tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60663584114036690102024-02-08T11:18:43.015-08:00eye_spy... i have you at the corner of my eye ...eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-4559310477343736232010-07-12T17:28:00.000-07:002010-07-12T17:59:46.070-07:00so long, farewell, goodbye<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">While I was celebrating my birthday and while basking over everyone's attention and greetings, someone close to my heart has been suffering for his loss. Well, I'm not really sure if he is a he or if he is a she. You see, there was a tragic accident and I was not able to get there on time. Heck, had it been that I was able to see the entire mishap I would probably have felt helpless anyway and I would likely just sit there and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">watch the life taken out of him. Worst would be for me to run in circles and all the more not do anything to help him out.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I failed him and it's just sad looking at him all by himself now, all alone, no one to talk to and feeling the cruelties of the world. He doesn't talk to me either. So I just sit there and look at him wander about, wondering what goes on in his mind. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It must have been pretty hard to keep on doing those mundane things you normally do without the other one around. It's just painful that sometimes I'd rath</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">er not watch and just leave him all by himself.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">May you rest in peace and to you who has been left behind, may you have the courage to face the world and continue to live on for another 10 years?!?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/TDu3nLq0qKI/AAAAAAAAAUY/7HEDccDeRT8/s320/SDC10609.JPG" style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493186054283634850" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">His partner in crime got squished by that "boulder" and splat him to kingdom come.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Can someone tell me how to tell the sex of a turtle? Oh wait, scratch that.. I'll just go google it. That's the least I can do in honor of the critter.</span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-55503430567122629072010-07-11T17:58:00.000-07:002010-07-11T18:03:25.438-07:00another year<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"></span><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">"And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> ~Abraham Lincoln</span></div></blockquote><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Now who says getting older is such a scary thought? A birthday after all is just another first day of our 365-day journey around the sun. So yeah, I just turned 26! Thank you dear Father!</span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-32471576127096094172010-07-10T19:49:00.000-07:002010-07-10T20:45:33.189-07:00Energizer Run<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="justify">There are several interesting things about joining Fun Runs. Other than the fact that the city's eye candies are gathered in one location, you also get to see how their girlfriends parade them as if they are their trophies. Well I'd definitely do the same if and only if I have someone I can put a leash on and run like they do in dog shows. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">But no, I usually go with my running mates (read: <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">office mates</span>) and just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ogle</span> over those interesting "things" while they breeze past you all sweaty but still smelling so sexy. So we joined the Energizer Run last Saturday which was co-sponsored by the network <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">GMA</span> 7. It was fun although their program was pretty boring. So we just ran and skipped their "fun(?)activity" as their host said. </div><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify">While waiting for the cue for everyone to gather in the Starting Line, there was a band (which I forgot the name) playing in the background and my lovely <a href="http://8hourshift.blogspot.com/2009/09/of-sex-and-chocolates-and-kinky-friends.html/"> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">office mate</span> </a> got consumed by the beat and started dancing like crazy. Unknowingly there was a camera at her back and everything was captured on video. (I just hope that the video would end up in YouTube and she will be the next Lady Gaga (!) on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">internet</span>. I would love to see the look of her husband when he sees that video. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">I'm</span> sure he would start to think of reasons why he married her.)</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><p></div><div align="justify">There were local celebrities and not quite done with her little stint, she started acting like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Sisa</span> and kept on screaming and waving at the guy on top of the van who was reporting about the run. I decided to take a little step backwards and pretended I was not with her. I then asked her who the guy was and she doesn't even know. Great!</div><div align="justify"><p></div><div align="justify">Then the fireworks went off which marked the start of the race, she was just beside me when it started but I decided to leave her behind and sped off. 20 minutes later, I reached the finish line. Another 20 minutes passed and I was still waiting for her. Finally after another 10 minutes, she arrived looking pale and sticking her tongue out as if she was about to keel over. At last, she was all silent and behave! Fun Runs are more interesting when you bring your silly friends with you.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div></span>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-27410299598373233462010-07-07T18:50:00.000-07:002010-07-07T19:25:06.864-07:00money, sex and power<div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"Money is power. Sex is power. Having sex while getting paid is double the power."</span></blockquote></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Gawd! Now, that's one of the reason why I really dream of becoming a courtesan. </span><br /></span>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-84082190834838814052010-07-05T19:26:00.000-07:002010-07-05T19:45:21.558-07:00the mouth speaks what the heart is full of<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">I like talking with strangers. Aside from playing DOTA which I normally do during weekends, engaging in talks with random people is like my form of diversion and stress reliever. Not really on the streets as I am too shy to do that but online. Besides, I think people would give me that queer gaze if I approach them and ask how their day is. But that would be a nice thought, I mean approaching people and just chitchat with them as if you've known them for ages and not worrying about them giving you this crazy look as if you've just grown a huge mole on your nose.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">So yeah, just this morning since we don't have work last night because of this 4th of July in the U S of A (Thanks to our American friends who hired me and helped me bring food to the table) I spent some time online just reading what people are writing on the main chatroom. Then this random guy buzzed me. And since I'm a sucker for people who are so good with the Tagalog language, I indulged and listened to him rant about his love life not working out. Nothing out of the ordinary really but what made me think and pushed me to write today is more of what I said to the guy.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "></span></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">"Well that's how things are lately. People are kind scared of love. Not really of love but from the hurt that goes with love. And as the old adage goes: prevention is better than cure. So people tend to walk on pavements instead of taking chances and tread the streets." </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">And then he said, "Wow! Did you just speak for yourself?"</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; font-size: medium; ">Shit! I feel like banging my head on the wall a thousand times. I am such a drama junkie. </span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-65318197963044871072010-06-26T07:22:00.001-07:002010-06-26T07:33:15.178-07:00facebook and the things people post.<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I hardly open my facebook account and when I do I always get something interesting. Take for instance what I came across the moment I opened the page:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/TCYN8sDDYKI/AAAAAAAAAUM/PF8Plg4TpG0/s320/facebook.bmp" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 282px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487088532264804514" /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">In all fairness I like the tune of Justin's songs it's just that I find him funny. To me, he looks like a lesbian who just embraced her sexuality. No offense to his fans this is just me stereotyping. Actually we have a neighbor who looks just like him only she's a lesbian and the moment Justin came out, she also changed her name to Justin. So go shoot her!</span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-6690641038879720952010-06-15T18:15:00.000-07:002010-06-15T18:46:55.866-07:00give me back my toothbrush!<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Filipinos are known all over the world as being courteous and diplomatic and I guess this picture is one proof of that. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">Our client was laughing out loud when she saw this note posted on one of the lockers near the training room and she said, "at least she put in 'kindly'. You guys are so polite!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; "><br /></span></div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/TBgsbKxsYaI/AAAAAAAAAUE/txO-0sTHbTw/s400/18032010044.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483181391584453026" />eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-25988930031883884962010-06-09T05:38:00.000-07:002010-06-09T12:11:43.413-07:00the things you do when your inebriated with Jose<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I can still remember the time I arrived here and being the typical kid who grew up in the province, I had the feeling that the city is too big of a place for me that it would swallow me alive the moment I start to wander off the streets. Then it dawned on me that the big city is freedom. Freedom from the watchful eyes of anyone attached to me, from home and of course from the infamous curfew.<br /><br />Way back in the city where I grew up, I was the goody goody boy who from school will go directly home. Never tried anything illegal nor hasn't been into booze or even smoking. So when the big city opened its doors to this poor peasant boy from the province, I started going out and indulged in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">bingeing</span>. There were even times when I went home not knowing who took me home and how I got home because I was completely inebriated by Jose.<br /><br />Those were the days when I was pretty reckless and all that was in my mind is having fun. I guess the consequence of your actions would really bite you in the ass sooner or later and would really catch up on you at the most unexpected time.<br /><br />There was a time when I completely lost my mind because of too much drink that I started kissing randomly whoever it is that I get to touch my lips with. Well, there was this girl, oh no, scratch that. He was a guy dressed as a girl who joined our table because he knows one of the people in our table. I don't really know what happened but they told me the following day that I was snogging the gremlin out of a dare. Thank heavens I was still alive then!<br /><br />The worst hasn't come still because the following day, he started <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">texting</span> me asking me out for a date. That was the time I died. I don't have the slightest intention of going out with someone who is too effeminate. He was very persistent and I don't see any reason why he should be but I ended up being on the defense. I think he finally got the message cause then he left me alone.<br /><br />Just this afternoon I went to Ayala with my younger brother to buy something. The place was peopled with a lot of eye candies and I was secretly eyeing some while my brother was busy looking at some of the items inside a shop. I haven't gotten any sleep and I look like shit but for crying out loud of all people that I would likely come across that instant, it's the gremlin from hell!<br /><br />I pretended I didn't see him but I guess I am pretty hard to miss because of my bald head. So he approached me and I immediately told him I am with my brother hoping that he would get a clue and walk away but no such luck. He stopped to chit-chat and even asked that it's been awhile since we last hang out?!? I died the second time around. We never hang out!<br /><br />I gave him a quizzical look as if he just grew a second head then without a word, I walked away. Gawd! That was embarrassing! I wouldn't even consider letting my brother know that I engage in trysts with the same sex worst with a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">tranny</span>!<br /><br />And that is the reason why I ended up ranting here again because I am just annoyed until now with how stupid I could get sometimes but you see, I've learned my lesson and I am now sober for close to three months.<br /></span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-41148462302204141872010-06-06T11:08:00.000-07:002010-06-06T11:55:33.595-07:00random musings<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">After getting rowdy and sweaty, and after energies have been spent I stood up and immediately headed to the restroom to tidy myself. I would have loved to go drama junkie again, turn on the shower and bawl myself out all the while telling myself "and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">dumi</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">dumi</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ko</span>." Then I realized I'm way past that phase that it gets easier and easier to just get laid and be a one time whore. So no, I took a pass at it. This time too, I'm no one time whore as we have been meeting up for the nth time.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">As I faced the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">showerhead</span> and allowed the water to beat on my face, I realized that it's been a while since I last experienced something that transcends the climax I experience in the four corners of the bed. It's always been like that for quite some time now: rubber please, now lube, and then let's get ready to rumble. After pounding the poor flounder and everything has been spent, heartbeats return to normal and then the void returns. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After composing myself and parading across the room naked to grab my clothes, he looked at me and said: "hey, why don't you just spend the night here for a change?" Right! Then what? Be intimate and blur the line between being friends with benefits and something else? No way! "I can't I need to get going," I answered. I cannot and I will not allow you to go beyond what we are having right now. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">On a different note, I just knew that a friend just got engaged. Well they're straight but hearing someone about to tie the knot is something envying. When will my time come and how long do I have to keep on playing the defense? I've been telling myself that it's time for me to make myself happy but I cannot just bring myself to fall for someone. For a lot of reasons so shoot me!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">With a sigh, he opened the door and let me out. It's always been like that, I come and I go. "Thanks for coming," he said. I just smiled. I think a Thank You would be enough for now. </span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-37606159989543993142010-05-23T12:18:00.000-07:002010-05-23T12:51:06.047-07:00another boring night<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It's been a while since I last visited this page and I hope I didn't miss a lot. I would have wanted to rant about how pissed I am with work. The usual bitchin around about things but I realized I don't really have the right to as I am not doing anything about it. It would have been cool if I would grow the nerves to just walk out of my job and tell them to kiss my ass. But no, the chicken shit in me is telling my puny brains to just let it pass. So yeah, I will spare my page with all my rantings.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, I just got a call from a friend last night and he invited me over for videoke. And yes, this is about another broken hearted soul. Why is it that most of my friends go out singing their hearts out when they are shattered to pieces? Well it's really hard to deal with losing someone but the thing is, the losing part doesn't really exist so to speak. Mainly because the guy is not really into him and they are not really an item. Like no "them" but just he and he. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nobody wants to be side-stepped with things they are good at and I am the major drama junkie not my friend. So when he started asking nobody in particular if he is crazy feeling like that for the guy, I answered him: "I know how it feels but there's no you and him. So just stop it!" And yes, he called the wrong set of people so he might as well punish his liver with more alcohol. Seriously, why is the love bug everywhere but near me? Or maybe it takes more than a bug to topple down a drama junkie.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now I kind of lost track with the things I would like to talk about. So yeah, I guess this is my way of checking out and saying hi to the blogosphere. Hello netizens!</span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-67248633214299976112010-03-21T05:32:00.000-07:002010-03-21T06:03:07.439-07:00blah blah blah im ranting<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms'; ">It never occurred to me how exhausting it is to help others who hit rock bottom. I am proud to say that at one point I was able to help someone who is completely lagging behind and see that someone soar and overrun others. What is happening right now is the complete opposite of before and the frustrating part is that person threw in the towel and decided to just stay at the bottom no matter how hard it is that you tug at his hands to bring him up to his feet. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">It's just so taxing that every time I think of what had happened makes me feel that I didn't exert that much effort. That something was missing and that there's still something that I could have done as an intervention. I could only do so much but at the end of the day, it's still up to that person to rack himself with maturity to rise to the occasion and pick himself from where he stumbled. The saddest part though is being looked in the eye and told "You made a difference and you played your part well."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This job is eating the life out of me and this Messianic complex always kicks in at the most inconvenient time. What I have gotten into is something I never anticipated. Then again, that's where the interesting part kicks in. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">I guess I should go back to watching UP for the umpteenth time to complete my weekend. Adventure is out there! The wilderness must be explored! </span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-31916642215116563582010-02-20T09:10:00.000-08:002010-02-20T09:58:10.196-08:00on a night when everyone was wearing yellow<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I always deny it when people point their fingers at me and calls me evil. I instantaneously don on this innocent look, questioningly stare at the people around me and pretend I don't know what they are talking about. But tonight, tonight is the night I realized how mischievous I can get.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">While having dinner with friends earlier, we talked about the security guard in the office who just recently passed away. The conversation got a good spin and before we knew it we were already talking about things that happened in the building. Not just ordinary things but instances and encounters with the supernatural beings.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I got goosebumps all over while my friend was talking about my previous team manager and how she encountered something spooky while working all by herself in the office. The security guard kept on dropping by to ask her if she is doing just fine. She of course answered that she is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ok</span>. The guard left the room and came back the second time after to see if all is well with her. That somehow made her think of something but she immediately brushed off the thought. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">When she stepped out of the room to call it a day, she casually asked the guard why he kept on checking on her. She was then informed that there was a kid inside the room and it was playing behind her back. We all know 'bout the stories of building and its "inhabitants" and how some of them gets too frisky AND we all know that kids are not allowed at work.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Anyway, I was with </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=6066358411403669010"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "></span></span></span></a><a href="http://clippedwings13.blogspot.com/?zx=e3e933cd0dbc5da5"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Clipped</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">on a Saturday night in the office to work on our monthly review. Then came another co-worker who's there to work on the same assignment as well. I decided to just go home since I am not in the mood to work and I'm being unproductive again. Before we parted ways, I told my other friend about the story of my team manager and I was holding back my laughter as her eyes grew wide in horror.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I don't know what has gotten into me but I didn't think that we will be leaving her all alone in the room. I just opened my mouth and told her the story while my insides hurt because I'm helping myself not to guffaw. She looked really scared and the moment we stepped out of the room she came out running calling for the guards. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I can get really silly sometimes that even now, while typing this I am still snickering. The way her eyes widened in horror and how she ran from the room screaming is still playing on my mind. Incidentally, the three of us were all wearing yellow. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Hmmm</span>.. I think the color yellow really triggered it. I'm no evil really. That was just me getting all sunny and happy because of the color of our shirts. I'm no meaniee.</span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-30521836317781249042009-12-26T22:05:00.000-08:002010-01-01T08:13:27.033-08:00my own version of farmtown<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There's a joke here in Cebu that goes: "If you want to feel like a celebrity, all you need to do is just go to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Larsian</span>." I say, if I want to feel like a Star all I need to do is go home and I'll be treated like a royalty. I was home a week ago and I am loving every minute of it mainly because all eyes were on me and being the attention whore that I am, it felt like I was in heaven.<br /><br />Other than the fact that I don't have to slave myself with work, all I did there is visit friends, spend time with family, eat, sleep, eat again and sleep some more. We then went to the province and spent Christmas there which until now is still replaying in mind since I refuse to let go of the entire memory. Those days serve as my oasis of strength as I am now on the verge of throwing in the towel with the work load that I got back to after a short vacation.</span></div><br /><div><div><div><br /> </div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421799598665047298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4aAlHJHQI/AAAAAAAAARc/nQkKI_phh7w/s320/green.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I guess that's just how things work. Everything comes with a price and the 6 day vacation that I had would mean to say I would be swamped with work I'm almost drowning. Then again, I have pictures from the boondocks to keep me company. They're not really of good quality yet again, looking at those pictures chases the gloom away. I was a camera ninja then using my phone since my brother won't let go of the camera. </span></div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421800681533468706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4a_nHF8CI/AAAAAAAAAR0/mHFiT8eQFTY/s320/poker.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421800689324151586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4bAEIiUyI/AAAAAAAAAR8/wpAXZMD5xi4/s320/poker2.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Oh yeah! We played poker until 4am in the morning.. yes, I was winning but it didn't last for long. Before I knew it, the tides have turned and I ended up losing P200 instead. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I just love the scenery there. Most of the locals were very friendly, except for this old man</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421804215210439282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4eNTFVcnI/AAAAAAAAASc/onRGdx7y0dg/s320/manong.JPG" border="0" />who glared at me the moment I snapped a picture of him while peeling coconuts. Wherever you avert your eyes to it's green. There are animals everywhere and it felt like living my own version of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Farmtown</span>. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421799612027938562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4aBW5GpwI/AAAAAAAAARs/cpqZSc0-4aY/s320/pig.JPG" border="0" />There were pigs.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421799589799512402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4aAEFbyVI/AAAAAAAAARU/8SFwYYdRZFY/s320/ducks.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and ducks..</span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421800703587571762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4bA5RM2DI/AAAAAAAAASM/DO9H2z0lfaA/s320/trees2.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421800694670203954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4bAYDInDI/AAAAAAAAASE/7KmwqDtW-dY/s320/trees.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and lots of coconut trees..</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421799601835270418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4aAw6-4RI/AAAAAAAAARk/-_sIcRcs2f0/s320/horse.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and I saw a horse,</span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421799588062673794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4Z_9nVu4I/AAAAAAAAARM/Cx-6Kd-cpDE/s320/chicken.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">and chickens. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I don't feel like looking at this picture though because the mother hen on the picture was given to me by my granny and days ago, my brother sent me an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">SMS</span> saying mom just cooked the poor thing. Blah! It was supposed to be a joke by my granny. She wants me to bring the fowl to Cebu and make a pet out of it. </span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We actually had pictures while we were taking a swim in the pool at 2 in the morning but I wouldn't be posting pictures though since I looked like a whale stranded on a 7 feet deep pool. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Embarrassing</span>!<br /><br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421800708013079026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Sz4bBJwUufI/AAAAAAAAASU/_udjypq5g7A/s320/whatever.JPG" border="0" /></span><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Before we went home, I rode on this cart while being drawn by a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">carabao</span>. It's been 10 long years since my last visit.<br /><br /><br /></div></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I had a great time really.. and I hope you guys enjoyed the Holidays as much as I did! Hello 2010!</span></div></div></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-89275003982769618242009-11-28T18:23:00.000-08:002009-11-28T20:13:12.900-08:00my most unproductive night.<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I woke up and I was running late for work. I hailed a cab and asked if he can literally fly the vehicle to work. He stepped on it and we are zooming past cars and pedestrians so I can still get there not later than two hours on the supposed log-in time. The driver sure did empathize with me and he was able to get me to my destination in no time. Then, as I was about to step out of the cab someone called me saying he needs a little of bit rescuing. He got stood up by his date. Great!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Since the <a href="http://clippedwings13.blogspot.com">devil</a> was so good at teasing me with his time plan, I caved in and before I know it the driver was looking at me as if I were a loony who jumps inside his car and asked if he can apparate me from where I hailed him to my work and now to the cinemas. Need I elaborate how evil my friends are and how saintly I am?<br /><br />So I waited for him for a couple of minutes and then we proceeded to buy some tickets and off he goes with his litany about dates who always bail out the last minute. Sigh! I've been dreading New Moon because we'll, I just don't like how Edward looks (no offense to the fans of the said saga. Peace tayo!) and how cheesy the lines are. Mind you, I was the one who introduced the story to some friends and I'm now one of those who are saying nay to the entire brouhaha.<br /><br />In the middle of the movie, I asked my friend if he would like to be friends with both werewolves and vampires. Probably because he was still not over the fact that he got stood up he asked, "and then both of them will be in love with me?" I then reminded him that he is not Bella and never will be even if he gets a boob job.<br /><br />Though he got stood up, he has a reason to be thankful. Why? Because incidentally, his brother was in the same movie house with his girlfriend and it would be a riot if his brother will see him with a guy for a date. He never realized this, I have to point out the obvious to him and I hope it made his day!<br /><br />Close to three hours after, I am on my way to work and because my stomach was complaining because I haven't had any meal since that morning, I dropped by to yet another fast food chain to grab some chow. I know, I am not living a healthy lifestyle and whatnot. I gobbled the burger in less than 5 minutes and downed the pineapple juice and a can of coke. Now I'm full but now I don't feel like working anymore either. Dang!<br /><br />So I decided to take a nap in my workstation since no one is around anyway except for my partner. I asked her to wake me up after 30 minutes just so that I will have the energy to work. I am like a boa constrictor who after eating will go hibernating for quite a while until I will have digested what I consumed. But no, scratch that. Instead of waking up and going back to work. I decided to just call it a day. Now there's goes another unproductive night. Blah!<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-59991592641431252192009-11-25T15:45:00.000-08:002009-11-25T16:07:03.601-08:00another one bites the dust<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"><br />Just recently, the blogosphere has been bombarded with issues regarding love and sex and how the two gets intertwined and confused by some. Well.. another one bites the dust! A couple of minutes after I tidied my workstation to start working for the day, a friend barged in and said he has something to tell me. Okay, I'm all ears! So he started telling me about this guy he used to see and some of our friends reject because... well lets just say our circle of friends are mean and feelingeras and they think they are uber blessed with good looks and the guy is somewhat off the radar.<br /><br /></span></span></div><div> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">Anyway, though I feel for him because of what happened between him and the <a href="http://8hourshift.blogspot.com/2009/09/distinctions-of-men-and-sea-critters-on.html/">sea urchin...</a> errr... the guy, I cannot help but laugh because I totally saw it coming. Not that I disapprove what's going on between the two of them but rather because with how he narrated how things were going, I can sense that this is another one that will go down the drain faster than he can let down his golden hair so his prince charming can give it a tug.<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">The good thing though is, he just laughed at the entire hullabaloo instead of bawling his eyes out, getting drunk and dragging me along to go videoke in a jam packed bar. Yeah, he sure was full of guts that time and mind you, he was on the verge of tears while singing. Embarrassing!<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">Now what cracked me up while he was telling me his story were the classic lines the guy gave him. Imagine being asked "Why me?" "Can we just be friends?" and "Don't tell me you're in love with me?"<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">And of course my friend being the drama queen that she is, asked the guy: "So all the while, it was just me who's in love here. I thought the feeling is mutual." Gawd! I think I just threw up a bit in my mouth. But of course since I was supposed to be the shoulder to cry on, I fronted a serious face and tried to console him the best I can.<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">Then of course the scene won't be complete without me saying my scripting. So I donned on my sweetest smile and told him, "My friend, remember in these times it is always best not to assume. Sex is just sex and regardless of how great it is, you're not to confuse it with love. Weeks ago, you said he is no longer contacting you. Not returning your calls and not even texting back as to how he's doing. A guy who's into you won't wait more than two or three days even to get in touch with you. Bottom line: he's not into you!"<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">"But the sex was great, he's sweet and all that" he countered. "Oh well, if that's the case then make him your fuck buddy," I answered. The thing is, the guy won't even kiss him the night he stomped on my friend's heart and mind you my friend wants to go to bed that night with him.<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009"></span></span> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style=";font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;" ><span class="208554700-24112009">On the brighter side of the spectrum, the reason why my friend isn't grieving <strike>that much</strike> is because he found another one. This new guy exerted a lot of effort just to get his number that he asked a lot of friends and finally got what he wants. Is that a good thing or what? Now, the more pressing concern is whether the guy is really serious or if he's just in for another ride. I've said it before and I'll say it again, there's tons of fish in the water so go figure how to fish!</span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-6994527756880931042009-11-23T18:35:00.000-08:002009-11-23T19:37:43.749-08:00a text message<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><blockquote><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"Hun, how come <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">wala</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ka</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">nibisita</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">nako</span>? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Kalagon</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">jud</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">taka</span>!"</em></span></p></blockquote></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Those were the exact words in the text message I received on my way to work. <em>Hon, why didn't you visit me? I will haunt you?????</em> Creepy! I was left completely bewildered and I was honestly spooked out!</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Then I realized that the only person who calls me Hun is the same girl who got shot on her way to work. Who got robbed and helpless as she was, being so skinny and for crying out loud for being a girl, she got shot on the chest which ended up puncturing her lungs.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I came to work that night completely hyped to hear that our department bagged a place during the recently concluded inter-account quiz bowl. Then the news completely blew the enthusiasm out of me and I was weak on the knees that I needed to sit down to calm myself. It's situations like that that really makes me shut up and just think of how fortunate I was during the time that I got mugged and all my stuff were taken away from me. Although I was left bleeding on the side, it was just a small cut and I wasn't really stabbed or plunged to death with the freaking knife.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She was at the hospital for a week and because of the crazy schedule due to the client visit and whatnot, I completely lost track of time and failed to visit her. I know, I know.. Nobody can rely on me when it comes to time management. I suck big time at it! They said she was hooked to various wires and there were tubes inserted her body and now she's all stitches.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She is a good friend, although one hell of a whining agent and a self confessed bitch, nobody has the right to just take her life away from her. What has happened to the world? I know I have to make up for not being there at the hospital but thank heavens she's now OK! If (God forbid!) you will ever encounter such incident, give away whatever you have with you. Things are replaceable. Your life is not!</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She's recuperating quite well and hopefully she'll be back on her feet to continue with her battles. And yeah, I guess I deserve that text message. I will just get even with her if she's completely healed. </span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-35255401288155848962009-11-20T11:55:00.000-08:002009-11-20T12:39:03.357-08:00its a s.l.o.w. friday<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Got in here at 8PM, it's still 4AM and I won't be hauling myself out of this place not until 9AM. Blah!<br /></span></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span class="754514019-20112009" style="font-size:100%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">The <span class="754514019-20112009">things that happened within the past few hours:<br /><br /></span></div></span></div><div style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div> <div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="754514019-20112009" > </span><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span class="754514019-20112009" style="font-size:100%;"><div style="text-align: justify;">1<span class="754514019-20112009">. Saw someone crying because they just lost a site-wide dancing competition. Err... I usually empathize with people who are so emotional but this time, I feel like laughing at her f</span><span class="754514019-20112009">ace. I mean come on, losing is part of the game. You hope but you don't expect! Besides, their performance sucks big time. I swear!<br /><br /></span></div></span></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="754514019-20112009" > <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="754514019-20112009">2. Someone gave me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Starbucks</span> again, I don't know why but since it's for free then Thank You!<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="754514019-20112009">3. And of course, drinks are better appreciated if there's food. Lo and behold, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">KFC</span> Zinger is here to save the day. Thank you so much again? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Teehee</span>.. I know I'm unhealthy.<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="754514019-20112009">4. I also heard from an old friend and was completely aghast to know that now he's got a son??? Oh well, I guess he's finally moved on.<br /><br /></span></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="754514019-20112009">5. Then I got this cute email. S</span><span style=""><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ome</span> people are just so "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">emo</span>" that they even drag fruits along with their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">emo</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ness</span> but this "art" really made me smile like this: (^_______________^)</span></div></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="754514019-20112009" ><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="754514019-20112009"><span><span><span class="754514019-20112009"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Swb61BhCpdI/AAAAAAAAAQE/9Gd3u64fkrg/s1600/emo.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Swb61BhCpdI/AAAAAAAAAQE/9Gd3u64fkrg/s400/emo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406284191551890898" border="0" /></a></span></span></span></span></div></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" class="754514019-20112009" ></span><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div> <div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><div face="trebuchet ms" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="754514019-20112009" style="font-size:100%;"><span style="">6. And I just met another blogger earlier: <a href="http://www.dhonpal.blogspot.com/"> Dhon </a> </span></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3C/b"><br /></a><span class="754514019-20112009" style="font-size:100%;"><span style=""> Go check out his page. Suddenly, after meeting people (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">bloggers</span>) the past days I feel like going out and meeting other <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">bloggers</span>. I mean, it's good to be back in touch with the world, out of the dark and dank cave that I've been living in. I feel human again. So any <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">bloggers</span> wanna meet up?<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </span><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="754514019-20112009" style="font-size:100%;"><span style="">And who knows what will happen the next few hours. I still have 5 hours to go. It sure is a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">slooooow</span> Friday, oh it's now Saturday. Now I lost track of the days. </span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-66112720025755320012009-11-15T08:17:00.000-08:002009-11-15T08:48:24.958-08:00me, myself and my stupidity<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This will be a quick post as I have more pressing things to attend to. I am here at work on a freakin' Sunday because there are a lot of back logs. Anyway this entry is about how silly and stupid I can get and how my stupid pranks backfired at me. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />Since it's a Sunday the office is very quiet and I have the place all to myself. My partner will be coming over to finish her part of the back logs. I usually play tricks on her scare her to death by hiding under the desk and giving her a coronary the moment she sees me lurking there like Toshio from <em>The Grudge.</em></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />One time she was late and she sent me an SMS saying she will just make up for being late and buy me dinner at KFC. So fine, apology accepted. The moment she entered the office I heard her ask the guard outside if I am still in. I was nowhere to be seen, I was hiding under her desk and I pulled the chair forward so she won't see me. She almost threw the food at me as pulled her chair and I started crawling out of the desk. She was shrieking like a mad banshee and she was torn between crying and laughing out loud.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />Now, I got in first again and I heard someone at the entrance. So I quickly hid behind the door to scare her and then laugh at her face. I know, I am mean. This time though as I've said my silliness backfired because who came in was not my partner but my manager! Eerrr, she sure got surprised and gave out a shriek but she almost smacked me. I just lamely said I thought she was the person I was expecting to come in and asked her why she's here on a Sunday. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><em><br />"What we're you thinking? Are you trying to kill me?"</em> she asked.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />Uhhhmm.. Maybe? She just laughed after though so I guess it wasn't that bad. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-4904360445540917822009-11-10T16:52:00.000-08:002009-11-10T16:54:59.597-08:00im addicted<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/SvoLECG3L8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/4n0tTRvM7gI/s1600-h/massage.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402642866897366978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 367px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/SvoLECG3L8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/4n0tTRvM7gI/s400/massage.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I used to say that I will never fall into the wickedness of massage and massage salons. I am not just saying that for the hell of it but I have my reasons. First, I am very ticklish that even the slightest contact of the hand on my body will make me squirm like as if I am set on fire. Silly really but that's just how my body reacts. Another thing is, every time I get a full body massage the next day I am sick, literally. With snot running down my nasal orifice and whatnot. Then I remember that at the start of the year I made a New Year's resolution: never say never.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So I confess, I ended up eating my words because now I am addicted to Thai massage. I am still ticklish but its sheer heaven hearing bones cracking (including my body) inside the spa. A bit <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sado</span>-masochistic but that's just me. I had my full Thai body massage for the fourth time in four straight days. I don't know if that's a good thing or what but I'm enjoying it.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><div align="justify"><br />Then last Monday, while I was lying on the mat waiting for the masseuse to shatter my body to fragments, I remember the things I shared with my friends in reference of course to massage since that's what I am writing about now. There's my good friend who every after drinking session goes straight to a massage parlor to get his body caressed, fondled and what not by the masseur and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">errr</span>.. the rest is too graphic to be talked about here. I just hope you got my drift though.<br /><br />Then there's my other friend who fell in love with his masseur. Kind of weird really because he had a boyfriend and his lame excuse was he just wants a diversion. Well to each his own. Good thing though he ended the quasi-relationship before went completely bonkers over the guy, else he would be running after his money. </div><br /><div align="justify"><br />Then I remembered one time, we ended another drinking spree at around 5am in the morning and this friend started looking for an open parlor. Where are we supposed to go at that unholy hour to get a massage? There are a few around the city that are still open but he doesn't want to do it with a masseuse. So we scoured the outskirts of the city and even came to this spa/salon/whore house in A.S. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Fortuna</span> in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Mandaue</span> City. Thinking that they have masseurs inside because of this huge poster of David <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Boreanaz</span> half naked we parked outside and asked around. </div><br /><div align="justify"><br />They charged P1500 for an hour of massage and that includes everything and I don't want to know what "every" includes BUT they don't have any masseurs. Mind you, the moment we entered the establishment we can hear moaning and beds creaking. Upon hearing the welcoming sounds my friend made a dash for the door as if he just got burned. Oh and by the way, in case you might be interested to check out the place it's Duke Massage. </div><br /><div align="justify"><br />So I guess the world of massage, masseuse and masseurs is like a breathing niche of interesting lives. Kind of like a little underground coven only with more people involved. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Errr</span>, scratch that! I suck with analogies. And before I end this post there's this online guy who messaged me who claimed that he's straight and yet he's been offering <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">lingam</span> massage and more for a good 4 years now. As if I'm buying that crap! If you don't know what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">lingam</span> massage is go figure and let me know your thoughts! </span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-52922363915899678342009-11-09T12:20:00.000-08:002009-11-09T12:30:12.472-08:00atleast i feel loved.<div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Svh6vBOodJI/AAAAAAAAAPs/UM9GfVDHnrY/s1600-h/coffeejell.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402202701233157266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 377px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Svh6vBOodJI/AAAAAAAAAPs/UM9GfVDHnrY/s400/coffeejell.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I feel so loved today. A good friend just came back from her trip from Manila and she got me a pack of hopia with mocha flavor which is kind of weird and at the same time something new to my palate. There's also this pandan flavor which I think tastes better than the mocha ones. Then earlier my mother called me up, initially upset because I haven't been in touch for days (and that's because I didn't buy any prepaid credits for my phone as I hardly make use of it) but in the end told me that she misses me a lot and that she loves me.<br /></span></p><br /><p align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402202805691680434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Svh61GXfBrI/AAAAAAAAAP0/fQ5OLPNmjl0/s400/hopia+mocha.JPG" border="0" /><br />Then while inside the cab on my way to work the driver was very kind to ask me if the AC was just ok and that he'll adjust it if I want. Something trivial really but doesn't happen a lot so I say it's worth noting. Then out of nowhere one of the leaders gave me Starbucks coffee. Not really into fancy coffee (and something more expensive than a 3-in-1 Nescafe is already fancy for me) but he gave it for free so why not! Then my seatmate, although she raised her eyebrows at the gesture, gave me some of her rice cakes. So now I have coffee and cakes. Sweet!<br /><br />Everyone is more than willing to feed me and I don't even look like a malnourished animal. What can I say, I'm easy to please. Before the end of the day I might end up bloated but at least I feel loved! </span></p><br /><br /><div></div></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-9428572867610775172009-11-08T17:33:00.000-08:002009-11-08T18:42:19.002-08:00when I snap, I bite.<div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Lately, I just feel so snippy that I have the tendency to start biting anyone who gets in my way. From last Friday until last night, I snapped a couple of times. First was when this fling turned into super cheesy friend started bugging me and go drama queen. He <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">texted</span> me asking if I would like to meet up that day to jog. I haven't been feeling well lately so I declined but he made a big fuzz about it saying I have been eluding him for months now. I don't know what he had for lunch that time but he started throwing daggers at me until we had a heated verbal opposition. He lambasted me saying "I am playing hard to get and it's not as if I am good looking enough for him to go loco over." Take that!<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />I grew my horns right there and then and skewered him to kingdom come. So I sent him a reply: "I know I'm not good looking and what is it to you anyway? I know my worth and how come you keep on asking for sex? If I'm not that hot you would have taken a clue and walked away when I started ignoring you. You are so lame!" I know that sounds too cocky but I felt being defensive. He <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">texted</span> back: "Sorry. It's just that I'm bored and I feel like bugging you." "Yeah right! You can take your boredom up your ass cause I'm not in the mood to play your silly games," I quipped.<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />Another instance was with this new online friend. He is a blogger that I've seen around but never said hi to and we were supposed to meet up and chitchat over my happy food. I didn't take my dinner that night thinking that we were going to push through with our meet up. So I went to work with an empty stomach. I was a bit ecstatic to finally meet up with another blogger aside from the usual crowd that I hang out with. He was online when I logged in and I confirmed if we are going to push through with the meet up. I don't know what happened but he started telling me that he feels I was just being forced to meet up with him and that I don't really feel like meeting up at all. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Errr</span>.. I didn't take my dinner??? We ended up not meeting that night and I don't know if we ever will.<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><br />Then last night, my two brothers, my older brother's girlfriend and her two friends decided to go <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">videoke</span>. They arrived late and I felt sorry for my brother for he has been calling her but she is not picking up. She was not in the mood when she arrived and she started whining at my brother. That did it! I snapped again and went after her neck. "If you don't feel like coming you could have informed us ahead of time instead of ruining our night. This was you're idea and I don't appreciate you throwing tantrums when we waited for close to two hours here without a word from you." Then I excused myself and played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">DOTA</span> to make myself feel better. I was just so annoyed I feel like literally eating her alive.<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><div align="justify"><br />And that didn't end there. When I paid for my usage at the cafe where I played <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">DOTA</span>, the bitch at the counter started complaining that she doesn't have change for my bill. My eyebrow hit the ceiling and I started growling to warn her that I am to go after her neck. My vitriolic tongue is about to spit acid shit on her face. Good thing she left her post. </div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br />My youngest brother then called me up and we met at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jollibee</span> to have my usual happy food for snacks. He told me that I was just so mean to my brother's girlfriend and that she felt humiliated. He was laughing when he told me that my face looks so funny when I'm annoyed. I'm just so transparent that they can feel the tension inside the room. I guess that's just me. I am no good with poker face or what have yous. I just hope this week will be totally different.</div></span>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-64229345047678899712009-11-02T15:49:00.000-08:002009-11-02T15:52:31.011-08:00fries and sundae: my own brand of happy food<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Su9waO6HOsI/AAAAAAAAAPk/mlU9QOB9VpQ/s1600-h/sundae.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/Su9waO6HOsI/AAAAAAAAAPk/mlU9QOB9VpQ/s400/sundae.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399658074221263554" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="493071723-02112009">There are times when we feel so defensive and territorial to the point that we get annoyed when other people are hanging around with our friends and our friends opted to join them for a change of environment. Happens a lot really and I guess it's kind of normal for people to feel a pang of jealousy every time they feel abandoned. It's not really that they are being left out or forsaken it's just that it's wise to sometimes detach yourself with the people you usually tag along with. You need to grow and that would mean jumping out of your comfort zones. As they say, familiarity breeds contempt.<br /><br /></span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="493071723-02112009"></span></span> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="493071723-02112009">We don't really have to limit and have our world revolve around the lives of our friends. Even husbands and wives don't share the same activity everyday, yet they know who they go home to. How much more can you expect from friends? Letting each other broaden horizons is the best thing to do. Though it's natural to sometimes feel a twinge of envy towards those people whom your friends are spending time with, remember that if those people you regard as friends are your real friends then through thick and thin, despite the new acquaintances they meet along the way, they will always put you in the bigger picture.<br /><br /></span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="493071723-02112009"></span></span> </div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="493071723-02112009">As to the reason why I'm blabbering again, I remember my other friend last Sunday was a tad disappointed when he saw that one of our friends is hanging around with new faces. Not just that, I am trying to make myself understand as well that really: it's easier said than done. I am in that position right now and I'm currently eating my heart out while looking at my friend's album with her new friends. It's just one of those days when I feel like being selfish and no, I won't tolerate this for long. So I'm off to grab my happy food or junk: fries and sundae. </span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-10569279558061729332009-10-25T06:51:00.000-07:002009-10-25T08:18:28.825-07:00phone sex anyone???<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/SuRh3fmzsuI/AAAAAAAAAPc/Be5hsGDvi4k/s1600-h/phone-sex.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/SuRh3fmzsuI/AAAAAAAAAPc/Be5hsGDvi4k/s400/phone-sex.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396545859501667042" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;font-family:trebuchet ms;">To each his own they say but I honestly just cannot understand why people gets turned on by phone sex. Owkay, so you're touching yourself while you hear the other person on the other line neigh like a horse in heat but still I cannot fathom where's the fun there.<br /><br />I would be a total hypocrite if I would say I haven't tried phone sex but I wouldn't say I enjoyed it either and yes, feel free to press the eject button to catapult me to oblivion and I wouldn't care if you wouldn't buy that. So we both came and that's that. How do you explain it? It's that spur of the moment you get when the itch is there and you need release, after which you find yourself asking: what was I thinking?<br /><br /><br />I remember one time while I used to be with my previous account at our old location and I have an office mate who is so fond with foreigners. She is a lady boy whose past time includes chatting online with other nationalities and having them visit her to show them err.. the beauty of the city. Anyhow, we were at the closing shift that time and one of her "friends" called her up. Since it would be too scandalous to have everyone hear their conversation, she moved to the vacant workstations and continued their little talk. Their little talk turned out to be too naughty that everyone stood up to check her out since she started moaning. She then explained that her boyfriend needs a little fixing and she just gave him what he's asking for. So there!<br /><br />This morning I woke up early because again, I forgot to switch my phone to silent mode. My phone was ringing like crazy and when I checked who's calling it was one of my flings before who I thought was already partying with the worms six feet under. I haven't heard from him for the longest time. I wonder what he's up to.<br /><br />I sleepily answered the call and he asked if he just woke me up. I told him that's fine and asked what he wants. He said he just wants to check how I'm doing. After a few minutes he started talking naughty and he blatantly asked me if I'm up to phone sex. He woke me up at 8am to ask me if it's ok to fucking have phone sex with him early in the morning!<br /><br />I didn't answer him and when he continued talking I pretended I can no longer hear him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Hello? Hellooo... Matt, I can't hear you. Hello?? You still there?</span>"<br /><br />and then I cut the call and of course just to make sure he won't call back, I switched off my phone.<br /><br />Someone just fucking called me early in the morning to talk crap and pretend he's having sex with me. That's no way to treat someone who's as arid as the Sahara Desert for the longest time. You can take your whining and dirty talk somewhere else. I'm not in the mood to entertain kinkiness and I don't care about your morning wood.<br /><br />Now, you may ask what's the point of this post. Nothing really, it's just that I'm listening to one of my office mates talking about phone sex while having dinner.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-43776317309680022832009-10-22T16:48:00.000-07:002009-10-22T17:00:18.283-07:00i woke up today with this feeling, that better things are coming my way<object width='315' height='80'><param name='movie' value='http://www.ijigg.com/jiggplayer.swf?songID=V2AC4A7GPD&Autoplay=1'><param name='scale' value='noscale' /><param name='wmode' value='transparent'><embed src='http://www.ijigg.com/jiggplayer.swf?Autoplay=1&songID=V2AC4A7GPD' width='315' height='80' scale='noscale' wmode='transparent'></embed></object><div style='width:300px;padding:4px;background:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma;text-align:center;'><font size='3><a href='http://www.ijigg.com/songs/V2AC4A7GPD'>Keep on movin - Five My Music - by Five</a></div>
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<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009">I havent been blogging lately as I am just too caught up with sleeping and running and playing badminton and errr, more sleeping. Friends already asked me whats with another blog hiatus and I just shrug the question off saying I don't feel like writing lately. </span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009"></span></span>
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<br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009">Today is actually an exception as this morning made me really really happy that I am compelled to write a short note about it. </span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009"></span></span>
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<br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009">Our department/account is looking for another officer and the search ended the other day. Today the news went out and much to the dismay, consternation, dread and whatnot of the other leaders, it was my friend who snatched the position dangling in front of the noses of their friends who vied for the position. </span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009"></span></span>
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<br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009">I was listening to the song Keep on Moving earlier and the song was playing on a loop while I was happily chatting with my Pok. I guess the song was pretty timely (really!) because my friend who was about to throw in the towel gave it another shot as I pleaded (and I know he is not the type who just quits that easily) and the effort paid off. </span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009"></span></span>
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<br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009">He was about to leave the company and start anew in Manila because he thinks a new beginning is what he needs (I say he just wants to go there because he is gaga over <a href="http://maxwell5587.blogspot.com/">Max</a> and he is just itching to see him in the flesh but that's TMI already and I know he will kill me for this.).</span></span></div> <div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009"></span></span>
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<br /></div> <div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"><span class="252571822-22102009">I am just so glad that I wasn't able to contain my excitement, I rushed to their floor (and I almost bumped on the glass door) to congratulate him instead of sending out an email. So there! Congratulations my dear friend and welcome to <strike>hell</strike> another endeavor. This calls for a celebration so bring out our friends Jose and Absolut.</span></span></div>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6066358411403669010.post-28867122920167322292009-10-15T07:21:00.000-07:002009-10-15T07:28:04.980-07:00it's not the size that matters, it's how you rock the boat that counts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/StcxSCXqISI/AAAAAAAAAO0/snI65A1POIc/s1600-h/rock+the+boat1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tWm2It15idw/StcxSCXqISI/AAAAAAAAAO0/snI65A1POIc/s400/rock+the+boat1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392833264742965538" border="0" /></a><br /><blockquote><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />"Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.'<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> --- John Wayne </span> <blockquote></blockquote><br /></blockquote>eye_spyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06474298324322975191noreply@blogger.com16