Thursday, November 29, 2007

My Kind of Woman

The title has nothing to do with this post.
To those who opened this because of the title,
you have been hoodwinked, haw haw.

One day, Martin Cruz woke up and discovered that he had become a multimillionaire. Then he promptly fell asleep and began dreaming that he was underpaid. His rational mind decided that that was the state of all writers all over the world, and that photographers and painters who take very little time perfecting a single painting or a photograph - no offense to those reading this, and this statement technically breaks the fourth, fifth, and whatever walls of this story masquerading as a blog entry - but get paid more than a genius hack who sweats blood, tears, and alcohol for weeks to come up with a brilliant paragraph.

Right now, in his dream, Martin Cruz is sitting on his laptop, typing out something, while the news is busy telling the story of a coup d'etat happening. The Peninsula Manila has become the barracks of Trillanes, whoever he is, and he is demanding for the unholy, unmitigated, wholehearted resignation of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, who, during her own time and prime, did the same for Joseph "Erap" Estrada.

"Again, the hotel. Why do they always use hotels as their fortresses," thought Martin Cruz. "If I were to stage a coup, I would take over one of the big malls. Not only do you have a fortress, you have a maze. You could hide from your enemies, situate strategic shooters and spotters with very little trouble, and you could hoard items from nearby stores, such as Aji Ichiban and Starbucks, with impunity. You wouldn't run out of supplies."

Right now, he's thinking of getting his arse moving, getting dressed so that he can make his way to Gilmore to get himself a Netgear wireless router, the stuff of his dreams for weeks now. He likened it to a girl, a beautiful, cheerful looking woman. She would smile when he looked her way, maybe perhaps blush a little. He would grin at this, kiss her lightly on the forehead, and watch her snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, like a remote part of his body.

Of course, the router had very little in common with that perfect woman, but Martin Cruz imagines that the router, once acquired, would hit him in pretty much the same manner.

"Don't go out today," says Martin Cruz's father. "If things escalate, you could get in trouble."

Martin thinks, "If I had a bottle of whiskey (which I do) and somebody tried to stop me, then there'd be trouble. Otherwise, I'm good."

The news says that the door of Manila Pen just collapsed. Martin Cruz's father is laughing from the safety of his home.

Martin Cruz closes his laptop, thinks about disconnecting it so his niece could use the Internet. It's time to take a bath. The women of the world could wait, for now. The Makati situation didn't matter. All he wanted was the router that could make his insides boil with feverish strokes, his heart leap like a matador in the ring. There was nothing else that mattered as of this moment, in his dream.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Test Barrage

What Kind of Girl Will You Fall For?

You will fall for the cutie. You like girls with a personality. She's got to have a nice smile and a sense of humor. Although she doesn't have to be a model, she has to be that girl-next-door.
Find Your Character @

This seems to be true. Yoink.

Which Famous Artist Are You?

You are Leonardo da Vinci. You are the "Renaissance man" and you live to be productive. Great at everything you put your mind to, you have great passion and drive. But of all qualities, your curiosity is your best trait.
Find Your Character @

Wow, a renaissance man. I wish.

What Type of Drunk Are You?

You are an Excessive Drunk. You drink to get drunk and you won't settle for anything less.
Find Your Character @

True, true.

Which Springfield Resident Are You?

You are part Ned Flanders. You see yourself as morally superior to most everyone else, and the absurdity of others can drive you nuts! Despite your kindness and honesty, though, your do-good attitude can reach an annoying degree.
You are part Krusty the Clown. Being the life of the party isn't always easy. Most people adore your vibrant and unique sense of humor, even though it's just a facade disguising your cynical outlook on life.
Find Your Character @

Is it just me, or are these tests becoming more and more accurate?

Monday, November 26, 2007


I know it's horrible, but leave me be - I seldom do flash fiction. :D

He leapt out of the window just as the entire building collapsed into a million pieces, although the building was a metaphor; jumping was an arguable concept. The outcome was, of course, undeniably gritty.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Very Incomprehensible Ending, This

Apologies for the ending - I needed to clear my mind

It's almost been a week since my last update. I could blame the fact that I don't have readily available internet here (by readily available, I mean I don't just turn on the laptop and voila! Internet - I have to lug the machine about just to connect). It's been a week since I arrived here, and I've been at a stable 100 kilos, which I can hopefully maintain for the next few months. And since Christmas is just around the corner, we all know just how difficult that'll be, what with the food, the booze, the food, the shopping (which leads to eating out) and again, the food. I'll have to increase the amount of exercise I do just to keep up with the sudden deluge.

It really has been a pretty good week. I miss the amazing mountain air of Buena Vista, and the walks I have to do just to get around the city, but other than that, it's been awesome. The beers have been moving (or to be precise, the alcohol's been moving), the parties and gimiks have been happening. Manila really is the city where shit happens for no reason at all, and this is what I've been missing the entire time I was in Mindanao. There were very few stay-up-til-dawn gimiks back in CdO, where life was so idyllic and so irritatingly predictable, you'd wish for a sudden explosion a couple of blocks away just to keep yourself entertained. Just a couple of nights ago, I went out with an acquaintance and ended up in Greenhills with a bunch of friends and a couple of bottles - which quickly escalated to a drinkfest.

Man, those things hit me real good.

But there really is something missing. I can't put my finger on it, but one thing hasn't changed.

Well, actually, I'm lying. I know what it is. But some things you just can't control.

Whatever it is, though, I'm sure I'll be fine. I've got friends and family here, a steady mix of unwanted company and unwelcome solitude - what an ironic situation! - and no matter what happens, I am still the conqueror (according to Jon Abaca) and I will remain the conqueror, for I am, after all, a force to be reckoned with.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Clarity in Three Parts

Maraming beses na kitang nilayasan
Iniwanan at iba ang pinuntahan
Parang babaeng mahirap talagang malimutan
Ikaw lamang ang aking laging binabalikan

Manila, Manila
I keep coming back to Manila
Simply no place like Manila
Manila, I'm coming home

I walked the streets of San Francisco
I've tried the rides in Disneyland
Dated a million girls in Sydney
Somehow I feel like I don't belong

Hinahanap-hanap kita Manila
Ang ingay mong kay sarap sa tenga
Mga Jeepney mong nagliliparan
Mga babae mong naggagandahan
Take me back in your arms Manila
And promise me you'll never let go
Promise me you'll never let go

Manila, Manila
Miss you like hell, Manila
No place in the world like Manila
I'm coming here to stay

Too, uh, cheesy to mention. Check the lyrics here.

I've been drunk or inebriated every day of this week since Saturday last week; since I'm holding an inuman party later on tonight, it suffices to say that it will have been a week filled with alcohol, my breaks being only Wednesday - which saw me spending wads of cash at the airport - and Monday, wherein I was negotiating like a Boeing 747 with trade winds at 200kph at Cepalco. It has been a very very interesting week indeed.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007


Right now, there is only one thing I want.

Yes. Just one thing.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Enter Fire and Brimstone Here

Okay, the previous weekend was something else. It started out as a really small fault on my part (sloth, one of the deadly sins, is my best friend), but escalated into something really, really massive that lasted from late Friday evening and was just resolved a couple of hours ago.

Orright. So let's own up first. I'm very, very lax when it comes to paying my bills, especially my electricity bills since the damn things usually don't go beyond PhP350.00, so to make it seem like I was actually using the electricity, I usually wait for two months before paying the entire shabang. Yes, it's a bad habit, I know, one that I need to fix, but that's not the point of this now is it. Anyway. The other day, the guys from CEPALCO arrived to cut off the line - something I was expecting, anyway, so I didn't bother none about it too much. I just finished dressing up, packed up my laptop, and headed to Cafe Ganaderos for a nice cup of coffee and free wi-fi. I passed by the CEPALCO office on the way, and paid my dues. I was pleasantly surprised when the attendant on duty told me that the company would probably have the power back on by six that evening; I was expecting at least a day's worth of waiting. So it was a relatively good day, so far.

I worked at Ganaderos to something around five thirty-ish, and made myself scarce, since I had to be on site when the power was reconnected (I think I had to sign some documents that stated that the grunts were doing their jobs). I got home in twenty minutes, and proceeded to wait in the dark for the people who would re-install the metre (which, I noticed, was missing from the wall when I got back).

Two hours later, and there wasn't even a twitter on my door. So I thought that maybe okay, services here weren't any different from the ones in Manila. I could wait a day. So I pack up for the night, head out to town for a beer or two, and get back to the house to sleep (Of course, I don't think I really got to sleep any that night; adrenalin from walking home kept me up the entire time).

At around eleven AM the next day, the people from CEPALCO still hadn't shown up, so to give them a not-so-friendly nudge towards my direction, I made my way to the nearest branch. The same woman I'd spoken to the previous day was pretty shocked when she found out that the power hadn't been restored, and promised me that the servicemen would be around by three later this afternoon; I had to work, so I asked if they could make it by six pm instead, but found out to my dismay that service during Saturdays ended at four.

Well, c'est la vie, I thought. I worked on what I could work on at Cafe Ganaderos, then at two thirty, hightailed it home so that I could be on hand to brat at the servicemen when they arrived.
Again, two hours later, at exactly four-oh-ten, there wasn't even the slightest tap on the door. CEPALCO had failed me once again.

To work off the irritation, I worked out for the rest of the afternoon, took a bath, and headed to Gabby's house for the evening drinking session. We ended up finishing a bottle of Ginebra Premium Gin and a smaller bottle of GSM Blue whilst watching Cowboy Bebop and Rockstar, and we adjourned at three in the morning. I spent the night at his place, and woke up feeling rather good - or, as John and Soren called it later on when we met up at Green Haven, "very Peter Parker-ish."

Sunday was a segue of sorts. I was only mildly pissed off by the fact that I still didn't have power, and that I missed around half a day's worth of work previously. I made my way to my house, took a bath, dressed up, and headed for the lunch rendezvous at Green Haven in Limketkai (Mongolian grill eat-all-you-can for PhP180 suckaz), and after three heaped bowls of all the food I could stomach, we headed out to mall for a bit. I swear, I was to pretty girls what a lightning rod was to lightning on a stormy night that day. It only helped to bolster my mood.

Later on in the evening, some of the BOTW people cornered me at the office and proceeded to drag me to a surprise despedida party (with all the bottles of alcohol present, I needed very little convincing). I ended up with a bottle of Ben More 5 years blended Scottish whiskey, and a card with this on the back:

which really, really made my day. :) Anthony Tisara, remind me to beat you up the next time I see you haha!

The battle for electricity at #4 Hughes Apartment raged on come Monday, however. It was twelve in the afternoon, I still didn't have electricity, and I was hungrier than a Kodiak bear during the peak of the summer heat. I snarled my way to the CEPALCO office, only to be told on my face that there was a problem with my meter - it was too fast (so I was paying more than what I should have been paying??) when the guy disconnected my line, which led to the re-installation delays.

I wanted to rain fire and brimstone at the woman then and there, destroy whatever remained of her ego into miniscule itty-bitty little pieces and leave them out as carrion for the crows to eat. I wanted to know why the hell I wasn't informed by the doofus who took away my metre when I was there sulking the entire time he was hacking away at the bloody wires? Why wasn't the incident included in the payment report? Why, after all this time, do I only find out NOW that I had to go to the main office, wait in line for four hours, and argue with some feel-good customer representative as to when the line could be fixed and power restored (which was what I did after trading dead air with the bimbo at the other office).

At the end of Monday, even with the promise of power restoration the next day, I felt like getting myself a lawyer and suing the pants off each and every CEPALCO executive. I mean, I would have understood if that guy'd only been so kind as to tap on my door, tell me "Sir, naguba ra ang imong meter," one of the few sentences in Bisaya that I could understand without playing pretend. Or if I were told beforehand. I wouldn't have missed two and a half days of work. I wouldn't be going on full throttle right now, two days before I left the city, just to make up for the tasks I missed. I'd be finishing up my packing, or finding somebody to buy the closet or the desk. I'd have bought myself a bloody balikbayan box for the things that wouldn't fit in my maleta.

But NO! NIET! Nein! I just had to deal with idiots during the entire time I spent at every goddamned CEPALCO office. My power had to be disconnected by the dumbest, most unprofessional serviceman in history.

I think this is one of the reasons God made sure I never went past high yellow in either tae kwon do or karate.

The Desktop Tag Game

Okay; this is the desktop tag game, which KC tagged me to do. Here's the current desktop theme on my laptop; pretty simple, uses the default Windows XP theme. The background is taken from the anime Haibane Renmei, a pretty deep cartoon about death and rebirth. I usually don't like having a cluttered up desktop; most of the things you see here are quick icons, some documents I haven't trashed yet, some of the music from Paradise Kiss, and torrents.

To the left is one of the most impressive developments in instant messaging to date, a nifty little program called Pidgin. The window docks rather nicely at the leftmost side of the screen without limiting the screen space, and it lets me connect to a multitude of connectivity services at will.

When I'm working, however . . . .

. . . the scenery shifts to something like this. You have the browser to one side, two other documents on the other. If I could enlarge the DPI size of my screen a bit more, I'd have four windows open at once, one of the things I'm famous for.

For the people i dragged into this game, here are the mechanics:

A. Upon receiving this tag, immediately perform a screen capture of your desktop. It is best that no icons be deleted before the screen capture so as to add to the element of fun.

You can do a screen capture
by: [1] Going to your desktop and pressing the Print Scrn key (located on the right side of the F12 key). [2] Open a graphics program (like Picture Manager, Paint, or Photoshop) and do a Paste (CTRL + V). [3] If you wish, you can “edit” the image, before saving it.

B. Post the picture in your blog. You can also give a short explanation on the look of your desktop just below it if you want. You can explain why you preferred such look or why is it full of icons. Things like that.

C. Tag five of your friends and ask them to give you a Free View of their desktop as well.

D. Add your name to this list of Free Viewers with a link pointing directly to your Desktop Free View post to promote it to succeeding participants.

I tag everybody who finds this amusing.

Next post: a rant!

Saturday, November 10, 2007

A Quick Note

Just FYI. My flight, due to a bunch of unknown reasons, has been moved to November 15 at 4pm. So that means that

  1. I get to work on the 14th and the 15th
  2. I get to work out on the 14th
  3. I get to take it easy on the packing and fire sale
  4. I have to stay here one more bloody day.
Ah well. What's one more day, anyway.

Friday, November 09, 2007

Working at 30 mph!

When I first acquired the Motorola L6, I was so taken by its design and functions that I told myself that I wouldn't be changing models anytime soon. It had all I needed at the time, and so long as the machine worked the way it was supposed to, I was happy.

But since I'm going back to Manila, I'm expecting a heavy storm of road trips and gimiks. But I've got work. From what I've been going through lately, lots of work. The client thinks I am inexhaustible, which is a bloody lie.

So I'm thinking of getting a new handset. And, successively, a new line. Smart, this time around. Because the Smart 3G feature has caught my attention. Imagine! Working online at speeds of 25kph! At ten pesos per thirty minutes!

The idea boggles the mind. Any ideas on a 3g-capable handset?

Thursday, November 08, 2007


I SING the Body electric;

The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul.

- Walt Whitman

Wednesday, November 07, 2007


Right now, pork is the only thing I can say.

If that's the way you want things, then I'm all for it. If it means improvement, if it means the betterment of things, then I say GO!

Well! I finished an entire bottle of Tanduay, and I'm still spelling correctly and not messaging anybody I don't know. Damn!

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Reminiscing the Past Year

Three posts in one day? Me? I must be setting a new record!

Well, maybe not. But since this is the first day of my last full week here in Cagayan de Oro, it felt like a good time to post some photos and reminisce. After all, tomorrow's Monday, and the gods of Advibe Media felt good enough to drop two more atomic bombs on my own personal Hiroshima and Nagasaki, which means that unless some miracle happens, I'll be stressed out by the end of the day for the next week.

Anyway. Let's begin our trip down last year with photos from my village, the aptly named Buena Vista Village in Baranggay Patag, Cagayan de Oro.

While this isn't exactly my street, Pearl Avenue is the one main street within the village. The avenue starts from the highway, where you will be greeted by an empty lot that always, for some reason, smells like someone had been smoking marijuana in it. The empty lot faces this pretty big townhouse and this small sari-sari store called Eddie's Place, where my former labandera lives. Further down the road, you'll run into the Opus Dei-run Kitanglad Study Center on your right, which is actually an empty villa that numeraries from Cebu take care of once every two weeks - this is usually during the weekends. I spent my second week in the city at the center, where my companions were the night guard Ponce, and the caretaker, Kuya Toto Oladria. Back when I still smoked, I shared a lot of stories with these two. Now, I see them once in a while, but since the pad where I live in is further into the village, I rarely get to spend much time with those two. I must drop by with a bottle of Tanduay one of these days.

This stretch of road you see on the right is the highway just outside my village. The damn thing overlooks a series of rice paddies down the mountainside, and in the morning, when the dew is just setting in, the sunrise can be pretty breathtaking. This section is at the foot of the mountain, so you won't see much. However, if you shift the view a little bit more to the right . . . .

. . . you'll see this little hole in the wall. The sign's too small to be visible from this shot, but this humble little shack is Bob's House of Bulalo, the legendary "Home of Creamy Shake in Town." Yes, the grammar is horrible, I know. But Mr. Bob, the owner of this place and my personal bartender of sorts, is an impressive cook, and sneers at the Batanguenyo method of cooking bulalo with corn kernels. The place is something like Manila's own Barrio Fiesta, except that you can get bowls of hot bulalo with rice for thirty-eight pesos here, and a bottle of ice-cold pale pilsen is twenty five pesos. And in case you were wondering, yes. This place also serves one of the best-tasting fruit shakes I have ever had in my entire life.

Pardon the miniscule thumbnails - just click on them for a better view. These are the front door, lobby, and the reception room, respectively, of the company I work for, Stickymedia Solutions Incorporated. The office can be found at the Merrel II building in downtown Divisoria, within spitting distance of all the bloody cabarets within the city, as well as the VIP Hotel, which was once a high-class place but has now succumbed to the pull of the economy, and now serves as the hub for majority of the pimps within downtown CdO. The office is filled with some of the biggest geeks I have ever had the pleasure of encountering; the CEO has a Naruto figurine sitting on his desk's terminal. Within the office you can find empty Herbalife canisters (thanks to Riza Rodano, the local Herbalife pusher), FHM Magazines, porn galore, an unused microwave and coffee maker (we never seem to have coffee beans, and yet the management insists on keeping that monster within the premises), and, depending on the season or the event, bags of lanzones and an ice chest full of empty beer bottles. I kid you not.

When it's time for dinner, there are myriad choices within Divisoria alone. JRJ Fried Chicken, for one, is a pretty popular choice. Imagine dining on Kentucky fried chicken-style chicken fresh from the vats, getting your choice cutlet of chicken (because you choose the slice you want to eat from a heap of chicken cuts like the photo to the right). You then eat them with your hands - cutlery is nonexistent in almost all JRJ branches - from basket plates covered with a banana leaf. The best part is the cost; each JRJ fried chicken costs anywhere from sixteen to eighteen pesos (the eighteen peso variant can only be found in the airconditioned JRJ outlet within Divisoria), while cups of rice range from three to five pesos. I tell you, this joint is the fastest, most delicious way to clogging your heart valves.

All the grease you can handle for forty-two clams.

This man to the right is John Pimentel, also known in some circles as Shazbot, within the BOTW team as Optimus Pimps, and recently - since the bastard got married and acquired for himself a ring - the Pimp Lantern. I call him Keannu Ribs. He is, without a doubt, one of the biggest geeks I know, and is currently my artist for a webcomic called Continuum because he knows he's a badass and that's reason enough for me to call him to arms. This guy is the only other writer I deem as my peer within the company (Lia is an exception because she handles the payroll), and helped make my stay here a whole lot more enjoyable.

The only qualm I have with this guy is the fact that he is a total wuss when it comes to alcohol. The first time I dragged his sorry ass out drinking, the guy shrivelled after the first pitcher of gin-pomelo and used his wife (back then, Jovie was his girlfriend) as an excuse to go home and fumigate his stomach. He never hears the end of it from me.

This guy pictured below is Soren "Kabong" Chavez, the resident corrupted gretchin of BOTW. He is rapidly expanding thanks to his introduction to beer courtesy of me, is a geek of such magnitude second only to John Pimps, and is the victim of a rather surprisingly deprived childhood, having never witnessed shows such as Batibot, Bioman, Thundercats, Silverhawks, Dino Riders, Voltron, Voltes V, Centurions, Tiger Shark, Karate Kat, Street Frogs, Gummi Bears, Mazinger Z, and a whole gamut of other cartoons that people of my generation should have immersed themselves in, and is a pushover. This guy is a more stolid drinker than John Pimps, but this other friend of ours, Joseph Javier (the only guy I know who competed in a local vale-tudo martial arts match), outdrinks him.

We call him the lapdog. I think we were threatening to mangle his penis in this shot.

This man on the left is Gabriel Medina. Just when I was despairing that everybody I went drinking with couldn't go the mile with me whenever I felt like getting wasted something awful, this guy pops up. He's thirty-seven years old, more than a decade my senior, and has a nasty stutter, but the man's worth his weight in gold. I've never encountered such a master artist (he beats even you, Bruce), and I am proud to say that he is now collaborating with me on a long-slumbering project. This guy once did a one-man show composed of ten paintings - ten of which he did from scratch within the time span of a month. A month! Portrait-sized paintings within a month! He finished a cross-hatching diagram bust of a dark-skinned character wearing a dark shirt within ten minutes! Ten bloody minutes! The man is a genius! And he can drink one small bottle of gin all by himself! I can't believe he has to live all the way here in the middle of nowhere.

He also happens to have a large collection of salakots. He even has a pair that are of the exact same design as the ones my lolo left behind. Here is a photo of me with one of the said hats. If you'll notice the furniture at the back, you'll see a series of paintings; those are just some of Gabby's works that can be found throughout their home.

Gabby also has a pair of Altec Lansing speakers. If, within the limited time alloted to me within this city, I catch him unawares and drunk, those speakers shall vanish from his house, this city, this part of the country forever.

Okay, Gab, I'm kidding.

Anyway. That's pretty much most of the things worth mentioning about my life within the loving - and sometimes, boring - arms of Cagayan de Oro. I'd love to visit this place once in a while, since it
is really beautiful, and I've made a lot of pretty fascinating friends here. But I wouldn't want to live here for very long. :P I leave you all with one of the earliest photos I took within the city: an afternoon scene in the Park Cafe.

The Park Cafe. Where beautious bodies hang out during weekends, for some reason.

Here's Something Fun

Go to Google and type in quotation marks your name and then "likes to" (ex. "Tom likes to"). Type in the first ten things that come up and repost in your own blog.

1. Martin likes to pee on people (I do not. I know someone who does, though)
2. Martin likes to paraphrase G. K. Chesterton to show that he, too, takes his polling modestly: "A drunkard uses a lamp pole for support, not for illumination." (I don't know what this implies, but I love G.K. Chesterton. My dad says I'm his reincarnation.)
3. Martin likes to say that his factory tour helps to sell guitars. (I sell guitars? Really? I wish!)
3. Martin likes to tackle the higher peaks in Scotland and also plays the fiddle and bagpipes. (I'd love to do this one day. In a kilt!)
4. Martin likes to ride his scooter, an Aprilia Habana 125. (I'd rather have a 1992 Honda Civic Hutchback. Souped up.)
5. Martin likes to drink alllllllll the diet coke in the fridge (it's healthy). (Ogh. I hate soda. Beer sounds like a better substitute.)
6. Martin likes to listen to techno, rock or a little bit of everything. (Yep, I do.)
7. Martin, likes to spend piles of time online. (This is sometimes true. Other times, I am expected to. Sigh.)
8. Martin likes to tell the story that he turned to a career in law because of a traffic accident during a visit home to Sewickley, Pa., from college. (Riiiiiiiight.)
9. Martin likes to hear. (Yes, I do. Very much so.)
10. Martin likes to have someone nearby and not feel left by himself. (Hahaha! No comment.)

I tag everybody who reads this and finds it funny.

Say Wha?

Now, I'm not one to remember most of my dreams. Ask my friends. Ask my cousins. They remember their dreams. Not me.

But once in a while, I do remember the things I dream about whilst slumbering. Take last night, for example. I dreamt of a Degrassi episode, except that I didn't know who all the characters were. The main character, though, was this girl from Mirrormask, except that her name was Maxine.

The story revolved around the trial of Mike Tyson. The defense attorney - the good guy Maxine and company was helping out - was none other than Kermit the Frog. The prosecution was Kermit's mother, who (apparently) was a more malevolent version of Hexus from Fern Gully: The Last Rainforest.

I don't know where my mind got all that, but I'll have whatever it was having. I don't even watch Degrassi.

Friday, November 02, 2007

When You Can't Sleep...

Hunger is your worst opponent.

I am hungry. Very very very hungry. I only have oatmeal and rhum in the house. And I can't sleep.

I'm going into town again. The problem with that is that today (and tomorrow) are actually holidays, so I'm thinking that the chances of me finding a motorela to take me to town are very very slim.

So wish me luck, friends. Or else I walk. For two hours. In the dead of night. I'm brining an arnis stick and a knife, just to be safe.

By the way, I'd like to greet two really fantastic people, who're both celebrating their birthdays today. The first is my graphic designer and artist friend extraordinaire Camille Del Rosario, who, up to this day, is one of the few people (women!) I know capable of downing twelve shots of tequilla; and no, she technically didn't make it out alive, hahaha!

The second is my ultra-cool father, Vic Cruz, from whom I inherited the amazing Cruz legacy of imbibing enough liquor to fill a distillery. You - and subsequently, I - have inspired hosts of people who visit the hallowed grounds of Mt. Narciso to bring that legacy to new heights. My friends will attest to that.