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If you’ve been following my blog for the longest time you would know that I’ve been making one wrong decision after another, and today I decided to turn my life around. This epiphany that I had this morning is almost like waking up next to Emma Watson.

But, really. I woke up this morning, looked for Emma Watson, was slightly pissed off because she wasn’t there, and – BAM – epiphany. This is probably the most important decision I have ever made and I shall share it with all of you.

Today, I decided to eat salad.

What.

Anyway, what is up with those plastic containers salads are served in? Every salad I buy lately gets progressively harder to open. Somehow, the container gets progressively tighter every time I try prying them open.

These fuckers.

I wish those stupid containers would just open up easily and give up those treasures they contain within. Just like, you know, your mom. (more…)

The girlfriend and I love this quaint little restaurant near her school. The place serves awesome pasta, ginormous porkchops, and their specialty, buffalo wings. You see, I love buffalo wings. If there was a kid in chicken wing school who bullied all those nerdy asthmatic chicken wings and gave them wedgies, it must be the buffalo wings. I swear, they have an almost genetic advantage in terms of awesomeness over all those plain stupid fried chicken wings. And let’s not get started on how wimpy and lame-ass tinola wings are. Sheesh.

Anyway, for the longest time, their menu has piqued my curiosity. Okay, anything with food names written on it makes me curious and horny, but you didn’t need to know that. So my point is that this restaurant serves the most number of buffalo wing variations ever. All my life I thought that there was only one kind of buffalo wings, and that it is heavenly enough already.

Turns out I’ve been living a lie all along. You see, there are four varieties of buffalo wings. And one of them is called “Wild”. Yes, wild. Like your mom last night. (more…)

Are you man enough to eat the mighty Boy Bawang… and live?

I know I am.

Heck, I can eat a whole pack of BB (something akin to the size of La Jolla real estate) and wash it down with with a bottle of water. Make sure it’s mineral water. I don’t want to get cholera or something. And also, throw in a pack of Munchers as well. Yeah. Life is good.

I’m THAT manly.

When you’ve had a blog for a while, you’ve been sharing your thoughts with the rest of the world and of course it’s gonna be expected that when you get a bunch of regular readers you’d all be thinking on the same wavelength sooner or later. I’m sure that we have already that kind of relationship, dear loyal reader.

So I’m not gonna waste any words on this entry. I’m just gonna show you a picture of a pack of hotdogs my mom bought the other day. The company took a novel approach to the sausage packaging: they actually named the hotdogs after a celebrity endorser and actually put his picture on the packaging:

Sam Milby Hotdog

I’ll get back to you later.

*Apologies to Franz for taking too long to write this.

We all know bananaque as that delicious street treat that we often find salivating over. Who can blame you? It’s easy to get seduced by the bananaque’s many charms: the melted sugar coating, the ripe and tasty banana, deep fried, and skewered on a stick (If you have a penchant for men, I’m so sorry if that last sentence turned you on).

But did you know that bananaque can be used in more ways than one can imagine? I have done some serious pondering over the metaphysical existence of the bananaque (I was also working; hi boss!) and there is indeed more to the bananaque than eating it (and giving you a bad case of constipation afterwards). If Shawarma can test your survival skills, and Pasta is worshipped, the bananaque can save lives. It can be used as a weapon of war and terror. It can lead to more destruction than The Steaming Shawarma of Death and the wrath of the Flying Spaghetti Monster combined.

(more…)

I love pasta. Me and my girlfriend make it a point to always eat at Pizza Hut Bistro because we just plain love pasta.

I especially love it when pasta is served plain, without Banana Catsup, hotdogs and stuff.

So imagine my surprise when I found out that an entire religion is dedicated to worshipping pasta.

OMFG. (Oh My Fettucine God)

This religion, in my opinion, is totally absurd and out there. Naturally, I decided to check it out. 

Accordng to the Pastafarians, the universe was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster ("Him") who started creation with a mountain, some trees, and a “midgit”.

And the Flying Spaghetti Monster is pleased by acts of piracy and smuggling, so dressing up like a pirate is encouraged (You may snort cola out of your nose now).

I imagine, is there a Pastafarianism chapter here? I would love to attend one of their worship meetings. We’d genuflect and stuff.

According to this Uncyclopedia page, the genuflection is done in these easy steps:

• Bow the head
• Close the eyes
• Place the palms of the hands firmly over the ears.
• Sing "Lalalalalalalala!" in loud monotone until hoarse.  

(more…)