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Showing posts from July, 2007

I Don't Know Jack about Cars

This is just one of my failings as a man. I know jack-shite about cars, except that they move fast, look cool, and are comfortable, unless you're driving one of those really ancient model T's without enough cash to re-upholster. Truth of the matter is, I've long been in love with Honda car models. My brother's first car was a Honda Civic (it was an early nineties model, I forget which), and it was a very, very good car. Later on, my folks got sick of Mitsubishi and went and got themselves their own Honda, a red Honda City (this was a couple of years ago, and to this day, that car remains to be one of my favorites. It was something of an improvement on the Civic in terms of design and comfort, although word out is that the Civic had a better engine. One of the things I'd always told myself is that someday, I'll go and buy myself my own automobile. I'd consult sites like these for good deals. I'll soup it up. And call it Fred. Someday. Even if I didn'

A Quick Brown Fox Again *UPDATED*

Just a quick post while I'm at work. I am currently sans Internet at home. Either the cable or the radio antenna of my connection gave out, or the ethernet card of my laptop did. Either way, I blame the Union. I have also perfected making risotto. It is good. And creamy, for a rice dish. My friend Jon Abaca is crazy, but we all knew that a long time ago. It's refreshing to know that some things don't change. My friend John Pimentel is also crazy. And apparently, gay. And I am saying this for kicks. Life in Utero is slowly being plotted. I have to plan twenty one deaths. Zowie. I still have no finished product for Mervin's southeast Asian fiction anthology. It's either three chapters of Rakenrowl , or The Joust. All else fails, I send in Black Hole and keep myself from crying. *UPDATE* This just made my day. If only for the title. That link has a link leading to this page, which, when condensed, simply says that "British forces were said to have released

This Was Supposed to be Short

How does Neil do it? I half expect some idiot from the front row to stand up and yell that Neil's a professional writer, or for some kid from the back row to timidly ask her mommy what in blazes I was talking about. Of course, you'll have to first imagine that I was a stand-up comic doing a routine in front of a school auditorium, wherein the entire fragment of reality may very well fall apart, frothing and foaming at the seams. The question, ostensibly - or is it? - refers to how Neil Gaiman manages to blog so regularly without sounding silly or conceited, which is how most writers tend to sound (or is this just a common stereotype of the "intellectual man?"). The reason I ask this is because for the past few days, I've been logging into my blog account with the intention of coming up with a filler to bridge the gap between my last (filler) post and my next (hopefully blockbuster) post, only to sign out again because, well, I really can't get myself up to w