Friday, October 25, 2013

Two Horror Stories

**I am a big fan of Halloween. So I wrote these.

Horror Story # 1: Your Selfie

There was this ugly gay boy who posted an unedited selfie in Facebook. And this is what it looked like along with the customary quote.

"If you don't want to take my picture, then I'll take it myself! Shit!"

Now, there were several reports that explain why this unedited selfie was even let loose in the first place. His friends say he's the overly vain And overly ugly kind who was as confident as he was unsightly. Our shuddering sources say he asked his closeted gay friends to dare him do it. He was somewhat disappointed that nobody asked him to do it. But he went for it anyway because he thought that unedited selfies will trend.

There were others who insisted that he was half-drunk at the time this abominable crime took place. His reasoning was paralyzed with whatever he was drinking then. Meanwhile, they refuse to admit if Ugly Gay Boy here was drunk with alcohol or if he was drunk with his incredibly intoxicating conceit.

A third theory, and I am serious as I am writing this, came from his very close friends. They say that Ugly Gay Boy was trying to impress an office mate. This could make sense because Ugly Gay Boy here was very conceited, after all.

However, the "Why?" behind this incident is nowhere near as horrifying as the reports that issued from nearby hospitals and lying in clinics. A doctor was, after a few shots of vodka, reported to have said: "We have never... oh my God... In all of my twenty-something years of medical practice, this was the first time that I have diagnosed somebody as having epileptic seizures and violent diarrhea. Combined! I remember they were rushing in three of those poor people every half hour or so. And this continued for the next twenty four hours. Why, they were literally shaking and shitting all over the emergency room! And some of them... oh Lord... some of them had it so bad, they had blood on their feces!"

"You will not believe what our wards looked like, and smelled like, two days after this epidemic began. And you, you poor thing, you will not get that nightmare out of your head. (Tears are running down his face at this point. He sobs. He sighs.) It was like... It was like somebody decided to re-enact The Holocaust in Pasig Cirrehhh!"

Image from Worldwar2-facts

I am finally writing this next paragraph after borrowing the courage from a ream of cigarettes.

I had to mention that there were also similar reports from nearby lying in clinics. This is because the expecting mothers are (makes sign of the cross) a terrible casualty. They decided to conceive, immediately, after suffering from the same epileptic fit slash uncontrolled bowel movement.  Which is, of course, understandable. They'd rather give birth on the spot, than allow ugly gay boy's unedited selfie to linger in their memory. They were expecting, after all, and their haunted memory of ugly gay boy's unedited selfie will have bothering effects on their undeveloped angel.

"And besides," one ex-mother revealed, "my little kid looked better in her second trimester than Ugly Gay Boy will ever be in his twenty something years."

Meanwhile, Ugly Gay Boy refuses to take responsibility for the near-genocide that his unedited selfie caused. He refuses to answer questions and dismisses inquiries, as well as threats to his life, with that "Bitch, please" look on his unsightly face. He is still at large, and is still logging in to Facebook. His account is not yet disabled. He is still ugly.

This may or may not be a true story. Ugly Gay Boy may or may not be gay. And, by the same token, our villain may or may not be a boy. 

Horror Story # 2: What are You Doing, Little Girl?

I will post this next week. Haha.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Bring the Bit Enn!

"Bring the beat in! Someone guest her on Ellen, for the love of God."

This girl should be on Ellen. The truth is, I am positive that Ms Degeneres' good people, as I am writing this, are already setting the gears in motion as far as this singer's US VISA goes. By the way, it is for the benefit of her thousands of instant foreign fans that I am providing the following translations. I feel like it is my duty, as someone versed in the vernacular of the tabo-wielding Filipinos, to... cast away your doubts as far as her lyrics goes. No, she is not speaking hare-lipped Aramaic. It is not demon-speak. She is not possessed. Far from it. Blame it on her accent; our overnight sensation here is too focused on her illustrious singing career to concern herself with such trivial details. Stars like her fuck pronunciation and make up for that glaring defect with... uh... uhh... I mentioned I provided translations.

Bawal lait ah = No insults, please.
Bit enn = Beat in
kamown = come on
windopay = window pane
Bebe = Baby
Naaathing = Nothing
Laaab = Love
Yur tha wahn (unintelligible mumbling) I can always call. = You're the one I can always call.
Putangina oh = Oh son of a bitch (She never cursed here. That was me.)
Forst = First
Neeeeeeheeed = Need
Top, tup, tap, tahp, taap = Top, top, top, top, top.

Oh fuck this unwashed shit. I have been listening to this crap for at least five times now, and it stopped being funny after the first playing. Eat your heart out, reader, and play the goddamn recording already. I would have loved to transcribe this wonderful singer's lyrics, but I don't have the supernatural powers required to do that. However, out of foresight, I have provided the lyrics to another song, Beyonce Knowles' "Love on Top," just because I have noticed a very striking resemblance.

Image from Homorazzi.
Love On Top 

Bring the beat in!

(Verse 1)
Honey, honey
I can see the stars all the way from here
Can't you see the glow on the window pane?
I can feel the sun whenever you're near
Every time you touch me I just melt away

Now everybody asks me why I'm smiling out from ear to ear (They say love hurts)
But I know (It's gonna take a little work)
Nothing's perfect, but it's worth it after fighting through my tears
And finally you put me first

Baby it's you.
You're the one I love.
You're the one I need.
You're the only one I see.

Come on baby it's you.

You're the one that gives your all.
You're the one I can always call.
When I need you make everything stop.
Finally you put my love on top.

Ooh! Come on baby.
You put my love on top, top, top, top, top.
You put my love on top.
Ooh oooh! Come on baby.
You put my love on top, top, top, top, top.
My love on top.
My love on top.

Baby, Baby
I can hear the wind whipping past my face.
As we dance the night away.
Boy your lips taste like a night of champagne.
As I kiss you again, and again, and again and again.

Now everybody asks me why I'm smiling out from ear to ear (They say love hurts)
But I know (It's gonna take a little work)
Nothing's perfect, but it's worth it after fighting through my tears.
And finally you put me first.

(Repeat chorus until you pass out)

Friday, October 11, 2013

How to be Rude: Comments

**This post is also known as How to Bash Tip # 1: Divide and Conquer. 

So we heard recently that a second sex video of Chito Miranda and Neri Naig surfaced. I have never seen it. And I will never watch it. I was tempted to, but I remembered how disappointed I was with Chito's fucking that I decided to just let it be. The first installment wasn't any excitable; Chito Miranda's black-as-sin dick was an awful nightmare, and Neri Naig's pendulous breasts were a felony to the female anatomy. However, I would imagine that some people jerked off to this episode while they played one of his songs in the background for good measure. Whatever. 

I will not write about it. These celebrity sex videos are becoming so fucking tiresome in their frequency. And what makes it irritating is that they're all sex between straight couples. How very bland, how very boring, how very beyond scandalous. What have our gay celebrities been doing? Playing Barbie dolls and doing each other's hair? Cruising at the gym or pandering to the horny whims of your TV-executive benefactors? Get out of your comfort zone, homo. We can use the representation.

I have written about Chito Miranda's first sex video. And you can click here you're interested. 

Meanwhile, the last time I trolled was five or six years ago, and I sort of missed being mean to stupid people and their stupid bitch fits. So I gave it another go sometime back, and, having done that, I don't think I missed being a bully at all. Anyway, allow me to share a screenshot. Sometimes, a series of pictures is far more eloquent. You remember what they say about a picture being worth a thousand words? Yeah? Now think about this: what if... it's a picture... of words? Ahhh. Imagine that many thousands. 

Again, I do not miss being such a jerk towards other people's poorly written sentiments, and I fucking hate being so disrespectful in their borrowed space. It sucks that I have to go out of my way just to be a dick. That is why I have this blog. And being such a cock in other people's territory is a felony towards this blog; why be a dick in other territories when  I can well do it here?

Comments are just one of the many wonderful opportunities for your meanness to shine. Treat yourself to these other tips.

How to be Rude: Books
How to be Rude: Burgers
How to be Rude: Directions

Friday, October 04, 2013

Greatly Appreciated! Thundering Thanks!

**"Thank you" is just two words. I wrote you guys a mouthful, instead. 

Image from

I never, ever, ever, ever, no not ever, ever, ever asked no one to "Please Follow Me!" Last time I checked, which was just about now, I never embellished my side bar with an explicit request for you guys to "What the hell are you waiting for?" Yes, there is a button that says "Join this site," but it was never accompanied with a well-written threat. I Thanked you for the follow, that I did, and I have never edited that because I am still very grateful. However, I never asked any of you sweethearts to do so. You did that out of your own volition and your own free will. I never forced, or threatened, or bribed, or held anyone at knife point, gun point, or cock point (imagine that, "tinutukan ng burat," haha). You followed me. You did that on your own. 

And I can never, ever, ever, ever, no not ever, thank you enough. 

I Said This Before

No one in their right mind should volunteer to follow me. I would never follow me. Not even if I took out my dick as a bribe. "Look at that cock, homo. How's that for size, huh? It's pointing at your laptop where it's master opened some bullshit blog. How's about giving it a look see? Or maybe a follow? There you go baby." 

Image from Sodahead
I know I said this before, but your continued patronage still leaves me simultaneously confused and grateful. Like I said, you know what I write, and how I write, and you know how I like to be obscene, but you kept at it anyway and I don't know why. My posts are spaced a week in between. I cuss a lot. I use long sentences. I write about rape and reassigned vaginas and throwing cats in hampers and breastfeeding in cabs and dead people and stupid things that nobody gives a stupid fuck about. My grammar is usually suspect. I have never received a Blog Award. I have recently disabled my comments. But I still have my followers. And they are growing. Shit, man, what can I say? Thank you guys for being weird. 

What Crazy Bus Got You Here?

I was reviewing my followers the other day, and I know I recognize some of you from my early blog-whoring days. I was shining with optimism then. And that was from seven years ago. I was hungry for a link exchange back in the old days, and I honestly believed it was going to be easy. This, ugh, optimism gave birth to this pathetic appetite for self-promotion; I actually took the unbillable time to check on other blogs on a regular basis. I left comments everywhere because I thought they all would spare me the same courtesy. I wanted to be recognized SO BAD that I went so low as to volunteer a Guest Post. It was, come to think of it, a most embarrassing idea because the currency was shameful: a hundred-word post, at least, for a link exchange. Blah, shudder. 

Image from io9

I left comments everywhere, I linked this blog to my email signature, I offered to guest post, and went so far as to gamble with the quality of my blog roll. There was a time that I saturated my blog roll with the occasional boring blog. But it was all in the spirit of honest optimism. I wanted to be recognized! I was hopeful, and cheerful, and blogged with a skip in my step, and had the enthusiasm of a five-year old girl. I was the height of pathetic social climbing back then. I became my own grave embarrassment. I was seriously out of character back then, and it still disgusts me to this day. Why, I would spit on my grave if I was dead seven years ago. 

All I wanted was a link exchange. But some of you guys followed me, instead. It was like hoping for random anal but getting a bukkake facial instead. I am truly honored. Thank you. Of course, I do not mean to offend any of you good people. I am rather kinky by default, and the gang bang comparison is really a compliment. 

This Includes You, Yes You, and That Weird Nerd Next to You

Image from Survivaltribe.
Meanwhile, I am still unfamiliar with several other names in my 71-strong (and proud) list of followers. Again, my optimism has had several death anniversaries; I no longer whore around for a link exchange. I no longer blog hop. I no longer entertain random link exchanges. I no longer comment back. And the only endorsements my updates get are from any of the following sources: 

  1. Status updates in my Selfie Media of choice. I'm sorry. I meant to say Social Media.
  2. That small handful of bloggers who link me in their smart blog rolls. 
  3. My intermittent presence in Ms Jessica Zafra's blog. My alias, Momelia, is linked to this blog, see. 
  4. The strong odor of burning sulfur And lotion usually signifies this blog has been updated.
  5. Check this blog if you are suddenly getting feverish in the afternoons. And that is coupled by extreme discomfort when you're urinating And there's a distinct pain in your dick. And some discharge. I mean, the pain can't get any more severe, so you might as well, right? And on the off chance that you did pay me a visit if you're having one of those days, then let me share a tip. Branded antibiotics will murder your wallet. Go generic and save yourself a good fifteen pesos a pop. 

What I meant to say is that I don't advertise myself as much as I used to. And having said that, it still suprises me beyond expectation how I am still getting hits and follows from you people. Thank you. And let me be a homo and "thank you for your wonderful" patronage. 

This goes out to you, yes you, and that weird nerd next to you. Thank you. 

This out of sync, however appropriate image is from Leisurecommunities.

I appreciate you all! Muahness from Pasig Cirehhhh!


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