Thursday, February 19, 2009
GOLLY GEE GOOGLE
Oh Brother, why I'm not surprise? By whipping this raticate, you're there. You're incredibly instantaneous. Quick. Faster than the speeding bullets. And a lot like lightning. Do you know that? Just how do you it? I type, you respond. I inquire, you promptly reply.Oh boy, you're a genius. Well sorta. Because at times I am disbelieving everything you say. Not all you said is true. You're as phony as the rest of them. I have to prove or disprove whatever you say to my hearts content. And only then that I 'd relax and be rest assured that all my querries, questions, and doubts are answered. Gosh, I really hate mysteries. Duyunowataymin? And you're such a know it all, eyncha? One time, I simply typed letter J and you have thousands of pages under this subject. So I decided to be nasty and type some more...like...jimg29...yeah...so there. including this article, you have about twenty-nine million things to say about him. Unbelievable! Well, I should be thankful, I guess; afterall you are the only one which records my everyday's thoughts and sufferings. I probably succumbed long ago to the deepest and darkest end of madness. Thanks to you, as well, for making me like a sea jelly, floating aimlessly, I became so lazy. Over these years, you brought endless joys. But from now on, I'd like to change that. I have to go. I must do some serious readings, before I go blind.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
BEAR WITNESS 2 MY
The corner of 101 and 102, downtown, where this BM office stand, bear witness to recent muggings in this pathetic onion town. From cigarretes, rolling coins, petty thieves, and other incidents lurks and abounds. This is where a bus stop also stands. And whenever I pass by this site, I always took time, say little prayers and reminisce about our loving departed one. I remembered asking him about Ayasiv (He loved boxing). If he got the chance to watch the fight. Said yes. Boarded the bus...and moved on.
Like his dad before him, his eyes were failing...then I wondered...Did he really recognize me?
Like his dad before him, his eyes were failing...then I wondered...Did he really recognize me?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
EXISTENZE
The dice was cast, what a crap! Why I always get the shortest end of the straw. I can hear nimrods down the river, calling. Whispering. But it's not the answer for this encumbered debts, griefs.
I see bright light at the end of the tunnel. I'm hopeful still.
I see bright light at the end of the tunnel. I'm hopeful still.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
VALENTINE'S TREATS
After threatening us employees for massive lay-offs and downsizing, they had sudden change of heart and treated us the other day for a Valentine Day's feast; All You Can Eat Buffet of chocolate fondue dip. For a change, our company's cheap Social Commitee spent an elaborate fountain that we all could partake and enjoy. Various entry of fruit salad, ( gay) twisted pretzels, (so gay) rainbow marshmallows, (very gay) and bits and tiny bits of world famous doughnuts, (absolutely gay). But of course, my favorite, boxes and boxes of scrumptious Chinese Lady Fingers, plain sweet waffers to you, (aren't they gay)?
The childish wolf in me love to smuck my face onto the said fountain of melted chocolates but we were explicitly told not to double dip. I'm vey much allergic to chocs anyways, HOORAY!!!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Melbourne Shuffle New School
Garry Shepperd from down under answered my pathetic querries about this so called Melbourne Shuffle, and I owe him deep gratitude for opening my very old conservative views about this form of dance...I'd lose more weight in no time ...hahaha...
Friday, February 13, 2009
THE MELBOURNE SHUFFLE
My teen-age son is irritating. He's been dancing and dancing this morning. He's doing this sort of moon walk and jumping rhapsody. Like sufis going round and round endlessly. He's pirouetting insanely and aimlessly to my dismay. And even without music, he'd been dancing for hours on end to the beat of unheard techno sound. No rhyme nor reason; to which I ask, how does he call it? It's called The Melbourne Shuffle, he said.
OMGWTFLOLZMELBOURNESHUFFLE!!!!
Am I getting out of touch?
OMGWTFLOLZMELBOURNESHUFFLE!!!!
Am I getting out of touch?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
TERRI THE HATCHET
Come quick my greenie freng Jason T. of Greenpinoy.com needs our help. Apparently, the said website had been hacked over the weekend, and he got no clue as to who or what party is responsible to this madness. Even the forum that is tied to the said site, according to Bachengo himself, was nearly or in danger of assault from unscrupulous internet-minders. This is a real lost if it ever happened, and it's really sad that my daily dose of laughter would now be compromised. It also sad to think that several gems of articles that ever written from this forum would be obliterated to smitereens and forgotten by generations to come.
So I beg of you, whoever you are, and for the sake of humanity and human decency, stop hacking the most "tsak-tsek-fool" site that Pinoy all over the world love and regard as their favorite "tambayan". Let's terri the hatchet...err bury the hatchet!
God forbid that if this is yet one of those ploy, and just a desperation grab for attention, I'd swear, I'll go after them perpetrators of this childish pranks myself and chase them to the endz of the worldh.
So I beg of you, whoever you are, and for the sake of humanity and human decency, stop hacking the most "tsak-tsek-fool" site that Pinoy all over the world love and regard as their favorite "tambayan". Let's terri the hatchet...err bury the hatchet!
God forbid that if this is yet one of those ploy, and just a desperation grab for attention, I'd swear, I'll go after them perpetrators of this childish pranks myself and chase them to the endz of the worldh.
Monday, February 9, 2009
THE JOUST
I don't know his name, but I've been watching him very very intently. There's something interesting about him. I mean, the way he carries himself across the room, his looks, his demeanor; he stands out. He's not even tall, just about my height, 5 foot and 7 inches, yet heavier.
He's wearing a worn-out cream printed sweat-shirt over a dark-blue untucked undergarment, heavily buckled stone-washed designer jeans, and a classic striped rubber shoes.
His hands are fidgeting restlessly inside his pockets.
He is Asian but I can't tell for sure if he's Korean or Japanese. He hardly fit the profile. In fact, his eyes are not even slanted nor chinked (boy I'm such a racist) the way most of them are. They are actually rather large, doe eyed shape setted and lucid like tot's marbles. His nose, thin, and decent. He got a shoulder-lenght very shiny hair. Black and unkempt. He is also sporting a three days old beards and whiskers that suit him just fine.
It occured to me that he was also oogling me rather unstealthily. His gaze were penetrating, swordlike and I could have been pierced, killed right there and then. But instead of averting, I fought him off with equal pert; lances and arrows. Like two knights atop their horses, we're unashamedly jousting each other. Err sizing. He then in turn, dis-armed with arresting smiles. And it broke the ice so to speak; and only then that I had the courage to ask him, half-jokingly, whether he is a bigamist or masochist.
He scratched his head and cringed, Excuse me?
To which I hurriedly pointed his shirt with B.M. prints on it, What does it mean...Bussiness Management?
He pinched his shirt, up his chest; thought of it carefully, literally tounge-in-cheek; looked me in the eyes and said, Blow Me!
I'd swear, my jaw dropped from that flagrant invitation!
tbc
He's wearing a worn-out cream printed sweat-shirt over a dark-blue untucked undergarment, heavily buckled stone-washed designer jeans, and a classic striped rubber shoes.
His hands are fidgeting restlessly inside his pockets.
He is Asian but I can't tell for sure if he's Korean or Japanese. He hardly fit the profile. In fact, his eyes are not even slanted nor chinked (boy I'm such a racist) the way most of them are. They are actually rather large, doe eyed shape setted and lucid like tot's marbles. His nose, thin, and decent. He got a shoulder-lenght very shiny hair. Black and unkempt. He is also sporting a three days old beards and whiskers that suit him just fine.
It occured to me that he was also oogling me rather unstealthily. His gaze were penetrating, swordlike and I could have been pierced, killed right there and then. But instead of averting, I fought him off with equal pert; lances and arrows. Like two knights atop their horses, we're unashamedly jousting each other. Err sizing. He then in turn, dis-armed with arresting smiles. And it broke the ice so to speak; and only then that I had the courage to ask him, half-jokingly, whether he is a bigamist or masochist.
He scratched his head and cringed, Excuse me?
To which I hurriedly pointed his shirt with B.M. prints on it, What does it mean...Bussiness Management?
He pinched his shirt, up his chest; thought of it carefully, literally tounge-in-cheek; looked me in the eyes and said, Blow Me!
I'd swear, my jaw dropped from that flagrant invitation!
tbc
Saturday, February 7, 2009
CREATIONISM?
Teaching my inquisitive god-child, Jesusito Bendicion III about creation become less daunting, especially now, when scientists discovered fossilized vertebrae of behemoth, pre-historic anaconda in Colombian forest.
He's convince, more than ever that Adam and Eve's existence from the garden of Eden was only a product of fertile imaginations of our biblical forefathers.
His change of heart, is due to this wild assumption that the creation if ever to be believe or true; then Eve could have been eaten alive by the slimy slithering serpent long before tempting them to eat the forbiden fruit.
He's convince, more than ever that Adam and Eve's existence from the garden of Eden was only a product of fertile imaginations of our biblical forefathers.
His change of heart, is due to this wild assumption that the creation if ever to be believe or true; then Eve could have been eaten alive by the slimy slithering serpent long before tempting them to eat the forbiden fruit.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
WHEN
When clouds gray, I get melancholic.
When I'm in doubt, I pout my ___.
When unclear, I twirl my ____.
When anxious, I bite and chew my ____.
But when I'm confused, I crossed my ____!
When unsure, I murmur indistinct sounds,
And when un-easy I fidget restlessly,
When aroused, I stood erect and raised my hands.
Not what you're thinking!
Weren't you loading the blanks?
When feeling threatened and powerless,
I am scampering and sulking to the ground,
When happy or sad, I smile or frown like a clown.
For hours, days and weeks, when lazy, I lie idly by.
Waiting...waiting...for something, don't know what, why.
I smirked, when amused, etch my face obtuse.
So when told to shut it,
I damn fooled, obliged...
Took the gun, squeezed the trigger, BANG!!!
STILL...I"M HERE...I REMAIN ALIVE
When I'm in doubt, I pout my ___.
When unclear, I twirl my ____.
When anxious, I bite and chew my ____.
But when I'm confused, I crossed my ____!
When unsure, I murmur indistinct sounds,
And when un-easy I fidget restlessly,
When aroused, I stood erect and raised my hands.
Not what you're thinking!
Weren't you loading the blanks?
When feeling threatened and powerless,
I am scampering and sulking to the ground,
When happy or sad, I smile or frown like a clown.
For hours, days and weeks, when lazy, I lie idly by.
Waiting...waiting...for something, don't know what, why.
I smirked, when amused, etch my face obtuse.
So when told to shut it,
I damn fooled, obliged...
Took the gun, squeezed the trigger, BANG!!!
STILL...I"M HERE...I REMAIN ALIVE
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
ALL ELSE FAILED
Her resources were now depleted. I mean, Contravida's lifestyles finally caught up with her. She declared herself bankrupt. It's too bad she did not listen to me. I'm still hoping against all odds that she'd pay me. I'm still waiting.
Monday, February 2, 2009
TAKEN 4 GRANTED
Because we're full of it. We fill high heavens in foul stench. I should have been a diciple of Ayn Rand, the originator of objectivism. Her philosophy about self-fulfilment as supreme responsibility and productivity as ultimate.
Arrrgh...just...let me go!
Arrrgh...just...let me go!
CONVENTIONS
Convention of the loons are everywhere. Look around and you wont miss 'em. No kidding. Everyday. Day in day out...they're breathing, living. And ingratiating. Greed. Wallowing. Watch 'em! Spectacular in their selfish miseries. For how long, who knows, maybe million more years. Pray indeed, Guide us. Let's be blind no more. Stop these madness. Stop the follies and these insanities. Say no more!
HERE LIES
Here lies upon lies upon lies upon lies and upon lies that I concocted. Come quick, help me drown these drinks. Suddenly, these birds wanted to be free.
EXEMPLARY
Exemplary conversations between my adorable son and your's truly would go something like this.
Me: Where are you going?
Son: Out. (He's busy straightening his hair with iron appliance).
Me: Where are you going? (I repeated ever so sickly sweet).
Son: Out! (Still minding his locks because they get curly whenever he takes a shower or wets them).
Me: WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? (Raising my voice this time, trying to get a decent reply from my querries).
Son: FUCK OFF!!! (Put down the hair appliance that I always thought giving his hair more of a problem).
Me: Come again SIR? (My hands are all tied-up behind my back and picturing myself retrieving the sharpest knife I could find from the kitchen and started weilding it hysterically to this good for nothing hooligan, my mind kind of dim and all of sudden turned crimson like a grotesque scene pulled out from horror movies).
Son: I'd be back before you know. I promise...'LUV YAH!
Me: Just stay out of trouble, You hear?...(That calm me down, the thought of bludgeoning him to death is unnecessarry. I love this stupid pest. How can I do such a thing? I even adore his shoes that he just bought with his own hard earned money)You look like a drug dealer. (I added).
Son: Cool! (Exits).
Me: Where are you going?
Son: Out. (He's busy straightening his hair with iron appliance).
Me: Where are you going? (I repeated ever so sickly sweet).
Son: Out! (Still minding his locks because they get curly whenever he takes a shower or wets them).
Me: WHERE ARE YOU GOING??? (Raising my voice this time, trying to get a decent reply from my querries).
Son: FUCK OFF!!! (Put down the hair appliance that I always thought giving his hair more of a problem).
Me: Come again SIR? (My hands are all tied-up behind my back and picturing myself retrieving the sharpest knife I could find from the kitchen and started weilding it hysterically to this good for nothing hooligan, my mind kind of dim and all of sudden turned crimson like a grotesque scene pulled out from horror movies).
Son: I'd be back before you know. I promise...'LUV YAH!
Me: Just stay out of trouble, You hear?...(That calm me down, the thought of bludgeoning him to death is unnecessarry. I love this stupid pest. How can I do such a thing? I even adore his shoes that he just bought with his own hard earned money)You look like a drug dealer. (I added).
Son: Cool! (Exits).
REVELATIONS
I have so many...I'm not even zany...Start with Browne, Sylvie...And forever be free...Also with the mystery...Of this pyramids three...From Giza Power Plant... Millenium Mysteries...Christoper Dunn answered my querries...There are more...To be precise...Yet never solved... Puzzle of our lifetimes...By the numbers...Count 'em...Parallel universe...And SOS...Nueve-Uno-Uno Conspiracies...
RBTL