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Showing posts from April, 2010

Blues continue

There is no glory in this day. Nothing to ponder upon except the depressing conformities of normal life. Although I was able to make something worthwhile during my short stay in the studio. My review for the movie Cool Hands Luke. We had been given an unusual opportunity to watch this film. I really didn't like it. I know a lot of people who would, no doubt, but not really my cup of vodka.

Killing in the zone

Today is probably London's best weather ever. Not so cold, not so warm. I can't even say I've felt that feeling back in my country. It has a unique fresh vibration on its own that it's really exhilarating. It was awkward to wear just plain ol' white t-shirt in public not that it's the first time I've done it but still unusual. Remember that Little Bo Peep I've been talking about? Yeah, we saw each other again. I began hating on her. Not hitting, hating. I hate her fucking guts. I just wish she get buttraped by that hobo always passing by Goldhawk. She just nauseates me. The thought of her baffles why I even considered wanting her. She has the most despicable eyebrows known to women, crooked and seemingly artificial. Like an android or something awaiting her master's command, which quite sadly is to buttfuck him all day long. Enough of her. Even writing about her is oh so sickening. Today I love myself some Killzone. I have just been promoted to medi

Epic failure day

"Laundry day is a very dangerous day." - Rocko And rightfully so, my dear Australian friend. I woke up to find my old man pitching dirty laundry in the washing machine, coincidentally. It's been extremely dangerous, if not for anonymity of the Internet, for myself to be hanging around the neighbourhood. It seems like everything I do automatically become illegitimate screw-ups. I realize the more I dwell here, the more my mind sort of, like, fades away. I'm going dumber by the minute! Somebody please tell me it isn't so. I probably just taken in too much fungi in my body as I've been munching frequently on cooked mushrooms that dad loves to buy so much. Sometimes I just feel like wanting to punch myself so hard in my face unconscious.

There're bras in the bathroom

And it weren't mine. I wasn't able to go to English class earlier today because somebody left their washed bras in the bathroom. I figured it was too disgusting to touch so I left it there by itself and now I had my attendance in jeopardy yet again. I know the studio sucks but if it weren't for people in it I wouldn't give a horse dung if they ever disappear and never show themselves ever again.

Itching for something malicious

I can't put myself to sleep for one apparent reason. Malice. It's so excruciating. My eyes are starting to hurt, what, for a lousy fix. I'm pathetic. I need to get laid. Yet you can't spell and get laid without ladies. Life is woe and woe is me. The sun's about to come up and I'm stuck here with no cure whatsoever. This is just embarrassing. Fuck weekends.

Longstanding fascination with haiku

I have always been an avid haiku enthusiast. Haiku is fun because of its non-complex set of rules. It is possible to create one in just a minute. It's good for wordplaying and mind exercise, making you count a lot with your fingers the 5, 7, 5 syllables. If only I could have spoken Japanese it would have been much, much nicer. Since, well, haiku originated from Japan. I try my best to inflict haiku pain upon the world as much as I could starting with forums and social networking sites such as my status box in Facebook. The results are at times hilarious and most people would find it extremely annoying but at the very least I get to enjoy what I do. People have yet to complain. Perhaps soon but until then I'll be showering the blissful ignorance of some people with this haiku: C to Z lazy That is undoubtedly me I adore haiku

The wind sounds scare me

London wind is nothing compared to wind from my mother country. Here it feels as though it speaks and whispers something incoherent, it's chilling. Englishmen are probably used to having these sorts of weather conditions but for a tropicana like me it just feels somewhat eerie. Like it's coming from a suspense thriller movie or something. Not that I miss my country, damn no. It's just adapting to this new environment is something I could never have thought of several years ago. My comfort zones just disappear like they never even existed. I wonder what life I would have had if I fought to stay back home. So many possibilities running in my mind, it's all so unclear. The least thing I'd want to trigger is regret. I love London. I prefer this than back there. But something peculiar just feels so, you know, wanting to leap over my body and slap me back to my former form. Makes me remember people, friends and places. Aileen.

Back to cooking form

I was able to practice safe cooking earlier today no thanks to last night's unexpected turn of events.  I also think it's safe to assume now that I am back to my cooking regalia form. I was able to conjure up something neat I never expected was possible in my fire-burning apprenticeship. It was, well, just basically omelette with mushrooms, tomatoes and iceberg leaves, dashed with sprays of pepper and finish touched with olive oil. Magnifico! Although I personally think I added too much vegetable oil to begin with so it was caught in a minor situation. Really, I don't want to brag but I thought the taste was scrumptious with enough effort to back it up. It actually taught me a wonderful idea. But what the idea is I've yet to know.

Burning down the house.. and the neighbouring ones as well

Almost. Luckily I smelt what The Rock was cooking or else there would have been hellfire and brimstones coming out of a big red machine. Phew. It's horrible. All people in the household were sleeping and I was at room as per usual doing anything that involves regret and malice. Dad's entire home-cooked meal became soup d'etat. Glad my sense of smell is still tremendously effective. I never would have imagined what it feels like to lose a home. They would have killed me right then and there and all the burden of the world would be on my shoulders, even worse a visit to the morgue. I swear sometimes I really hate myself for being a damn klutz. Woe is me.

Time flies when you're (not) having fun

Seemingly, I recall many a person having to blabber about things with regards to their current predicaments most especially on social networking sites such as Twitter and Facebook. A normal bloke would shrug off the slightest bit of information pertaining to a long, lost friend and his toilet habits. He just doesn't care about it, and yet the friend goes on and on and on like internet zombies waiting for a pandemic meltdown of computers, scratching their heads wondering to themselves why the future just seems so artificial and plastic. Never mind me for doing updates on my Facebook. It just, for me, is a silly habit of letting everyone know that I still am alive and they need not worry about me since nothing special really happens last time we met. Sephiroth perfectly summarizes what my intentions are by saying, "I will never be a memory," but I'd be damned to admit if I really did like Sephiroth even then and now. My inner nerd tells me I did at one point, but my rep

In the future...

I hate the fact that I am procrastinating the creation of what is supposed to be the most controversial and godawesome novel ever known to man. It is by far legendary and to say it is a masterpiece would be an understatement. I cannot wait to hear critics blurt out praises instead of profanities that people usually hear when they open their mouths. I also cannot wait for it to top the charts as the numero uno best-selling novel man has laid his eyes upon, knocking down tree-wasting crap series of Twilights and Harry Potters. This will no doubt be the next best thing to the Bible. Unlike that, this is at the very least plausible and believable. Interviews and people asking me for autographs, shoving their copies furiously in mobs while I hastily run for cover in my not-so-cheap limousine with my celebrity girlfriend behind me cheering me on, mad as rabbits to be drowned in luxury, fortune and fame which are all, of course, provided only by me. Oh, a boy can only dream.

Weekends are the worst

I used to think that weekends are the best ever. It is a time when you and your pals can go hang out and party, waste petty time together and just live your life as you command it to without having to worry with your school or job or basically anything that gets your adrenaline-pumping existence connected to the reality of life. Now all that feeling in me is gone. I spend my entire weekend digging for non-existent lists of things to do. It is just unimaginably ghastly and naturally uncaring. It just is merciless. I loathe Sundays more. People just basically do random things on this day just to make their lives worthy, when in fact it really isn't. It all ends up barbarically for naught. As for me, I just sleep all of it away, in time waiting for Monday, which majority of everymen just plain hate. I can understand them in a way. Or probably not.

Burned my arm

Cooking is a very dangerous thing to do. You just never know what happens next. Either the cooking oil will abruptly go boom or that the food you're cooking suddenly becomes jumpy, going from here to there like it was alive and kicking. It all is very much uncertain, not to mention traumatizing.

I suck with wimminz.

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It's no surprise that I, as a male human being, am hell bent on procrastinating to each and every little thing that goes on with my life seeing that there is no reason to be proper and trim if no one is there to care. Responsibility is one thing I am working out to improve in my lifestyle. It is also one thing that tears my life apart having that emotional pressure telling you things which you should or shouldn't do. Everyone knows I'm a little bit lackadaisical, and I admit that, in almost every aspect of my life. I'm lazy. Probably unattractive. No. Scratch that. The point is you wouldn't want to be me. I  wouldn't want to be me. Every time this topic pops up I always get cynical, forcing myself to think a significant companionship is overrated, that it just comes one day, that I need not be pressured by the anxiety of people surrounding me. But the thing I'm missing is when emotional woes strike. It just happens. It's normal. So I return to the cycl

Unbearable Lightness

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That? Is me. A godawful, trying-hard, easily suffocating Picasa copycat. I just learned a little on how to use this nice application by Google. Makes Photoshop easier. I just realized this required loads of work. For my first time I had twelve photographs that took my entire night just to edit watermarks. WATERMARKS. I suck!! I know, right? I am finally able to show the internet of the wonders of my uber awesomesauce headset speakers I found waiting for me at Westfield. I bought them for average price. They look like earpieces but I doubt it fits even the largest of ears. My PSP Go looks puny compared to the speakers. I absolutely like it. It can be used with or without batteries, as long as you have USB components to plug it in. What a joy. Happy happy, joy joy. In this photo I included my LG Prada phone which looks even more tinier than it should. Shame on it! Happenings today. Hmm. Not much. The girl from my last post was NOT in class today. So FOOK. Anyway, I texted her afterw

I got butterflies in my stomach

I finally was able to muster enough courage to spend 10, 15 minutes with a particular woman I like in English class and it was nerve-wracking to say the very least. It wasn't much per se, but it was probably what I wanted it to be. As normal as possible. We chatted while picking up groceries, even though I didn't really need to. I was able to get her number. FINALLY. This was three months in the making. I want to invite her over on Friday for a nightout or something with the others. I am really hoping she could come. I want her to come. Oh please, please, pretty please? Women, making men's balls turn blue since 300 BC.

Too much, too little cynicism

Today I feel like writing my novel or script to-be. The thing is when I lift my fingers unto the laptop it is then that my laziness comes crashing down like a turbulent aircraft waiting the inevitable. Earlier the bicycle died on me in the middle of trying to pump the wheels. Instead of resuscitating it I ended up flattening it. For no apparent reason it did the opposite purpose, making matters worse. It was devastating. I ended up walking five, probably six blocks. The bike was far from convenient to begin with. It was cheap, ugly and annoyingly rock-like, taking extra effort to pedal and move despite having a sort of mechanism that deals with that particular sort of problem.  I am still disappointed with our household patriarch who is as time goes dragging on becoming more difficult to establish a formal relationship with. I guess none in this entire household is accessible to establish a formal relationship with. Does that make me the problem then?

Monday Borefest Monday

I have been sleeping on time lately without any apparent reason and it feels good to come back to your usual comfort zone. Although I have worries that my body is fighting back when I am acting lazily, most usual after waking up. It just feels like it locks up and I cannot return to sleep again for a couple of hours later. I kind of appreciate my body's concern but it is in some way dreadful and annoying, half-realizing that my body is not responding to my own commands. I am a rare coffee drinker, I quit smoking, I often exercise, not so much lately as part of being lazy is, well... not doing things. I am glad to return to school now. I am actually kind of excited in a way. The weather has been awfully nice recently and I have major control over the bicycle now, which previously was unavailable due to a lot of unforeseen circumstances I have no control over. I am just glad. Plus I learned how to make watermarks for my photos! Joy!!

Saturday 10

Let me introduce you to my new feature, the Saturday 10! Where ten random person/things/whatever I learned over the week are showcased according to awesomesauceity. This is my list, not yours, so I expect some to be kind of underwhelmed, but who the bloody hell cares? Hopefully this feature would go on on all Saturdays, yeah? Let us get right to it then! 10. Cashback Awesome movie is awesome. 9. iPad I want to be that asshole in Starbucks with an iPad. 8. David Cameron I am learning the English politics as much as my mother country. The more I know. 7. Antipinoy.com Food for the satirical mind. 6. I'm A Cyborg But That's Okay Park Chan-Wook's eccentric film about two mentals finding comfort with each other. Rain is in it, so imagine Asian girls screaming while watching him on screen. 5. Malcolm MacLaren English punk is MacLaren. 4. Adam Carolla For instigating the now infamous tirade against Manny Pacquiao, Philippines and its people. 3. Alex deLarge poster

S:BoS #11

This was a well-made episode despite the lack of mammary thereof. Unlike the previous ones, this episode dealt mostly with the supporting casts, especially Crixus and Batiatus. Lots of development and less episode fillers. The Crixus angle was lovely as he tries to retain his former glory. Batiatus' quest for dominance begins a new ground as he abducts a familiar face. Meanwhile, Spartacus is left haunted by images of Sura and Varro's death, as his relationship with Mira blooms anew. The only annoying cliche I can nitpick is the method towards the end about Spartacus knowing who the true perpetrator of Sura's demise is. Godsent messages are so Dr. Gregory House. I love House, come on, but him on my Spartacus?! Outrageous. My favorite part was Solonius and Ashur's scene. God, who doesn't hate Ashur? The action sequences were tame compared to the previous ones but can still be epic if not for the lack of Spartacus. The plot thickening is amazing, acting was mild (I s

Adam Carolla

The whole hullabaloo between Adam Carolla and the entire Filipino people have become increasingly infamous as time goes on. Fresh from the memories of people from the Philippines are the constant lambasting of foreigners from all walks of life. I shared a moment with these people earlier and while I have found some mildly interesting and trollworthy others were just too plain mindless, and imbecilic to boot. This cacophony would rage on for hours on end, and people would get the kick out of blurting profanities that I certainly doubt Carolla would even bother take a moment to read on. This whole fiasco is an implication for me to take an unlikely opportunity from, and one that would cause me, and people that can relate to me, a whole new level of funny.

I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell

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I liked the movie. There. I said it. I kind of like the premise. I really do not get where all the hate is coming from. Better than the last three American Pie movies, I guess. I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell is supposed to be a comedy, well it is, but somewhere along it changes pace from fratkid comedy to brama (bro drama) all the way down towards the end. Although it reeks and suffers from  R-movie cliches and the whatnot, the ability of it to narrow everything down basically to the characters' relationships instead of going all out compromising tits as a major selling point for the whole full run. The reason I think people would be disappointed was the lack of comedy which is basically what it is but what it is not, and when it does try to be it only leaves you hanging wet and clueless.  I read a lot of comments comparing the movie with The Hangover which is silly because I really did not find any comparison at all, besides being R-rated and jestful and includes a bachelor

Hopkins v Jones Jr. II

Round 6 was funny as hell. Only good thing entertaining about the entire match.

Cracks

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I lost track of time during this past holy week. I cannot specifically recall which particular day I began watching this movie. Was it yesterday or the other day? I think it was the day before yesterday but still unsure. I struggled to watch the movie, maybe because it was a movie that demands strict attention throughout or miss an important detail in plot. I wanted to finish but did not. Still the movie fascinates me. Much more fascinating is Eva Green's overall persona. My recollection of her past projects were ranging from satisfactory to mediocre. Her work here was noteworthy and left me a wide impression to find out more about her method of working, despite stopping midway through. Overall the movie in itself was reminiscent of the French movie Innocence in terms of setting and characters, not so much the plot. The thorough absence of male characters was a nice change of pace and less distracting than it should. Supporting casts in the part of students were inviting, endear

Sleep All Day

Not the Mraz song. Just woke up from a sudden sleep rage for the entire duration of Good Friday and woke up just in time for Saturday. We never even had the chance to leave and celebrate. Dad on the other hand was able to go to church as he normally does. Not me. Not a-me.

I am in love

God knows how many times I kept watching this. Madness, I tell you. Like Sparta. I can die peacefully now. 

What can a man do on a 3 AM Good Friday morning?

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Besides having to soak my face the entire night in front of the laptop screen, I was cooking, eating, looking for somebody to talk to and care, went to the bathroom, shaved my facial hair but left a goatee, and finally took a long much-deserved bath, play demo of Darksiders (love it), "rented" a couple of movies, and probably the last thing would be acting like a moron with dad. It is our way of showing affection, if not embarrassing. I cooked for myself 2 eggs, 4 franks and 2 honey hams. No rice. That shit is evil. I was trying to abstain from eating meat but starting just now would be too late to bother. I think I'll go out on a bike ride maybe later. Get myself some fresh air. Even a bottle of Smirnoff, heh.

Good Friday

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This commemorative day marks the crucifixion and death of Christ. It has been quite awhile since I last became heavily acquainted with matters pertaining to religion that I feel rather shamed of my actions. Nevertheless, I have always openly expressed my doubts to anything as extravagant as this topic. I consider myself an advocate of Objectivism thus rendering me in some ways a semi-atheist, involving myself in discussions that require faithful Christians to defend themselves and their belief. Semi in terms like wanting to but cannot. Convince me otherwise and maybe then we may come to terms. One could make assumptions of my past as being a close and intimate associate of Catholicism being a knight of the altar during my school age, attending seminars that demand faithfulness to the Creator, together with my mother, who as I recently discovered is not only terribly misinformed of religion but also highly troubled as to the direction of her vow of faith. I was also lucky enough to g

Maja for Preview

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Oh Maja, I am but a fool.

Sayonara, Install Other OS

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I have just updated my Playstation 3 console firmware to 3.21 and it is kind of disappointing to find out that Sony would have an update solely to remove an existing feature that many a person had paid for. I can understand the company's qualms and defensiveness pertaining to the security of the machine but they are not doing any favors to anyone by doing this without equal justification. I admit I was a little excited with George Hotz' discovery of an exploit but I never really expected much from it knowing many others have failed trying to do what he has been trying to. Now all of us have to suffer for one man's recklessness. The feature is not really something I use neither do I bother to have although it feels good to know that something like that is ready and available any moment I need it to. I have a 60gb console and am proud of it. It is one thing that separates the early adopters from the newer ones, as it had been something I shelled money for. Oh well. Here is

April Fools

In the spirit of the day where all maniacal fools come out of their caves to wreck havoc unto the innocence of everyday Earth, I am proud to announce that I will try my best to act as imbecilic as I can so as to make an ass out of myself and to shame the family name as, in a lack of worse words, statistically horrible as possible. I have been introduced to Remi Gaillard and his videos, and through the unlimited sources that we call internet I spent an entire night laughing my bollocks off wondering to myself how he actually pulls all his stunts as he does as much as stupid as they are. Protip: Never use 'as' too often. He has inspired me in heart to do things I normally would want to but couldn't. Now that he did, I hate myself for wanting to do so. I'll be thinking of something sinister and foolproof. You better watch out, world!