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Dear Stalker,

It’s been three days since you started to call me up. I know it must be cute for you to call me up three times in a row when I’m working and twice when I’m in the shower. And you probably think it’s cute to just shut up and giggle like a schoolgirl when I ask who the hell are you. But that time you called me up at 3:30 am when I was dead tired was too much.

Problem is, I don’t think we’ll work out. I don’t know who you are, what you do, what you look like, or even if you really are a girl. I don’t know anything about you, except your number that makes me groan in agony when I see it flashing on my cellphone screen. You could at least text me and say “Can we be TEXMET?” so I could text you back a big fat no. But no, you keep calling me, keep annoying me, and keep on giggling like a schoolgirl on crack.

I’m sorry, we can’t be together. We are just too different. I don’t waste my time calling up people at random and subsequently stalking them. I waste my time stalking people at random over the blogosphere. Yes, I also giggle like a schoolgirl when I stalk people, but that’s different.

Besides, I. Have. A. Girlfriend. I am NOT interested in somebody else. It is a law of nature that committed guys are genetically unable to have crushes on another girl (Especially Jessica Alba), so I cannot, by any law of nature, like you.

So I hope you understand, and please stop calling me. If you want somebody to stalk, I can give you the number of my good friend Roel who has been complaining of a dry spell these last three months.

Sincerely,
Ade

P.S. Go to hell.

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Dear Brain,

How are you? It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve last heard from you, and frankly, I don’t know what you’ve been up to. I need your help, old friend. You see, I’m having trouble updating this blog of mine for some time now, because you’re not cooperating. I’ve been asking you for ideas for some time now. But all you’ve been giving me are mediocre ideas that I can’t even expound on. Quite frankly, I can’t imagine “The Awesomeness of Judi Dench’s Wrinkles” making anybody laugh.

Why can’t you come up with those awesome stuff that we used to make just a few months ago? We used to be an awesome duo. I just look at some totally gross picture, and then your gears start running and then we come up with the awesomest blog entries evar. Why have you abandoned me? I never failed in fulfilling my obligations to you: I get enough sleep, I eat nutritious food, I read all the smut, I mean, scientific journals that I can get my hands on to keep you informed. What more can you ask for? All I’m asking is that you just get back to your old self and be awesome again.

So brain, I hope that you hear my impassioned plea and that you also help me out here. Thanks.

Sincerely,
Ade

Technorati Tags: writer’s block

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Dear Judges,

I have absolutely no idea who did it (no, wait, I do), but I’ve been nominated in the 2007 Philippine Blog Awards, in the Entertainment (along with The Man Blog), Personal and Blogger’s Choice Award categories. I think I fit more into the Darwin Awards, but that’s just me. I know my readers follow my exploits because they just want to make fun of how I totally mess up my life and I know they are waiting for the time I end up as a beggar in Quiapo who sells sexual favors for a buck apiece, but thanks anyway.

Ah, the sweet taste of victory.

(more…)

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Dear Faggort Who Refused to Stop Rubbing My Bird on the MRT,

I know we haven’t met before and I know you may have been taken by my Dominic Ochoa-like ways. I know that as fugly as you are, you haven’t had secks since like forever. I pity you. But not enough for pity secks.

Why the hell do you think that rubbing your hand against my bird is such a good thing? I know it’s pretty crowded and all and I know that you may have a thing for public secks, but geez, that’s just plain gross. Haven’t you already taken a hint when I pushed your hand away and moved two inches back? You really had to move closer to me everytime I move away. And is “back off, buddy” Greek to you? Do I have to speak fag so you’d understand me?

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Mr. Ade Magnaye,

It has come to my attention that in the seven months since you became single, your financial, emotional, sexual, and physical well-being has been in a state of constant decline. Yes, I know, you have the urge to tear this letter apart this very moment, and I don’t blame you. In fact, you have every reason to tear this letter apart and jump from the roof of your garage and land facefirst onto the pavement. Again. Hey, it’s your life and I don’t care if you want to waste it by being depressed like fuck and hiding under a blanket and the 20+ pillows you keep in your bedroom.

But hey, hear me out for once, okay? You fucking need some straightening out. (more…)

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Dear Nose,

So how are you doing? I sure hope that all is well and good, and that you and your family (that little thing we call the “respiratory system”) are doing great. I do my best to take care of you all by not smoking, trying hard to not breathe in pollution, and by not inhaling anthrax. So I must be sure you’re doing good. I wish I could say the same for me, but here’s a little problem: you’re making me fucking sneeze all morning long.

It’s the first day of my Christmas leave, you see? I woke up after an awesome full night’s sleep (one of two things I haven’t had in a long time. The other is secks) expecting to have a busy day ahead, with me torrenting lots of movies, porn, games, and basically being a bum. A busy bum. Awesome, right? Well, I thought it was going to be, until hay fever kicked in. (more…)

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Hi,

First off let me get the obligatory inroductory speech out of the way. My name is Ade Magnaye, blogger extrordinaire. Internet celebrity. Rock star. Stalker magnet. Member of the awesomiffic group of perverts and child pornographers, The Man Blog. I usually order Chai Tea Latte, in the hope that you won’t see me as the usual frappucino-ordering ilk and that you see me as posh and shit. I bring my laptop everytime and pretend to surf the internet, but seeing I can’t afford your shop’s stupid expensive wireless, I actually stare at my desktop wallpaper every single time. I go every every other day to the coffee shop you work in so I could ogle at your wonderfully beautiful chinita face from a distance. And wank off in the bathroom.

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