And then I woke up sunday morning, expecting a refreshed and relaxed feeling. Wrong again. I could barely lift my arms up as I try doing my daily morning routine of reaching my toes, my knees, my shoulders, my head (come on, sing with me. I'm sure you know the lyrics), my toes, my knees, my shoulders, my head (repeat twice or until you're bored) so early in the morning!
I've never felt such muscle soreness on my upper back before. I'm used to the feeling of soreness on my legs during my soccer-playing-goal-scoring days which was so long ago, but never felt pain on my upper back. Maybe it's because you don't use your back for ball kicking or my back didn't get hit much by the ball, or maybe it's because of the massage I had last night. I'm sure if you read the second part of the body massage mini-series, you would have jumped to the same conlcusion.
Another prediction come true. I spent the rest of sunday recuperating due to saturday night's activities. Since i could barely move, I just lied the entire day (I know it's bad to be a compulsive liar but hey, I have to lie alot today to get things done. For example: Hey, could you please get me a glass of water? I can't leave the bed now since I'm trying to bind this book which I put under the mattress. I have to sit on it until the glue dries. Another: Hey, could you please turn on the electric fan? I'm feeling warm and I'm afraid of moving an inch as it might raise my body temperature even higher. Could you please? And many others which is even more unbelievable. I hope these examples showed pretty much how I lied around the entire day)
So there, another boring day for the mild-mannered programmer...
...I was about to end here but I thought fans of these blog might wonder where the exciting part two of the body massage story. Was there sex? Was the mild-mannered programmer butt-slapped or cheek-slapped? Are programmers now banned from shiatsu centers? You'll know in the near future. According to what I've read somewhere, there seem to be a law of diminishing returns regarding stories with sequels. For example, Matrix did better than Matrix Reloaded, which did better than Matrix Revolution. So I thought of doing part three first. Another example, George Lucas made star wars part 4,5 and 6 first then did 1, 2, 3. So I decided to be a bit original and did part 1 first, then part 3, then finally part 2. How about that? A dose of original story telling style from me. So I'll end here and do part 2 next sunday while I do one of my latest favorite hobby, observing my hit counter.
Sunday, December 12
Thursday, December 9
Part 1: Body Massage
It's been a while since I tested this frail but well sculpted body of mine to strenous physical activities (I managed to sculpt a six-packed abdominals using a dull butter knife. I won't tell you the gory details but I encourage you to try it and let me blog your results). Imagine this, after periods of rest after the removal of my vessels of wisdom (Who would ever thought minute brain cells could be found inside our third molars?), I played fast-paced badminton for an hour and a half followed by another hour of elbow-smashing, crotch grabbing basketball. Sometime in between sets, I could feel burning sensations on my legs which I knew is the build up of lactic acid brought upon by the anerobic activity of my leg muscles due to the lack of oxygen rich blood reaching my quadriceps.
I should have gone home but since today's saturday (which means I can still gimik out and have the rest of sunday to recuperate my to-be-abused but cared-for body), I decided to go out with some of my not-as-mild-mannered-as-I-am programmer friends, and they are Jonah Lanos and Narven Hevier. I'm not stating their full names even though they did injustice to me this night.
It all started after dinner at around 10pm.
After text invites and gimik-asking queries were rejected (Tine has to visit a friend in the hospital, Phil decided to go out for dinner with his classmates, Maylin who's celebrating her birthday decided to sleep the night away), I meekly suggested a massage session as I can feel the growing intensity of muscle soreness. You might be wondering, three tostesterone-filled guys out on a saturday night for a massage? While this might sound as a start of a night of immoral sex with beautiful strangers who fronts as masseurs, it isn't. Though I'm tempted to write it as if to show off a life full of sex, drugs, love, excitement, thrill and alcohol, I'm writing just what really transpires in the life of a mild-mannered programmer.
We finally drove to this shiatsu joint beside rizal promenade (I'm was about to call it a massage parlor but I don't want you to think of things you associate with such words). PHP250 for 1.5 hours of full body massage, sounds fair to me. While I've never had strangers stroke my whole body before, I was quite enthusiastic and hesitant at the same time. Enthusiastic due to good experiences of friends who have had massages before, hesitant since I'm not wearing any underwear tonight. I wore one hours ago, but due to dripping sweat that collected there during the afternoon's activities, I just have to remove it as not to provide a medium for new single celled life forms to generate and I just forgot to bring extras. (I assume we're all adults here, according to what i've read and heard, man's testicles were designed to hang (sa bisaya pa, nagbitay). And they (the testicles), are quite smart too. To regulate its temperature, the scrotum would firm up so that the testicles stay close to the body for heat during low temperatures and would stay away and intentionally sag during times of warmth. We can safely conlude that tight fitting underwears and pants are a no-no for efficient sperm cell production. That's why I prefer boxers to panties ...ehrm... briefs, which I unintentionally forgot this night (but still, supporters should be a must during springy/jumpy/movey activities, you don't want your gonads reaching 'til your knees when you grow old don't you?).
The absence of underware shouldn't be an issue during the massage. Narven said, the last time they had a massage, shorts were handed out. He was wrong this time.
To be continued...
I should have gone home but since today's saturday (which means I can still gimik out and have the rest of sunday to recuperate my to-be-abused but cared-for body), I decided to go out with some of my not-as-mild-mannered-as-I-am programmer friends, and they are Jonah Lanos and Narven Hevier. I'm not stating their full names even though they did injustice to me this night.
It all started after dinner at around 10pm.
After text invites and gimik-asking queries were rejected (Tine has to visit a friend in the hospital, Phil decided to go out for dinner with his classmates, Maylin who's celebrating her birthday decided to sleep the night away), I meekly suggested a massage session as I can feel the growing intensity of muscle soreness. You might be wondering, three tostesterone-filled guys out on a saturday night for a massage? While this might sound as a start of a night of immoral sex with beautiful strangers who fronts as masseurs, it isn't. Though I'm tempted to write it as if to show off a life full of sex, drugs, love, excitement, thrill and alcohol, I'm writing just what really transpires in the life of a mild-mannered programmer.
We finally drove to this shiatsu joint beside rizal promenade (I'm was about to call it a massage parlor but I don't want you to think of things you associate with such words). PHP250 for 1.5 hours of full body massage, sounds fair to me. While I've never had strangers stroke my whole body before, I was quite enthusiastic and hesitant at the same time. Enthusiastic due to good experiences of friends who have had massages before, hesitant since I'm not wearing any underwear tonight. I wore one hours ago, but due to dripping sweat that collected there during the afternoon's activities, I just have to remove it as not to provide a medium for new single celled life forms to generate and I just forgot to bring extras. (I assume we're all adults here, according to what i've read and heard, man's testicles were designed to hang (sa bisaya pa, nagbitay). And they (the testicles), are quite smart too. To regulate its temperature, the scrotum would firm up so that the testicles stay close to the body for heat during low temperatures and would stay away and intentionally sag during times of warmth. We can safely conlude that tight fitting underwears and pants are a no-no for efficient sperm cell production. That's why I prefer boxers to panties ...ehrm... briefs, which I unintentionally forgot this night (but still, supporters should be a must during springy/jumpy/movey activities, you don't want your gonads reaching 'til your knees when you grow old don't you?).
The absence of underware shouldn't be an issue during the massage. Narven said, the last time they had a massage, shorts were handed out. He was wrong this time.
To be continued...
Tuesday, December 7
The Gender Bias
I'm really sorry for the readers who have been visiting this page thrice every hour expecting a new entry. I know this thanks to that hightech, invisible, and multithreading hit counter which captures every information about the visitors of this page from your internet habits, hobbies, current hairstyle to even what you're wearing right now. (I see you wearing that french maid outfit while surfing, how kinky)
I haven't really thought of setting a regular time to write for my blog. I just write when i feel like writing, but since i have amassed lots of readers who read this blog if ever they feel like reading, there must be some order to this. Starting today, I'll set my sunday mornings as my blog writing time and sunday afternoons as blog posting time so you can set any time after sunday afternoon as your new blog reading time. Ha! I assume to much that people actually read this. Assuming too much is not a quality of a mild mannered programmer like I pretend to be, so i'll stop now. It's not sunday today but I feel like writing now. If you're not yet ready to read, you can safely close this window and come back a little later. I'll still be here. Pramis.
My friends and I took some time, last friday Dec3, to watch the exhibit of four local short films at gmall. With the untrained eye I have for films, I found them quite good. Being the short films that they are, which leaves them little air time for the usual pinoy mid-film dance routine by the lead actors and a bunch of strangers who amazingly know the dance steps to that impromptu dance in the park, the films focused on showing their insights on the human condition and realities.
If I'm not mistaken, I'm probably correct in saying that two of the four films had a gay inspired/related plot while the two others showed that things that does not kill you make you stronger. I'm not going to try to movie critic here, I'm just voicing out opinions here.
I was about to give a summary of the short films but I fortunately remembered this is no term paper. I'll just pick up a line that i find interesting. According to one of the short films, I can't remember the exact words but I hope I got the idea right, people who are intellectually and artistically inclined tend to be gay since they have transcended the gender bias. The actor, who is a bisexual engineer in the film, then proceeded to name geniuses of the past who were gay like Da Vinci, Michelangelo and others whose names were to greeky to pronounce correctly.
Is there some truth in such statements? Maybe. But let me get some things straight, being gay doesn't necessarily mean genius and inclination to the arts, it's being intellectual and artistic that makes one inclined to be gay. So am I gay? Wrong question, am I intelligent? Well, I belonged to the honor's class back in elementary. Maybe I am intelligent. Am I artistic? Uhm... I once had a voltron drawing back in grade three that was chosen by my art teacher as one of the most color coordinated. So I guess I am artistic. Have i transcended the gender bias? Hmm.. what does it take to transcend the gender bias?
I really don't know, but then again, we never really defined what being gay is, and I'm not going to.
I haven't really thought of setting a regular time to write for my blog. I just write when i feel like writing, but since i have amassed lots of readers who read this blog if ever they feel like reading, there must be some order to this. Starting today, I'll set my sunday mornings as my blog writing time and sunday afternoons as blog posting time so you can set any time after sunday afternoon as your new blog reading time. Ha! I assume to much that people actually read this. Assuming too much is not a quality of a mild mannered programmer like I pretend to be, so i'll stop now. It's not sunday today but I feel like writing now. If you're not yet ready to read, you can safely close this window and come back a little later. I'll still be here. Pramis.
My friends and I took some time, last friday Dec3, to watch the exhibit of four local short films at gmall. With the untrained eye I have for films, I found them quite good. Being the short films that they are, which leaves them little air time for the usual pinoy mid-film dance routine by the lead actors and a bunch of strangers who amazingly know the dance steps to that impromptu dance in the park, the films focused on showing their insights on the human condition and realities.
If I'm not mistaken, I'm probably correct in saying that two of the four films had a gay inspired/related plot while the two others showed that things that does not kill you make you stronger. I'm not going to try to movie critic here, I'm just voicing out opinions here.
I was about to give a summary of the short films but I fortunately remembered this is no term paper. I'll just pick up a line that i find interesting. According to one of the short films, I can't remember the exact words but I hope I got the idea right, people who are intellectually and artistically inclined tend to be gay since they have transcended the gender bias. The actor, who is a bisexual engineer in the film, then proceeded to name geniuses of the past who were gay like Da Vinci, Michelangelo and others whose names were to greeky to pronounce correctly.
Is there some truth in such statements? Maybe. But let me get some things straight, being gay doesn't necessarily mean genius and inclination to the arts, it's being intellectual and artistic that makes one inclined to be gay. So am I gay? Wrong question, am I intelligent? Well, I belonged to the honor's class back in elementary. Maybe I am intelligent. Am I artistic? Uhm... I once had a voltron drawing back in grade three that was chosen by my art teacher as one of the most color coordinated. So I guess I am artistic. Have i transcended the gender bias? Hmm.. what does it take to transcend the gender bias?
I really don't know, but then again, we never really defined what being gay is, and I'm not going to.
Wednesday, December 1
Strumming My Pain
If you have been listening to AM radio news broadcasts (99.879% don't because they are unaware of their existence), reading the local online news (97.564% don't, they only use the net for chatting, friendstering and pornsurfing), reading the local newspapers (67.9% of the readers only scans the comic pages), listening to FM news break announcements (49.543% don't since their ipod or pc plays mp3s), watching the tv (10% don't have access to television), reading my blog (1.23% don't because they are totally uncool), gossiping (0.00% don't because the pinoys are by nature rumor-mongers and gossipy), then you should be aware of the great flood that happened somewhere north in the luzon region. But I presume you're not here to read about such sad things. So let me begin today's blog. (By the way, the statistics used above are rounded off the nearest thousandths, providing you the most accurate numbers possible as my fingers randomly hits the most convenient number keys on this keyboard. Please do use them as reference in alcohol drinking/rubbing sessions as to show an illusion of smartness during high levels of intoxication).
Are you aware that today, December 1 is the most important day of the year next to christmas? Well, today is National Aids Day! Lotsa things happen on a National Aids Day. Lemme tell you what occured to me this day 9 years ago... nuni nuni nuni nuni (background music of remembering..)
Nine (9) years ago, my mom gave me the best National Aids Day present, an acoustic guitar. I was 2nd year highschool back then (i'm now 20 so minus 9, I was 11 years old back then. I got accelerated numerous times in nursery and prep) and the rage among students were banding (banding = getting into or forming bands, or combos as my grandma would call it). I immediatley formed my own ..ehrm.. a one man band a.k.a solo artist. I named my 'band,' the ronald rojas experience. And believe me, it was quite an experience! Every night thereafter, I would retreat to my room, pick up my guitar, choose a compilation of musical pieces (more popularly known today as songhits) and strumm away for my audiences of lizards, ants, dust mites, bed bugs, roaches, and any living creature cohabiting with me inside the room.
It's not so often you recieve a life-altering gift on National Aids Day. During highschool when everyone is trying to look cool, popular, charming, intelligent (Yes, this can be done. there is a certain combination of clothing accessories that brings about an aura of intelligence, just don't speak too much as not to blow off your cover), the idea that I could play the guitar gave me the smug feeling that I am cool inspite of my scrawny frame, zit-infested face, totally uncool haircut. Though I didn't get into a real band, because I wasn't cool enough, I practiced a lot and consistently performed to my multi-specie fans.
But I did get into a band. (Let's end this blog on a happy note) I played lead guitar for the band named Joyride and did a gig in A.S. parking lot of UP. we were offered 50K for the gig but we turned it down and insisted that we were there just for the love of music and performing. I left the band since my studies got in the way and I was forcibly transferred to ateneo. In davao, I played lead guitar for the band called Fingerbang and we did a christmas party gig somewhere in monte maria. Again, we were offered 50K for our efforts but we turned it down saying: we're just here for the chicks and the free booze. Later we found out that the chicks were taken, and the free booze, warm. (Note to self:whenever you're offered money for mediocre performance, ACCEPT IT!)
This time, this band kinda disbanded because of a love triangle and clash of musical interests. Because of the unavailability of female creatures during our last gig, the drummer and bassist decided to pour their attentions on our male vocalist. But to their dismay, our vocalist is straight, btw who had a hard time explaining to both as not to hurt their feelings. On the musical interest side, the bassist insisted on more bass solos while the drummer preferred more drum solos. So there, no official resignation was recieved by our non-existent band manager which technically proclaims that Fingerbang is currently intact. Oh well...
You might wonder what is the point that i'm driving at. It is: play music and donate to the flash flood victims.
Are you aware that today, December 1 is the most important day of the year next to christmas? Well, today is National Aids Day! Lotsa things happen on a National Aids Day. Lemme tell you what occured to me this day 9 years ago... nuni nuni nuni nuni (background music of remembering..)
Nine (9) years ago, my mom gave me the best National Aids Day present, an acoustic guitar. I was 2nd year highschool back then (i'm now 20 so minus 9, I was 11 years old back then. I got accelerated numerous times in nursery and prep) and the rage among students were banding (banding = getting into or forming bands, or combos as my grandma would call it). I immediatley formed my own ..ehrm.. a one man band a.k.a solo artist. I named my 'band,' the ronald rojas experience. And believe me, it was quite an experience! Every night thereafter, I would retreat to my room, pick up my guitar, choose a compilation of musical pieces (more popularly known today as songhits) and strumm away for my audiences of lizards, ants, dust mites, bed bugs, roaches, and any living creature cohabiting with me inside the room.
It's not so often you recieve a life-altering gift on National Aids Day. During highschool when everyone is trying to look cool, popular, charming, intelligent (Yes, this can be done. there is a certain combination of clothing accessories that brings about an aura of intelligence, just don't speak too much as not to blow off your cover), the idea that I could play the guitar gave me the smug feeling that I am cool inspite of my scrawny frame, zit-infested face, totally uncool haircut. Though I didn't get into a real band, because I wasn't cool enough, I practiced a lot and consistently performed to my multi-specie fans.
But I did get into a band. (Let's end this blog on a happy note) I played lead guitar for the band named Joyride and did a gig in A.S. parking lot of UP. we were offered 50K for the gig but we turned it down and insisted that we were there just for the love of music and performing. I left the band since my studies got in the way and I was forcibly transferred to ateneo. In davao, I played lead guitar for the band called Fingerbang and we did a christmas party gig somewhere in monte maria. Again, we were offered 50K for our efforts but we turned it down saying: we're just here for the chicks and the free booze. Later we found out that the chicks were taken, and the free booze, warm. (Note to self:whenever you're offered money for mediocre performance, ACCEPT IT!)
This time, this band kinda disbanded because of a love triangle and clash of musical interests. Because of the unavailability of female creatures during our last gig, the drummer and bassist decided to pour their attentions on our male vocalist. But to their dismay, our vocalist is straight, btw who had a hard time explaining to both as not to hurt their feelings. On the musical interest side, the bassist insisted on more bass solos while the drummer preferred more drum solos. So there, no official resignation was recieved by our non-existent band manager which technically proclaims that Fingerbang is currently intact. Oh well...
You might wonder what is the point that i'm driving at. It is: play music and donate to the flash flood victims.
Friday, November 26
The Mother of All Censorships
I have bad news today. I tried not to, but I failed. I actually did something productive today. I'm not gonna mention what they were because I don't want to waste a line (maybe just 5 or 6 words) of such sense on this blog. I know most of you here for the sense that I will not be making.
But on to today's story...
I recently installed a new and working counter at home during yesterday's transport strike. (Don't you just hate those militant groups for their sense of timing? They could have set the strike today so that we can have a four day weekend. Haaay, life is never perfect) I intended to load the page early today so I can watch it tick one by one by one, but work got in the way. Sheesh. But before work disturbed my real work of online activities of ym, friendster, blogging and porn browsing, I managed to post on pareng friendster's bulletin board a desperate plea for readers. I spammed every egroup I belong to of my delusional case of writing ability. And after some work was done, I checked the supposedly working counter and it seems that I have succeeded and fooled people into really reading this blog. To be honest, when I noticed the blog counter turn 27, I could feel my pupils dilate, perspiration forming under my armpits, nipples hardened (these nipples were not mine but those on the baby bottles I put inside the freezer a while ago. I really don't know why but i really felt them hardened at this time, some kind of extra-sensory-perception-thingy with the frigidaire maybe), my ears fill with blood due to the realizations that 1.) Spamming unfortunately works 2.) My blog is actually generating internet traffic! Imagine that! 27 unique visitors in the span of 8 hours. I was also cheerless at that time. I don't want to be responsible for bringing the internet to a crawl by generating such amount of traffic. Imagine that, 27 people in 8 hours. Whew, the whole idea still eludes me.
But on to worse news... I have been told that the most-powerful-one- woman-censor-committee- ever-known-to-the- mild-mannered-programmer has been informed of the existence of this site. My mudra is now reading this blog so that from now on I have to watch what I type, what I say. I'm really sorry for the 27 captivated audience who will never enjoy cheeky comments and randy phrases I am still to write. I was too desperate for readers that I also asked mudra to take a peek not remembering the authority she holds over the mild-mannered-first-born offspring. Oh well...
I know that I should make little sense somehow that is also somehow related to the topic of mothers and censorship. Let see... Let me try my stuff at making sense...
What if! What if the mtrcb be composed of the mothers of the directors who create those storyless, sex-action-packed, hiding behind the principle of freedom of the arts, would that work? Maybe not since those mothers failed at hiding the idea fromm their offsprings that sex sells. What a really weak argument don't you think? Sheesh, I suck at trying to make sense. May be next time...
But on to today's story...
I recently installed a new and working counter at home during yesterday's transport strike. (Don't you just hate those militant groups for their sense of timing? They could have set the strike today so that we can have a four day weekend. Haaay, life is never perfect) I intended to load the page early today so I can watch it tick one by one by one, but work got in the way. Sheesh. But before work disturbed my real work of online activities of ym, friendster, blogging and porn browsing, I managed to post on pareng friendster's bulletin board a desperate plea for readers. I spammed every egroup I belong to of my delusional case of writing ability. And after some work was done, I checked the supposedly working counter and it seems that I have succeeded and fooled people into really reading this blog. To be honest, when I noticed the blog counter turn 27, I could feel my pupils dilate, perspiration forming under my armpits, nipples hardened (these nipples were not mine but those on the baby bottles I put inside the freezer a while ago. I really don't know why but i really felt them hardened at this time, some kind of extra-sensory-perception-thingy with the frigidaire maybe), my ears fill with blood due to the realizations that 1.) Spamming unfortunately works 2.) My blog is actually generating internet traffic! Imagine that! 27 unique visitors in the span of 8 hours. I was also cheerless at that time. I don't want to be responsible for bringing the internet to a crawl by generating such amount of traffic. Imagine that, 27 people in 8 hours. Whew, the whole idea still eludes me.
But on to worse news... I have been told that the most-powerful-one- woman-censor-committee- ever-known-to-the- mild-mannered-programmer has been informed of the existence of this site. My mudra is now reading this blog so that from now on I have to watch what I type, what I say. I'm really sorry for the 27 captivated audience who will never enjoy cheeky comments and randy phrases I am still to write. I was too desperate for readers that I also asked mudra to take a peek not remembering the authority she holds over the mild-mannered-first-born offspring. Oh well...
I know that I should make little sense somehow that is also somehow related to the topic of mothers and censorship. Let see... Let me try my stuff at making sense...
What if! What if the mtrcb be composed of the mothers of the directors who create those storyless, sex-action-packed, hiding behind the principle of freedom of the arts, would that work? Maybe not since those mothers failed at hiding the idea fromm their offsprings that sex sells. What a really weak argument don't you think? Sheesh, I suck at trying to make sense. May be next time...
Wednesday, November 24
Why Am I Reading This Blog?
One of the most important questions ever asked in the history of kind men (Is this the same with mankind?). People have gone crazy trying to fathom the depths of the question, the people who survived after trying to formulate answers are still frothing saliva in big bubbles. Yes... why am I reading this blog? This query goes with the questions: What is the meaning of life? What makes man truly human? Babae ka ba talaga? Lalake ba talaga ako, then why does it feel good when ...uhm... I'll leave the rest to your imagination. But if you are thinking what I'm thinking, you're perverted.
I actually do not know, if people really are reading this blog. Friends I meet say: nakakatuwa blog mo ron, parang totoong buhay. But I just put in a hit counter (for non-technical persons who might be reading this blog like the mang chong, iyong kapitbahay namin na hardiner/gardenero, ung hit counter supposedly counts the number of times the page has been fetched or read online), and the god damned hit counter always reads 2! Dalawa lang ba talaga nagbabasa nito? Kung ako iyong isa, sino ka then? Magpakilala ka!
*Update Nov25: I installed a new counter which seems to be working. Now, it reads zero. Ha!*
Since I am assured that at least another person is reading this blog, I would like to hand out a reward to the other reader of this blog, imaginary or otherwise.
Ever heard of gmail? Google's foray into email hosting. if I did this html page right, here is thelink . To summarize, gmail is a free web based email (pop access is also possible, to nontechies out there, go shoot yourself) with 1000mb or 1 Gb of space. According to google, this space will be enough for all you email messages for ...uhm... some time before you'll ever need to delete a message. For detailed information, do me a favor and go click on the link and read.
Well as of now, the people who can avail of the service can only do so if invited by someone who already has one. And I do have one and I am privileged enough to invite some people. I was thinking of inviting people who has done me favors (sexual or otherwise), but I also wanted to also invite females. So invites are up for grabs for people who alloted some time to ponder upon the question: Why am I reading this blog?
I know this is a desperate and pathetic way of forcing people to comment and *gasp* reveal themselves as reader of this *P078@!* blog. Well, you decide. Is the 1gig email space and advanced features worth the humiliation and loss of self-respect and lifetime of isolation? You be the judge. And I'm not kidding really, gmail invites up for grabs to most creative comment. Don't post your email address though, just leave a guessable pseudonym. And I'll blog the *winners* for more humiliation. I hope this is legal. Tata!
I actually do not know, if people really are reading this blog. Friends I meet say: nakakatuwa blog mo ron, parang totoong buhay. But I just put in a hit counter (for non-technical persons who might be reading this blog like the mang chong, iyong kapitbahay namin na hardiner/gardenero, ung hit counter supposedly counts the number of times the page has been fetched or read online), and the god damned hit counter always reads 2! Dalawa lang ba talaga nagbabasa nito? Kung ako iyong isa, sino ka then? Magpakilala ka!
*Update Nov25: I installed a new counter which seems to be working. Now, it reads zero. Ha!*
Since I am assured that at least another person is reading this blog, I would like to hand out a reward to the other reader of this blog, imaginary or otherwise.
Ever heard of gmail? Google's foray into email hosting. if I did this html page right, here is the
Well as of now, the people who can avail of the service can only do so if invited by someone who already has one. And I do have one and I am privileged enough to invite some people. I was thinking of inviting people who has done me favors (sexual or otherwise), but I also wanted to also invite females. So invites are up for grabs for people who alloted some time to ponder upon the question: Why am I reading this blog?
I know this is a desperate and pathetic way of forcing people to comment and *gasp* reveal themselves as reader of this *P078@!* blog. Well, you decide. Is the 1gig email space and advanced features worth the humiliation and loss of self-respect and lifetime of isolation? You be the judge. And I'm not kidding really, gmail invites up for grabs to most creative comment. Don't post your email address though, just leave a guessable pseudonym. And I'll blog the *winners* for more humiliation. I hope this is legal. Tata!
Tuesday, November 23
Work Hard, Play Even Harder
I decided to take a day off today to ponder upon the future that lies ahead in every mild mannered programmer like me. Aside from a day of pondering, I felt that i also need a day to destress. Unfortunately for me, I used up all my sick and vacation leave (I've been very sickly and vacationly for this year) so i'm not getting paid for this day of thinking and unwinding. Syet, less gimik money for me next payday...
Is it even possible? The title of this nonsensical blog, is it possible to work hard and even play harder? Well, for those who just recently picked the habit to browse this blogful of experience, this mild-mannered programmer has been ..uhm.. working soft. Yes, I've been very unproductive lately (I just hope my immediate superior's not reading this, well if ever you are reading this mister immediate-superior-of-the-mild-mannered programmer, this story is entirely fictitious and even entirely opposite, this programmer has been spending wakeful nights thinking of improving the computing efficiency of the establishment, this 'imaginary' story is all for the reading pleasure of the readers of this blog who has nothing else to do). Well, though I been fictitiously been working soft, I been playing hard on the weekend. Correct me if I'm wrong, I defined 'playing' on the weekends as the normal gimik undertaken by yuppies. Well, based on my impression brought upon by the media and society, the normal gimik composes of the basic food groups: some sex, some drugs and some alcohol. Since I can't get any of the first two, I try to compensate by taking more of the third.
These weekend gimiks leave me drained to work on monday or the day after the gimik which leads me to the conclusion that it is not possible to play harder aside from working hard. Believe me, I tried working even much softer and maintaining the playing levels but still leaves me drained. This leaves me with the following realizations: by working soft and playing harder, leads you to working softer or even not working at all.
*Added AM of Nov 19*
But wait! I think I maybe mistaken. I just woke up this morning, again with the feeling of dysmenorrhea and constipation and upset stomach (I'm not female but I just felt what I'm feeling at that time was close to dismenorea, I could be wrong but you don't care do you?), and I was using all the power I have to stop time from reaching 6.30am so that I would not have to force myself to take a shower (I don't like showers in the morning, brrr..), eat, and *dread* go to work. Since it's already 9.39am, I obviously did not stop time but if anyone noticed time slowing down around 6.30am, comment me. Maybe my powers to stop time needs just a bit of practice. Hehe, I was hoping it was too subtle for me to notice. Yes, I know, I'm not making any sense again, what does my waking up have to do with my changing of mind regarding working and playing? For some unknown reason, I was reminded of my workaholic alcoholic friend. She does work hard, and yet plays even harder. I'm not sure how much sex and drugs she gets, but i'm sure she gets a lot of alcohol. hmmm... I wonder how she does it? Maybe it has something to do with the testosterone-alcohol or estrogen-alcohol reaction? Since it is not statistically sound to conlude anything, but hey, who wants to be statistically sound? I therefore conclude, barring any violent reactions, that ...uhm... women may work hard and play even harder due the the abundance of estrogen levels. Would this include the gays? (by the way, what the politically correct term for gays?) Oh well, that's for another blog.
Is it even possible? The title of this nonsensical blog, is it possible to work hard and even play harder? Well, for those who just recently picked the habit to browse this blogful of experience, this mild-mannered programmer has been ..uhm.. working soft. Yes, I've been very unproductive lately (I just hope my immediate superior's not reading this, well if ever you are reading this mister immediate-superior-of-the-mild-mannered programmer, this story is entirely fictitious and even entirely opposite, this programmer has been spending wakeful nights thinking of improving the computing efficiency of the establishment, this 'imaginary' story is all for the reading pleasure of the readers of this blog who has nothing else to do). Well, though I been fictitiously been working soft, I been playing hard on the weekend. Correct me if I'm wrong, I defined 'playing' on the weekends as the normal gimik undertaken by yuppies. Well, based on my impression brought upon by the media and society, the normal gimik composes of the basic food groups: some sex, some drugs and some alcohol. Since I can't get any of the first two, I try to compensate by taking more of the third.
These weekend gimiks leave me drained to work on monday or the day after the gimik which leads me to the conclusion that it is not possible to play harder aside from working hard. Believe me, I tried working even much softer and maintaining the playing levels but still leaves me drained. This leaves me with the following realizations: by working soft and playing harder, leads you to working softer or even not working at all.
*Added AM of Nov 19*
But wait! I think I maybe mistaken. I just woke up this morning, again with the feeling of dysmenorrhea and constipation and upset stomach (I'm not female but I just felt what I'm feeling at that time was close to dismenorea, I could be wrong but you don't care do you?), and I was using all the power I have to stop time from reaching 6.30am so that I would not have to force myself to take a shower (I don't like showers in the morning, brrr..), eat, and *dread* go to work. Since it's already 9.39am, I obviously did not stop time but if anyone noticed time slowing down around 6.30am, comment me. Maybe my powers to stop time needs just a bit of practice. Hehe, I was hoping it was too subtle for me to notice. Yes, I know, I'm not making any sense again, what does my waking up have to do with my changing of mind regarding working and playing? For some unknown reason, I was reminded of my workaholic alcoholic friend. She does work hard, and yet plays even harder. I'm not sure how much sex and drugs she gets, but i'm sure she gets a lot of alcohol. hmmm... I wonder how she does it? Maybe it has something to do with the testosterone-alcohol or estrogen-alcohol reaction? Since it is not statistically sound to conlude anything, but hey, who wants to be statistically sound? I therefore conclude, barring any violent reactions, that ...uhm... women may work hard and play even harder due the the abundance of estrogen levels. Would this include the gays? (by the way, what the politically correct term for gays?) Oh well, that's for another blog.
Friday, November 19
Arteng Martial
I hanged out with an old buddy of mine and his friend, Francois and Antoine (pronounced as Franshwa and Antshwa, *names are intentionally misspelled and mispronounced on purpose, to protect the identities of the involved*). The plan was just to hang out. Drink some beers maybe, moke and some other typical hanging out activities.
But that was all after a delish eat at Pizza Hut with character who is making a second appearance on this blog named Marbhen and my ex-girlfriend ...uhm... let's call her Crystal. (This is of course to protect the identity of the involved. *hey, this line is getting cliche-er and cliche-er by the minute. To avoid making this line a cliche, from now on, names of the people who are appear on this blog, by default are murderized, misspelled and mispronounced. hell, some may be fictitious and imaginary with real names. i fear that people who appears on blog may lose self respect and may never find another job in this country for the reason of just appearing here. hmm.. that didn't make any sense but making sense is not the point of this blog. this blog is here for the sole purpose of being an online outlet for a mild mannered programmer and maybe provide fun, humor and happiness for other beings out there*) Anyway...
So there, I had dinner with my ex-girlfriend and another not-as-mild-mannered-as-i-am programmer. And why not? We are still friends, we still share some likes and dislikes, it was a mutual decision to meet and eat and maybe talk, but I will definitely not hold his hand and show public display of affection. so what's wrong with meeting another programmer?
Well, things are different when you and your girlfriend are now just 'friends.' assuming we follow the norms set by our society on how friends relate, there will be no physical intimacy (hand-holding, hugs, shouldering (ano ba english ng akbay?), topics to be discussed should not border around the breakup, both has to pretend that they've moved on, and so on and so forth. And with a reason known to a select few, the mild mannered programmer and crystal love team is an now an impossibility. I just hope there are alpha females that adore mild and mannered programmers like I pretend to be. So there!
So if you remember in the first paragraph, I hanged out the rest of the night. We had vitamin C inspired discussions on various martial arts. (Di kasi ako pwede ng alcohol due to the antibiotics I have to take due to my extracted impaktitong tooth. I remember the text msg I recieved from my dentist when I asked him if I can now take on san mig light:NO! you can't have alcohol since it will have an interaction with the antibiotic which will weaken your liver cells and the mitochondiria will break the wall and cause fusion and fission due to anearobic activity of the plankton like material. *Did that make sense? I just threw in words I can still recall from highschool biology* The point is, I can't have any. So the vitamin C fresh juice extract lead us to flavorful discussions of arnis, karate, capoeira, aikido and other arts. Well, I can't do any since I'm still waiting for my damned gum to heal. Capoeira really interests me though...
Kung umabot kayo sa kakabasa dito, hmm.. wala siguro kayo magawa. Pero para di naman masayang oras nyo, martial means - pertaining or relating to a profession in arms. So ayun, you've just grown a bit smarter if exert enough effort to remember that.
But that was all after a delish eat at Pizza Hut with character who is making a second appearance on this blog named Marbhen and my ex-girlfriend ...uhm... let's call her Crystal. (This is of course to protect the identity of the involved. *hey, this line is getting cliche-er and cliche-er by the minute. To avoid making this line a cliche, from now on, names of the people who are appear on this blog, by default are murderized, misspelled and mispronounced. hell, some may be fictitious and imaginary with real names. i fear that people who appears on blog may lose self respect and may never find another job in this country for the reason of just appearing here. hmm.. that didn't make any sense but making sense is not the point of this blog. this blog is here for the sole purpose of being an online outlet for a mild mannered programmer and maybe provide fun, humor and happiness for other beings out there*) Anyway...
So there, I had dinner with my ex-girlfriend and another not-as-mild-mannered-as-i-am programmer. And why not? We are still friends, we still share some likes and dislikes, it was a mutual decision to meet and eat and maybe talk, but I will definitely not hold his hand and show public display of affection. so what's wrong with meeting another programmer?
Well, things are different when you and your girlfriend are now just 'friends.' assuming we follow the norms set by our society on how friends relate, there will be no physical intimacy (hand-holding, hugs, shouldering (ano ba english ng akbay?), topics to be discussed should not border around the breakup, both has to pretend that they've moved on, and so on and so forth. And with a reason known to a select few, the mild mannered programmer and crystal love team is an now an impossibility. I just hope there are alpha females that adore mild and mannered programmers like I pretend to be. So there!
So if you remember in the first paragraph, I hanged out the rest of the night. We had vitamin C inspired discussions on various martial arts. (Di kasi ako pwede ng alcohol due to the antibiotics I have to take due to my extracted impaktitong tooth. I remember the text msg I recieved from my dentist when I asked him if I can now take on san mig light:NO! you can't have alcohol since it will have an interaction with the antibiotic which will weaken your liver cells and the mitochondiria will break the wall and cause fusion and fission due to anearobic activity of the plankton like material. *Did that make sense? I just threw in words I can still recall from highschool biology* The point is, I can't have any. So the vitamin C fresh juice extract lead us to flavorful discussions of arnis, karate, capoeira, aikido and other arts. Well, I can't do any since I'm still waiting for my damned gum to heal. Capoeira really interests me though...
Kung umabot kayo sa kakabasa dito, hmm.. wala siguro kayo magawa. Pero para di naman masayang oras nyo, martial means - pertaining or relating to a profession in arms. So ayun, you've just grown a bit smarter if exert enough effort to remember that.
Wednesday, November 17
Drugged and Toothless
We had a pleasant three day weekend last Nov. 13 until 15.
(PGMA, sana laging ganito, the moving mid-week holidays near weekends. This reminds me of joke, while most of the moving of holidays were warmly welcomed, the president annoyed the faithful when the palace proposed the maundy thursday be moved on monday and good friday to be celebrated on tuesday for a 4 day weekend. *Some jokes are better told than written*) Anyway...
So ano ba ang magandang gawin sa mga araw na yan? On the last 3-day weekend we had during kalag-kalag, me and some of my friends (Marben, Jonash, Thin, sayang wala si Mayla *in alphabetical order, names had been intentionally mispelled to protect the identities of the involved*), had a beach trip and rented a cottage for an overnight stay in Samal. Woohoo ang saya nun, kulang lang nga sa beer and ice pero solbs sa dagat, smoke, and inihaw na porkchop. Yumm. Anyway, di ganito ang ginawa ko this 3-day weekend. What i did was have a scheduled removal of an impacted (a.k.a. impaktong) tooth.
Yes, my wisdom tooth was not growing straigth. Para sa mga maswerte at di nagkaroon nito, according to my dentist, an impacted tooth may push your good teeth an thus create misalignment, another is that there is a very high possibility of food and dirt getting trapped that cavities may develop and affect your good teeth. Marami pa ata, i-google nyo na lang kung sobrang ala kayong alam about impacted teeth.
And I'm lucky enough to have two of them: lower left and lower right. I had my lower left impacted tooth removed which signaled the end of a flourishing soccer career at that time: after removal of the tooth, kailangan ng sufficient rest para maghilum ang sugat tsaka no actions with much force. So ayun, may local tournament pa naman sana (as if sobrang galing). Medyo natatakot nga ako umebak baka kasi dumugo gums kung may forceable action. (Note to self, eat fiber-rich foods after impacted tooth removal).
Well during the last three day weekend, balak ko ipa-alis iyong sa kanan. Bakit kamo? 1.) My ex-girlfriend broke up with me and is now happy in another relationship, I want to feel as much pain as possible! 2.) Might as well get rid of this now while still *young*.
Di naman ganun kasakit iyong surgery, may anesthesia naman. Alam nyo ba when recieving anesthesia, one should avoid alcohol days before the operation? Medyo kinabahan ako during the friday operation because I had 3 beers last wednesday after confirming with the dentist that I should only have 1! Hay naku, kung di ko lang crush iyong kasama ko nun, pero I had fun that night. Hehe, nagbanat na lang ako tubig during thursday and friday in the hopes of diluting all the floating alcohol sa katawan ko. Buti na lang ok iyong reaction ko sa anesthesia, I guess all the water i downed paid off, nakakakaba lang iyong tunog ng metal thingy scraping the bone of your lower jaw as the perspiring dentist forcibly tries to breakoff the damned tooth. Whew!
Remember the ice cream we had as kids after any dental works? Di lang pala siya reward for being brave kids, the cold food actually helps the wound not to swell much and the ice cream would ease the pain. So i had some. I would like to take this opportunity to thank my brother robhen for driving me home after such gruelling battle.
Ayun, so I used the three day weekend to recuperate. Tambay lang sa bahay to watch tv, sira pa jud and gitara, nothing to good read sa bahay (memorize ko na lahat ng fhm ko, hehe), di pa pwede magyosi, this time bawal na ang ice cream, so in short, I was in zombie state. Living in a state of suspended reality just waiting for by body to heal.
I missed things, birthday bash ng comsci classmate ko (happy 29th birthday to Jaypi!), may friend ako nagyaya ng eden getaway for free, haaay kasayang, di pa ako nakapanood ng the incredibles, may friend ako, who feels that i might lose emotional stability, nagyaya sana ng inuman. (It is a fact that alcohol when mixed with tosteserone provides emotional stability for males). So di ako pde lahat nun...
Pero medyo ok na ulit, I'm back sa office, I'm still bored, I'm still unproductive, but I'm back. medyo nakakaramdam pa ako ng kaunting kirot minsan. haaay, and to think I spent my entire paycheck to drugged and toothless...
(PGMA, sana laging ganito, the moving mid-week holidays near weekends. This reminds me of joke, while most of the moving of holidays were warmly welcomed, the president annoyed the faithful when the palace proposed the maundy thursday be moved on monday and good friday to be celebrated on tuesday for a 4 day weekend. *Some jokes are better told than written*) Anyway...
So ano ba ang magandang gawin sa mga araw na yan? On the last 3-day weekend we had during kalag-kalag, me and some of my friends (Marben, Jonash, Thin, sayang wala si Mayla *in alphabetical order, names had been intentionally mispelled to protect the identities of the involved*), had a beach trip and rented a cottage for an overnight stay in Samal. Woohoo ang saya nun, kulang lang nga sa beer and ice pero solbs sa dagat, smoke, and inihaw na porkchop. Yumm. Anyway, di ganito ang ginawa ko this 3-day weekend. What i did was have a scheduled removal of an impacted (a.k.a. impaktong) tooth.
Yes, my wisdom tooth was not growing straigth. Para sa mga maswerte at di nagkaroon nito, according to my dentist, an impacted tooth may push your good teeth an thus create misalignment, another is that there is a very high possibility of food and dirt getting trapped that cavities may develop and affect your good teeth. Marami pa ata, i-google nyo na lang kung sobrang ala kayong alam about impacted teeth.
And I'm lucky enough to have two of them: lower left and lower right. I had my lower left impacted tooth removed which signaled the end of a flourishing soccer career at that time: after removal of the tooth, kailangan ng sufficient rest para maghilum ang sugat tsaka no actions with much force. So ayun, may local tournament pa naman sana (as if sobrang galing). Medyo natatakot nga ako umebak baka kasi dumugo gums kung may forceable action. (Note to self, eat fiber-rich foods after impacted tooth removal).
Well during the last three day weekend, balak ko ipa-alis iyong sa kanan. Bakit kamo? 1.) My ex-girlfriend broke up with me and is now happy in another relationship, I want to feel as much pain as possible! 2.) Might as well get rid of this now while still *young*.
Di naman ganun kasakit iyong surgery, may anesthesia naman. Alam nyo ba when recieving anesthesia, one should avoid alcohol days before the operation? Medyo kinabahan ako during the friday operation because I had 3 beers last wednesday after confirming with the dentist that I should only have 1! Hay naku, kung di ko lang crush iyong kasama ko nun, pero I had fun that night. Hehe, nagbanat na lang ako tubig during thursday and friday in the hopes of diluting all the floating alcohol sa katawan ko. Buti na lang ok iyong reaction ko sa anesthesia, I guess all the water i downed paid off, nakakakaba lang iyong tunog ng metal thingy scraping the bone of your lower jaw as the perspiring dentist forcibly tries to breakoff the damned tooth. Whew!
Remember the ice cream we had as kids after any dental works? Di lang pala siya reward for being brave kids, the cold food actually helps the wound not to swell much and the ice cream would ease the pain. So i had some. I would like to take this opportunity to thank my brother robhen for driving me home after such gruelling battle.
Ayun, so I used the three day weekend to recuperate. Tambay lang sa bahay to watch tv, sira pa jud and gitara, nothing to good read sa bahay (memorize ko na lahat ng fhm ko, hehe), di pa pwede magyosi, this time bawal na ang ice cream, so in short, I was in zombie state. Living in a state of suspended reality just waiting for by body to heal.
I missed things, birthday bash ng comsci classmate ko (happy 29th birthday to Jaypi!), may friend ako nagyaya ng eden getaway for free, haaay kasayang, di pa ako nakapanood ng the incredibles, may friend ako, who feels that i might lose emotional stability, nagyaya sana ng inuman. (It is a fact that alcohol when mixed with tosteserone provides emotional stability for males). So di ako pde lahat nun...
Pero medyo ok na ulit, I'm back sa office, I'm still bored, I'm still unproductive, but I'm back. medyo nakakaramdam pa ako ng kaunting kirot minsan. haaay, and to think I spent my entire paycheck to drugged and toothless...
Blog Comments
Haha, medyo nakakatuwa kung merong comments sa blog mo. Well, to tell you the truth, some of those comments were mine. I like reading my blog and see the comment counter with a value of at least one. (Yes, i also have this pathetic side to my online virtual alter ego). Kaso, anonymous lahat ng comments, medyo napapaisip rin ako kung sino kaya, though may iba na feeling ko obvious kung sino sumulat. (Feeling lang naman)
To internet newbie: you're very much welcome. Hehe, parang kilala yata kita preng. Thanks for reading such nonsense.
Comment pa!
To internet newbie: you're very much welcome. Hehe, parang kilala yata kita preng. Thanks for reading such nonsense.
Comment pa!
Thursday, November 11
My Friend
May mga kaibigan akong nagsabi na fickle-minded raw ako. Someone fickle-minded tends to change his/her mind on matters decided upon beforehand. Siguro nga medyo totoo yan kasi ngayon I have decided to write about my friends instead of myself. Para naman maaliw sila magbasa at manghula kung sino tinutukoy ko.
Sige ito ang napagisipan ko for now. I'll write a little something about a friend in a little while. This will serve as a textual reminder of this decision.
Sige ito ang napagisipan ko for now. I'll write a little something about a friend in a little while. This will serve as a textual reminder of this decision.
Friday, November 5
Nonsense, Please Don't Read
I've been staring at the crisp, white space on the monitor thinking of what to write. Am i forcing myself to write? (intently stares some more, this time at the blinking cursor) I may be forcing myself, but why? Hmm... I've heard that people can't creatively write if they are forced. In my case, the difficulty of writing lies in the need of the article's coherence of thought, proper use of terms minding the word's connotation and denotation, correct grammar which leads me to promplty do ctrl+a, delete, whenever something I've written strays from those rules. Well... for this time I'll just type whatever comes to my mind which controls my fingers tapping on the keys regardless of incoherence of thought.
I actually do not know what to write on my blog. Most people treat blogs as online/public diary for other people to read. I occasionally write my thoughts down on a notebook, but the words, thoughts, ideas I sometimes write is not for public viewing. I'm a semi-secretive person especially on matters regarding myself. Why the secrecy then? I tend to write regardless of what others may say. I curse, I write things which may be hurtful to others. I write my hangups, I write my hangups on people I relate with. I don't regularly write my thoughts down though. Why the secrecy then? I feel that people may not like me if they get to read what I wrote about them. Well, I feel that I'm human so I still have this need for social acceptance, though I kinda like being alone sometimes. Maybe this is one reason I can't write blogs. There are thoughts that should be left for my own thinking pleasure. Aside from social acceptance, well since the thoughts I write down are about me, why would you care? Why would anybody care if it doesn't affect them? I don't want to bore anyone with details about myself you don't care about. If you got to read until this part, i'm sorry for wasting your time and please stop reading and live/leave.
So what should i write on my blog? Maybe i'll write about trivial things about myself and my thoughts on some things. Something like: I walked my dog today around the village and I felt happy. Or maybe some announcements like: free beer at home at this date. Or maybe tidbits about my life in a slumbook type of format so that stalkers of mine get to know me better: my favorite color is pink and I usually hangout at magsaysay park.
Boredom. It really leads you to nowhere.
I actually do not know what to write on my blog. Most people treat blogs as online/public diary for other people to read. I occasionally write my thoughts down on a notebook, but the words, thoughts, ideas I sometimes write is not for public viewing. I'm a semi-secretive person especially on matters regarding myself. Why the secrecy then? I tend to write regardless of what others may say. I curse, I write things which may be hurtful to others. I write my hangups, I write my hangups on people I relate with. I don't regularly write my thoughts down though. Why the secrecy then? I feel that people may not like me if they get to read what I wrote about them. Well, I feel that I'm human so I still have this need for social acceptance, though I kinda like being alone sometimes. Maybe this is one reason I can't write blogs. There are thoughts that should be left for my own thinking pleasure. Aside from social acceptance, well since the thoughts I write down are about me, why would you care? Why would anybody care if it doesn't affect them? I don't want to bore anyone with details about myself you don't care about. If you got to read until this part, i'm sorry for wasting your time and please stop reading and live/leave.
So what should i write on my blog? Maybe i'll write about trivial things about myself and my thoughts on some things. Something like: I walked my dog today around the village and I felt happy. Or maybe some announcements like: free beer at home at this date. Or maybe tidbits about my life in a slumbook type of format so that stalkers of mine get to know me better: my favorite color is pink and I usually hangout at magsaysay park.
Boredom. It really leads you to nowhere.
Thursday, November 4
Boredom and Breakup
It's what I do to earn a living. I type letters to form syntactical units according to a high level programming language which will be initially parsed then compiled as an executable binary which will be run for the purpose of serving a small part of humankind. Yep, that's my skewed definition of programming. and that's what I'm suppose to be doing during office hours, not writing some blog for the viewing and reading pleasure of others.
But I'm bored. and let me share this boredom with you dear reader by droning on.
Just last week, my girlfriend broke up with me in cliche kind of way. And I to quote her 'sorry ron, but it's not you, it's me.' this is the nth breakup we had and it's not as violent as the ones before where I ended in the intensive care unit of a hospital --but this is for another blog. Well, we're friends still. Cliche lang ang break up line, pero the details are a tangled mess of emotional spaghetti and meatballs of disappointment. Hah! How's that for a metaphor.
Well, can't think of anything to write. I hope you got bored too.
But I'm bored. and let me share this boredom with you dear reader by droning on.
Just last week, my girlfriend broke up with me in cliche kind of way. And I to quote her 'sorry ron, but it's not you, it's me.' this is the nth breakup we had and it's not as violent as the ones before where I ended in the intensive care unit of a hospital --but this is for another blog. Well, we're friends still. Cliche lang ang break up line, pero the details are a tangled mess of emotional spaghetti and meatballs of disappointment. Hah! How's that for a metaphor.
Well, can't think of anything to write. I hope you got bored too.
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