Which Saiyuki Boy is GAY?!

I just had to share this one.



Aw, well. Let's spread the love.

You know the TV pollutes you when...

Finally! After eons of being on blogging-hiatus, I am back! -happy dance-

During vacation, one of my favorite hobbies was watching TV. Oh, well, what do you expect me to do? Sleep?! No way! Weeks ago, I decided I would note anything remarkable the TV presents me. I’ve only gathered a few, but anyway, who cares?

You know your TV pollutes you when…

1. You see a girl crying over her weight.

You should have seen it! I was watching last Sunday, I think, when by accident I stumbled upon this reality show which invites people to the house of this certain dude and they’re compelled to do some stuff which I don’t really care what. (PBB is what it’s called. Any idea?)

Anyway, there was this girl who gained some weight during the course of her stay in the house. She was tasked to lose weight, but I think after a week, she failed to do so even though there was someone ordered to look after her diet. All the people in the house were gathered and the mysterious dude from nowhere announced to all of them that yeah, this girl failed to lose weight or something like that. I couldn’t believe what I saw afterwards. The girl was crying over her weight! Was that for friggin’ real?!

That struck me as absolutely pathetic. Who on earth would waste her tears over her weight? Of all damn things?

2. You see a governor trying to deny something – by shouting.

I am not sure where this female governor came from but she was trying to deny that jueteng is present in her area. I think she was accused that she hasn’t totally eliminated this very unpleasant thingy – something which I think almost every self-righteous person considers a sin. (As if these guys who deny it don’t participate in that!)

The governor was interviewed to say her piece about the allegation. The reporter politely asked her what her response was. To my disbelief, she began yelling, denying everything in a high-pitched voice which hurt my ears. Cripes, was she screaming bloody murder! She screeched something like: No, there’s no jueteng in my place! Absolutely untrue! There’s no jueteng here!

Whoa, lady. If you really want to repel the finger pointing, calm yourself down before facing the media. Geez, you certainly act guiltily. There’s no point getting excited if all their accusations are false, you know.

3. You see a senator-wannabe answer a question with “hindi ko alam ‘yan”.

This is the stupidest and funniest of ‘em all. I garnered all the patience in my veins to watch this show by GMA-7 called ‘Isang Tanong’. They gathered there all senator-wannabes and asked them questions concerning Philippine politics and economy. This is in hope of serving as the people’s guide in choosing the candidate that would surely be an excellent person to be one of the country’s leaders.

So, they had the chance to ask Victor Wood – a singer who wanted to serve the country. I think it was something about charter change – Chacha as we all know it. Could you believe, Wood said, “Are you talking about blah blah? Hindi ko alam ‘yan.” I gaped there, astounded.

Geez, and to think Wood aspires to be one of the country’s most powerful men. Who would want to elect someone without a clue as to how politics progresses?

4. You see a groom flirting with another woman right during the wedding ceremony.

This is ridiculous. I flipped through channels in hope of finding some decent show to watch. I ended up listening to Kelly Clarkson’s song titled “Behind These Hazel Eyes”.

Anyway, the setting is like this: They’re getting married and the woman realizes that she doesn’t want to marry the cheating bastard who happened to be – surprise! – her fiancé. Sometime between the song, I saw the groom – I dunno, wink? – at the girl near the altar.

Crap.

Talk about flirtatious grooms.

That is something!

5. You see a man who prefers sluts and admits he’s a professional idiot.

Anyone watching Blind Date out there? Well, me, I watch it. Haha.

As part of the usual thingies they do, the host introduces the people set up for some blind date. The guy said some crap about himself – I wasn’t the slightest bit interested, so I forgot about them. The screen then flashed something which said about the dude, and it went like this:

Likes: Slutty girls

Uh-huh. No comment from me.

The guy continues by saying he’s a professional idiot.

Oh.

I still managed to pacify myself, but I had to laugh when the host said that this guy was the first to admit that to the whole freakin’ world. Why am I not surprised. Wait, just what is it with the term professional before the word idiot? Huh? Huh? Do you need to be professional just to be an idiot?

What really cracked me up was when the guy said this very quotable quote of his:

I wanna make the world a dumber place.

Man, you don’t have to try so hard. The world’s already a dumb place. You’re the living proof of such fact.

Hahahahaha!

6. You begin hearing over it as overweight!

Look, I am quite unsure as to what kind of insanity I had that time. I just turned on the TV and managed to find my way to MTV. Out of boredom, I listened to the song being played.

I observed it was fine, not very excellent, but fine. Not cute either. Not something you’d want to repeat over and over. Anyway, I wasn’t really listening to the lyrics.

Then came the chorus.

“I’m so overweight…!”

Huh?

Did I hear that one right?

Shaking my head to drive away ennui and lassitude, I listened again. I was thinking, The hell, I always get polluted when I turn on the freakin’ TV. Now are these singers desperate enough to create a song about being overweight?! Is this for friggin’ real?

Anyway, I paid attention to the song. Gawsh, nothing changed! I still heard, “I’m so overweight…!”

Geez. It was not until the music ended that I saw its title. It didn’t say overweight, thank goodness. It said Over It.

Can you blame me? The singer has a speech problem!

And I have a hearing problem! ^.^

I tried singing the darn chorus. La-la-la-la-la. I asked my sister to listen to me sing – to have her tell me if it sounds overweight when I sing the song. She told me no, it didn’t sound like overweight. I kept telling her yes, since I listened to my own freakin’ voice and it sounded like I was saying overweight instead of the over it.

Note: The singer, whatshername McPhee, is one of the most gracious goddesses of contradiction. If she’s so over it, she wouldn’t have bothered creating a song about being sooooo over it! To sum up, that friggin’ song expresses her not being over it.

7. You hear a singer say counting stars won’t be so hard to do.

Gosh, are you brain-dead?

Why in hell would you want to do such a ridiculous thing? Even when attacked by extreme tedium, I don’t do that! And swear, I won’t!

Note: Sorry, folks, I take everything literally.

8. They encourage gay people to date other gay people.

Now it’s Date my Mom. Still ETC (this channel’s cool, I assure you).

Anyway, I only switch to that channel to see the winner. It’s what’s important, anyway, and I don’t have time to even listen to or watch other people’s date.

Usually, the one who looks for a date is a guy. He dates the gals’ moms and makes his decision. No questions about that.

What happened was that last – I’m not sure, was it Thursday? - whatever, just last week, I switched to channel 52 (I subscribe to Home Cable, pals) and saw that the third mom to date had a son with her. It appeared that the guy was coaching his mom on what to say, what not to say and other things which would impress the one they’re supposed to impress. The mom said yeah, sure, no problem, and that she’d do her best.

Cool, I thought. A girl is looking for a date! That’s new.

Imagine my astonishment when their doorbell rang and I saw a guy outside their friggin’ house. A guy?!

“He’s here!” the son shrieked. And by shrieked, I do mean he shrieked.

Eew.

My sister (who was watching with me then) gaped at me. “Huh?”

I shrugged. The heck: It’s GAY! Wait till Mike hears about this! I continued watching, amused. It was a typical date: The guy and the mom had a blast and the darn guy asked her about her son. She answered dutifully and promoted her son’s… uh… beautiful characteristics. After a whole day of dating, he drove her home and that was it.

Then came the decision. It was held in some beach. I was still giving the darn show a chance, that maybe the guy was just looking for some guy friend (FRIEND!) and not some guy date.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to date your son.” This was what the guy told two of the moms – the mom of the losers (what am I supposed to call them? The un-winners?!).

Uh-huh. I was still calm, although I thought, It isn’t everyday you see something like this.

Finally, the guy told the winner mom that he wanted to date her son. The mom was glad, excited, and introduced her son. He came outta the limo (it was where he and the other sons were) and smiled happily. He walked up to the other guy and – well, I was expecting for them to high-five or do anything manly, like, shake hands or something – but that was a shot in hell.

They HUGGED!

And I fainted.

(No, sorry, I was just exaggerating it.)

I don’t have anything against gay people; I just found the darn show… amusing.

9. You see a dumb robber who can’t open the door.

I watch Tonight Show with Jay Leno every night. (Trust me, I sleep hours past my bedtime.)

They showed a video of a robber in England. Unfortunately for him, that banks of England are highly-protected, and once you yell “This is a robbery!”, the glass panel windows would sort of close and viola! You can’t get any money.

Now there was this robber wannabe who entered and yelled robbery. Shoot, everything was set in motion: The glass panels were closed, the alarm sounded, et al. The robber, realizing quickly his predicament, ran for the door.

Shoot! He couldn’t open it! They locked him in! He never knew about that! Damn it all!

He continued pushing the door for a while. Darn, open up!

Finally he gave up.

That was when an old lady came, and from outside, she pushed the door open.

Oh, so they didn’t lock him in.

It’s just that the door opens the other way!

What an idiot.

~

I told you, the TV pollutes us. What say you, huh? Huh?

~How About That

Chaotic Weeks: Ennui, Cavort, and Paybacks

As so the title says, my past few weeks have been quite uninteresting – and then frenzied. Yeah, I actually thought tedium would kill me. Then again, a very fugly incident happened which changed/ruined/devastated/destroyed/wrecked my beautiful yet insipid life.

I don’t quite remember when exactly it happened, but I can somehow recall events which transpired. I think it was early morning, say, few minutes past eight. My classmates and I were busily chatting about nonsense in the Computer Science Building. Anyway, a friend and classmate, Michael, was flaunting some debauched story about Tomoyo and Shaoran of Card Captor Sakura. I curiously read the print-outs he held. (It wasn’t only the fact that I was prying, but also because I was bored stiff.) Boy, was it… freakin’… SORDID! With shouts ringing in my ears and some seemingly spurious lecture on why I shouldn’t read the junk (since they reason it’d pollute me. Darlings, let me tell you that my mind is now so impure because of the besmirched thingies you’ve been letting me see!), I persistently read SOME parts of the friggin’ story. (I couldn’t believe how harshly ingenuous the statements were. I mean, couldn’t have the author/authoress made the… err, descriptions a bit subtle and abstruse?)

Then I was done. Unfortunately, I was bored rigid again.

From nowhere, Ronniel (I think it was him, I’m not sure) asked me a certain word’s definition (I think that’s what happened). I strained my brain to remember what it meant, but I guess I was amnesiac that time. I couldn’t recall shit. So I gazed around, searching for Michael to ask it to him. I was sure he’d know the word’s meaning.

Anyway, I couldn’t find him. I glanced at my left, and there was some guy standing there. His back was facing me, but I was certain it was Michael. Sneering in boredom, I pulled his un-tucked-in polo (is it what you call your uniforms, guys?) down like what I usually do to him and to my other guy classmates, parting my lips to ask him what Ronniel inquired.

Then my jaws fell when the lad turned to me.

Gaping at me was some guy I didn’t know! (A fourth year student, specifically.)

He was looking at me like I was some alien. I was staring at him the same way.

I froze there, staring at him, then grinned uncertainly. Uh-oh. “Uh… sorry.” Then I let go of his uniform (which I wrinkled pretty much, I suppose, since I held on to it for a while there, stunned) and hit my forehead using my hand. “I’m sorry! I just grabbed the wrong person! I didn’t mean it!”

Then I heard chuckling. I saw Ronniel laughing like a maniac as he clutched his stomach in AMUSEMENT! I pressed my lips tightly together and snapped. “Quit laughing! It’s all your fault, anyway!!”

But the guy wouldn’t stop. Damn.

It couldn’t get any worse. We already attracted the interest of some of my classmates, and the ever-probing ones began asking questions. I flashed Ronniel a look and clenched my teeth. “Shut the hell up!!”

~

And so that was it. Not so nice an experience.

I thought it was the end.

Unfortunately, not so.

~

Saturday, last week.

We had a practice for our Noli me Tangere play. We were tasked to arrive early in the morning, to fry ourselves using sun’s sizzling heat and radiation (it kills, but we just have to pretend we don’t know about that), and to friggin’ act like we’re skilled.

While I wasn’t included in a certain scene, I tried to concentrate on reading Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy. I was reading the first chapter, and I couldn’t comprehend a thing. The heat was killing me. My mind was occupied by other thoughts, and Michael was indefatigably trying to ask about the part I was reading. I answered like a drunk.

Then I heard my name being called and afterwards, “Fuck you!”

I gazed up. I was pretty sure it came up above (not the Heavens, silly!). It turned out to be Rozelle, who was sitting on a tree’s branch just above my head. “What?” I asked, scowling.

What I actually heard was “Fuck you.” It didn’t sound so nice, did it?

She repeated it. “Matthew!” She grinned.

I was glad it wasn’t “fuck you!”, but now I raised my brows in confusion. Who the heck…? I didn’t know any Matthew. Besides, I thought, why would they say something about someone I don’t know?

I think Ronniel sniggered again, and it ticked me off. He reminded me of the event I aimed to forget.

“The guy whose uniform you pulled,” he explicated, “is Matthew.”

I smirked. “Shove it.” Then I resumed reading.

~

No, don’t think that was the worst possible incidence ever.

Here’s what happened last night.

~

I was using my YM (Yahoo! Messenger when Michael suddenly began to blare me with the beauty of the movie he and Neri watched. He was ranting, but I didn’t mind. I even got persuaded to watch it. Haha!

Anyway, I was again pissed as hell when he brought up the event and Matthew again.

Here’s our conversation.

Nuni (Michael):…saka ung 'come back with your shield, or with your head on it'

How About That: nice... i'll put that sa status ko... wait lang...

Nuni: and oh...

Nuni: andun ung boyfriend mu...

Nuni: c kuya matthew

Nuni: haahahahahaha]

How About That: sorry about that... where were we??

Nuni: c kuya matthew

How About That: darn it!!!

How About That: who told you that, sasapakin ko

Nuni: hehehehehehe

How About That: si ronniel nagsabi, no?

Nuni: yef... nung pumunta kming feati

How About That: nakita mo ba kung ano talagang nangyari nun??

Nuni: ung anu, tatawagin mu dapat ako tapos nahila mu ung uniform ni kuya

How About That: yeah. that was... SOOO nakakahiya. damn. kasi naman, paalis-alis ka pa, eh!!

Nuni: aba ako pa sinisi

How About That: eh... kasi naman, eh..

How About That: kainis kaya yun si ronniel. he was laughing like a freakin' maniac, and i was all red, not knowing how to friggin' quit holding on to that guy's uniform!

Nuni: developing feelings?

How About That: nah!! I'm IMMUNE!!

Nuni: riiight...

Imagine how rife gossips are?!

~

Here’s what happened TODAY. (Part 1)

~

Another practice for the Noli me Tangere play. Anyway, I arrived early, only one hour 35 minutes and 17 seconds late. (Hey, that was quite punctual of me. I mean, I could have purposely been late for two hours, but I wasn’t, right?)

Everything turned out fine, and when 12 o’clock came, my friends and I hit the fast food outlets near the place, and when we came back, I was to see Kathryn greeting me with a mischievous smile. “Hey there. So! You already have a boyfriend!”

I looked at her as if she had grown two heads. “No!” I protested. “What do you mean?”

“Matthew!!” she yelled.

I rolled my eyes. “Who told you that?” I snapped. She pointed to Michael.

“I didn’t do anything!” he said hastily, grinning.

“How could you tell her that?” I almost screamed, but I decided to lower my voice. “When did she learn about it?”

“A while ago.”

“How did you manage to bring it up?” I asked, ticked off.

“Neri and I were just discussing what happened to the movie we watched, and I happened to mention to Neri something like, ‘Hey, we saw How About That’s boyfriend in the movie house, right?’” (Hahaha! Thought I’d divulge my name? Think again, freaks!)

I grimaced. “You shouldn’t have told her that. You know it isn’t true.”

“Matthew!” Kathryn yelled.

It pissed me off.

If I lose my temper, these guys wouldn’t like it one a bit, I thought.

~

(Part 2)

We were almost done with the practice. Ronniel, the so-called director (serves you right, mister! Prima’s the director! -sticks tongue out-) began mumbling about beginning the last rehearsal. I jumped down and went to my position – so-called, nonexistent backstage. Before I could even gear up myself, Ronniel began with it

“Don’t worry, just think about Matthew and you’d be able to do it!” he said cheerfully.

I almost puked my guts out.

I glared at him. “Darn it! I told you to shut the hell up!!” I ranted.

He only chortled, pleased with himself. Everyone else was grinning or smiling with him.

And, darn, but I couldn’t help but join their laughter, too! I mean, it was side-splitting in a twisted sort of way.

~

Anyway, the last two weeks hadn’t been that atrocious. I did manage to laugh a bit – at our so-called director, Ronniel.

Just yesterday, Friday, we had to show our Filipino teacher our play. She wanted to judge it and critique some parts which required enhancement.

Ronniel, who has the role of Elias, had this scene in which he’d help Crisostomo Ibarra kill or – I think subdue – a crocodile. He was supposed to jump into nonexistent water – and this he did quite vigorously.

I was seated at the back, jaded. I’ve seen the scene so many times that I began to consider it to be clichéd. That’s when I noticed some of my classmates giggling.

“What happened?” I asked. “What’s the fuss about?”

I think Danielle who sat beside me answered. “Ronniel ripped his pants.”

Huh?

Now, that is something riotous. I gazed at Ronniel. He was scrutinizing his pants.

That’s when I saw it.

I began to chortle. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” I could see a big, nasty vertical cleave on his pants, the butt part (excuse me, guys). I even laughed harder when I saw his boxers – GREEN!! (Hey, at least it wasn’t a g-string! Hahahahaha!)

He hurriedly exited and checked on his pants, muttering curses under his breath. Everyone was amused, and that included me. He was standing a few inches from me, and I was laughing like a sicko.

Prima, one of the concerned beings (they’re so gracious!), turned to look at me. “Geez. Look at you,” she mumbled, flashing me an amused look. “You’re laughing so hard.”

And was I!

I was banging my fist against the chair’s desk, practically crying due to my extreme mirth.

“Do you have thread and needle?” Ronniel asked Neri in trepidation. Anyway, I think Prima went to our TLE (stitching) teacher and asked for thread and needle.

Ronniel seemed to be relieved, but his predicament wasn’t over yet. He had another scene coming up, and he couldn’t risk not appearing in front. So he grabbed a towel and set it in a way that it would cover the nasty slit on his pants. He showed up, dignified to be Elias.

I giggled while I looked at the towel. It attracted more attention that the rip on his pants. I could bet that people around him were saying, “My God, what’s he hiding in there?!”

Oh, what a laugh I had!

Anyway, the scene and the whole play ended, and Prima arrived. She handed Ronniel the sewing materials, and he instantaneously he grabbed it. Our teacher called us to step up to her. While I was on my way to her, I met Ronniel – who was on his way to the room’s corner to stitch his pants – and flashed him a grin.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

~How About That

For humanity's sake, what the...?!

Laugh with me, people, I met three sleazeballs.

No kidding.

I had the chance to be online today and waste my precious time in front of my computer. Anyway, I was doing my assignments when I came across a page of my used-to-be notebook. I saw an email address there. I recalled it was mine, so I decided to check it out. I haven’t opened it in months/years, and I was quite doubtful whether it was still functional. Anyway, I typed the password I committed to memory and viola! Email – there it is! (Like Boots in the Dora the Explorer. Haha.)

Anyway, to kill time while waiting for some pages to load (I’m checking out some assignments), I dug my inbox and found 82 unread messages. I was, naturally, curious to find out who were bothering to email me. I opened my inbox.

It turned out that Friendster has been bugging me for the past year with their updates (I don’t need ‘em, thank you). I continued digging (okay, looking) for other messages. One caught my attention. It said:

Friendster message from Randy

I twitched my brows in confusion. Who the hell is Randy? I didn’t know anyone by that name. So, why would that dude – someone I don’t know - send me a note? Still curious (although it nauseated me when I saw those freakin’ biceps he flaunted and posted as his image), I tried logging in to read his message. Unfortunately, I forgot the password and so I had first to have my information sent to me.

I then opened my account. I even had to take another look at the profile my friend and I created, since I’ve forgotten all about it. (This friendster account I’m talking about is a big sham; my friend and I once tried to pull pranks on our friends, so we created this email and friendster. It’s got nothing true in it. I even said we’re from NY and know how to speak four languages [Admittedly, I know a bit of French, Italian and German, but I’m no expert]! Hahahaha!) Afterwards, I clicked the messages’ link and was faced with the following subjects of the messages: (they’re funny, but don’t laugh!)

Dude#1: hey babe

Dude#2: whats up babe

Dude#3: hi babe

I sat there, astounded out my wits. I was like, Shit, dude! What the hell is this?! Load of crap?!

Anyway, instead of logging out or something like that, I decided to click on the messages and have a view of what’s hell on earth. Dude#1 is named KILE and sent me the freakin’ stomach-churning note which said something like this gibberish:

hey babe whats going on?

just saw your profile online and wondered if youd like to chat.

check out sexywebcams4you.com/kyle for a few more pics of me getting freaky;-) friendster doesnt have a webcam option either, so if you wanna check me out when im online, u can do that from the site as well

ttyl,
kyle

I rolled my eyes in dis-fucking-belief. If I knew him, I would have said:

You freakin’ Kyle/Kile/whoeveryouare! How dare you freakin’ assume I’d bother to have a good look at your shameful face?! I’ve got so many friends with the most beautiful faces, so why in hell would I insult my eyesight, huh? Conceited jerk! Also, I don’t like chatting with people freakier than I, so go find yourself a stupid dudette who’d be vacuous enough to chat with someone like you! Don’t ever try to be online, else I’d send an Invincible Armada to kick your butt!

P.S. Arrange your friggin’ grammar. It makes you look stupider and drearier than you already are.

That was nice, releasing your emotions. Dude#2’s name is CORY, and sent me something as friggin’ CURIOUS as this junk:

hey, just managed to get my webcam up, curious if youd like to check me out? if youd want to see, some of my previous cam pics are uploaded at sexywebcams4you.com/cory

hope to c ya!

If we met, I’d tell him this:

Look, your curiosity isn’t being asked. I don’t give a damn if you’ve got this webcam of yours. I don’t even imagine myself considering the idea of viewing any more of your atrocious face, so shut up.

Hope to see me? More like ‘WISH’ to see me since that smug request of yours is next to hell freezing over. You haven’t even heard of something called ‘punctuation mark’, so why would I waste time on you? Geez, man, haven’t you graduated elementary yet?

Dude#3, whose name is Randy, sent me crap which said this:

heyya, saw your profile and just wanted to drop ya a msg. i just recently got some pictures of me online (besides here on friendster;)

u can see them at 1homepages.com/randy

msg me back when you get a chance

Randy

I’d say:

Sorry, no chance, Dude#3 (that’s my name for you, by the way). I don’t care if you viewed my profile; I didn’t ask, did I? Keep things like that to yourself, why don’t you? Also, you think the world gives a damn if you upload some friggin’ pictures of yours? Why? Are you supposed to be a celebrity?? I still don’t care if you are. I didn’t call for you, did I?

Nah, there’s no way I’d message you back. It’d be waste of time talking to someone so uninteresting, so why the heck would I bother? I’d rather collect garbage. At least, I won’t get to see you.

TO THESE THREE DUDES: You’ve got a very, very astounding similarity. You know what it is? THE ONLY WORD IN YOUR VOCABULARY IS THE WORD ‘BABE’. Tsk. Very, very pathetic, eh? You’ve got yourselves very limited vocabulary, I must say.

TO ANYONE WHO DOES THIS KIND OF CRAP: Go find yourselves another hobby. The world’s people are already much too depressed to hassle themselves just to view your fugly pictures. Quit saying the word ‘babe’, ‘cause it’s much too clichéd and cheap to be paid attention to.

This trick doesn’t work anymore, so get a life, LOWLIFES.

~How About That

Scientific Threat

No, I’m not talking about the fact that we’re now performing genetic engineering and altering genes like we’re sort of sickos. No, it’s not the fact that there’s this what you call designer babies and we ourselves can design the babies that we desire: Smart, beautiful, free of all genetically acquired diseases. I’m not talking about Biology at all, or its annex, Biotechnology. What I’m spraffing about here are my sister, classmates, and other acquaintances who get so associated with science and its other branches that whenever uttering a word, they get so S-C-I-E-N-T-I-F-I-C. There, scientific. Of course, I don’t plan showing up here, posting something as bland as this, without backing my statements up (I’m weird and all that). Here are some cases which would make you laugh and would make you fear the people whom I’m always interacting with (that’ll make you fear me, too! Hahahahaha!). They’re psychotic. And I mean it!

1. Just last Sunday, my whole family was going to church. My sister and I stepped out of the house first, a bit too excited to see our favorite cousin afterwards. I almost banged my head against a nearby wall. It was hot as summer! My sister, as equally ticked off as I was, yelled at me. “Darn it! It’s so hot! Global warming!” She halted for effect. “And we, poor creatures of earth, neither know about it nor are doing anything to act upon this situation! Ugh!”

My thoughts: Sure, there’s global warming, but for Pete’s sake, is that really it? I mean, we’re in the Philippines; our temperature is temperate! It’s almost always hot here! Like summer!

2. A couple of weeks ago, my friend and classmate, Danielle was yawning and stretching her legs and arms while our teacher lectured in front. It was biology class, and we were bored to death. In fact, we were on the verge of falling asleep. Ennui kills, you know? Anyway, I asked her where she’d be using biology when she grows up. I myself couldn’t think of something to answer to that question, so I inquired my classmate. She smirked and said, “If one of my used-to-be classmates ask me how I’m doing, I’d say, ‘Oh, fine. My DNA is still replicating, fortunately.’”

My thoughts: I don’t like Biology that much, but Danielle’s answer to my question surprised and amused me. Never thought of that before. And what’s with our DNA replicating? Anyway, that’s true. But wouldn’t Danielle’s former classmates regard her as peculiar if she answers such to a very simple question??

3. Yeah, yeah, we had our intramurals almost a month ago. We went up to the Computer Science Building to have a good view of the performance downstairs. We were gaping at the presentations, practically, our jaws were hanging open. Then a classmate, Kevin, suddenly got my attention and pointed to a room behind us. “What?” I asked disinterestedly. He was pointing at teacher sleeping in front of his open computer.

“Look at Sir.”

“So?”

“He’s asleep.”

“Am I supposed to care?”

“No. But see, he’s sleeping with the computer open. Doesn’t he know what a lot of gamma rays are going to go to his head? It’s dangerous! Before he manages to wake up, his brain would be toast!” Kevin insisted.

I shook my head in boredom. “Fine.”

My thoughts: So what, Kevin, if he wants gamma rays entering his head?? It’s not our problem anymore. Should we have awoken him? No, I don’t think so, because if we did, he would have yelled at us for disturbing his sleep. Or maybe he’d suddenly point at us yelling we erased his work, all the while not knowing that he clicked erase and the dumb file went to the recycle bin. But when I think about it, what would have happened if we woke him up? He probably wouldn’t even budge.

4. English class. I wasn’t supposed to believe that I’d survive English class without anyone blaring me with science. Yesterday, our teacher asked the class if they had broken families or something of that sort (with telling us first, of course, that she didn’t want to offend anyone). I think two of my classmates raised their hands. My teacher told them that she was just trying to test something, maybe relate it to our topic that day.

Michael, who was seated behind me, suddenly tapped my shoulder. “Uh-huh?” I asked, turning to him.

“They’d be put inside a lab!” he immediately whispered.

“Uh… huh?” I mumbled. “What do you mean?? Who are they??”

“I mean, our classmates! They’d be the test subjects, and those vectors would be inserted into them! Hahaha! Bacteriophage!”

“Okay…” I uttered, quite disbelieving. Michael, I knew, was weird. But not this weird. I simply smiled back at him and joined his twisted laughter.

So, maybe I’m weird, too.

My thoughts: Why would our English teacher even bother to put our classmates in a lab and study them? She was just merely asking about their family’s status! And what’s with the bacteriophage and those vectors? Threaten to modify their genes and make them look like a huge platypus which eats planktons if they don’t answer? Scary.

5. My cousin was playing Resident Evil when we arrived at their house. He hurriedly ran up to me and my sister, faking perspiration. “You won’t believe it!” he almost screamed.

“I believe everything,” I answered helpfully. (Well, not.)

“I just bought myself a new play station 2!” he said excitedly.

My mood changed. “Okay, so why don’t you show it to me? Later, let’s play.”

We entered his house and went inside his room. The place was practically unorganized but for the fact that the pillows were piled neatly. “What’s your game?” I asked.

“Resident Evil! It’s different this time. The makers term it ‘the modern zombies’. If your character walks up to them, they’d talk and scream at you first, then raise their ax and try to kill you. They don’t bite anymore. Much improvement for cannibals like them, I must say,” he explicated as he got the controller.

I observed how the game proceeded. Cool, although the stupid zombies don’t die easily. It’s hard to aim your gun at them, and there were times when my cousin’s character actually bled to death because he continued firing although the zombie was before him.

“Stop trying to kill your character,” I said when the screen flashed “Death”.

Suddenly my cousin turned to me. “Oh my God. I’m like… so nervous while playing!” He clutched his chest. “I’m so tense… I think my heart would stop pumping blood!!” Then he played dead.

I stood up and snatched the controller from him. “Gotcha. I play now.”

My thoughts: I know what heart attack is. I’ve studied that; my school, particularly elementary, taught us that. What I can’t understand is, what the heck with the pumping of blood? People tend to exaggerate at times, I know, and they always say something like “My, I think I’m gonna have a heart attack!”

My cousin begged to differ. Sheesh. “My heart would stop pumping blood!”

Shut it!

6. Just this Wednesday, we had no classes because of the mock test the second year students would be undergoing. The day after that, Thursday, we would have our own set of test, but not one from my class wanted to review. (Yeah, we’re slackers. So what?) Anyway, it was Wednesday night when I received a message from a close friend of mine, Carlyn, asking me if I had reviewed for the English and Filipino tests.

How About That: I didn’t review. I was freakin’ bored. Besides, no one reviews for those subjects!

Carlyn: Yeah, I agree. Did you do those artifacts for Filipino already?

How About That: I didn’t. I was so… sleepy, actually, that I practically spent the whole day lying down my bed. Or maybe not. I’m just exaggerating. I think artifacts 5 and 6 are easier than 7. 7 is another dumb album about our friggin’ self. Geez. My mom doesn’t want to give me pictures anymore. She says they don’t go back to her. I have no more pictures to put in my album. Do you realize how… how much predicament that is??

Carlyn: Me, too. When I look at the albums now, some have spaces between pictures, indicating I was the one who got that missing picture. I’m guilty.

How About That: I understand that.

Carlyn: What did you do today, anyway?

How About That: Sleep and surf the Net. I didn’t realize the time. I was there the whole three hours!

Carlyn: That’s too much radiation!! Personally, I was merely texting the whole day!

How About That: Oh, so now speaks the person who didn’t receive an itsy-bitsy amount of radiation today? Don’t you remember that cellphones, too, has this what we call radiation??

Carlyn: Oh, yeah, I forgot. Hahaha!

How About That: Geez.

My thoughts: It was during Physics time when our teacher shared with us a short experiment which he and a friend (or another teacher, whatever) did. They tried using cellphones with no antennae and after fifteen minutes of talking to a person, whoa, did the antennae bend! They were convinced that it was because of the radiation emitted by the cellphone. Our teacher told us to beware of this high-tech gadget, since although useful, it’s quite dangerous. In fact, it contributes to the possibility of a person having cancer or, well, by simply using the mobile, have his brain toasted without strain.

Scary.

7. To practice for our play, my classmates and I had to walk down the streets behind our school to go to a park nearby. I was with two of my classmates. We’ve just finished eating at a nearby… uhm… fastfood outlet.

Anyway, we were quietly talking amongst ourselves when suddenly I asked Alice why she didn’t want to come with Sari and her companions. Alice replied, “Because Annie was with them.”

“Is that it?” I asked.

Marie, who was also with us, asked why.

“I dunno. I just don’t like her,” Alice replied, with a little twitch of her brows.

Marie had to chuckle. “How come everyone hates Annie? Well, not hate, but they have this certain odium towards her. Many people dislike her.”

I shrugged. “Actually, when I realized we’re classmates this year, I asked myself what it was in her which I didn’t like. I couldn’t really think of that ‘something’; it must be her attitude.”

“Yeah, I sort of don’t like how she behaves. Thinks she’s the queen of the world or something like that.”

“However, I also know this ‘something’ although I can’t identify it,” Marie said.

I thought about the situation. “It must be… because our attitudes are the same. I mean, remember the Law of Attraction and Repulsion? Opposites attract; like charges repel.”

“Hahaha! That must be it!”

My thoughts: Personally, I have no grudge against Annie, although sometimes she pisses the hell out of me with her twitching brows, high-pitched voice, and often ugly temper. But I don’t hate her.

When I think about it, I honestly wonder why we disliked her so much. I was scared that the Law of Attraction and Repulsion might hold true for human beings as well. I mean, if you have the opposite demeanor, you get along, but if it’s the same, you’d kill each other.

It must be something like this, simply put, “If you hate a person, you hate something in him/her which is a part of yourself. What isn’t a part of ourselves doen’t disturb us.”

Don’t you think so?

~

Right now, I’m still telling my brain to remember everything SCIENTIFIC that my classmates, friends or sisters have said during the past weeks or months. Don’t worry, as soon as I recall some of them, I’ll add to this post.

~

Anyway, let me just point out that it’s quite riotous when we realize that those science thingies that we learn in school are being applied to our daily life. Hence, this humorous post about everything scientific.

I’m not at all taking for granted the fact that these science terminologies have taught to us so much. I would merely like to accentuate that even though we often think that our difficult subjects only give us headache everyday, there’s always a time when we get to use them.

Don’t you agree?

~

I was once asked, during our Trigonometry class, where I would be using everything I’ve learned from the subject. You’ve got to admit, you don’t have to compute for the six trigonometric functions before you get to pay your fare! Haha!

I was astounded, jaws hanging open, trying to think of an answer.

I was thunderstruck, to say the least.

I decided to get practical. I replied:

“No, it’s got no practical uses at all. What’s important is that when we grow up, we know things not everybody else does.”

Ain’t that accurate?

~How About That!

Changing Colors

I must have been drunk.

A friend of mine complained about my blog being bland, ugly, boring, bland, ugly, and boring. Fine. So it was insipid, featureless, unimaginative and… whatever. She reminded me that my background color was black (though it’s not a color) and when she viewed it, she saw that my font colors were white and gray. She said it was dull.

Immediately after I went home, I opened my blog and looked at it. Sure, it was black, and there were gray and white and… ugh! I hated it! I realized I should mess with blogger’s new feature and decorate my online diary.

Just last night, I was practically hitting my computer because I forgot my username and password. Ticked off, I clicked “I cannot access my account”. I was told there was an email sent to my address and there I would find the details of my blog.

I received some email, but heck! It contained no information. Nada. There was nothing! I typed furiously and remained in there, hanging on for almost thirty minutes. One of my classmates, Ecnart, was online, and was bugging me if I was done with my post. I told him I forgot my password; he replied that that was a big problem. I agreed and continued hacking my own account.

Finally, I realized I only have one gmail account. Stupid me, I didn’t try it at first, since I could remember that my username was howaboutthat. Alas! It was not. I was truly frustrated with myself, but delighted when I finally opened my account. That was not a nice night, but it ended my online-status good.

So, there I was, clicking “Fonts and Colors” (settings tab). I was delighted to change my blog into something more colorful.

Background: Black

It was the first one.

Next were the fonts. I chose yellow.

Not bad.

Next were the headers.

I chose peach.

Eew! That’s repulsive! my mind yelled. But I selected it anyway.

Next was the tagline.

Pink.

My God, are you nuts?? Peenk?!

Next were the links.

Uhmm… blue?

Fine.

Light blue?

You’re disgusting!

But I chose it anyway.

Visited links.

Violet?

No, it should be lavender.

OMG! You’re sleepy; stop it right now!! Continue designing tomorrow!!

And so I slept. With my blog horribly colored. I actually couldn’t sleep. It let me stay awake for hours.

Now it’s Sunday. I hastily walked up to my computer when I arrived home and opened it. Then I designed my blog.

Just like how you see it right now.

I must be sick. SICK!

~How About That

Shh! It's... a secret?

“Secret is a thought which a person keeps to himself/herself.”

This testimonial is by and large answered when inquired what secret means. If you ask me, however, I wouldn’t riposte with such a worn-out respond. I have an unusual denotation for the word – which is so disparate from the statement above. It’s this:

"Secret is something someone tells everybody not to tell anyone."

This definition is rather amusing, but hell, it says perfectly what every person appears to be rebuffing.

Last Monday (or was it Wednesday?), while my classmates and I were waiting for our teacher in Technical Writing class (I think that was the subject during that time), I overheard my friends talking about something soooo confidential. I was leaning against the wall when Colleen, a friend, suddenly went over to Janine, another classmate. They began talking in hushed voices, flashing their surrounding suspicious glances as they chitchatted. At first, I wasn’t at all bothered. In fact, I even disinterestedly tapped my fingers against the wall. I was jaded, to say the least. I only became curious when I inadvertently met Janine’s gaze. To my surprise, she moved closer to Colleen, completely whispering now while the conversation went on.

Something smelt fishy.

The ever-meddling persona in me began to pry on whatever it was the two were speaking of. I asked the two what they were talking about, but to my great frustration, they dismissed my query and said that I didn’t know about it, and that I was supposed to feel guaranteed that they weren’t talking about me.

Oh, well, I thought. I can always ask other people.

Luckily for me, Jenny and Toni (they’re also my friends) were with me during dismissal. I asked them if they knew what Ann and Joyce were discussing. They didn’t want to enlighten me at first, and it took quite a lot of my energy persuading them to share with me their knowledge of the matter. They kept insisting it was a secret, but for Pete’s sake, it was palpable that everyone in class BUT I had information what that stupid secret was! (I’m one of those who are last to know, simply because I don’t gossip!) They reasoned that they vowed to keep quiet, not to share it with anyone but themselves, and that it was a SECRET. I argued that if it were really a secret, then they wouldn’t have known about it. And based on my scrutiny, I could see that they knew a lot about this secret. Whatever it was.

In the end, the two gave in and told me everything.

Apparently, Colleen and Janine were talking about Lizzy, a classmate. Lizzy was angry with Janine because she thought the latter spread her secret. Lizzy was ticked off, pissed as hell, when she learned that her secret was squealed by Joyce to almost everyone in class. Janine was talking to Colleen in a hushed voice because she was asking for Ann’s advice regarding the matter. With Lizzy peeved, it wouldn’t be so easy dealing with her.

“So,” I muttered, twitching my brows, “what is the secret?” I was getting impatient.

There was a pause, then Jenny told me in a whisper, “Lizzy isn’t a virgin anymore.”

Oh.

I considered falling from my seat, letting my jaws fall open, or…

Laughing like a maniac.

I chose the third alternative.

I chortled oh-so-incessantly that Toni and Jenny had to hit me (not so hard, though) to halt my expression of amusement. They almost covered my lips since almost everyone around was gazing at me like I was some sort of sicko (which, I don’t deny). They didn’t have to do that, however, because I managed to calm myself down within seconds. I coughed and plastered a serious look on my face. “I see.” My curiosity was more piqued than ever. “Continue.”

It appeared that Lizzy told Janine that the former was deflowered (let me use this less crude term. Wait, does anybody else still use this word?!), and Janine told everybody about it. Lizzy was informed about this, and she became completely livid. According to Jenny, rumor had it the Lizzy described her deflower-ation (I can’t find another term) to everyone in her Research (one of our subjects) group (each has five to six members) in a detailed manner. She told them that she trusted them or something like that, and that they shouldn’t share the secret with anyone.

At that point, I had to laugh again. I countered that if it were a secret, Lizzy shouldn’t have told anyone – not even her closest friends – about it. And to think the members of her research groups were mere acquaintances of hers!

Anyway, Lizzy did it with a neighbor (they say). I asked how it happened. What I got was, Lizzy was invited to do it and lo and behold! she said yes. They (she and whoeverthatguywas) did it in her room and almost got caught by her younger sister. They managed to solve that hitch, and before Lizzy’s sister was able to enter her room (I think it wasn’t locked. Quite stupid of them, no?) the guy entered a closet, dressed up there, and when Lizzy’s sister took a look at the closet, she was greeted with some kind of ‘boo!’ (it’s so lame, if you ask me). It would have, of course, appeared as planned, and a trick which would let the two escaped being condemned. It worked

(unfortunately) and they got away clean.

I asked if they tried to do it again. They did, and this time, it was –cough- successful.

So that’s why Lizzy is so pissed. Imagine the whole class learning about such decadent hush-hush.

The next morning, I told Colleen I already knew about that sizzling-hot topic. I gained more information through her, still, because… I forgot. (I’m getting forgetful these days. Think I’m getting older already?! Please, freakin’ no!)

Colleen began with a repartee that Lizzy could be doing it again right then (she was absent that day) because according to Janine, Lizzy told her that she got addicted to it; like she couldn’t survive without having do it with that guy again. Last December 2006, Lizzy was supposed to do it yet again, but we had had a practice for the Carol Fest (it’s held yearly, and the competition is among sections of each year level) so she had no time.

“Why did they do it?” I asked.

“Just because.”

I inquired, “What if she gets pregnant?”

Colleen only came up with a nod, as she, too, was aware of such a scenario, but wasn’t really able to think of sufficient respond which could be enough to solve a 99.9%-possible dilemma

“And do you know this guy she’s doing it with?” Collen continued.

I shook my head no.

Colleen told me who he was.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, I said to myself after I heard Colleen’s statement.

I can very well understand if Lizzy became angry with Janine. It was her right, since she trusted the latter to keep her secrets to herself, but was let down. However, I can sympathize with Janine since she didn’t ask Lizzy to hand over that secret to her and let it bug her everytime she sees Lizzy. Besides, she denies having said a word about it; there were other four people who were with them when Lizzy discussed everything, right? There are endless possibilities. Furthermore, if Lizzy didn’t want anything (specially a secret) revealed to anyone, then she should have shut the hell up. It would have done her good.

People regard sex as something not even worth thinking about these days. I mean, there are people who do it almost everyday, right? There are husbands and wives who do it in their matrimonial bed.

Thing is, it’s different.

In the eyes of God and the church, people still not married are not supposed to engaged in something as not. Plus, society degrades you if they learn that you’re doing it with someone not your spouse. In the Philippines, people regard virginity as something as highly valued as their most prized national hero, Jose Rizal. As days pass by, however, Filipino women tend not to think about it the same way the old men did, but disregarded thoughts and lectures about sex, and proceeded to engage themselves in something as demeaning as this one.

As for sexual intercourse which she was engaged in, it was her choice. She deals with her problems the way she wants. I must honestly say, though, that I’m laughing at her for doing such a stupid thing at a very young age. What is she doing, wrecking herself for the sake of pleasure? Very unintelligent pick. It’s so repulsive. I know virginity (or whatever they call it) isn’t valued so much the way it used to be, but if a girl/lass/woman is at least sensible enough to think about capitulation’s dire consequences, then she’d rather not involve herself in a confusing mess.

Of course the main point of this post is not for me to preach (I know you all hate smartasses, so I don't wish to be one through this blog) to point out the fact that people contradict themselves so much that they don’t even notice it at times. Don’t you realize that Lizzy didn’t want her secret revealed, but she told it to a “friend” herself? Where is the logic in that, huh? If you don’t want something revealed, keep quiet. It’s not everyone’s business to find out that you did this with this, right?

As for the guy Lizzy is having sex (oh, will you look at that? I actually used hat three-letter word!) with?

It’s her cousin.

That was where I had to pause. I couldn’t believe my ears. Deflower-ation was plausible, but at age 14… doing it with her friggin’cousin? To think she appeared to carry it out willingly! Lizzy was engaged in incest, for crying out loud!

I’m telling you, Lizzy just gave herself the millionth reason to commit suicide.

~How About That

Prelude: Your Invitation to Hell

And so one day it struck me that dire consequences shall befall upon me if first I do not satisfy the possibly gruesome rage of the people who would be mentioned in this blog. I’ll therefore initially invite everyone to Hell. My realm, How About That!

Everything which will be posted here will be based on my experience, and mostly about my school and freakazoid classmates. I am going to truthfully write the events or whatever crap which happen (unfortunately) to me, whether it’s good or bad, nice or naughty, significant or crappy. I dunno; I merely write what I know (haha, Hemingway!).

In here, you’d realize that I write my random sentiments in life and tell the world (blare it, in fact) the hilariousness of our daily living. Some of us do not know it; some don’t even acknowledge it, but the truth is, life is quite funny.

You’d notice that from time to time, I get exhilarated, cynical, crappy, sappy, sentimental (not often), and even energetic. Sometimes, I even talk about gibberish which you wouldn’t care about. Then again, I don’t care about that either. So, it’s just, “To each his own”.

I am not going to promise that everything here would be nice. That’s why its link is “FREAKISH DISCLOSURE”, meaning everything here would be friggin’ FREAKISH – you’d have to be a major weirdo to understand it. Also, they’re revelations – DISCLOSURE – those things I haven’t heard of since birth, or those merely told to me by my classmates. Or maybe they are things we simply talk about, or those I find ASTOUNDING. (I’m easily astonished, you see.)

In here, I’d have to tell you everything about my classmates and my life (haha. You’re so lucky to get to know me). However, I shall swear not to divulge any personal information about my classmates concerned if the post or situation asks for discretion. Heck, who would want to have their names posted in every blog he/she sees? That wouldn’t be nice. I’ll have the names altered (well, not completely, as I've already mentioned). It’s not one of my twisted ideas of hide-and-seek or blind items, but rather, my main aim is to say my piece without 1) hurting anyone (but I tend to be harsh, so get ready); 2) ruining any person; 3) earning anybody’s wrath; 4) ruining my life (hey, things like these are made to be big issues. Sometimes, there are people who make such huge fuss about diminutive, petty details); and of course, (5) for me to freely articulate what I want to say. It’s a FREE COUNTRY, right?

Like what my tagline says, some people just shock you by doing the most hilarious, most pathetic, most weird, most crappy thingies you’ve never even heard of, you’ve never even thought of, or you’ve never had the GUTS to imagine. But hey, that’s what you spell as L-I-F-E, so what can we do?

Well, I for one can rant about it.

~

“‘Know what? Just the other day, I learned that *toot* and *toot* were…”

“Oh, damn! Come on, that ain’t true! *Toot* wouldn’t dare!”

“That’s where you’re dead wrong! *Toot* really…”

Hmm.

Now how about that?

~How About That