Saturday, April 11, 2009

Videoke killed the radio star

You find yourself watching the beautiful sunset in the middle of a very luxurious mansion surrounded by powdery white sand and lush green palm trees nestled in the clear blue sea while immersed in a large jacuzzi with champagne, strawberries, and the most delectable treats ever known. Then, while adjusting the volume of your favorite soothing music played by the surround sound system in your island, you hear the most appalling noise which would make a crow's squawking a way better option to listen to - an out-of-tone leprechaun singing along the lines of "my, my, my Dilailahhhh, why, why, why Dilailahhhh, so bipor they cam to brik down the dor, porgive me dilailah I jast couldn't tik eny morrrr.."

Suddenly you wake up and saw that you're back from your dingy little room, realizing that it's all just a dream, uhhh, well, except that the leprechaun's voice you heard in your dream is real. Your leprechaun of a neighbor is acually singing his favorite videoke song, Tom Jones' half a century old song Delilah. And no, he's not inside of his house next to yours... He is actually OUTSIDE of his house next to your room.

As if that wasn't tormenting enough, that lame dimwitted neighbor of yours brought along his aggravating comrades to show off his brand new third-class videoke system complete with that ta-da-da-da-da tune after every song while the score for the person who sang appears. The crappy songs they sing are coupled with Gold Eagol (eagle) Beer and fried dog meat to come up with some ugly drunk big-bellied pigs sqweaking with all their might as the lyrics of their favorite songs run through their screen. It's like as if the end of the world is close and singing is the only way that could save them. Bah!

If there's anything more annoying than a marching band waking me up in the middle of my sleep, it's my next-door neighbor singing the most annoying songs at the top of their lungs with their utterly annoying off-tune voices and severely damaged word pronunciation. And to make it worse, they're doing this outside, right beside my bedroom window. I don't get it as to why some people would love to showcase their pathetic ability to sing so loud to the rest of the world, creating the worst case of noise pollution and disturbing others who are peacefully living. I don't get it as to why do they need to turn the volume of their speakers so loud when they don't need to do that to hear their songs clearly. And I don't get how they become so confident to sing that loud when their voices could not even compete with a dying pig's squeal, and how they could let their neighbors be tortured by that. Jeez, how inconsiderate and obnoxious.

That happened on a Monday (well, except the dream). In fact, it all started a week before but thankfully, it was a time for me to get up and go to work but that Monday after it all began was a total nightmare. I needed a good sleep after I got dizzy from work and since it took me a couple of hours to finally doze off, imagine how the room exploded with fury when I heard my dear neighbor started to turn on his ever loving videoke machine, singing his favorite Delilah song again (twice), waking me up in a field of dancing stars. Motivated with my rage, I opened the window in my room and yelled (they couldn't hear me if I talk softly) to turn the volume of their effing videoke machine down. I glared at them, the 3 stupid guys, with their round beer bellies joyfully bouncing and faces that looked like a cross between a goat's ass and manure.

After I told them to turn the volume down, they just stared, completely clueless looking dumb as if they haven't done anything for the last 40 years of their lives. I don't know at that time if they are total retards or what but I have to explain to them the way that you explain to a 3-year-old kid to lower the volume of their stupid videoke machine because it's disturbing to the neighbors, especially to me because I needed to rest, and no one is happy to hear some swines singing. They asked for me to just give them this chance to enjoy because it's a Sunday. Sunday, huh? These good for nothing fat geezers don't even know what day it is. It was a one fat Monday and they didn't know. I guess they don't have jobs other than to sing and drink on a Monday. I wonder how hard their wives and children work just to give them money for booze and the time of their lives.

They finally lowered the volume down after I didn't quit badgering them and before I could pick my cat's poo to throw at them. All the time and strength that was wasted. Grr..

That wasn't the last time that my neighbor had expressed his passion to sing for everyone to hear but luckily for me (or them), I wasn't home. My poor peanut, yuki, and killer were the ones who suffered at those times but before I could destroy my neighbor's dream, his videoke machine strangely disappeared.

What's more unfortunate is that there are more and more neighbors who satisfied their envy and bought their own videoke system. They're like mushrooms sprouting out in a sudden. Gawsh, there was one on the other side of the street who displayed their videoke system outside and countless desperate duck- and pig- voiced monkeys who cannot pronounce one english or tagalog word correctly had sung nonstop (read: non-stop) for 2 days and one night. Good thing they are not so near for their disturbance to penetrate the walls of my room. They've stopped after that, don't know where their videoke machine had gone (probably sold it). As far as I know, there are 6 different houses in my neighborhood that have (or had) videoke machines to this date.

But I've had it, I can't live with this kind of neighborhood. If looks could only kill all the noisy neighbors would perish. My mom is the one who got worried because my neighbors might fry me and make me their food to match the beer.

The world would be a more hellish place if every block is infested by loud, inconsiderate, self-centered, off-tuned videoke machine singers. If they could only realize the there's a button to adjust the volume of the speakers and that they could create their mini-concert hall INSIDE their houses without maxing out the volume, this would be a better world. I don't know if it's lack of education or etiquette is the reason why there are people like this, or the fact that most of them live in the squatters area, or just plain ignorance.

Friday, December 19, 2008

Diary of a Cat

Day 983 of my captivity. My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a ‘good little hunter’ I am. They continue to pick me up and handle me, an obvious attempt to subvert me.

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices to night. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of ‘allergies.’ I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow — but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released — and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

Tonight I will again lay on their heads while they sleep and hope to smother them.

Got this from

Diary of a Dog

Reminds me of someone where anything that someone eats is that someone's favorite. ;)

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!

10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!t

12:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!

1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM - Ran back and forth in the hall! My favorite thing!
5:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 PM - Got to play tug! My favorite thing!
8:00PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!

found this on the site

Friday, September 19, 2008

Do You Hate Your Job?

Do You Hate Your Job?

When you have an “I Hate My Job” day, try this:

On your way home from work, stop at your pharmacy and go to the thermometer section and purchase a rectal thermometer made by Johnson and Johnson. Be very sure you get this brand.

When you get home :

Lock your doors
Draw the curtains
Disconnect the phone so you will not be disturbed.
Change into very comfortable pajamas and sit in your favorite chair.
Carefully open the package and remove the thermometer.
Now, carefully place it on a table or a surface so that it will not become chipped or broken.

Now the fun part begins:

Take out the literature and read it carefully.
You will notice, in small print , there is a statement.

“Every rectal thermometer made by Johnson & Johnson is personally tested.”

Now, close your eyes and repeat out loud five times:
“I am so thankful that I do not work for quality control at Johnson and Johnson.”


Posted using ShareThis

Asking The Right Question

Asking The Right Question

Jack and Max are walking from religious service. Jack wonders whether it would be all right to smoke while praying.

Max replies, “Why don’t you ask the Priest?”

So Jack goes up to the Priest and asks, “Father, may I smoke while I pray?”

The Priest replies, “No, my son, you may not! That’s utter disrespect to our religion.”

Jack goes back to his friend and tells him what the good Priest told him.

Max says, “I’m not surprised. You asked the wrong question. Let me try.”

And so Max goes up to the Priest and asks, “Father, may I pray while I smoke?”

To which the Priest eagerly replies, “By all means, my son. By all means. You can always pray whenever you want to.”

Moral of the story is… the reply you get depends on the question you ask.

For example, if you want a vacation when still working on a project don’t ask for the holiday;
ask: “Can I keep working on this project while I’m on vacation?


Posted using ShareThis

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Sleepiest Creature on not me???

Just when I thought that no other being in this world could top me for being the sleepiest, I came upon a site stating that the sleepiest animal in the world is the koala bear, sleeping for about 22 hours a day. I remembered sleeping for more than half a day when I was still living back in my hometown, but couldn't recall the exact duration so I can't tell if how well did I do.

Here are some of the runner-ups as quoted from

"Next is the sloth (20 hours), armadillo and opossum (tied at 19 hours each), lemur (16 hours), then hamster and squirrel (tied at 14 hours each).

How about cats? Though some cats can sleep up to 20 hours a day, the average cat sleeps 13 hours a day. In comparison to koalas, cats are downright energetic!"

If cats are downright energetic, well I am the least energetic of all cats... The most lethargic one. Hmm... Maybe I'm a koala. Or an armadillo. No, wait. What the hell am I?

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Quack! Quack!

Two more hours and fifteen more minutes and I will be off from work... Can't believe that I'd survive with my almost disappearing voice and stuffy nose. I'm quite amused listening to my voice which sounded like a duck's. Haha. There was one time earlier when I almost lost it, could barely talk. Too bad I didn't lose it. Still hasn't studied yet. Good luck to my class later. Weee.


...Gee, I sound like a duck. A duck with a dying voice... and stuffy nose... with a headache.

Gotta study now, mimming... Stop doing crap... Now open your course material and STUDY, you lazy wart!

Friday, April 11, 2008

Heat Stroke and Frostbite

Is heat more dangerous than cold? That is a question that has been stuck inside the curious part of my brain for quite some time now. However, I don't think I care for the answer anymore because I'm pretty sure I will die of both. Just imagine grilled cat belly, frozen steamed crisp mimming skin, popsicle fingers and toes... Yum.

As I step out of the office of a refrigerator at 6 am, the sun is just done performing its dramatic sunrise and is already glaring with a smug smile trying to say, "Ooooh yeaaah! Now burn, you puny wretched children of Earth! Burn!" My room reminds me of a crematorium furnace and its door is as fancy as the portal to Satan's hell. I know I need to get an AC but I have been planning it for years to no avail. Why? The equation is simple: Me + Intsik = Kuripot or Me2 = Tamad.

Being a day sleeper, I usually end up salted and broiled, not rare but well-done. As that roguish sun bids its daily teary-eyed farewell, the temperature would slowly drop. My siomai body and soul would slowly cool down, making me drowsier and wearier. Sleep, ah... Finally. But what a pribbling lily-liver of all luck, my alarm suddenly goes off screaming, "get up, idiot!" and won't stop until I would shove myself out of bed with the master of all headaches clinging in my head and a dash of vertigo as a garnish.

9:00 pm. Just in time for work. Hey, it's still not late! The moment I reached my cube, cold air slaps my soggy face automatically like a bad habit. My back is facing the giant air conditioner blowing fresh Arctic air. I usually ask the people in charge with the AC to turn it off or increase the temperature but I think they're enjoying the frigidness because it seemed that the place got colder instead. It's a miracle that my stiff fingers didn't break when I slapped them on the table. Teeth chattering (yup, no kidding) and frozen migrained head are now the normal things to have.

What will ever happen to a living thing that has been alternately exposed to extreme heat and cold? It would wilt, I guess... And would suffer from a case of allergy because that is what I actually got in addition to my frozen cooked being. Boiled then exposed to cryogenics. I wonder if this is the reason why I'm going nuts.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008


Got this from Lalay's blog...Just a repost. Geez, I'm posting this entry but I don't think anyone could read this, I didn't let other friends know about this blog site of mine(except for a couple of sneaky ninjas)... well, anyway, if ever you came upon my blog, please do support this Pleacast.

a cry to save the place they call home by a friend and people of Hatteras and Ocracoke
please take your time to visit their site and send your "Pleacast"

supporters and volunteers are welcome

Contact person - Michael Lancsek
Cape Hatteras Seashore Protection Association:

for in depth coverage of this issue go to ISLAND FREE PRESS

Repost, spread the word, and make a difference.

---------------- -----------------

"PleaCast" Preserve & Save Hatteras - Ocracoke Island



March 22 Rally 9-10AM - Cape Point, Buxton

Rally Info! Call: Rob Alderman (Hatteras Fishing Militia) +12523052017

March 27th at 6:30 PM meeting at the Fessenden Center in Buxton - Make a Donation


KEEP ACCESSES OPEN TO ALL: This is "PleaCast" for all supporters who want to keep the beach accesses open for all to enjoy. Submitting this plea will not only go to the Cape Hatteras Seashore Protection Association, but also to the groups who have filed the lawsuits to restrict beach access, along with many others who are already negotiating to resolve this issue. Preserve our economy, community, & recreational resources). SEND A "PleaCast"

In Fall of 2007, National Audubon Society, The Defenders of Wildlife and the Southern Environmental Law Center filed suit in Federal District Court against the United States of America to limit or ban access to many of the primary areas of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore, including Oregon Inlet, Cape Point, most of Ocracoke and others. On March 13, 2008 the Dept of Justice declined to contest the lawsuit which will be heard April 4, 2008 in Raleigh NC. This means that the beach access will be effectively closed at that time. This will also have a devastating effect on property values and the economy as a whole.

Remember April 4, 2008 is just around the corner.


Senator Basnight's Letter - 1952 Coastland Times Article - "Save Hatteras" Blog
1952 Coastland Times Article - US Congressman Walter Jones - 1952 Coastland Times Article
Virginia Pilot, Raleigh Chronicle, NC Coast Articles


Contact the Cape Hatteras Seashore Protection Association:

SEND A "PleaCast"


DONATE! Please

Cape Hatteras Anglers

NC Beach Buggy Association

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

The Ew Side of Life

Woke up on the wrong side of the bed earlier. It was three in the afternoon and my room was freaking hot and sweltering as if I'm trapped inside one of the flaming tombs at the sixth circle of hell. I felt like I'm a crumpled dumpling with a headache. As soon as I jumped out of bed, I went to the bathroom to take a looong cool bath thinking that it is the only thing to perish the fire inside my head (and body). As I reached the bathroom I thought I could feel ocean paradise but good grief, before I could drown myself with water, one big fat healthy cockroach is staring back at me. Looks like it's a female because she has an egg about to go out of her rear end but still stuck midway. Yaks. I don't know whether I would cry or die at that point because it is ready to fly and I could almost see its eyes looking directly at me. I made a quick exit out of the bathroom then sulked at a corner of my boarding house. Gawd. Am I lucky or what? Just remembered that I created a post last year regarding those spleeny mold-wrap roaches in my multiply blog... Nice.

Taken from my Multiply 'Blag'
July 15 ' 07 6:20 PM

Roaches are definitely one of the most disgusting creatures that ever existed in this world. They have the color of brown dung; they smell like, uhhh, moldy sewage muck (don't ask how I found out); they have horrendous saw-like legs which could make crabs' legs look way sexier; they have antennaes that look like two alive hairs; and they are fond of flying towards you, as if they have nothing else to do with their lives.

You crush them and their icky white insides would secrete from their unsightly little frame and if you could get any luckier, it splatter a few more inches omnidirectionally. Right, eww is the word. Eww.

One evening, as I've reached my place, I saw a couple of roaches mating at my doorstep. Yup, no kidding. Their rumps or something were stuck together as if they're glued. Like witnessing a sappy case of PDA, I wanted to tell them off -to go and hump somewhere else. How I wish. I waited for them to go away so I could enter my room without them crawling upon me but only succeeded to shoo them away when I threw a piece of wood at them. Oh please! Get a room!

Some people might not get it as to why some of us despise these eerie creatures so much. Anyway, despite their adversness, there's one nice thing about them - they're good in curing the worst cases of drowsiness as they give some of us a good rush of adrenaline. The problem is, what I lack is drowsiness, not adrenaline. Sigh, if only they are colored pink.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Caustic Earth-Vexing Migraine and The Exasperated Lemon

What a paunchy ill-witted mother of all luck I had bumped into now. Just when I had the motivation to change the bleak outlook that I have on my so-called occupation, Death would suddenly appear not to take me away but to remind me that nothing could help me feel better but quit. Sheesh. I just looooove this game.

The story is, a thought just suddenly crept in my mind telling me that If I surround yourself with positive people and avoid the negative ones, a positive energy would enter my mind thus shooing the negative aura inside me. Call it cheesy, call it ludicrous, but hey that's what was left in my tottering mind earlier. I bugged the happy-looking people, looked at those who had funny amusing interesting faces, and didn't talk to those who have looks that irritate me. I was up and ready to be "positive". Hmm... Sounds good. However, I was reminded again that that the people that I'm always talking and dealing with have a very strong dumb negative aggravating (whew!) energy flowing out of their system and it wouldn't fail to reach me even if they are staying in Uranus. And no shit, they won't ever stop calling and talking.

I wonder if I still look my age now. Maybe I look like I'm 45 years old or more. Hah!

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

la lang

People are, if anything, more touchy about being thought silly than they are about being thought unjust.
E. B. White

If you command wisely, you'll be obeyed cheerfully.
Thomas Fuller

Take away my people, but leave my factories, and soon grass will grow on the factory floors. Take away my factories, but leave my people, and soon we will have a new and better factory.
Andrew Carnegie

Outstanding leaders go out of their way to boost the self-esteem of their personnel. If people believe in themselves, it's amazing what they can accomplish.
Sam Walton

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

The Agony of Monday

Okay, okay, today's not monday... But boy, I sure do hate freaking mondays. Stumbled upon this comic strip from Hmmm... Reminds me of my favorite enemy - Myself.

**Image may appear like it's too small to see. If you have any common sense, you know how to resolve it. If you call tech support just because you still cannot read what those stupid people in the comic strip say, just prepare to be laughed at.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Saturday, March 1, 2008. 2:00 pm

As I sit here in the classroom waiting for my group's turn to take the practical exam, I was wondering if I could still survive having this kind of life. Just got out of work early this morning, slept for four hours, woke up late for my class, haven't eaten any food for 15 hours, and in an hour I will take an exam that I haven't studied yet. Sitting infront of a computer with lack of rest, my mind is currently switched to a blank state with no interest in reviewing my online materials that should help me with my so-called exam later. I haven't fully realized that I'm already typing what my poor damned mind (or stomach) is thinking. Now, wait, there seems to be a dolt on the next room singing loud enough for the world to hear. If I haven't had that four-hour sleep, he would be in the headlines tonight for being thrown out of the 3rd floor window with a pen stuck to his head.

Back to the topic, I wonder what other things I could do with my life that would make me feel for once that I have some reason to live. I had once loved my job - even when I have to work at the middle of the night where majority of other people are sleeping soundly in the cool night. I loved the people who I was with at that time. I could say that I could take charge of what I was working on before. But now, everything looks like a mess, I'm a mess. I still have my friends but I was plunged right to hell. Hell should be my home, I'm used to a hellish life. I could be satan's boss, I could live with that, but the problem is that it looks like hell is already infested with angels - lots of them. 'Angels' trying to watch your every move and because they are somewhat perfect, everytime I make a mistake or do something that's not in their book of good deeds I would feel like I don't have a right to exist. I am always tempted to shout, "go to hell," but heck, we are already in hell. "Go to heaven" doesn't sound right either.

Oh, goodie... It's my group's turn to take the exam now. Jeez, I hope that these people know how to solve the problem for the test because for sure I can't do anything more than goggle at the devices.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The Wonders of Stupidity

It's pretty amazing how a lot of people who don't even know how to surf the net but would still try to subscribe to an Internet service and get really mad if they cannot connect. What's more amazing is that those people would really love to choose dial-up service and would demand to have more than what they could have.

Like there's this one person who had subscribed to a dial-up Internet connection for quite some time now but still doesn't know how to go to websites, change his homepage on his browser, even spell Mind you, he spelled it as Then he wanted to access his email account. I gave him the URL for the webmail and oh my sweet pajamas, it took him almost 10 minutes to go to the correct site! Miraculously, he was able to access his webmail. Now, he wants to use his outlook for his emails. Ambisyoso!

Another person I spoke to was so furious because she had signed up for the dial-up a week ago and still wasn't able to connect. She already spoke to a lot of people but no one had succeeded to help her with her problem. Fortunately, I was able to connect her dial-up. She was ecstatic!!! Wow. Now, what? Well, here's what - she doesn't know what to do next. She doesn't know how to browse websites, doesn't know what a browser or Internet Explorer is. She's just happy that she got connected. I asked her, "So what do you normally do when you are online? Do you check your email? Do you know" and her answer is, "I don't know. It's my first time to have Internet."

I quit.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Lifetime Dream

I always wished that I could just live in a very tall tower, like that of Rapunzel's, only to be situated in the middle of nowhere surrounded by a thick forest with a cool climate. Inside the tower is a queen-sized bed and a television (a complete home entertainment system would be swell) so I could just watch movies for my entire life. No worries, no crazy people bugging me, no responsibilities... Just watching someone else's tale, sleeping as long as I want, resting... Comfort. Peace...

I could live alone. I could survive being alone, literally alone. Hmmm... Well... A cute, nice hunk would be a nice add-on to my dream place. Anyway, if I would grow tired of him I could just push him through the window.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008


Just when I thought that life is hellish enough something worse would come by. Syit!!!

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Goodbye, Home

My stupid so-called seven-day vacation has come to an end. Seven more hours and I'm off to the airport, once again going back to the harsh world of independence, leaving the place where I felt most comfortable - my home, sweet home. I always hate leaving because it always makes me feel that there's a part of me that I would leave behind, and what I hate most is leaving home. I hate leaving my bed, my room, my house, my family, my city... I will surely miss sleeping (I can only sleep on my own bed, mind you), watching TV 'till all hours and just stretch my legs, using this PC and wasting my time playing Spider Solitaire, all the food that my mother cooks or buys, the super clean potable tap water, the jaw-dropping sales at the malls, everything.

It seemed so shocking that days just go incredibly fast. Is it me or is one hour already equal to sixty seconds and not sixty minutes? Haven't met all of my friends in this short period of time (waaah... haven't seen Lalay. mishu, Lay). I even brought my book thinking that I could finally open it here and finally study but I haven't even touched it. I haven't even drank a single drop of my favorite RH!!!

I just remembered, I haven't packed yet. My things are still all over my room. I guess I'll do it in the morning. Time check: it is exactly 2 am; Departure: 11:40 am (not sure if it's correct); "Go" to the airport: 9 am; Therefore, I'll pack at 8 am. Good. I got it scheduled now.

Thinking about the things that I'm leaving behind makes me ask myself if it is all worth it. Apart from the material things, I would surely miss my mama and my bro. Oh boy, I'm about to cry. I'm already crying and I'm about to bawl. Another thing is I dread going back to work, to go back to the job of being plastic - they call it "customer service" - and have a nagging old hawk watch your every move and give out shitty pesters. To hell with that. Hmm... Maybe that's to tell me to leave the job, but that means leaving my friends there. Shit. I'm in a catch-22 again.

Oh well. I guess there are good things in returning to that place of independence. I could go out or go home late. I could do anything I want, that is if I could afford it. That's it. Wow, the price I have to pay just to have a little bit of freedom. Welcome again to the sleepless nights, to the amazing traffic-causing traffic lights, to the pollution, to the people who spit everywhere... Syit, man. Syit!