Transexuals

This kind of gender mimicry, and "copycat"-ing is such a spit to the face to women. Don't you guys see this as an insult? A man thinks, that all he has to do is cut off his dick and put some tissue balls under his blouse, and that makes him a woman. Now the transfucker is excused from the working responsibilities of one sex and the reproductive bleeding pains of another.

You wanna be a woman? Have a period. I dunno what it feels like, but I like to imagine my cock spitting out blood. It's rather nasty.

Kenneth Cole

pag wala kang credits

Why am I unapproachable?

because I'm really a nice guy after all.

It isn't really that you're shy right? Because you seem to click with everyone else. You just go and talk to the whole dam room and skip me. Why? Is it because I threaten you? Because you're afraid? Let's do this the scientific way and break down the Hibachi Physique.

Why do I seem unapproachable?

First up...
I'm rich. (Now let's be honest here) There's a certain elitist level that rich people posses. I observed this in high school that the richest members of the batch were the ones untouched simply because everyone was scared that they couldn't cope with their lifestyles. Because if you do befriend the rich, you'd have to go shopping with them, eat with them and go wakeboarding. None of which can keep your wallet afloat. Befriending the rich guys would mean that you'd have to starve for about 4 days to survive one gimik. If you can't match the rich, they often call you names like "Carl Estanislao" or "taga-probinsya". And you don't want to look like an un-elite now do you? So you stay away. Far as possible from those that can snip your savings away. You stay mysterious to them, hoping that they may never discover the middle-classer within.

Next reason is that I sound like someone who smells the blood of an Englishman. Fie Fye Fo Fum, My voice is the ultimate "Okay this guy isn't 13" voice. The "He must've been circumsized time and time again" voice. I pretty much sound like the next James Earl Jones. When you try to look for someone to talk to, you wanna find someone who sounds like Patrick Dempsey or Edward Burns. You want someone who, when you're talking to him, has a warm tone that could penetrate your veins. Unfortunately there'll be no warm, happy feeling when you're talking to me. The experience is almost scary. It's like a tall, angry oboe is yelling at you.

Third.. I am good-looking. Unlike the previous blog, this isn't to make yabang. I'm being honest here. I have nice brown eyes (that very few will notice) and I've got forest brown hair. It's not the "Look oh... If I put my hair against the sun, it's really brown" brown. Doofuss. My hair is "If you look closely, you'd agree its brown" brown. I've modelled. I have been crush ng bayan of the dollhouse and during second year, when I brought an Axe clicker to school to count how many girls would stare at me for three seconds, my clicker registered a 63. Good looking people, just like rich people have that aura of untouchability for two reasons. The first is the stereotype of Naomi Campbell that shows how bratty good looking people can be. Second, I think that good looking people always assume that people who approach them have a crush on them. For example, there was this girl in Comsci class who sat beside me. At that moment, I quickly assumed that she had a crush on me. During Philo, another girl was saying "Enchong, you're such a lazy guy". I didn't take her seriously. At that moment, again, I assumed that she started the "you are lazy" conversation because she had a crush on me. I am a vain son of a bitch. But my good looks are stopping me from meeting a nice young girl who just wants to talk to me. Admit it people! It's much easier to talk to Quasimodo than it'd be with Phoebus!

Another reason is that I'm oriental-looking. I dunno what it is with these people, but I always view the Chinese as racist bastards. There's something inside of me that feels that the Chinese feel that they are in an exclusive sect that nobody else should penetrate. Maybe its because I know a couple of girls who can only date Chinese boys or I always see Koreans travel in threes. But I could never muster the courage or quite simply the will to go to a Chinese girl and talk to her. I feel as if an entire Chink mafia would come down on me. So now, other Filipinos feel like they can't talk to me. They think that I'd hate them or something. Do some Kung-Fu or something. Chopstick their balls or something.

Next is that I'm tall. The average Filipino male is 5'4. That's a full seven inches under me. The average Filipina is 5 feet tall. That's eleven inches under me. So I put myself in another person's body and imagine someone who's 11 inches taller. Would I talk to that guy? Hell no. I'd run away and start yelling "Godzilla! Godzilla!"

But the final reason why I don't attract people, why I am unapproachable...
is the fact that I have no boobs.

Yan lang pare.

If you want people to talk to you.
Get boobs!

Simply because we can

Today, I decided to run with the poolers through Serendra for the annual Fort Run. It wasn't as bad as I expected, considering the fact that I ended behind Fie the last time. Today I finished third to Carls and Anj in the 5k, as it should always be in my book. But afterwards, i decided to treat myself to NO Krispy Kreme donut. My body's endured so dam much to get itself back into sexy high school shape, an original glaze would spell doom for the calorie count.

Later that afternoon, my mom suddenly got the tingling for Razon's Halo-halo. Instead of going to ATC, we went to Market! Market!, hoping that the original could do justice to my mother.

I don't know how it happened, but our little merienda trip to the Fort ended up with us having five new things.
1) New DVD player
2) New sandals for me
3) a 19 million peso condominium
4) a rug
5) a box of Krispy Kreme


Don't ask.
That's how it goes around here.
Simply because we can.

Pot smokers always say, it's organic, it comes from the Earth!, but you know what else comes from the Earth? LAVA.

Adulting

I am talentless, lazy and high maintenance.

 Who the fuck can beat that?

King Kong

I always feel really bad for movie monsters that get tricked into falling off a cliff or shot by a plane. They shouldn't be punished for being monstrous; it's their nature, dumbass.

A high-schoolish rant

I don't want to know your heart's desires. I don't want to die to impress you. Woman! I am officialy too lazy to be whipped. No more enthusiasm to be the perfect guy. I don't care about it.

FUCK NICE GUYS!

Fuck trying to be one!

It ain’t wrong. I just don’t really have any motivation left be one anymore. Before, there was this thing in every guy to create this image of himself. The real him, so true and profound… just make dam sure to hide all the bad shit.

5 things that guys never tell women they're trying to court, yet are most probably true

1. They check their LJ's, friendsters and multiplys
2. They have porn.
3. They use the porn.
4. The guys night out events.
5. They play DOTA
   

I’ve always had a thing for good girls. I admit that the no drugs, no smoke, no alcohol, no sex, no clubbing thing has really impressed me about some people. But now I'm willing to let go any chance of meeting a nice young woman. I’ve officialy lost the motivation to be a goodie. POOF!
Can I just be foul-mouthed, careless, horny, angry and vile?
Can I be a real bad-ass now?
Can I just front-stab the entire motherfucking world?I am so fucking sick of this shit. Fuck!
Can I be perfectly honest here?!?

A date, right? That’s how it always goes. A chit-chat with a lot of issues brought up; some are trivial, some emotional, some dull, some interesting. Sometimes we tell the truth. Sometimes we lie.

When I do lie, I do it sincerely. I say things that she does like to hear. I smile and gloat. Sometimes “I can’t believe we like the same things”. And sometimes I say things to confuse her or twist her around in circles. I talk about relationships. Goddam relationships! And the crazy things I did which aren’t that great really! And goddam family problems which really don’t bother me at all! I don’t know why. Like my Kleptomaniac tendencies, I just fucking do it.

I apologize for doing it. It will never happen again.

There’s always an underlying reason to every good deed. To women of enormous breasts, the world is indeed perfect. Because guys like me… well, we make it perfect for you... yeah.. us malibog, douchebaggy, imperfect guys.

The imperfect guys are guys who lust for the fuck of it. Break laws and fuck hearts. They follow their pleasure principles (Anal, Oral or Phallic) and they don’t give a rat’s ass. In a world of no rules… they shall be truly happy. truly themselves.

The so-called perfect guy is the exact same thing... except with more motivation and a better talent to hide it. He thinks over and over whether the things he does are right.

Why?

Because he is never the master. He shall always tread behind the will of the woman. I’m not saying that women are worse. I’m saying that the “perfect guy” is willing to tip the scales to the opposite sex a bit more. Guys are called "whipped" because they degrade themselves. How could anything be worth degrading yourself? How? You fucking romantics!

Justice is the primary foundation of love. Without it, we merely have obsession and infatuation.

To my fellow men…

Stay men.

Hibachi out!

I was working kanina. A friend texted me and I couldn’t reply.
I couldn’t reply.. coz I ran outta credits.
Think about it.
I work in Globe and I ran out of credits.
Isn’t that funny?

...

Well it was! when the irony was still fresh.

When I'm older I want my wife to cheat on me because then, years down the road after we've made up, whenever we're watching TV and a character on the show is cheating, I'll just know she's squirming in her seat feeling like a total heel. And you know what? That bitch deserves it.

The golden era is now behnd us

I love Carpool.

Not Carpool Carpool.

I mean the cool Carpool.

The guys who drink carpool.

The walang hiyaan carpool.

The "kung sinabi mo pupunta ka, pupunta ka talaga" carpool.

The golden era is now behind us. I don't want to insult the newbies or the younger generations, but it just won't be the same. The era of Krispy Kreme and Fuego dreams. The era of endless fun and Sangkyu Han. The era that brought me in touch with some of the coolest chaps on the South side of the toll gate. No trip shall ever be the same.

Here are some thing's I'm gonna miss.

I don't have a good repertoire of songs, but for those that I know, I do love singing them. I take some joy in that. But, singing in carpool can have its drawbacks. One is when you play an old/indie/unpopular song that no one gets, you're left decreasing the volume of your voice after the initial verse, after realizing no one else gets it. But Nikki always gets it. Nikki's sings the other part of "Your ex-lover is dead".

I'ma miss riding with Kylos, Carlyle and Fugana. No carpool bromance is more entertaining. The other bromances are just legit gay, and that's no fun at all. I'm looking at you LaSalle boys.

I'ma miss backstabbing the world with Perez. We were just bullied mercilessly as kids, so it's nice to find a kindred spirit. There's just a lotta hate in that 9pm Thursday trip. Thank you, Pin for keeping us in check.

I'll miss the Anti-love conversations. It's now the end of emo nation.

Manoy's nonsense will also be gone.

Expect carpool now to be an endless winter of "love" talk and silences. 

The shroud of the Dark side has fallen. The noobs better evolve.

The southern side

I haven't seen Las Pinas in a while. Sari-sari stores, coke in plastic strips and no security guards. I remember talking about my roots in the previous blog, and whaddya know, I wind up here for Jay's Birthday with some Southridge Boys whom I haven't seen in like a pretty long while. 

Not much has changed.

We exchanged weed knowledge over a makeshift table. At this point, I know nothing about weed, except the first time I tried. I nodded in response to the fascinating stories everyone had. Alain acted as the de facto medicinal expert, advising us witnesses to the perfect strategy and amount to get high. Science seems a bit interesting now. 

I then grab my second red horse grande. A minor miracle as I've never been able to get past one without resorting to pouring it out discretely to the pavement (which I have done in dark or outdoor bars. God help me for indoor drinking).

I miss this. Talking bout weed, girls, billiards and high school. All topics then overlapped in Rens' sexual fantasy.

I don't miss losing my money to coin flip bets to Jay's nephews. But I'm a sucker for small time taunts. I'm a regular Marty McFly. 

I love the whole "tagal na na di tayo uminom" thing. When you feel that you were once secure with your high school friends and when college came, you're yet to find that group that you feel utterly comfortable with. A bunch with the same depth of experience as you A bunch to whom you can say the likes of "I'm not a virgin anymore and I did it with that girl who looked like a fucking rodent. I was just horny guys" or "I have the hots for your friend man. I know she's your best friend and once your girl, but I dream about her naked at night". 

The originals. Here's out to you. 

Roots

List: My top 5 childhood toys
(in order)
5) Commando Spidey
4) Venom
3) The Thing
2) MegaZord (the first one)
1) Optimus Primal


They say looking at the past is wrong because it just draws too much attention, plus, a lot of emotion gets through and stays locked in your childhood. It drags you along for the ride.
And there you stay.
Visions of the past and the poverty of simple pleasures.
No worries. Just costumes. bicycles. and giant robots.

This is for you Roger Aggraviador,
whose dog bit me during his tenth birthday. I cried and ruined the party.
who had the first Mustang I've ever seen. And the ugliest one ever so far.
who knew how to dig holes at poke sticks at caged rabbits
who sang "besa me mucho" at every birthday party we had. That's why we stopped the sing-a-long.

This is for you Nathan Lorico,
who had the coolest toys ever.
who was way beyond his weight limit, yet still found a way to finish both our foods
whose house was the only one we could climb
who also climbed it the worst

and This is for you Jake Seneres,
who was the Blue Ranger
who taught me all about the wonders of Street Fighter and G.I. Joe
who, at one time, dressed up with me in Batman and Spiderman costumes.
who, at the same time, biked with me around the village fighting crime.
who was my pal.
who was my brother.
who was my bestest best friend ever.


I've never regretted leaving Las Pinas. I've made wonderful friends living in the rich end of Southside Metro, but it doesn't stop the guilt trip. Now I feel like a traitor...
not leaving a phone call after we moved.
not visiting when I could because it would just be "awkward" and "gay"
not even asking to go out for a cup of coffee when I'd see you guys

all this... to the "greatest bunch of guys I've ever met".

Hopefully our paths may cross again.. who knows.
But I hope they do in the future
when we're all rich blokes, family blokes, successful blokes...
who were once the best of friends.



" Let friendship double up our powers
You give a love and it all comes back to you
You're gonna be remembered for the things you say and do"
-Bugsy Malone