You vs. Zombies

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To be human is to struggle. Life is full of zombies trying to eat your brains.

Ladies who leave their filth in the bathroom when there is clearly a trashcan a couple of feet away.
Me: @#$%

The person who plays the entire repertoire of The Steps at full blast.
Me: Can you please turn it down a little?
Her: Go to hell.
Me: I'm already there, sweetheart. And I don't know what I could have done in this life to deserve such punishment.

The pervert sitting beside me in a packed jeepney, trying to cope a feel of my backside.
If I had daggers in my eyes, I would have stared his peter to amputation.

The devil behind wheels who almost run me over while crossing the pedestrian lane.
Me: @#$%

The client who doesn't know what's good for her.
I'm not a fan of wasting my time on the phone trying to explain my point. With stupid people, there is no winning an argument.

The pig who makes sick, sexist jokes.
Me: You are obviously not getting laid or you would have kept your mouth shut.

Pompous politicians.
Me: Where's an assassin when you need one?

The person who cuts in front of me on the queue.
Me: Ahem, excuse me.
Person who cuts in oblivious to my hair standing at the ends.
Person behind me: Just excuse him, miss. He's old. Let him be.
Me: Look, man, I'm not a rude person. If he had asked me nicely if he could cut in front of me, I would have willingly oblige. But an old person without manners. Is that supposed to be comforting?
(But like I said, there is no winning an argument with a stupid person.)

The street kid who threatens passers by if they don't give money.
Kid (Holds on to my shirt and refuses to let go): Give me five pesos.
Me: Let go of my shirt.
Kid: Not unless you give me five pesos.
Me (steam coming out of my ears): Do you think I'm scared of you. Do you want me to beat the living crap out of your puny form?
Kid: Never mind. (Lets go and scrams.)

Obnoxious sales ladies.
Me (Pointing at the dress displayed way above my reach): Can you please get that for me? I want to try it on.
Lady (Folds her arms across her chest and looks at me): That's too big for you.
Me (Walks away. I'm sorry. I do not want to be yelling at people to do their jobs.)

Stupid people in general.
Me: Oh shit, I'm outnumbered.

The world is full of zombies eating at the pea-shooters in your yard. Load your guns and aim for the head.

Song of the Moment: Wag Kang Matakot

Wag kang matakot
Dahil ang buhay moy walang katapusan...
...Ikaw ang dyosa't hari nang iyong mundo
Matakot sila sa 'yo...

How true, how true. This one is a song for the deities and this goes out to all the ladies out there who are goddesses in their own right.

Thank you, Eraserheads, for encapsulating in those few lines the force majeure that is a woman. If Ely B. were a woman, this song would have been perfect but we can't have everything.

However, this song does send a message. Guys, be scared. Be very scared.

It Always Rains On My Parade

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The rain and I have a love-hate relationship. It loves me. I hate it. I am perfectly aware that there are numerous benefits that we get from the rain and life as we know it in this planet would not have been possible without it. But that doesn't change the way I feel about the rain. I don't like it. It's wet. It brings flood. It overflows the pathetic excuse for a drainage system in Cebu City and makes disease-causing filth flood the streets. Did you know that a person has a better chance of being hit by a lightning than winning a lottery jackpot? Not cool. How about getting drenched in the rain on your way to work or an important appointment? Not glamorous. At all. Unless you are Mariah Carey singing Through the Rain.

I was born in summer. I'm dark-skinned. Unlike every other Filipino women (and men) I know, I am not afraid of constant or over exposure to the sun. I am not afraid of getting sunburned. I am already burnt. There is nothing more that the sun could do to me that would bring about distress and hoarding of whitening products. I flourish under the sun. I love the sun. I worship the sun. Even if it is scorching outside, I would never bring an umbrella, another contraption I hate with a passion. Which is why I hate the rain even more. Try going somewhere in the rain without an umbrella. I cannot count how many umbrellas I have lost when I was still going to school. It distressed my mother that I had not the slightest inclination to protect myself from the constant ridicule of schoolyard bullies. So what if they call me 'Negra'? They can all froth at the mouth from calling me names but there is no way in hell I'm bringing an umbrella.

It is true when they say that when it rains, it really pours. In the Philippines, it pours a lot. And true to nuisance fashion, it always comes in the most inopportune times. Like when I'm wearing a dress and killer heels on my way to an important appointment and I find that my hair is in sudden need of of blow drying. Or when I'm supposed to play tennis but the court is submerged in rainwater and can be used for swimming. Or when I'm going to meet friends and suddenly the outfit I had previously picked out is no longer appropriate because of the weather. Or on my way to the office when I have a deadline and I get stuck at the other side of the street. Or when I need to run an errand but can't because I have no stinking umbrella. On a side note, did you notice that in the Book of Revelations, the apocalypse is signaled by raining something? Stones, fire, ice, scorpions, frogs, cats, dogs...

And what about the aftermath? Flood water and more flood water. Filth, filth and more filth. Mud, mud and even more mud. Everything is wet and unlike the images that poetry would have you believe, it is not beautiful. It is wet in a depressing and unattractive sort of way. This list could go on. What can I say? When you really hate something, you will not find any redeeming quality in it. Give me something you like about the rain and I will turn it into something awful.

In hindsight, I don't think I will be able to appreciate a sunny day as much if I don't hate the rain. There is always a yin to every yang. Maintaining a cosmic balance is such a pain in the posterior.

My Imaginary Conversation With a Non-Entity

My profuse apologies to the loyal readers of my blog which has now reached a count of 4 people. I know that you needed your goddess fix 3 times a week but I have not been updating for reasons I'm gonna explain below. Just this weekend, I was plagued with the most mortal of conundrums.

I got sick.

I don't get sick a lot. Germs would be lucky if they get into my system twice a year. But when I do get sick it's a big deal because germs come in full force. I get fever, chills, diarrhea, vomiting, the works, all in one setting. If disease were a festival, mine would be the Carnival at Rio. However, I am not the type of person who lets microscopic life forms get in the way of life. When I woke up on Saturday, my stomach felt funny but I went on with my tennis lessons anyway. It got progressively worse that by lunch time, even if I was really hungry, I couldn't eat anything because I felt like throwing up. I went home and had a major case of diarrhea. I took some medication then I slept and woke up at 3pm because I was going to have a coffee date with Janica. But I suddenly realized that I was running a fever and my stomach upset worsened. The more sensible of you might say stay in bed and get some more rest. You must understand, I do not see this person a lot. So when we set a date, it's written in stone. I just had to go. So I got up, vomit my intestines out and went. It's funny how vomiting can help you feel better because when I met Janica at the mall, there was no indication of the civil war being waged inside my body.

We blew our cash on overpriced coffee and stared out at the newly-opened hotel building across the street. I had the best toffee-chocolate cake ever. Then we stared out at the new hotel some more. But I left the mall feeling like I just had the most interesting conversation ever. Friendship is a funny thing.

photo courtesy: Janica

Her (taken with my phone's cam)

When I got back to the dorm at around 7pm, I was sick again. I took my meds and slept. After another 2 hours, I woke up and threw up. My vomit tasted of the cake that I had earlier that I was tempted to swallow it back up. I remembered that I had not eaten anything the whole day except for the cake which now lies in that black hole where crap goes after they are flushed out of the john. So I ate a little then I asked my cousin to rub my back which was aching like it's going to burst open.

I tried to have a conversation with my tormentors.
Me (channeling Gollum): Leave now and never come back! Leave now and never come back!
Germs: Sorry, vacation's not yet over.
Me (threatening mode): If you don't leave, I'll make sure that you are coming with me to the grave.
Germs: Nyahahahaha. Are we supposed to be scared now?

Damn parasite! They are not getting out without a fight. But I still wanted to give it another shot.

Me(bargaining mode): If you leave now and torture somebody else, I'll stop taking the meds, thereby increasing your chances of actually getting out of my body alive. I'll go back to being healthy and you can go on being a parasite. Everyone happy except the next host.

I fell asleep before the germ could formulate a witty reply. I woke up on Sunday still feeling feverish. Apparently, the germs are a slow bunch and have not yet made up their minds whether to accept my generous offer. Or maybe I'm the one who was dense and didn't get that the unwelcome tenants had rejected my offer. Be that as it may, I made sure the the delay or rejection on their part would cost them dearly. I took more meds. Die, you filthy animals! Die!

I went to my tennis lessons again but this time I made sure not to over exert myself. Like I said, I am not the type of person to let disease get in the way. I would never let them germs have that kind of power. Besides, no one in their deathbed ever said that they wish they had taken more bed rest.

To be human is to suffer and to deal with life forms which are so useless they can only survive by living off of other life forms. As if dealing with everyday life is not enough of a challenge, you have to fight creatures which you cannot see. What are our chances of winning?

Mortality, "thou art a heartless bitch".

Tales From the Creep

If you are familiar with the show from the 80's (Tales from the Crypt), then you will know that this is a horror story. Or in this case, a series of horror stories based on actual events.

Story 1
(Unknown person called. Girl picked up.)
Unknown person (guy): I love you.
Girl: Who is this?
(Guy hung up the phone but proceeded to repeat this procedure 5 times a day. Girl soon got tired of this so she did some research and found out who the caller was. So the next time the phone rang...)
Guy: I love you.
Girl: Classmate, I know who you are.
Guy: Ahh...Uhmmm... Sorry, wrong number.

Story 2
(Guy chatted up Girl.)
Guy: What are you doing?
Girl: I'm working.
Guy: Please turn on your webcam.
Girl: I can't. I'm working.
Guy: I want to see you.
Girl: You'll see me when you get to work tomorrow.
Guy: I want to see what you are wearing.
Girl: My work clothes. Geesh, you're like Norman Bates.
Guy: Who is Norman Bates?
Girl: That's you, sicko.

Story 3
(Guy chatted up Girl.)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
Girl: I'm okay.
Guy: Please use your webcam.
Girl: I can't. I'm at work.
Guy: Please. Just use your webcam.
Girl: I'm sorry but I really can't.
Guy: You know me. If I don't get what I want, I'll get angry and I'll bang this keyboard on my desk.
(Like I care? Offline mode.)

Story 4
Guy: Can I have your number?
(Girl doesn't know how to say no to requests like these, so she gave him the number. The next day, Guy texted Girl.)
Guy: Hi, how are you?
(Girl saw this as a chance to let Guy down without confrontation.)
Girl: I'm okay. But please don't text me, my boyfriend will not like it.
Guy: Okay. Let's go to church later.
(Huh?)
Girl: I will but I'm going with my boyfriend.
Guy: Why do you always have to be with him? He's already your boyfriend.
(That's a good question but I have a better one: If I'm not gonna be with him, then who should I be with? You? Don't think so. Remove from contacts.)

Story 5
Guy: Let's go out on a date.
Girl: Excuse me, you have a girlfriend.
Guy: Do you want me to break up with her? Because I will if you ask me to...
(Uhmmm.... Is that supposed to make me feel special?)

Story 6
(Guy posted on Girl's Facebook wall.)
Guy: Your smile is nice.
(Obviously, Guy has not seen Girl's awful teeth. But a compliment is a compliment.)
Girl: Thanks.
Guy: You're beautiful, baby.
(Ewwww. Remove post.)

Creeps of the world abound. Most of them men. I really only know two creepy women. One is me and the other is a housekeeper we had a long time ago. Somebody told me that creepiness is contagious. If you are exposed to it for prolonged periods, you will assimilate creep. But then again, there is a creep gene in every single one of us. It comes out especially at times when the current object of our obsession is unaware of our existence. And that's fine. But if you see a full-pledge creep heading your way, run screaming to the opposite direction. We can only hope that, for recognition purposes, they are wearing a name tag.

The Crypt keeper, creepy but genius. (photo credit)

Venus Rules

During my teenage years, the concept battle of the sexes was very rampant. Almost every discussion would always lead to a girls-versus-boys thing. Now that I’m an adult, I realized how inaccurate that concept was. There is no such thing as men versus women because aside from the fact that there is “too much fraternizing with the enemy” (Jessica Zafra) going on, men are not evolved enough to be on the same level as women. In boxing, you cannot fight someone who is not from the same division as you are. Men are not only not on the same weight division so to speak, they are not even in the pros.

Here’s a newsflash (I’m not gonna hold back so here goes…): most men are stupid. It’s a fact that almost every woman knows. What’s funny is that, even with this knowledge, women still find that men are essential to live a fairly interesting life. So what does a girl do? She pretends that she is even more stupid than her guy. No, we would not want to hurt their feelings. We have to make them feel like they are in-charge or they’ll feel emasculated.

But let’s be reasonable here. Most guys are probably saying, “WTF! How can you say that?” Because, guys, number one, you walk around with the delusion that you are God’s gift to women. You are not. You were created first. But God saw that you were lonely, wandering all alone in the garden. Oh, poor little boy, so helpless and miserable. So God, who is all-powerful and knowing, created us, which in effect makes us women God’s gift to men. But nooooo, you would never admit to this. You are so full of yourselves that you feel like it’s a sin to be keeping yourselves from other women even if you are already with somebody else. Tsk, bad, bad boys. Number two, you think you are smarter than us. I would not even have to elaborate the obvious. We just let you think that you are smarter because, let’s face it, what fun would you guys be if you go around with a long face, moping and feeling useless? Plus, we have a longer lifespan, have higher EQ’s, can give birth to the next generation, are generally more pleasant to be around… the list goes on. But more importantly, men are easy to read. The moment you show yourselves and utter a single word, we know what you want, even if you go on painstaking lengths to hide your true motives. We know. Women, on the other hand, are deceiving. Because it’s what men want, we make you believe that we are damsels in distress because it feeds your machismo to be thinking that you will save the day. You cannot even prove your worth without having to do something physical.

Poor boys, frothing at the mouth as we speak. I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, to be the one to shatter the rose-colored glass that has blissfully shielded you from the truth. Don’t worry, you are not completely useless. Yet. Just as long as nobody invents a more viable replacement. A dog would have been perfect. Unfortunately, we need it to be able to stand on two legs and lift heavy objects. So don’t lose heart, guys. You will still find countless intelligent women who will laugh at your not funny jokes, show interest at your boring stories and act impressed by your uhmmm… man stuff. It is so hard to find a good source of entertainment nowadays but one has to make do with what is available, another characteristic which makes women better than men. We adapt and we adapt well.

In conclusion, women are superior. If you guys know what’s best for you, don’t piss us off. We are holding your balls in the palm of our hands. You would not want us to crush them into oblivion, would you? What then would the source of your macho pride be? Oh, the tragedy.

Risen From The Fiery Depths

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

Meet Dante. He is my voodoo doll.

I have always wanted one, most especially at times when I wanted to hurt someone without actual confrontation. Call me a coward all you want but that's how it is.

But now that I actually have one, there is not one person that I want to prick needles with. There is always that girl next door. Hmm. But it seems so petty so I won't even waste my energy on that.

Anyway, I got my doll's name from the writer, of course. He is one of my favorites although God knows I'll probably be dead before I get to finish reading any of his works. If I do get around to reading them, I'll probably be the first person in history to die of profuse nosebleeding.

Where was I?

Being a voodoo doll, I had wanted a more menacing name for him. One of the names that came to mind was Charon, the ferryman of the underworld who, coincidentally, also figures in the first book of Dante's Divine Comedy. Unfortunately, although it implies menace, it just doesn't sound right for the very reason that it sounds like a cute girl's name. It sounds like Karen. I knew one Karen from Day Care and another Karen who was my seatmate in elementary. Both girls were cute. On a side note, when I was a kid, my brothers and I used to watch this show entitled The Young Hercules. Apparently, it was very popular because when the show ended it's run, the producers had this dumb idea to do a rerun, this time dubbing the whole show in Tagalog. So there was this scene where Hercules went to the underworld and met Charon for the first time. Their conversation went like this (everything pronounced in Tagalog):

Hercules:  Sino ka namang matanda ka?
Charon: Ako si Charon. Bangkero ng mga kaluluwa sa kabilang mundo.
Hercules: Sharon?
Charon: Hindi!!! Cha-ron! Mukha ba akong artista?!

Admit it, that was hilarious. The ferryman of the underworld, a movie star. Not Sharon Stone, the silently sinister bitch (also a writer) in the movie Basic Instinct, but Sharon Cuneta who, despite her apparent lack of cuteness, sings cutely the song Mr Dreamboy (or was that Mr DJ?) to the detriment of the word cute. So I settled for Dante whose main protagonist he named after himself and in the first book, Inferno, literally went to hell. Morever, Dante is also the name of another movie star. I am referring to Dante Rivero who almost always gets the role of the villain or the grumpy old man who makes everyone around him miserable. And he does look scary.

I actually have another voodoo doll, of a different color from Dante. His name is Montressor, from the vengeful guy who buried his friend alive in his wine cellar in the short story The Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Alan Poe, who is also a personal favorite. However, I have assigned Montressor as a permanent decoration to one of my bags so it's usually just Dante who keeps me company.

My voodoo dolls have yet to serve their real purpose. But make no mistake about it. They are voodoo dolls and their purpose will be fulfilled. Someday. So if you value your life, try to avoid becoming the object of my wicked voodoo spells. Don't annoy the hell out of me and get out of my way.

"Nemo me impune lacessit." (*evil laugh)

The Dark Side of Human Nature

I had a text message conversation with one of my girlfriends that went something like this:

Me: Guess what? Ruby is pregnant and Hector is the father.
Her: I really don't care about them. They're both ugly.
Me: Yeah, me neither. Just thought that you'd like to know. Think about it, they're going to have a spawn who will have the misfortune of taking after their looks. Hahaha.
Her: Yikes! Who needs more commercial models for sour vinegar? Hahaha.

I would have added that they should be executed for bringing bad genes into the world, as if the present gene pool is not contaminated enough. But that would be a bit much.

I do not like dissing other people in public but I'm only human after all and I really hate people who hurt my friends. That is not to say that I am beautiful. But before you say that I am being falsely modest, I am not. I am just less of an eyesore. That being said, I do not wish them ill. If they do end up together and happy, then good for them. But realistically-speaking, the chances of that happening are very slim.

Have a good life, Ruby and Hector.