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.
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