akong GF gagu

* DATE duh.... sayang pera

* ANO TO?!!! pakialam ko d2?

* australia na lang magmamasteral pa ko eh

*staying at home... buhat ng weights sa gym pati
na rin pagpapalvl ng mga character ko


* Inter inet tambay boys...

* tangina ung 1 buwang nilaga

* kung meron man... isang +7 keen Type D Strong
Intense Missile Launcher with built in Advanced
siege kit!

* Ako, ako, ako, ako ako, ako at ako

*si kung sino, kung ano, at sino man siya

20)your favorite subjects?
* Doris saka si RIO

* Sa buwan sa pluto at sa andromeda galaxy

* matulog, mangulit, manggago

* ung bubwit nga kakacrush ko lang nung katawan

* yoko nga... confidential info PAK YU

* lahat ng gus2 kong pakinggan paborito ko

I give up on humanity. There is no hope. We're all spiraling down to extinction.

The dinosaurs had it easy, they didnt have to put up with the gradual increase of stupid.

One meteor and then boom. Us? No. We have friendster.

Nobody Remembers

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Nobody remembers anymore.

We watch the news.

We give our two cents about it.

Hell, we'll even post a righteous blog entry about how stupid things got, or how things could have been done better.

We go through Nicole's rape case.

We talk about the Magdalo.

The Garci Tapes.

The current administration.

Then we forget.

You think you don't? Let's have a little refresher here.

Do you still remember the people buried alive in an avalanche of garbage in Payatas?

Or Sarah Balabagan the OFW?

Sarah Jane Salazar - AIDS victim?

Sajid Bulig, hero of the Bocaue Pagoda Tragedy.

Ormoc flood tragedy?

Kadhafi Janjalani and Sipadan?

The killing of Villaruel during the NAIA control tower hostage crisis?

Flor Contemplacion?

News is news only for as long as it is new.

Nobody remembers and time has to repeat for us to remember life's lessons.

Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing.
Where have all the flowers gone? Long time ago.
Where have all the flowers gone? Picked by young girls every one.
When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn.

2-Second Rubber Band Trick

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

I was going over youtube's list of senseless "i-can-do-this" videos when I found out that one particular rubber band trick hasn't been done yet. Considering that it's a trick I learned at the back of the schoolbus almost 15 years ago, I'd consider this trick as a strangely well-kept secret.

So now I've decided to become a philanthropist and donate the awe and shock this trick performance delivers because every body knows, he who knows rubber band tricks at parties gets the most number of chicks.

Well, not really, but it helps thinking that's the case.

And no, that's not me in the video. That's Tom Cruise with a funny accent.

Red Cross

Monday, October 23, 2006

Let me make room for a serious post. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from what I'll write here - granted you don't get bored. *ahem* We'll be talking about the Red Cross symbol. You all know what it looks like and granted, I'm sure you know what it stands for.

The red cross, the red crescent, red crystal and other variants are protective marks reserved by the Geneva Wartime Concention for usage of medical personnel in fields of war. Under the said convention, it is forbidden to conduct intentional acts of aggression against such bearers of the symbols (i.e. protection). In case you're not getting it, the red cross means "We're just here to make sure there are only two types of people in battle - the dead and the not yet dead - and nothing in between. Sick people are worse than dead people and are generally more tolerable than those waiting to die. So don't shoot us."

This reservation of the symbol is in effect also in non-wartime conditions. It is to be used as designated markings for the use of the International Red Cross organization for localized identification of medical aid of the sovereignity that recognizes it.

Under the Geneva Convention, and current Philippine laws, it is forbidden to use such a symbol on anything that is not connected to either the International Red Cross foundation or its protective usage for medical crew in wartime.

By forbidden, I think they mean "you could be sent to jail for wearing that symbol as a fashion statement." Maybe next time you see an enemy of yours strutting around with a red cross shirt, report him to the police and mention the republic act that punishes such crimes.

I've yet to try it but sure as hell I'm willing to try it. Don't let me catch you wearing the red cross.

Gender Equality

Sunday, October 22, 2006

I don't know about evolution but I think it's a direct insult to the ways of nature that we're forcing the way of thinking that both genders are equal when they're really not. I'm not gunning for the superiorness of my sex here. I'm saying in some things, we're just better, period. We got more muscle in our body and we are bigger. So, it's a given that certain jobs are better done by men. Case in point? System Administration. Sysads lift servers, do cablings, push and pull shit that weighs a quarter of a ton on a regular basis. Sure a woman can do it but why the hell do you have to insist doing it another way when it's so much better with what we already have? I'm sure we cant rain a tiger to drive a bicycle but nobody's making them use pedicab sidecars because we all know humans are better (and less prone to eating cranky passengers)

Common sense.

If I had my own company though, I'd be doing the opposite. I'll only hire women. If you're a guy, you're automatically disqualified. When accused of trying to convert my office into a harem of sorts, I'd go on talking about "affirmative action", except instead of blacks being the subject of the action, it'll be the women who have been oppressed all these years - they now deserve the chance they never got. And it'll probably work because people tend to just say "uhh yeah" everytime they hear terms that they don't understand anyway.

Just for kicks.

End of post, I'm too tired for anything else.

Remind me to do an article about the red cross later, that and my escapades at the komikon. Speaking of which, here's a video of one of hte bands that peformed in the Ongaku Fusion earlier:

Reunion Fun

Friday, October 20, 2006

I hate reunions. Don't get me wrong, I like to see acquaintances I havent seen in quite a while, granted I do not owe them anything and they do not have any warrants for my arrest.

Then there are those "formal" reunions. Highschool reunions, gradeschool reunions, organization reunions, family reunions where you are forced to attend. I hate them all. It's like nobody ever goes there to just be there. Everybody has to one up one another like Super Mario going for 99 lives.

(side topic: who was the person who discovered how to get 99 lives in mario? He's one tough hacker.)

And if they don't have anything to boast, people in reunions go around comparing. Either comparing you with other people in the reunion ("wow, james has more money than you red. Have you ever tried getting yourself adopted by your cousin?) or comparing you with your previous self ("you look darker than before. have you been working as a construction worker?")

It's public critic-a-thon with retards waiting on the line for any calls of opportunity to babble about useless comparisons. I hate it. You hate it. You know you do.

It's time to take an offensive, have fun at reunions. You know what's fun to do at reunions? Give the nitpicker attendees something to much like your foot - or, if you hate spending nights in jail, a comment or two.

That's right. Fight fire with fire.

Here's what you should do. Upon arriving, start a duck-shoot frenzy by using only a couple of words: "Tumaba ka." (You've gained weight) Watch smiles crumble with this one. It's a known fact that there's only one direction for weight without any clinical procedures: up. And it's a given too that people are no more insecure anywhere else than their weights.

They'd shut up and you get your piece of mind. Later (maybe much later when they decide they can one up on you), they'll go back to you and say something to come back at your comment.

But you can smile confidently and say "Not true. You're just trying to get back at me~".

With more and more people having their night ruined by your secret weapon, they'll start to grow uncomfortable and seek to end the circus as fast as they can. You all go home and then finally, you can go do what you want to do.

Of course you'll be losing an acquaintance or two but what the heck? With only idiots around, being antisocial is bliss.


Thursday, October 19, 2006

Redkinoko has been banned from Ragnaboards for a grand total of seven days for inciting flames and trolling. Apparently pictures like this are not welcome in RB:

People reading Wanted: Full-Support Priestess shouldn't worry too much though. I'll be using my sister's RB account to update.

Best Survey Ever.

(as taken from my friendster account, Oct 18, 2006)


Personality Quiz/SURVEY! Answer as fast and as honestly as you can.

Interpretations at the bottom.

When was the last time you answered a shitty question list like this?

When was the last time somebody told you nobody ever reads what you write in these kinds of questions anyway?

What attention-whoring object would represent you best?

If you could meet up with God, what do you think will he do to you? (choose 2)
A) Slap you with his right hand for being such a selfrighteous twat
B) Regret ever making you.

Enumerate the last five actions you've done in this website. Explain why they're all pointing out you're a self-centered asshole.

A tree falls in the forest. Nobody sees it. Which parent do you think gave you your genetic mental birth defect?

How many siblings do you have? How many of them do you think would actually think better of you after filling out another test like this?

Choose any of the two: Egocentric or plain attention seeker?

Which part of your body do you think is the most attractive?

Why is it superficial to think any part of you is actually attractive?

What was the last message sent to your phone?

Just kidding. That was a trick question. WE DON'T CARE.


If you answered any questions above - you still don't get it and you probably never will. Go play in traffic with the first 10 people in your testimonial list who posted a picture instead of a testimonial.

If you didn't answer any of the above but your face is furrowed - go play in traffic anyway - people with no sense of humor or enough wit to notice they're being hated for what they're doing routinely without being directly told so do not belong in this world. Uranus, probably, granted you can fit in there.

If you're still reading up to this point, worship me and you shall inherit the world.

Just kidding. Worshipping me is a reward in itself.

Or, you can go forward this message to all those assholes who think they're special if they can answer a bunch of no-brainer questions that say only one thing about their personalities - cardboarded, trite, and retarded.

Forward this to 10 people in the next 10 seconds and 10 people will hate you.
Forward this to 20 people in the next 10 seconds and 20 people will hate you and think you're a desperate dragwhore.
Forward this to 30 people in the next 10 seconds and 30 people will hate you enough to actually not care.
Wait, forward this to anybody and 1 person will not actually care what you wrote here.

Because nobody loves you. Go feed yourself to the nearest trashcan and press "empty recycle bin".

If you're still reading up to this point, scratching your head about what this means, I'll just have to go cro-magnon for you:


- Red

We Gots A New Targetoooh!

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

This is not a real update. Just another goalsetter post. For the actual daily post see the post below.


After playing around with Aya Hirano's Lost My Music, Im now gunning for the first ENOZ song as you see in this video - the chordplay sounds a bit rough but I think I can manage to hack a few of em. I'll try to make ouido chords later and improve on it the next few weeks. Also, I forgot to place the final product of Lost My Music here (I'll do it once I get a memory card for my camera)

God bless YouTube!

Music Maturity

Ever gone through your old tapes CDs and (god forbid for non-DJs) Vinyl Records at home and say to yourself with full conviction "What was I thinking?" And then you shiver at the idea of playing those old records and start thinking how much shame it would be to get caught listening to these records inside your room/car/flat whatever.

I mean there are classic songs, no qualms about that. Some songs are plain immortal. Other songs are those that deserve to die of old age and just get forgotten - like Imelda Papin (also her songs).

Here's a short list of artists that should be forgotten by history (or rather by everyone so we can all forget the fact that once upon a time, we actually had fun listening to this):

- Backstreet Boys, Code Red, 911, N'Sync , New Kids on the Block
- Spice Girls, All Saints, M2M, Girl Groups in General.
- Jimmy Ray, Masta Plan, Eminem
- Macarena guys, Gingangoolie boys, CocoJumbo (yaya yeh)
(admit it bitches, you were nodding your head to these songs too)
- Smashing Pumpkins (just kidding, SP still sucks)

And if you're about the same age as me, you probably had one particular spicegirl in mind or some boyband member who could qualify easily as extra cast for Queer Eye - whichever your preference is.

Oh god I hope you didn't watch the Spice Girls movie. (I still haunt a couple of my friends who actually did watch that film with the thought that they had the balls or rather lacked it to watch the damn thing. They left part of their sexuality in that theater that day and they know it.)

Remember the rumor one of the Spice girls is actually a woman? Or that Nick Carter has a vagina? The former proved to be true. The latter was slightly wrong. He didnt have a female genetalia. For Nick's case, he was the very embodiment of it.

These songs are dead and gone now. Even MTV's rewind wont play them and try to avoid the videos as much as possible like a retarded kid in the attic.

So how does the glamour fade? I can think of one idea. We wake the fuck up and decide we just have to grow an inch or two or a taste at some point in our doldrum lives.

But then again you walk into your old records and start thinking about the past.

You pick up the cassette laugh a bit of how it reminds you of back when you were young and stupid. Then maybe you laugh a bit some more while closing the door behind you. Then you'll fire up that old tape player while still laughing.

All clear.

Betcha you'd listen to them again anyway, for the sake of nostalgia.

And you'll realize it's still enjoyable.

See? You're still stupid afterall.

Incremental Quote Update

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

More quotes from work. I'm not sure regarding the date of some of these. I'll once again mention the obvious - not all quotes I post here should be taken to heart, and granted it is possible, that you take none of them seriously at all.

Take inspiration from the smallest of things, they won't know what hit them.

It's not the size of the hammer that counts. It's how you pound the screw with a bang.

If Im not with you, Im against you.

So a sad basketball player walks into a bar. The bartender asks, why so BLUE? (on Ateneo's failure to take the championship title against underdog UST)

I think it's safe to say that the world's best contraceptive is the palm of your right hand.

Nothing effectively seperates two lovers more than a restraining order. (on battered relationships)

I want you to stare at the works of the Christ. I want you to not blink. I want you to be able to say, "Shit, I can do better."

What have you got to lose? With a dick in your pants and the world at your fingertips the world is your brothel and you have a fivefingered discount from God! Go and multifuckingply.

Talking to you is like being sprayed on with a new type of cologne. It's called Stupid for Men.

I don't buy my friends. I get them free out of cereal boxes.

You must be that bored to find love entertaining.

I am a comet and you are my earth. Let's get smashed baby.

Long distance relationships are like abnormal babies. you cant avoid having to have them but as much as possible, reduce the risk of actually having one.


He got owned so badly, there's even a deed of sale to prove it.

He must've taken Cradle of Filth too seriously. His music sounds like a couch full of crap.

janusdust: You still do MMORPGs?
Jet: not in a while, but we're still dating.

Jet : hindi itinapon un. kasi you grow from experience.
Jet : walang nasasayang
Jet : some things are just not meant to work out, alam mo un.
Jet : we cant expect everything that happens to us to work out the way we dream them to work out
Lyra : omg,.. aray nmn
Jet : ganun lang talaga ang buhay.
Jet : planong natupad, planong napurnada. hindi importante kung alin ang alin
Jet : ang importante, may napupulot ka sa bawat nangyayari sayo
Jet : kasi hindi tayo pwede lagi na lang nagiisip kung ano ang pwede nating baguhin sa nakaraan
Jet : nakaraan na un diba? ang importante yung ngayon. ano na tayo ngayon>
Jet : yun lagi ko sinasabi sa kanya dati.
Jet : walang pagsubok na binibigay ang Diyos na hindi natin kayang lampasan.

Takot ako sa tubig. Samahan mo akong maligo please. (I'm afraid of water. Please shower with me.)

A Year-Old Letter

Sunday, October 15, 2006

You people might be thinking how I come up with all these things I post here. Maybe one of the reasons is having just as crazy people around me. This is a letter from my archives - almost exactly one year old. (permission obtained)

...I just pray that she feels the same way for you. Nonetheless, respect her the same way you respect Alex. Respect her the same way you respect me. You might not want to admit it but there's a gentleman inside you. Bring it out and make him take care of her. Even when she appears to be against you and the rest of the world already, treat her as you would me and my nasty personality. You have been trained by the world's #1 bitch after all.

Don't worry, I didn't send her any nasty emails. I want you to be with this girl and I want you to stick with her. Just try to keep your head above your heart. Take care of your body so you can take care of her. Rumz told me that you weren't sleeping anymore. Sleep is rest for the thinking mind and the aching heart. Accept it if it comes. If it doesn't, invite it. Sandman is not the devil; he is your friend.

Feel free to talk with me about this, okay? It's not like I'm still a stranger to you.

And because it would be against my principles to not cuss at least once in my letter,

Fuck you Jet.

To Riina, Heals, FatKat - Thank you very much for supporting me. I'd marry you if it weren't against my ideals to make pacts with the devil.


Friday, October 13, 2006

I know I shouldn't be making fun of dead people but I believe I've already stated before that dead and living people aren't much different other than one of them has a pulse. Both deserve respect and jokes, depending on the situation.

So, here's my take on the Cory Lidle and the forever nameless person he was riding with (Why can they find out who was sweeping the floor of the building where the plane crashed and NOT find out who the other guy is anyway? Is he Tupac's killer? Bin Laden?)

Apparently somebody decide to celebrate 9-11 by reenacting it.

I love the way the media sensationalizes a story like this. CNN played a special on it just this morning calling private planes "an open door to terrorism" and how "your building could be next" and how "a plane can be loaded with explosives and hijacked by terrorists."

Nobody ever thinks that altitude not taken into account (say this didnt happen on the 30th floor of the building but on the ground floor), this accident is no more than a vehicle malfunctioning and then slamming into somebody's home, killing the driver and whoever was riding shotgun. And then panic bullshit media sensationalism insists that any car could be a tool of terrorism.

Ding dong. Somebody's at the door. I think it's the UPS guy out to deliver this month's ration of common sense. He has a message and it says: Any thing can be loaded with bombs and turned into a terrorist plot device. Even a sandwich spread bottle.

God bless the UPS man.

As for the terrorists still thinking of using planes as an instrument of terrorism, do they even still exist? I mean if I knew there are cops expecting me to rob through the front door, wouldn't I find another way in?

I pity the guy from Homeland Security/Air Traffic Regulation Office who has to answer to the questions of security. His job will be the equivalent of finding a solution to making cars not hit households. I assume that after just one brainstorming session his mind would have waded on a flood of stupid ideas that may include:

- Constructing planes out of rubber.
- Attaching pillows on building surfaces.
- Gundams with antiaircraft laserblades.
- Force fields and Tractor beams.
- Attaching math exam papers on windows.
(they will ward off jock-type athletes at least)

And I thought my job was sucky.

My favorite article about the whole issue is this:

It says the plane has its own parachute but "apparently" it was never used. I don't think I have to elaborate why this sounds ironic.

Maybe after this they'll think of attaching airbags instead.

Big-ass airbags with big blow-outs.

Think we-didn't-win-the-world-series blowout.

That big.

Bloghammer Prelude

Thursday, October 12, 2006

I don't go back on my word. If I said I'll do something, I'll do it.

And I don't hind behind any alter-ego either.

I'm a go-getter person.

If I have a problem with your website, I'll post in your website.

Even if it means you start moping around because somebody took a mental dump on your comments page. If you think my comments are too harsh and you want to kill yourself for it, you probably deserve what's coming next.

And you'll be doing society a favor for doing that you feel like doing.

Go play sipa in traffic. Please.

Coming soon: Fully featured blogsites of awesome suckiness.

Significance Of The Last Piece

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Filipinos are generally weird.

By weird I don't mean repulsive like some other nationalities *cough*goddamnthatcurryisgettingthroughyourskin*cough*.

And by weird I don't mean excessively oh-my-god-we-should-dress-up-ass-bacteria weird. That's for the Japanese and the Japanese alone.

But we're weird. A foreigner would master the term "What the fuck." by the time he gets used to our living customs. We're not outrightly weird but it's the subtleties of the Filipino behaviour that will drive a foreigner crazy. (and yes, pointing at things using your lips and expressing seven different interjections using your eyebrows aren't practiced as much elsewhere)

Take for example a simple case of dining out with other Filipinos. Food is usually shared in large serving containers in a typical table scene. Correct me if I am wrong with my assumption here. We Filipinos, once naturalized with our companions, can turn into "patay gutoms" (life-and-death hungry bastards in local parlance) upon availing of that food.

It's like watching sharks feasting on raw cow meat. Don't get me wrong. This liveliness gives Filipino meals a spirit that you cant easily find elsewhere. By tradition, being energetic in eating as much as you can stuff in your stomach is polite.

But then again, when it comes right down to the last piece, nobody touches it. For every dish served, there's always one piece that gets left over. Whether it's a stick of french fries, a spoonful of rice, a piece of hotdog, a slice of cake - something always has to get left over.

You can split 8 pieces of chicken to 8 people and still find you have one left, defying any reason you can think of.

Forcing people to eat the last piece isn't any more an offer than it is an executive order. People come up with so many excuses before eating it. A foreigner joining such meal would think the last piece is poisoned.

Why? There's so many reasons why that happens, you just accept it that the last piece is high treason on a plate. One of the biggest reasons aside from last-touch-washes-the-plate is that eating the last piece means you're arrogant enough to deserve it. I cant help but think we subconsciously leave that piece behind just to see who the resident asshole of the dining table is.

If you don't believe me, try picking up the last piece and watch the cold-blooded-killer stares. If you're sensitive enough, that last piece will taste like poison.

But then again, leaving something behind upsets all the cosmic forces and will give you bad luck so someone has to do it. Someone has to clear the table.

Someone has to eat the last piece.

And for that, he becomes both the archvillain of the century and the hero who saves the world.
All in one bite. And it happens EVERY FREAKING MEAL.

Wait, did I say weird? I meant insane. My bad.

Technospeaking Sucks

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Sometimes I get to thinking that information technology technospeak has warped the English language so badly, it's almost as incomprehensible as an Irishman's English. It's like everything about technospeaking is perfectly sound, but there's enough jargon in every sentence to make the whole speech sound nonsensically retarded to about 95%++ of the human race. Take this for example:

We (I am one of the Spring core developers) always tell people it is not the end of the world if they use Struts (or another web framework) with Spring for lower-layers and the IOC, instead of Spring MVC. That said, having used both Struts and Spring MVC, there is absolutely no question in my mind that unless you can't afford a few extra days to learn Spring MVC (assuming you already know Struts) that Spring MVC is simply a much better choice. The rich binding of HTML form elements to complex nested form or domain objects alone will save large amounts of time compared to Struts's very weak binding. Struts also forces you to use special form objects even if you have perfectly good domain objects. Spring also has relatively sophisticated command and form controllers, and the ability to apply interceptors to controllers, somehting you can't do in struts. Spring is also not tied to JSP, allowing you to use Velocity, Freemarker, or other alternatives to JSP. While JSP 2.0 allows a cleaner web page building experience than previous versions, the reality is it's still got some major issues, such as how weak and crippled JSTL is. I find with JSTL I constantly have to jump through hoops to access model data. There's a number of other areas where Spring MVC is just designed better...

Understand anything? I barely understand half of what's written here. This coming from another programmer using the same language. And no, it's not because I'm conditionally retarded. There just comes a point for some technology (i.e. Java Programming Language) to have a learning curve that's so damn high, you can't understand a sentence without having to search google for a term midway.

I think it's time we got back to our roots. To what communication means. The bare essentials, you know? Like we should avoid complicating very simple things.

As an example, I'd like to translate what's written above to what can easily be understood by all, in seven words:

My penis is larger than your penis.

Yet Another Prologue

Monday, October 09, 2006

This is another prologue of a still untitled sci-fi thriller that's queued in the pipeline right after Wanted: Full-Support Priestess. Setting is modern-day Philippines and the plot is fashioned with a lot of local intricacies, truths, and myths.

I think I'll give this story a title right now.

Altered Amplified Attribution.

Project: AlAmAt


Prologue: The Bataan Nuclear Power Plant

Perhaps there is no single government expenditure that is more monumentally disastrous and unsually missed by public scrutiny than the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant project.

The Bataan Nuclear Power Plant (BNP) came about from a presidential decree from the then President Ferdinand Marcos to stem the effects of the 1973 oil crisis by reducing dependency on imported oil.

Sited at Morong, Bataan - a comfortable 68 kilometres north of the national capital of Manila, the BNP was targetted to use some 620 megawatts of power using Westinghouse lightwater reactors at the cost of 600 million dollars. The project was completed in 1984, pending only government payment of 2.3 billion dollars (boosted due to controversial allegations of corruption between goverment and westinghouse officials)

Upon inspection of the powerplant by the Aquino Administration replacing the Marcos Administration, the powerplant as deemed too unsafe for operations and was completely abandoned.

Active enriched uranium stored onsite for use was reportedly sold off to bidders from China in a closed-session bid while the lightwater reactor stays unoperated today at the cost of 150,000 dollars worth of interest and system maintenance.

Further attempts to revive the plan to resurrect the plant have all ended in futility as the new Philippine Constitution of 1986 prevents usage of any form of nuclear power in the country.

There have been plans from both the government and interested corporate parties to convert the derelict plant into a fossil-fuel driven plant for the past ten years but as of writing, there has been no such development.

Debt repayment and maintenance has been the country's single biggest obligation ever since, without the plant ever producing a single watt of usuable electricity for its owners.

According to the latest employment manifesto, the plant employs no fewer than twenty employees, with functions ranging from the shifting perimeter guards to site monitoring engineers required by the IAEA. Among these employees are two geneticists whose job description is to "monitor mutation levels" of its employees from within the plant's bowels.

There are no known stockpiles of radioactive materials onsite in the Bataan Nuclear Powerplant.


Sunday, October 08, 2006

So my sister and I were talking about the lost traditions of the past a few days ago. One of them, she was bayanihan, literally meaning "heroism". As kids we were taught that the best example of this is a group of men trying to move a house using their bare arms.

As a kid I've always questioned motives as to why a house has to be moved specially since back in the day, there wasn't really much "prime estate" to choose from, the only things around you were muddy roads and rice fields. But that's besides the point.

As for the picture being drawn like communist propaganda, don't ask me. I have no fucking idea either.

Anyway, going back to the topic, she told me Filipinos are outsmarting one another now, stealing and scamming their fellowmen. They are not helping each other in the same spirit as the picture shows us anymore.

I looked at the picture hard and figured the puzzle out.

The tradition didn't disappear. We were just reading our cards wrong.

I mean, nobody ever mentioned the house belonged to anyone of those men.

At least, not yet.

I mean, if it takes 3 men to steal/rob/snatch a cellular phone, it's only logistically right to have more men on the job when stealing the house of some douche from the next village.

I imagine poor Mario going back at the end of the day working at the fields screaming:

"Where the FUCK is my house?"

Bayanihan, bitch. Welcome to the Philippines.

Sneezing and God

Friday, October 06, 2006

Hey lookie! Jet's made an internet quiz!

1) When an atheist sneezes, can you say "God Bless You"?
a) Yes, because God wills it.
b) Yes, because it's more of a saying than divine blessing.
c) No, because atheists have their right to their beliefs.
d) No, you should shoot them in the face with a handgun.

2) Does he have a right to be offended?
a) Yes, because you have to respect his beliefs.
b) No, because being offended over something so trivial makes him an oversenstive cock.
c) Dead people cannot be offended. This is a trick question since I answered D for number 1.

I don't know why it has to be an issue when an atheist sneezes or at least why we even bother saying "God bless you" when anybody sneezes for that matter. For atheists, what's the deal? Does not believing in a God require you to act like a total douche in society too by not following customs just so you can break free of the manipulative theocratic rule in our world?

I've already laid my case against the atheists, or at least the badly behaving majority of them. You cocks are ruining it for the remaining 2% of your population. It's like you don't believe in God but you'd rather believe anything else, no matter how much it's just as ridiculous, tarrot cards, palmistry, energy blah blah astrology or some other craphut belief system and still not be able to formulate your own deductions regarding your own beliefs. So start quoting your academic idols against me. I'd love to mentally die of copy-paste poisoning.

As if it can't get worse, they insist that they be treated differently for their beliefs. Like they'd shove it down your throat that hearing the word "God" directed to them is a crime against their rights. They're being overassertive, period. You can't spell assertive without ass and you can't say the sentence "Atheists are overassertive cocks." without mentioning "atheist" and "cock".

And what is up with "God bless you" everytime you sneeze anyway? Don't you mean "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH WHEN YOU'RE SNEEZING!" instead of asking your divine ruler to go bless whoever spat saliva and a couple of thousand bacteria on your face? Stop the hypocrisy and break that stupid tradition.

Can you imagine a God that really reacts to that kind of saying? I can't. It'd look ridiculous no matter how dignified I want to think of it. I can't imagine an all-powerful, all-knowing God saying "Oh man, Jet sneezed and somebody ordered me to bless him. I better do it at once, because who knows, a second sneeze might follow. We dont want that now, do we?"

That's just brontosaurus-retarded.

Oh and please, don't go on ranting about "it's tradition" because jebus, it's stupid. Stupid traditions are meant to die off. You just have to do your part by not passing the retardation on.

God bless you.

Look For Ugly And Love It For Real

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Ang hirap siguro maging maganda, hindi madaling magpakumbaba,
na kung ang umaawit pwedeng tumahimik
at ang matalino ay pwedeng magtangatangahan,
ang maganda ay sadyang maganda kahit balibaligtarin mo ang mundo.
Kaaakitan, kaiingitan, kasalanan na hindi maipagkakaila.
Oo, pagkat sa kalawakan ng muhi at pagnanasa,
kasalanan ang ipanganak ka ng maganda
at makita ito ng lahat ng taong hindi makakakamit ng meron ka.

Kasalanan ang maging maganda.

At isang pangit na tulad ko ang iyong kapatawaran.

*padadadadumps dumps demk badumps*

Humanap ka ng panget, at ibigin mong tunay.

Notes for non-Filipino readers:
Once again, please excuse me for being rustic. Normal ESL-standard posting will resume after this post. For translations, message me in YM (redkinoko).

Elevator Action

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

In life, there are a few things that I see in the movies that I expect to happen to me personally. Saving a damsel in distress is one of them. Getting stuck in an island full of bikini-clad Victoria's Secret models is one of them. Ruling the world aboard a satellite planet constructed out of modeling plastic with enough power to wipe out the earth is one of them.

I'll tell you what's not one of those dreams.


*ahem* I never even remotely thought that was possible with all the modern technology we have. Apparently, safety features are for movies. I'd feel like such an action hero right now if I had a leading lady in my arms.

But it's not like I've experienced drops like that before. I regularly ride rollercoasters and those rides that shoot you up in the air and then let your seat freefall with only your harness preventing you from a very embarassing death. No big deal - except that for those occassions, you have a seatbelt on and you can be assured that what's happening is "normal".

Apparently having the same thing done to you on an ordinary elevator isn't as fun. I literally dropped to my knees because of the impact. In fact, it was nowhere near fun. More like "I'm going to have fun mutilating whoever I can blame for this little incident."

So I rode another elevator down (a working one) and headed over to management.

At the management, I was greeted by one of the admin who could easy have won the Grumpies without competition. She was, to my memory, the same wiseass who told me before to keep my own phonelines "safe" so it can't get accidentally cut by their technicians again when I just asked for a simple log system for all workers entering the telcomms closet. What "safe" means, I still don't know. It must be a marijuanna thing.

Anyway, I tell her the elevator 1 is broken. I think part of me died when I heard her reply. "We know. The repairmen arrived earlier. They say it's probably from the broken controls." Great.

So here's a person who actually knows the elevator is broken, and sits idly in front of a TV monitoring system that routinely shows the reaction of people who try to ride the broken ele-fucking-vator.

Am I in a freak reality TV show of sorts? Are those cameras being fed to commercial TV? Is it that much fun to watch people being dropped a couple of floors?

At the back of my head, I tried to rationalize. Maybe she's not that sadistic. Maybe there's a reason for everything. So I ask, "Then why are you still allowing people to use Elevator #1?"

All logic went out of the window after her reply. I was too stunned to even give a nice reply. By nice I mean "So-help-me-god-you-will-be-sleeping-in-the-streets-for-your-stupidity" kind of reply.

She said "A lot of people need to use the elevators. We don't want them inconvenienced."

Right then and there, I was convinced. Satan has a dayjob.

Dead or Alive the Movie (a review)

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

(alternative title: A Series of Completely Random Events)

I don't see how you can take an eye-candy game filled to the brim with nerd fantasy fetish-flavoured characters and barely any existing story to work with and still go wrong.

I won't say this movie is a failure. It's not. But it's no Oscar-winning entry either. Here are the abridged comments I made during the viewing of the film (by comment, I mean yell-out-loud comments inside a silent theater kind of thing)

- Ayane (far right of the picture) ingame is a cute badass reminiscent of Evangelion's Rei Ayanami. The Ayane in the film looks like that weird American gothtard doing cosplay and failing miserably. Cosplay is a birthright-bestowed activity reserved for Asians. Stereotypes don't just pop out of nowhere, you know.

- Kasumi. Kasumi. Kasumi. (far left) Good work on the hair and makeup. Utter failure in the cupsize department, which is, ironically, probably the real reason why Dead Or Alive the game actually sells twice more than it should. Also, I've never seen Kasumi so dressed in my entire life. I almost feel like she's lost the will to do stripfighting and just turn into a nun. Still, Devon Aoki is cute in the outfit, even though she looks like she hasn't eaten anything in months.

- Hayabusa, Kasumi's pansy brother (a man, so not in the picture) is a joke. Game or movie, doesn't matter. Why do they even bother with this guy? He spends half the movie time in prison and the other half getting beaten up by the bad guys. When he gets rescued by Ayame (who for some gothtard reason digs him), he just disappears even though he was hellbent in rescuing kasumi only 5 minutes before. Behold the power of randomness.

- The bad guy is probably the worst ever. He's really really bad. By bad I don't mean villainy. I mean badly designed. For all the technology and budget in the world, they still managed to create an antagonist that's actually about as intimidating as a cardboard cut-out outside a GNC shop.

- The rest of the ingame characters do cameos. The movie tries to build them up a little by giving them short backstories, but fail to deliver afterwards since nothing ever gets resolved after they get defeated. (you dont even know where they go after they lose in the island tournament)

- The story? What story? First thirty minutes are spent introducing the characters in completely unrelated events. Next thirty minutes are spent showing the characters in sexual innuendos with their "love teams". Whatever is remaining gets spent on booty shots, more booty shots and some semblance of fighting (with lots of booty shots). Some movies have storylines so complex, you get lost in them. Dead or Live has a storyline so random, you just lose the plot entirely.

- This film is not deep or profound so I find it just right to not mention anything about acting - or the lack of it.

Still, given the timetravelling chance of being able to convince my past self 12 hours earlier to not watch the film, I'd let myself watch anyway, because like I said, I don't see how turning an eyecandy game with no story at all into an eyecandy movie with no story at all can go wrong.

You just can't. Like kissing your own elbow.

If there's anything slightly better than random, it's random with lots of tits.

Oh and yeah, this article has spoilers (not that it matters)

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