29 Jan
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Mike Lopez, my webhost, blogs about the world’s dumbest hacker.
29 Jan
I didn’t win the iPod Video at the Blog Parteeh.
So me, Karla, Aaron and Ajay went around looking for a Starbucks after the event, so we’d have some drinks to match our newly-acquired half-dozen boxes of Krispy Kreme donuts. And I also wanted to drink away my iPod-induced misery.
Unfortunately, we weren’t able to find a Starbucks, but we did find a quaint little place where they had good cappuccinos.
AARON: There donuts are delicious.
ME: [munching on a donut while crying] But I wanted the iPod
KARLA: Aw c’mon Ade, there are like fifty bloggers there and one iPod.
ME: But you see, I have ID# 1079! And the winner’s ID was 1078! I am emo!!! [stops crying long enough to stuff my face with another donut]
AJAY: You seem so contented enough with the donuts. And you have a nano.
ME: I’m a [stuffs two donuts into mouth] loser.
AARON: Here. Slash your wrists already! [hands me a dinner knife]
ME: No way man.
And so ends my pathetic desire to get a new iPod just weeks after I bought me a nano.
But iPod-emoness aside, it was fun. I was finally able to meet some of the people whose blogs I’ve been reading for the last year or so. And it was surprising that some people who I thought didn’t know I existed went up to me and said that they actually read my blog. I salute them for their valor. I mean, after all the creepy stuff I posted here, I was thinking that being in the same room with me would scare some people away.
But I think they mostly wanted to see if I really had man boobs.
I also noticed that the most whispered line in the Parteeh was “Siya pala un!”
28 Jan
Back from the Parteeh! Pictures in my Multiply. Blog entry coming soon.
26 Jan
Dear DtH, Human, that is. You see, I was passing by my grandma’s farm the other day, and I saw this cow. And well, she was the finest specimen of bovine meat ever. And I’m using “meat” liberally. So I went to the cow, and I got a whiff it’s aroma… and… and… and… What have I gotten myself into?! (please, no “beef curtain” puns) – Desperate for Bovine
I have never been laid in my life. Ever. I mean, I try to make a move and get some every now and then, but I really can’t. Pathetic. you see, I’m just an ugly piece of crap and I’m never gonna get the taste of a female in my life ever.
I’m not gonna go into the specifics, but let me just say grandma caught the cow and me with my pants down and we’re getting married this week. I want a HUMAN wife, DtH!
(more…)
23 Jan
So I was on my way home yesterday and I was looking for an FX taxi. It had been a long day and I was tired and was willing to elbow my way into any mode of transportation just to get home and catch some z’s. Unfortunately, 7pm in Espana Avenue isn’t really an ideal time to catch a ride, mainly because the entire Quiapo population would converge in Espana, usually to frustrate the heck out of me (and probably stick a knife up my ribs to rob me of my money).
So I saw this FX taxi, which had one passenger alighting. And then, I saw seven or eight Quiapo denizens swarming on the taxi like flies. I took the chance. I immediately took my action-star pose (which probably didn’t look half as dramatic as I hoped because of my potbelly) and did my action star sprint (again, the awesomeness was hampered because my manboobs were jiggling). Lo and behold, the people jumped out of my way! I jumped into the seat, and closed the door. Success!
Not.
Damn, it sure was cramped in the FX. Well, there was another fat guy at the end of the row, so there was only room enough for one extremely small gerbil. But desperate as I am, I persisted on squeezing myself into the small space, and I saw that I was sitting beside an extremely pretty lady. So, I was sweating and panting like mad because of my two-feet run and I was hunched up inside an FX with a pretty girl. In awkward positions. With me getting cramps on my left leg.
So it was for the remainder of the 45-minute trip, me and the pretty girl sitting in silence. Me avoiding her gaze. She trying hard to telepathically project her thoughts of “Get off at the next stop, you fugly fat man!”.
And so, I have reaffirmed my reputation as the guy to bring along when you DON’T want to get laid.
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