Ciao!

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Trivia:
Did you know that Mother’s Day is celebrated in different months by different places and cultures? Greece celebrates the day first every February 2nd, while Indonesia celebrates the occasion every December 22nd.

The mall was jam packed as usual, being one of the most popular jologs malls in the metro. I noted a few things in the mall that
irritated me:

Yeah, so there. I’m ranting. Yeah. I had a bad day. I was tired and sticky from standing for an hour and a half in line for a fucking taxi. No problem. It was for the people I loved (and still love) most anyway. And so, my day ended with an added fuck you when the taxi that we were riding burned his clutch off, suffocating us in the shit until his engine (or his brainless skull) blew.) We ended up riding a different cab home. I was worried that the smoke would have serious effects on my baby. I still am.

Damn, that day was shit.

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Anyway, I’ll be updating this post every now and then in order to help the stupid idiots who cannot go through an entire day without visiting friendster of myspace or meebo. Here’s a list of free proxies that I currently have. Note that I didn’t list down the ones that have been blocked already. Free Proxy?

1. http://43.177.232.72.static.reverse.ltdomains.com/
2. http://www.kproxy.com/
3. http://www.server7.kproxy.com
4. http://www.concealme.com/

If you’re able to access it, or if you have a working proxy, please leave a comment. Don’t be a fucktard.

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Anyway, I started at the 100-ish issue and read everything up until Chapter 494. Just imagine all those hours of un-productivity. Almost every issue has several grammatical errors. Some to the extent of not making any sense at all.

Example:

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He had already absorbed the posh bedecking in the Italian restaurant where they were to meet. It was located near the upper class wharf, just five minutes away from the Palm Villas. There was a light, blowing breeze as he looked around the place. He could taste the salt in the air as he eyed the little round tables covered with simple white table cloths, napkin, plate, glass and silverware neatly arranged on top. The tables were set as if only couples favored the place. In fact, as he looked around, he only saw couples seated close to each other whispering as if the wind carried their conversations about. He stared at the floor, richly decorated with paintings of Dryads, and Naiads, some frolicking about, some bathing in the stream, while others were just looking up to the sky. “The owner must be a fanatic of nymphs,” he muttered to himself, and shoved the thought away.

It was nearing dusk. He looked straight at the entrance of the restaurant and saw the sun setting in the horizon. He instantly forgot that he was losing his patience and looking stupid in his soliloquy. The sky had a reddish glow in it, with the sun just a few inches from the ocean as it seemed. He was clearly dazzled by the beauty of it when a curvaceous figure suddenly marred his view.

The tall slender figure slowly made his way to him. He could not see her face because of the bright sunlight still behind her. She wore a billowy dress as she strutted with an allure that would have made fresh dough grow hard. As the sun set completely, the lights on the venue illuminated her face. She looked at him directly, eyelashes curled to its fullest, lips slightly puckered, besmirched red.

As she continued to walk towards him, all sound was muted, except for that clicking sound emanating from her heels. All movement was instantly blurred, except that of hers, slowly approaching him.

Was she the girl that Marvin setup with him? He hated blind dates. Not even a picture or a description was given to him. He was just told to wait somewhere and that the girl would know him right away.

So there she was, a tall, slender, curvaceous, woman, ultimately a bombshell that guys would normally clamor for, walking straight towards him!

His heart beat faster and faster with each click that her shoes made. He felt his throat tighten. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His hands started shaking. His foot uncontrollably tapped the pavement. He could feel himself getting jittery with each second.

When she was only a few feet shy of him, she smiled and waved her hand. He was about to wave back when a deep voice behind him said, “Honey, I ordered the chicken, let’s go find an expert rhinoplasty specialist”

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He started drinking when he was sixteen. By the time he turned nineteen, he was a Beer Drinking Title Holder. He found it weird that at 26, he was having difficulty handling his drink. He laughed. Maybe I peaked to early, he thought as he drank the entire contents of the bottle in just one swig. He signaled the bartender for another bottle while chewing thoughtfully on some peanuts.

He looked around and found that the bar was almost full. Tonight is ladies night Bub, the bartender said with a haughty grin. Aye mate, chided the balding guy two seats away from him.

He smiled. He didn’t want to be around women. He was looking forward to a night of man-talk and several beers. It wasn’t because he was one of them pathetic losers who couldn’t get any girlfriends or get laid. On the contrary, he was a handsome fellow, slightly tanned, tall at five feet eleven inches, and sported shoulder length wavy hair. He wore baggy corduroy cargo pants and a tight shirt to show off his fully-tattooed arms. He swiveled on his seat and handed a 20-dollar bill to the bartender.

Just as he was standing up, he caught sight of a petite, young lady sitting at the end of the bar. She was absentmindedly stirring her drink. She looked lost in thought and lonely.

Normally, he didn’t approach girls. The girls always do the approaching, but this time, he felt as if he was being pulled to her. He could see the radiance of her white skin, the pouty lips, the dreamy eyes, the curves of her face. He felt himself being sucked in by her beauty. He let his eyes devour her image.

She was wearing a red silk dress, revealing her cleavage. The dress itself seemed to have a life of its own. It had small sequined black flowers with their leaves and stalk in a darker shade of red. When she moved, the flowers seemed like they were blowing in the wind. Her hair was cut short in order to reveal her pretty face. Although fixed to her drink, her eyes seemed to sparkle, even in sadness.

He sighed. She was the girl of her dreams! Physically, she satisfied his taste and ideal. Like a hot babe who just had a San Francisco plastic surgery. In a moment, he would know if she also had the brains to match her beauty. He wanted to talk to her, argue with her, mindfuck her just to see if she was as smart as he was. When he was done raping her image with his mind, he gulped his beer and sucked on his cigarette.

He boldly made his way to her, his eyes fixed on her face. She didn’t notice him, or pretended not to. He slid on the seat beside her, his eyes still glued to her. Up close, he marveled at the smoothness and whiteness of her skin. He also saw that she had several piercings on her ear, and a tattoo on her left shoulder - blue and red stars. He felt himself getting weak as he continued to absorb all her details. He felt himself getting aroused as the image of him coveting her played on and on in his mind.

He looked at her eyes and was about to offer her a drink when he heard a deep, crass voice say, what the fuck are you staring at? He instinctively turned sideways to confront the arrogant ass who dared to disturb his line when he realized that the girl was looking at him, and she had this questioning look on her face. Holy motherfucker!, he shouted and ran to his car.

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I’ll post the recipe as soon as it gains the approval of my chef-friend, who’s currently in the States.

I actually have a ton of recipes waiting to be posted. It’s just that I’m busier than that guy who manages Neil Crespi .com. LOL.

Moving forward, since we’re on the topic of food, here’s a repost of a popular story that I wrote about a year ago.

At that time of the day, it was as if the shadows were playing with it. It had certain angles when it looked threatening and eerie, and iIf you changed positions, it would look hilarious.

A view from the top right corner would make it look solitary and sad, as if it were left by it’s mess. The angle at which I view it makes the shadows long and narrow, as if it were standing on a lone desert dune watching the sun, its only companion in its soliloquy, set in the horizon.

The sadness which the shadows project on it makes me want to shed tears, but again shifting positions draws out terror in my heart for when I bring it at eye-level, it is suddenly looks imposing and dominating, as if Genghis Khan were standing right in front of me, waving his sword about.

The crushing jolt of my imagination startles me and forces me to take a few steps backward. I behold a new view from where I stand. It’s shadows fall to it’s left side, as if it were standing on a podium, forcing its audience to listen as it makes it voice heard.

The shadows work its magic on the table and makes the roughness of its surface look as if there were a sea of people shouting their support at the top of their lungs. I am instantly awed by this display of power and furtherance.

I hesitantly take a few steps closer and observe the smooth white surface of it, the rounded white surface that’s making it quite enticing. I reach into my bag and finger the meager sachet, containing the brown liquid that would amplify its smack to a fullness that would satisfy even the burliest, paunchiest of individuals.

My great craving enslaves me once again, as I grab it with a savageness that peons experience during meal time. I brutally force the flimsy sachet open and ruthlessly force the liquid onto it. I wolf down on it in less than a couple of minutes and flush it down with a glass of Gatorade.

So much for that siopao.

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We spent the whole day yesterday at the Mall of Asia, together with the family - Nina’s side. It was expected that the mall would be cramped with mofos and jolorgzes but I didn’t mind. I was with my wife and baby. That was all that mattered.

Anyway, we spent most of the day inside the air-conditioned part of the mall. Didn’t you notice that it was overly balmy yesterday? Yeah, I wouldn’t mind staying outside. I’d just sit and ogle at those trendy-sexy-pekpek-shorts-holy-mother-of-god-barely-legal-buy -me-an-ipod girls displaying their wears, or just hanging out at the mall.

If you’re one of them internet trawlers, you’d probably received that email about this cute girl and her hideous boyfriend. You have? Perfect. You haven’t? Oh shit. Send me a note and I’ll forward it to you. Anyway, I saw the guy down at the mall. I think he was with his pals, who were totally hideous as well. LOL. I was on my way to Watson’s to buy something for my little girl when I noticed them smoking near the cinema. If you think he’s got an ugly mug in pictures, wait till you see him in person. LOL. If only I were a millionaire, I’d definitely sponsor his trip abroad to Dr Naderi of Virginia Facial Plastic Surgery. Too bad for him I’m not. LOL.

Not that I think I’m a good looking bloke, but I’m pretty sure that I’d be really dashing in a suit. People with faces like that guy should be quarantined in a remote island. Blah. Bad.

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I. Hate. Kids.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a proud and loving father and husband. It’s just that in general, I hate kids, with the exception of my daughter. I hate it when they tinker with my stuff, or pester me with questions. I hate it when they’re noisy and restless. Why the hell can’t they stay in one place and shut their traps? LOL.

So, in an effort to push for strict and rigid child discipline, I offer you five ways of helping these little boogers achieve the ultimate disciplined behavior.

1. Spanking - the most common of all punishments given to children. Nowadays, if you whip your child too much, they end up being rebels. Nothing new here, except that spanking isn’t limited to children anymore.

2. Scolding - I don’t get it. Why the hell do people point when they’re scolding someone? Can’t one scold with their hands in their pockets? With all the pointing going on, it looks more like blaming - or an accusation even. Don’t believe me? Try Googling “scolding”. (more…)

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Ultimately, the joy of holding my infant daughter was insurmountable. It still is, but, when Nina started laboring, the experience was nerve wracking.

I can never put it in words for I, being a member of the masculine class, will never ever experience the pain of being in labor, or delivering a child. I know for a fact that the process was a terrible burden for my wife. The pain came in waves, and as the baby descended further into her uterus, so did the pain double, until ultimately expelling a life from her womb. (more…)

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And so the challenge of coming up with a gourmet meal continues. I came up with something original. One thing I hate is that I don’t have them big white plates for better presentation. Anyway, after several failures and misses in my cooking, I managed to come up with something pleasing to both the eyes and the mouth.

If you’re trying this recipe, please let me know how it turns out in your end. Also, let me know what else can be added to improve the taste.

Here’s the recipe: (more…)

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Here’s my simple recipe: (more…)

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I was my excited and perky self again the moment I bought the kit. It was one day before my days-off. I had planned it that way in order to have an unlimited amount of time to assemble and customize kit.

I got home late, sat in the dining room, and tried to decide whether to wait until daylight or put the kit together right away. I decided on the latter, envisioning the tongue lashing that would greet me a good morning if the wife sees me with my toy in hand (LOL?) instead of cooking breakfast.

After a horrible night’s sleep I woke up early, cooked breakfast for the wife, sent her out to work and half-ran up the stairs in order to start building the kit. I didn’t bother with breakfast. I just had a can of Coke, a bottle of water, and a pack of Marlboro Lights. I started looking reading the manual at around five o’clock in the morning but got to the actual assembly at around seven.

So a sore hand, a ridiculous smile, a rumbling stocmach, a pack of cigarettes, and 12 hours later, my new Gundam kit, with several modifications, was completed. I was ecstatic and showed my wife my new toy. I got a shrug - ten thousand times better compared to a blank face. ^_^

And so, without further ado, I bring you geeks-without-a-life, the newest addition to my Gundam kit collection - RX-178 MK-II Titan, modified with matte coating and black hydraulic tubes (not visible asshole). Enjoy! (more…)

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Please note that each item in this guide outlines a brief summary, appended with a brief scenario on the positive and negative effects of following the item.

1. Don’t be late

It is imperative that you arrive on time for your date. Remember, first impressions last. May I also stress that arriving on time is one of the major prerequisites to a successful date. Arriving early will give you the chance to familiarize yourself with the venue for the date. This means that this allows you to look for the nearest exit in case you need to bail out suddenly and you don’t have the heart to tell your date. Arriving late on the other hand will make you less of a man. Your date may think that, a. you’re a lazy bastard; b. you’re too poor to own a watch; c. you still live with your mom. If you have a problem with time management, then it is recommended that you plan your date 3 months in advance. This gives you the time to plan your drinking sessions, cancel your other dates, ask for date money from your parents. Schmuck.

Negative:
You (looks at watch): “Argh!!! Get out of my way people!!!”
You (arrives at the venue of the date only to find out that she’s already found someone else): “FUCK!!!”

Positive:
You (already at the venue): “…”
Her: “Hi!”
You: “Hey!”
Her: “Wow, this is a great restaur…”
You: “So 7 minutes and 36 seconds ago the waiter asked if I wanted to order”
Her: “Yeah?”
You: “Yeah, so I asked him if I looked pathetic because my date was late.”
Her: “…”
You: “…”
Her: “Look I’m so sorr…”
You (bursts into tears): “I’m okay… I am… I… Am…” (bursts into tears again) (more…)

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I just realized how ghei I looked 4 years ago. Oh well. Fuck you.

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To the Asshole who shutdown my computer,

Hi! How does this day find you? I hope you get hit by a fucking bus today. Thanks to your little activity, I have lost several important files that I was working on. Sure, MS Excel has this recovery thing, but that didn’t save all of it! What’s worse is that you didn’t even fucking call me about it. My phone number’s all over my email signature. It’s even in the directory. You just left a little gay note. You even used my post-it. Asshole. I bet you used my pen too, huh?

(more…)

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New theme, new post. I wanted to rant about the asshole who created this new theme that I’m using. What’s more is that I’d like to have a conversation with him and tell him personally what sucks in his theme. Because I’m too lazy to contact him, and because email is not personal (duh?!), I gave him my two cents worth in my brain.

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A few days ago, my wife and I went to St. Francis Square in Ortigas in search for bargain clothing. Yeah, we’re cheap like that. While she tried a few pieces of clothing, I went around in search for some ass cheap, cool looking shirts. I managed to find a great one - black, with the words, “You can take away everything from me, but you can’t stop me from being EMO,” printed on the front. Cool eh? Anyway, more awesome than the shirt were the signs in the tiangge.

For those who’re living under boulders of dung, St. Francis Square is located at the back of the SM MegaMall in Ortigas. It’s right along Doña Julia Vargas St. If you’re claustrophobic, don’t even think about shopping there. It’s like a miniaturized version of the GreenHills Shopping Mall minus the annoying dibidi guys.

Right. So the second floor isn’t much, but there were more stores at the far end of the floor. There’s 2A, and as the sign says, we should be going there for more RTW. I took the liberty of capturing the first idiotic sign that I saw with my high-tech-outdated-pseudo-CSI-esque cellphone.

(more…)

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If you’re an asshole with no EQ at all and just don’t have the time to at least read my story, just shout “FUCKING TAKE ME THERE ALREADY!”, or you can read the rest of the piece. (more…)

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1. Perfect Attendance - no matter what you do, this is the first thing that managers look at. Do you have perfect attendance? How many times have you been late? How many times have you been absent? Are you adhering to your schedule? Do you follow your break and lunch schedules? Are you abusing your AUX usage?

2. Stats and Metrics - Do you have the numbers? Are you meeting your targets? Perhaps the most important question here is this: Are you able to balance your metrics? An agent that successfully balances his/her metrics catches the eye of the manager/directors. (more…)

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I remember that on the day that I received an email (thanks to PBS) about her game, I thought of a lot of things to write, and ultimately listed down some of the games that I’ve managed to complete. Making that list was really tedious, considering that the titles went back to 2002 or so, but it was fun and a bit shocking on my part.

After proofreading the post, I was like, WTF?! I spent all those hours playing? LOL. No wonder I didant have friends. Hahaha! (more…)

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View the Video

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