Cats That Look Like Hitler

**I'm doing this because I think cats are adorable little shits. And that's just about it. Hail cats!












This post was inspired by dslreports.com

I Found Out I Have a Fan

**You'll be amazed at the things you find out if you just take the time. To Google yourself. Celebrate self indulgence. Celebrate yourself. Because, and trust me on this, no one else will bother.

I've been blogging since twenty oh four, and really, I was never thoroughly impressed with my, shall I say, influence until I chanced upon this mighty truck of a blog.

Kulangot sa Pader (Translation: Snot on the Wall)

There goes the link of this one blogger who claims I, of all people and of all verbs, inspired him to follow suit. I don't take too kindly to compliments, they make me shrivel like your testicles in December, but I take them as they are, and I revel in their content. I don't care if he has but one post in his blog's longevity; his blog should have feet on account of it kicks so much ass.

See, I've been doing this for quite some time now, and I don't mean to brag. Verily, there's nothing to brag about, save for this enduring accomplishment that keeps on racking in the hits regardless of the absentee effort with which I'm doing my updates. I mean, I never did went down and wrote a full length "I-Haven't-Been-Updating-Much-Post," because I'm really not a big fan of excuses. I'm just too distracted to post, is all, and that's just about the long and short of it.

Six years of blogging is quite a testimonial. And this blog bore witness to an amazing circus of regulars and passers by. I've had lovers, I've had fans, I've had detractors. But I've never been an inspiration until today. Well, the post was dated August 2006, but that don't mean shit, really.

Truly, Facebook Brings Out the Attention Whore in Each of Us.

**Or "No thanks, I Will NOT Become a Fan"

I am alarmed. I've been receiving quite a few invites from people in my Facebook network asking me to be their Fan. Of course I didn't comply; I'm too self-absorbed myself to be an accomplice to anybody else's self-indulgent efforts. It just so happened that I don't have enough conceit to ask them to be My Fan. Or maybe I didn't have the proper timing to ask them first. But who knew there's THAT much ego to be had in that specific networking site?!

Here are screen shots. Exhibit A has His name on the left and right shades. Same thing goes with Exhibit B. What it says, really, is that He wants me to be fan of Him. And the only changes I made to these screen shots are with hiding those names. The shameless self promotion is still there.

Imagine that, people Asking you to be their Fan. Say that in real life, and see how the weirdness rolls in your tongue. Isn't it Amazing how it is only in Facebook where you get proposals like "Do you want to become my Fan?" Because you will Never hear things like that in real life. And by "real," I mean Offline.

I say this with my whole sympathetic heart, and I hope to high heavens that the message goes across. I do apologize for the inconvenience my friends, but you guys are, seriously, fucking the wrong hole. I, for one, will not be a Fan. Because standards are relative.

If I wanted to be a Fan, I would be more than happy to volunteer for the membership. I'd be more than willing to do pro bono work for the sake of your cause. I'll even take a shower for the hazing session because I want to make sure your hooked paddle hits fresh and newly moisturized skin. I'll install an altar with all your pictures on it, and maybe, if I got lucky, a pair of your used boxer shorts to make the You experience all the more realistic. I'll declare your birthday a Call-In-Sick day, so I can Google your name and spend all day marveling at all those other blogs paying homage to your greatness. I will make a disgraceful understatement of the phrase "embarrassing idol worship." I WILL make the effort, thank you so much, because I WILL BE your groupie. I WILL BE your happy groupie, so sit back and let me cock your suck while my underlings give you a massage and feed you grapes and shit.

What makes it funny is that the people who are asking me to be their Fan (curious phrase, that) are nowhere near the status of half baked celebrities that I am already subscribed to. They're just regular people (and I do mean you) who thought what little claim to fame they have warrants actual fans. I do have semi-celebrities in my list, mind you. And what celebrities I have in my network are there because I am a Fan of these media personalities. And of abstract things I have in common with certain other minorities.

Now, will anyone setup a Fan Page for this idea? I'm sure the membership will rise to unprecedented heights on account of there are a lot of similarly appalled people out there:

Maybe I'll start this group, and then I'll ask you guys if you want to be a Fan.

what the fuck, What the Fuck, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SAYING ANDREW E?

**I ain't no grammatical great myself, but at least kids aren't reading me. And the TV's turned ALL THE WAY up when I was doing my research because I wanted no room for mistakes.

He was once this celebrity judge in a local talent show, and he's more popular now, at least in my book, because he gave ass kissing a most unprecedented low. He was a celebrity because he's the poor man's MC Hammer, the local champion of dirty hip hop (and by dirty, I mean unwashed), and he reached celebrity status because he rapped his wet dreams. I grew up listening to these songs. Poor fucking me.

So he's this celebrity judge in a local talent show, and how it goes is that them judges are subject to "eviction." Text and audience votes are tallied at the end of the week, and anybody with more than 25% of the votes will be evicted. So what Mr. E does (E for Espiritu, the dude has his own Wikipedia page, believe it or not) is that he does everything in his Hiphop Powers to flatter flattery to such flattering flats. His comments are nothing more than generic pats on the back, and his ten-week tenure as a guest judge meant that his brown nosing paid off. In a major way.

It can be argued that he knows what he's doing, but he's such a goddam phony about it. He's not much of a judge as he is a kiss ass businessman; he's making easy money out of flattering people, and he knows its an easy job. Plus, airtime Is airtime, bad publicity is still publicity; he just needs to stay there to flatter some more, because the more he flatters, the longer he stays.

He remained a judge for ten weeks. He was actually inducted to the Showtime Judges Hall of Fame. They actually Have a Hall of Fame! It's right there in their Wikipedia page. They actually Have a Wikipedia page! I don't mind that; the show's fantastic.

Now the trouble I'm having with Andrew E as a guest judge in such a widely received show is that his comments are stupid grammatical piles of shit. Really, impressionable people are watching this show, and Mr E is spearheading their miseducation with his rotten English, I should know, I did my research, and here's a fine sampling of Mr. E's erroneous ways:

1. "Very one in unison" (how's that for redundant)
2. "Pinaka-okay sa akin yung 'Alzheimer's Effect' ni kuya." (Translation: "I think his 'Alzheimer's Effect' is way okay!" And he was referring to some elbow trick by this Cebuano dancer, but Alzheimer's Effect? This shit is so unhinged, I couldn't make this up myself.)
3. "Mind everybody when I say this." (This was before he made his comment. What's with minding everybody?)
4. "Nabilang ko na apat na beses nagpalakpakan yung mga tao kanina. Palakpakan naman diyan!" (Translation: "I counted, and the audience clapped their hands four times earlier. Clap your hands everybody!" They're probably tired already.)
5. "May I say, and I do say, you're a hard act to follow!" (So which is it?)
6. "Sino ang gimmick master niyo?" (Translation: "Who's your gimmick master?")
7. "Ilang taon siya? Fourteen? It's not her time and yet naisayaw niya ng maayos." (Translation: "How old is she? Fourteen? It's not her time and yet she was able to dance that well.")
8. "Pulidong pulido ang costume at ang design ay parang sa aboriginals." (Translation: "The costume's so fine, and the design is so aboriginal." He was referring to a zebra-print leotard.)
9. "You are a very very total creation." (Something's very very amiss.)
10. "Effect na effect ang energy ninyo." (Translation: "Your energy is very much in effect?" Help.)
11. "In all due fairness..."
12. "Your dance moves are, shall I say, split to the second."
13. "Your animosity is too high!" (When asked to define animosity, he says its something about facial expressions. Are they too high?"

More Hate! Or Updating the Hate List Part Two

**You'd think I have a story to tell by the way numbers 50 and 51 are highlighted.

46. Imagined life lessons from the mouths of sheltered little boys and girls who talk wise about shit like they're the next big Maya Angelou or something. Stop cluttering my Facebook Page with what second hand senseless shit you picked up from your similarly clueless friends. Listen here, kid, move out of your parents' house, start supporting yourself, and then tell me about it.

47. People who just can't move on. He doesn't love you no more, and he couldn't have made it any more distinct when he gave you the finger two years back. And you're still depressed over the same thing?

48. Tagalized songs. I know we're a mostly smiling race, in our own funny third world way that is, but seriously people. Shut the fuck up already, will you?

49. Cab and tricycle drivers who overcharge AND THEN have the balls to tell you that you should be aware of such overnight fare increases in the first place. And then you find out the next day, to your chagrin, that nobody approved of these increases to begin with.

50. Fixers who wasted no time in hypnotizing your full payment out of you to have that passport renewed. These are the same cheating motherfuckers who took their time in processing your passport. And that's if you were lucky enough to have any such transactions occur in the first place. Oh I so hate this now with the white-hot loathing that uncharacteristically gullible people reserve for two-bit scammers.

51. Mysterious turns in the business processes. Like when the business office suddenly closed shop on the same day they scheduled you for your personal appearance.

In the mood for More Hate?
1. My Hate List
2. Updating the Hate List

Little Fag Hags

I was having a cigarette this one afternoon. And there was this little neighborhood kid, her face in between our iron fence bars. She's this girl around five, perhaps, who was trying to strike a conversation in the way most daring, inquisitive kids her age are inclined to. She was like, "Kuya, sawayin mo nga itong si, si, si boy (and then she covered what was a forgetful smile with her left hand) kasi akyat siya ng akyat dito oh! (Hi, can you tell this little boy to stop climbing your gates please?)" She was pointing at our green iron fence which was about seven foot high. And then I told her, " Huwag kayong umakyat diyan, mataas yan, baka mahulog kayo (Don't climb up that gate, that's too high for you kids!)" in a calm voice that's appropriate for reprimanding kids her age.

And then the boy, her daredevil playmate, joined in on the conversation with a very intelligent observation. "Bakla! (Faggot!)," the little sonofabitch said in a half-scream that would drive closet queens my age crazy with helplessness. I knew better, so I kept smoking.

At that very moment, the little girl shouted in protest, "Hoy! Hindi siya bakla! (Hey! He isn't a faggot!)" towards her daredevil playmate who was already a good distance away at this point. She then turned to me and continued with her unbroken attempt at small talk. She said, "Hindi ka naman bakla, diba? (You aren't queer, right?)" while moving her hands up and down the iron fence flanking her cheeks. I smiled at her and said, "Huwag mo paglaruan yang gate, marumi yan. (Stop doing that, those gates are dirty.)"

Unfazed, she responded with a playful "Di naman ako umaakyat sa gate eh! (I'm not climbing up your gates!)" And then she looked at her hands and wiped them briskly on her shirt. "Ay oo nga, marumi nga! (You're right, it is dirty!)" I finished my cigarette, went inside, and thought to myself. That little kid is going to be a fine fag hag someday.

Her daredevil playmate, on the other hand, will be the agony of any given closet queen.

Now here's a really related post
Little Girl, What Makes You So Nice?

Of Fixers and HIV

**There are things that make your problems less worthwhile.

This sweet talking fixer raised hell for me this morning when I went to have my passport renewed. It's a long story, and I won't tell much about it because I probably won't hear the end of it. So I won't. But it was goddam hell in Pasay City that day; the paper work and the commute, well, those are fun compared to what I'm actually furious about. And to think those were what kept me from having my passport renewed in the first place.

Motherfucking third world negro actually got me to pay P1,700 for his travel agency's services, when it would only cost me P1200 to have it processed by the goddamn government. And these two offices are just a few feet away from each other. So you'd understand how my shit boils with this recollection, and my fingers are suddenly sore from all this enraged typing. That's how angry I am, you know.

And then I went to my sister's to tell them about it.

She, however, had a fresh story of her own. She then went ahead to tell me of this one friend, a 27-year old gay guy, who was just recently diagnosed of having full blown AIDS. His tuberculosis, they thought they cured that, came back with a vengeance and it evolved into pneumonia. And it was the kind of pneumonia that's associated with HIV positive people. And he has that kind of pneumonia because he is HIV positive. But that was two weeks back; it has blown to such inoperable proportions since then.

My problems almost went away after she told me that. In retrospect, I have no real reason to bitch fit about such regular things as scam artists when people my age are dying elsewhere. Their lives are suddenly so truncated to a screeching halt that they may not have time to get themselves scammed.