Thursday, August 18, 2005


There are people so private you don't even know their last names. And then there are those people whose lives is such an open book they can give Krissy a run for her money. I mean, even my bestest friends don't know every single thing about me. I still respect privacy, and everybody should too.

For those aforementioned people who never hesitate to tell strangers they met not two minutes ago, a few things we don't have to know:

1. What you ate for the last meal and how it made you feel.

2. Latest antics of your kids and/or pets, if you have them, no matter how extraordinary they seem. More often than not, they aren't. Plus we don't care at all because we're not related. Even hearing that from my cousins makes my eyes glaze over. Why can't parents understand that?

3. Your medical history, and the medical history of everybody related to you within two degrees of consanguinity and affinity.

4. Related with that, abnormal growths in your body. Specifically those that itch.

5. Your significant other and your love life. Like #2, I couldn't care less, so does other people. So you're in love and has a wonderful boyfriend, big deal. Unless your boyfriend is a major celebrity (at which point we would want to hear some juicy gossip) I cannot bear listening to such happiness.

Side dish - I know this lady who cannot for the love of God stop reminding every single living thing on the planet Earth that she has, finally, a boyfriend. After getting more than a few "my boyfriend this, my boyfriend that" I was ready to puke.

6. Your sex life and special talents in bed, even if you're having lots. Unless you're doing it with Brad Pitt. I would like to know how he is in bed, but please don't exaggerate.

7. How much you are making. Really.

8. Famous/influential people you know. I'm not impressed.

9. Famous/influential people you're related to. Same thing.

10. The amount of your debts. Ugh.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005


It might have been the TV overdose, or I'm completely going bonkers: why is it that whenever I see PGMA on TV I always think that it's not really her, but one of her numerous gay impersonators. I always have this urge to shout "Bading!" to the screen. Baaaad.

What if (this is the part where I cross the line from borderline schizo to full-blown manic depressive bipolar mode) it's not really her? It's actually a decoy, trained and perfected so it would walk, talk, move exactly the way she does. I mean, who are we kidding? She's not the most difficult to impersonate, judging from the Gremlin-like mushrooming of Gloria-decoy wannabes in showbiz. Oh yeah, she could also count the Nora impersonators as hers.

The decoy was maybe set up because of the volatility of her popularity right now. I wouldn't be surprised if she's suddenly pelted with banana peels and empty water bottles during one of her (lordy-its-so-boring) speeches. How do you make 80 million people forget something you did under the influence of idiocy? And you think you had problems.

I'm gonna go pretend working now.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Just Bummin' Chronicles 2

I am becoming a remote control freak. I cannot stand commercials, I flip and flip and flip to see whether any of my favorite channels have something more interesting. Result? I now confuse the Rugrats storyline with the South Park reruns. Disturbing.

In other news, I am horribly (and I mean horribly) attracted to Matt of the Joe Schmoe show. I don't know why so please don't ask me, and anyhow it's not up for discussion. Remember those weird guys I lust for? The attraction is something like that, a perverse curiosity of some sort.

Sometimes, when I am terribly bored out of my skull I turn to the Korean channel and dub my own dialogue for their telenovelas. Can be highly entertaining, but make sure you're alone or your mother will accuse you of not eating on time. She will then proceed to force feed you her concoction of boiled vegetables which is really disgusting.

I went to the mall again the other day. I now suspect a conspiracy among shoe stores: they will wait for me to be dead broke then they will go on sale at 80% off. That's equivalent to cutting my ears off then giving me diamond stud earrings. Pardon me, I make very poor analogies.

Oh well, I'm back to work on Monday. I hope I don't pass out from sheer exhaustion. Right. I will miss my SkyCable and the couch and the refrigerator and the remote and the cat stuck in the screen door.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Just Bummin' Chronicles 1

I am on sick leave for two weeks and I still have a week of it left. I should really be resting and stuff but really, how tempting would it be if your doctor just said "you're not allowed to work for two weeks so you can heal properly"? So damn tempting, I tell you.

So far, I have seen a mall again, something I haven't done for a while. I just didn't have the time and the inclination to go drooling at stuff I couldn't afford. Sadly, a mall is a mall anywhere in the world. (Not that I have been around the world.) They just all look the same. Especially SM malls.

(If you doubt me, go to any four SM Supermalls anywhere in the country and have your picture taken anywhere at random. Then have your friends guess which mall is which. Even you yourself might have difficulty remembering what is what. But then again, it might just be me.)

What I really want to do is travel, but I'm not allowed to because I'm (yeah, yeah) supposed to rest. Or else I will be bleeding for the rest of my life and one day I'm gonna look like Pepe Smith. Or a daing, whichever looks worse.

I lost a lot of weight, even though I spend my time sleeping and lying down and reading and watching TV. I love ETC Channel, and some Jack TV shows (Crank Yankers is effing funny). Desperate Housewives is my new favorite show, after SATC and Friends said goodbye forever. I'm still loyal to Will and Grace, Nigella Bites, and of course, Queer Eye. I think I have a crush on Kyle. I'm still waiting for Carnival's new season though.

-- To Be Continued --