Expert Assesses Cosmo's 10 Hottest Sex Tips

Disclaimer: If you're a nun, a hypocrite, a conservative prick or is not, in any way, comfortable reading adult shit (however funny or informative it may be) you can go ahead and NOT read this. As for me, I found this funny as hell so I'm sharing it all with you guys... or just the girls, actually! It's from The Post Website and it's hilarious as shit, enjoy my sleazy friends!

Pahabol na Arriba ni Lola

The Post has a little fun at Cosmo's expense today, listing ten of the magazine's most common "boundary-pushing moves" and asking a collection of New York men how they feel about the sex tips. Not consulted? Our very own resident "sexpert" My Cock. We ran the list by him and got his reaction.

"Cup his hand against your mouth, and flick your tongue quickly in and out of the center of his palm."
My Cock says: "Uh, excuse me, what the hell is this doing for me? Screw My Hand, it gets a pretty extensive workout already. Come on down to where the action is."

"Seductively lick a dab of food off your lips or finger. He'll imagine what that tongue would feel like on him."
My Cock says: "I'm a cock. I already know what your tongue is gonna feel like on me. Don't waste my time. Also, I don't need to hear you bitching about all the calories you consumed later."

"Make a silly bet to be paid off in sexual favors, or play a board game naked in bed and agree that the loser has to grant the winner one lusty request."
My Cock says: "Or how about this? You blow me, and we leave Monopoly way back in the hall closet where it belongs."

"Chill a bunch of marbles in the fridge. Toss them on the bed and make him lie on them while you straddle him."
My Cock says: "Yeah, nothing gets me hotter while you're doing me than the possibility that an errant cats-eye might wedge its way up My Ass. Next."

"Pre-oral action, pop a mint. You'll both get chills, because menthol triggers the body's cold receptors."
My Cock says: "Sure! Or maybe you could get some Vicks Vap-O-Rub and go to town on my tool. You ever hear a guy yell, 'Oh, yeah, baby, make it sting!'? No? There's a good reason for that."

"Slip a glazed doughnut around his manhood and nibble it off."
My Cock says: "See above as regards calorie complaints. Also, I have a paranoid fear that a bunch of fire ants are going to sense the residual sugar and climb the tower. How am I going to explain those bumps?"

"Take an old strand of fake pearls and other beads and, holding each end, pull it back and forth around the shaft of his manhood."
My Cock says: "Ooh, it's Mardi Gras time in Shaftsburg! Pearls? Really? You want me to look like Laura Bush at a state dinner? You might as well just shove them up my ass. It might help get that marble from our last escapade unstuck."

"Take a sip of hot water - as hot as you can stand - before [performing oral sex] on him. Then, keeping your mouth closed, swish it all around."
My Cock says: "Get the fuck out of here! This is the scariest thing I've ever heard of. What am I, a goddamn lobster? The only vaguely warm thing I ever want to feel on my body is your tongue, and then possibly my splooge. Hey, Balk, there's no way the bossman's gonna let me say splooge, is there? [Depends on how much attention he's paying today. - Ed.] [Actual Ed. Note: You've worn me down, Balk's Cock. Congratulations. Oh, how racy! You said "splooge"! Enjoy. What are we, 12? Is Sarah Silverman here or something? Ya trying to get a job with the slags at Jezebel?] Either way, do not try this at home. Or anywhere."

"Make ice from seltzer, then rub him down with the cubes. The carbonation leaves slushy pockets in the ice, so one minute he'll feel a solid touch from the cube; then next, a snowy clump melting on his skin."
My Cock says: "What the hell is wrong with these people? First you want to scald me to death and then you're going to turn me into some kind of frozen egg cream? Just blow me already! I don't need this Perrier crap."

"When fondling his manhood, slip a hair scrunchy around the base of it. The tight scrunchy combined with your touch creates an amazing sensation."
My Cock says: "Yeah, ease up there, Vidal Sassoon. A woman I knew once tried this with a rubber band. Guess what? The results were unpleasant. Plus I felt like a character in a David Lynch movie. Look, ladies, it's easy: Mouth me. I'm a simple cock with simple needs. I know you want to be all arty and shit, but let's be honest, cocks like blowjobs because we don't have to do any work. Dodging freezing ice cubes and necklaces defeats the whole purpose. Thanks for your time."

--- author: Balk

... Mh-mmm.... Donuts... Mh-mmmm...

Making Someone Reach Emotional Orgasm

Bet the title got your attention, you silly, horny fucktard. I was just messing with your head.

Albeit a very dismal morning, interesting shit comes in... I somehow made somebody's day. Unintentionally, of course. Y'know this is the real reason why I've strove to put up a blog here, I wanted to make the world a better place for all mankind. A place full of fairies, rainbows, butterflies, angels, chocolate rives and ballerinas in pink tutus dancing at the top of the hills. A place where gayness is the air we breathe and race meant nothing but a slightly comforting scratch in the ass cheek.

If you, my dear, believed any of the those things I just said, your probably a bit more insane than I'll ever be. Dude, I was just kidding... c'mon. Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yes, It appears I made somebody's day because of what I wrote a few blogs ago. She was absolutely thrilled, she actually had an orgasm. Yeah, I was just messing with you again, hahahah! No, she made a blog with my name on it, kinda goes something like this: Thanks for making my day... TINA LEE! (all caps hers, not mine)

Two Bitches in a Pod

Tina Lee would be yours truly. I felt the need to point it all out to y'all because I'm an attention-whore and I love gossip-mongering, true story. So, I think I mentioned this friend's name one blog ago, her name is Hannah in case somebody needs to know (Please feel free to stalk her, she's bored right now but don't tell her I said so) and the blog she was referring to, you can find to be the cheesiest blog I ever wrote but I don't really feel the need tell which one. Here's a few blurbs from her blog:

“... but just as I was doing some online-eye-flexing (reading Tina’s brain farts), my brain cells twitched as I skimmed her blog. I wasn’t really planning (sic) to rouse my tear glands but at 2 in the morning, I was rushing towards the girls’ bathroom to wipe off my watery eyes. WTF!!! How I wished her blog comes with a warning sign, that this is strictly for non-emotera corner so that I could just easily click the exit option and continue pissing Benny… (LOLZ) Actually, she already told me that she had written a blog about that certain issue but I never thought she would put too much effort in it… (ex: uploaded(sic) with pictures)

I am recalling her past blogs and I think this was the first time that Tina became so mushy with stuffs she’s posting in her blog. But of course, the touch of bitchy-ness never fades in every line…”

Anyways, the real, real reason I'm writing this is to say Thank You to Hannah. Nothing tickles my cold black heart more than knowing I made somebody cry like a little girl at the dead of the night, hahaha! Actually, I kept telling everyone to check out the playlists on the blog instead of the actual brain farts because I'd hate to get a text message telling me how I made someone's brain melt or somebody went Benoit on everyone's asses after scoping out my blog, that would not be cool.

That's it, this is just me giving a shout-out to you, Hannah! You can check out my emo-girl Hannah's blog HERE, it's mostly shit about work and the likes. Hopya like it!

I'm ghost!

The Ardent Hysteria Over Harry

Before anything else, check out this interesting site (Thanks, Pete!) The Death Clock it says here that it's: The Internet's friendly reminder that life is slipping away... fuck, says here I only got 38 years to live? Great... See, I knew I'd die young. So, anyways... I digress....

I find it funny how so much hype is built up over the damned Harry Potter series. Am I the only person who feels like they're making it seem we owe them the pleasure of buying that over-priced book? It's ridiculous, I tell you.

Well, I'm an HP fan. I read the the first book and stopped at the fifth. I watched the first movie version and stopped at the second installment because Hollywood did nothing but rape the damned plot and milk it dry at the box office. I could make a more book-faithful plot in my head better than those hideous crap they made me watch. Or not, I'm not sure.

A good two months before it's release, my good friend Hannah got a manuscript of the alleged 7th HP Book from our Master Writer (who told her he got it from China, just like where everything are made nowadays). Being the curious little dolt that I am, I asked for the ending as soon as she told me she was done reading.

All I remember her telling me was that there were a lot of heavy petting and clumsy sexually-charged situation from the manuscript. Well. Harry finally grows up and makes his parents proud I suppose. I was pretty much aghast that HP series is still considered to be a children's book when there there were fuck scenes in it. What would Jesus do?

Turns out the thing was a fake. Oh well. So fast-forward 2 days before July 21, another friend was absolutely giddy with excitement over it's impending release. She told me she can't wait to get her hands on the final HP book but dreads to wait in line for it.

I gave her a dead-pan answer and said “Why buy the book on the exact date of it's release when you can let the hype die down for a day or two? That way you won't have to wait for your turn to get one, right?” I should've said something more outrageous like, me eating a live human baby with a liger strapped at my back and bungee-jumped from a nearby cliff for lunch because that would probably justify the surprised “poor-retard-can't-understand-shit” look on her face.

Moving on, after it was released I did what most lazy, stingy people would do... went straight at Wikipedia.org and read the damned HP7 plot. It's terrible, right? But not as terrible as one of my favorite character, Fred Weasly dying in the arms of his brother Percy. Or Tonks and Remus Lupin dying in battle against Voldemort. 54 character apparently died on HP7. Nasty, right? Incase you're wondering, no... I'm not the kind of girl who gets offended by spoilers anyways, I would still read the last book even though I know ever nasty bits of plot twists in there.

Ironically, less than two days after it's release, I passed by National Bookstore and saw quite a lot of those HP7 books lying around. No lines, no screaming mob, no nothing. They were just there... looking lonesome, abandoned, probably wondering where the fuck all the deranged HP fans were and why have J.K. Rowling forsaken them. It seems to me, the magic hath fadeth.

I'll be waiting for the soft-bound version, thankyouverymuch,

The Quarter-Pounder Love Affair

I'm not a burger person. Although, I don't find a thick slab of pulverized beef slapped with the usual condiments in-between two buns repulsive, it's just that I like eating rice more. Last Friday was weird though. I was about to head up north for my bi-monthly “pagbibigay-pugay” with my parents and a few hours before my shift ends, I was craving for a burger. Not just any burger, I was craving for a mean McDonald's Quarter-Pounder with cheese

I was recovering from the after effects of a migraine that I had the day before and I felt I should cut myself some slack and just go and have one. I have been watching what I eat for a few years ever since I went on a crash diet on my senior year in college. Needless to say, a quarter-pounder is out of the question. The last time I had a quarter-pounder, I was a college junior, my fattest year. I clearly remember being defeated by that bugger too.

Unsure of whether or not I should go and buy one, I talked to a friend and asked her if it's wise for me to do such a terrible, terrible thing. With an exasperated sigh, she said, “For Christ sake's, if you want a burger, eat one!” Okay, Methinks I got meself a person to blame if I get fat! So off I went to the wonderful, wonderful land of grilled patties, french fries and fried chicken... where heart attack, cholesterol and fatties roam wild and free... McDonald's! (horns blowing)

I confidently ordered the Quarter-Pounder meal. Since I haven't had one of those for a long time (and was too hungry to bother asking around), I had no idea the meal included super-sized drinks and large fries. By the time I got my order, I was already regretting it. But then I told myself, well that's what coke light is for, silly bunny! The things that ran through my head as I stared at my gargantuan meal:

Tina1: Tangina mo, katakawan. Sige, ubusin mo yan!

Tina2: Sharaaap! You're not gonna fuck this one for me.

Tina1: We didn't just starve ourselves for a week to eat this shit, did we?!

Tina2: How should I know na madami to? I just wanted the damned burger...

Tina1: I swear to your God, Tina... If I die of a heart attack right now, I'm blaming you! We could've asked for the regular burger but nooo, genius here had to...

Tina1: Y'know what? I don't see why you're so upset over this? It's coke light, hello!

Tina2: Are you out of your fucking mind?!

Tina1: See that temper? Why can't you, for once in your life, be spontaneous? Raise your voice one more time and I swear...

Tina3: Fuck you both, I'm eating this shit.

Both of them clammed up when I grabbed the Quarter-Pounder in front of me. I could hear the collective sound of my arteries shutting itself close as I peeled open the wrapping. There it is. Warm, moist burger buns... Thick slab of meat with cheese, catsup, mustard and whatever wonderfulness there is in-between. I suppose tens of thousands of writers died trying to describe the beauty that beheld me. It was so... beautiful! I could just cry. The first bite was the best. It was soooo fucking good. By the time I ate half of my fries, most of my burger and all of my coke light, I was thisclose on puking my guts out.

I tell you though, that was the best 30 minutes of my life. But I swear to God, if I eat another one of those monster burger in the near future, I'd kill myself with a blunt knife,

Rediscovering Good Music: OMFG the playlists are up!!!

Before anything else, lemme just say:
There's no particular reason why Eddie's cute mug found it's way here... *sigh*

I finally succeeded on putting up my playlists on my "official" blog! I could just die right now... or not. I am convinced that Music makes life a bit more bearable for us mortals. I'm a true-blue 90's baby where grunge was born and good music abounds. I have low tolerance for emo-songs and heavy/rap/whatevershit metal as well.

80's Glam Rock was awesome though, I loved everything about it! The hair, the glitters, the attitude, the catsuits and the energy! I lean towards the classics rather than faddish crap that seems to be coming out more and more these days. Honestly, it all sounds the fucking same to me. I took the liberty of listing down my favorite songs of all time because well... this is my blog afterall. Kidding aside, the reason I love these song are not because of the melodies but of the lyrics. In no particular order they are:

Till I Hear It From You

Gin Blossoms

I didn't ask
They shouldn't have told me
At first I'd laugh, but now
It's sinking in fast
Whatever they've sold me

Well baby I don't want to take advice from fools
I'll just figure everything is cool
Until I hear it from you...

It gets hard
The memory's faded
Who gets what they say
It's likely they're just jealous and jaded

Well maybe, I don't want to take advice from fools
I'll just figure everything is cool
Until I hear it from you...
Until I hear it from you...

I can't let it get me off
Or break up my train of thought
As far as I know, nothing's wrong
Until I hear it from you...

Still thinking about not living without it
Outside looking in
Till we're talking about it, not stepping around it
Maybe I don't want to take advice from fools
I'll just figure everything is cool
Until I hear it from you...

I have a soft spot for Gin Blossoms. Catchy melodies and quirky lyrics (Hey Jealousy, Follow You Down) but this song holds a special place because it reminds me so much of my college/dorm days when I would try my best to learn how to play this piece on my guitar and my crush played it for me one fine morning at Radyo Veritas. *sigh*

All Over You

Live

Our love is like water

Pinned down and abused

for being strange...

Our love is no other...

than me alone

for me all day

Our love is like water/angels

pinned down and abused

yeah...

All over you, all over me

the sun, the fields, the sky

I've often tried to hold the sea

the sun, the fields, the tide

Lay me now, lay me down

Absolutely addicted in it's simplicity. I've heard this song when I was but a wee little Tina and when I stumbled upon it through a friend (and his trusty hard disk, I might add) I fell inlove with the song all over again.

Hold My Hand

Hootie and The Blowfish

With a little love, and some tenderness
Well walk upon the water
Well rise above this mess
With a little peace, and some harmony
Well take the world together
Well take em by the hand

cause Ive got a hand for you
cause I wanna run with you

Yesterday, I saw you standing there
Your head was down, your eyes were red
No comb had touched your hair
I said get up, and let me see you smile
Well take a walk together
Walk the road awhile, cause

cause Ive got a hand for you
Ive got a hand for you
cause I wanna run with you
Wont you let me run with you? yeah

Hold my hand
Want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand
Ill take you to a place where you can be
Hold my hand
Anything you wanna be because
I wanna love you the best that, the best that I can

See I was wasted, and I was wasting time
till I thought about your problems, I thought about your crimes
Then I stood up, and then I screamed aloud
I dont wanna be part of your problems
Dont wanna be part of your crowd, no

cause Ive got a hand for you
Ive got a hand for you
cause I wanna run with you
Ah, wont you let me run with you?

Hold my hand
Want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand
Ill take you to the promised land
Hold my hand
Maybe we cant change the world but
I wanna love you the best that, the best that I can, yeah

Hold my hand
Want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand
Ill take you to a place where you can be
Hold my hand
Anything you wanna be because
I...oh...no, no, no, no, no

Hold my hand
Want you to hold my hand
Hold my hand
Ill take you to the promised land
Hold my hand
Maybe we cant change the world but
I wanna love you the best that, best that I can
Oh, the best that I can

The lyrics are just beautiful. I guess I liked it because it it gives you hope to love. It's corny but that's how I see it. If I do get to hook-up with somebody this year, I want this as "our song"! Again, this is an old favorite stemming back to my highschool years. Nobody does it like Hootie and The Blowfish!

With or Without You

U2

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you...

Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you...

With or without you
With or without you

Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you

With or without you
With or without you
I cant live...
With or without you

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give...
And you give...
And you give yourself away

My hands are tied
My body bruised, shes got me with
Nothing to win and
Nothing left to lose

And you give yourself away
And you give yourself away
And you give...
And you give...
And you give yourself away

With or without you
With or without you
I cant live...
With or without you

With or without you
With or without you
I cant live...
With or without you
With or without you

I've always loved U2 more than I love Pearl Jam but not as much as I love Eddie Vedder and his fine ass... what? Oh, this song is an oldie but this is one of those songs you don't get tired of listening over and over again.

I Am Mine

Pearl Jam

The selfish they're all standing in line...
Faith in their hope and to buy themselves time.
Me, I figure as each breath goes by,
I only own my mind.

The north is to south what the clock is to time.
There's east and there's west and there everywhere life.
I know that I was born and I know that I'll die.
The in between is mine. I am mine.

And the meaning's it gets left behind...
Oh the innocence lost at one time...
Significance behind the eyes, theres no need to hide.
Were safe tonight.

The ocean is full cause everyones crying,
The full moon is looking for friends at high tide.
The sorrow grows bigger when the sorrows denied.
I only know my mind. I am mine.

And the meaning's it gets left behind...
Oh the innocence lost at one time.
Significance behind the eyes, theres no need to hide...
We're safe tonight.

And the feelings it gets left behind...
Oh the innocence broken with time.
Were all different behind the eyes, we may need to hide

And the feelings it gets left behind...
Oh the innocence lost at one time...
We're all different behind the eyes
Were safe tonight.... yeah...

Relatively new track I guess. I made a blog about this song and if I remember it right, I said the song speaks to me. This probably has the most relevant lyrics to me more than the others. Especially the “.. and the feelings it gets left behind...” part. It's just so awesome how Pearl Jam came up with a song so thought-provoking (they always do but well...) it boggles the mind. Raw human emotions, fucking raw...

I wanted to include "She's Out Of My Life" by M.J. and "Cryin" by Aerosmith but I did say favorite songs of all time . God, how dem rocks my boat. I pretty much think Eddie Vedder, Bono and Ed Kowalczyk all have great vocals. Eddie, of course, is the best I think. Not because I have a huge crush on him but because I just love his voice. it's freakishly sexy. Ed is great, awesome in his own right and Bono is Bono, what is there to say that hasn't been said about St. Bono? Good-looking, excellent vocals, commanding stage presense and nice perky ass on that little leather pants he always likes to wear... need I say more?

Enjoy the songs, bitches,

Thoughts On Getting Inked

I've always had a fascination on tattoos. Of course, it certainly didn't stem from my childhood. No, probably around the time I hit puberty. When I was in high school, I had a guy friend who sports gargantuan tattoos on his legs, both legs. I don't remember if he got inked on the biceps too because I didn't really cared enough to check. He would always boast that his drunk father never knew he got those things permanently doodled on his legs. Back then, He was also a junkie and was often trying his best to off himself.

Growing up in a very conservative town where the priests and the Jueteng lords rule over the land I grew up on, tattoos are taboo, especially on women. As well as smoking, pre-marital sex and all the bad things your mom warned you about. Tattooed men in my town are stereotypically tagged as being a drunk, ex-con, junkie, radical loony-bins or all of the above. On women, it's a skank-mark.

So it goes without saying tattoos are way out of the question, if you were raised like the proper Pollyanna that I am. I don't fancy myself as being the rebellious type, heck, I never rebelled against my parents. But that doesn't mean I'm not. I always knew I had it in me. Although not really thinking of getting one in my younger years I began to have second-thoughts on getting inked when I was in college.

On my senior year, I had another friend who had numerous tattoos, both biceps, on his belly-button and his back got doodled on 'em. He was the ultimate look of cool. Back in the day, he was the most popular guy in school. He was a jock, a frat guy, girls are after his ass and had most of our professor eating at the palm of his hand. Judging by the last statement I made, I never got to know if his coolness matches his intellect. Oh well, we can't win 'em all.

I wanted to get inked too but I somehow knew I'd never get the nerve to go through it. The pain is not really the problem. It was the thought of branding yourself with what, at that point in your life, feels like what symbolizes you as a person when several years from now you know you'd regret is what I have problems with. After all, what you think is cool now, would change in the years to come. But that really didn't stop me from making a pact with my best friend that as soon as we got our first paycheck, we'd do the deed. She shares the same fascination I have. That was two years ago.

So a few days ago, I was reading a blog about a friend's views on getting inked. Apparently, it has become quite a fad here on the company I'm in. Not that sudden collective thoughts of wanting to be cool hit the fan, no. It's just a great deal of people here are artists. Not the artist who likes to smile for the camera or god forbid, had dabbled into acting, no. True-blue artists who to the rest of the world are commonly perceived as weirdly indifferent and other-worldly. I must admit it piqued my interest quite a bit more when I found out a whole lot of my friends here wanted to get one too.

Then my best guy friend got inked last week and he was so happy with the result, he keep badgering me to do the same. He knew I've always wanted to get a tattoo done so I can't really blame the guy. I still have second-thoughts about it. I don't want to get a tattoo because I think it's cool or get into that everybody-is doing-it-so-why-can't-I kind of thinking. The only thing that's stopping me from getting inked right now is that I still can't find the right symbol that would embody the person that I am.

Unknown to others I do have a tattoo. Two of them, in fact. I got an eyeliner tattoo thanks to my mom and her sudden spurt of vanity four years ago. But I seriously doubt I want to be known as the person who immortalized her narcissistic tendencies by getting an eyeliner tattoos done. That's so would be so wrong. It's safe to say, I'm not going to get inked anytime soon except if I felt I found "it" and not gonna try my best to hide it behind tons of concealer years after. But it's gonna be on my nape so who's gonna know right?

Certainly not my parents, no.

All Differences Aside... Friday was Great.

I don't know where to start, maybe I'll start with last Friday was great. More than great, it was awesome. I called for a temporary truce with the people I used to hang-out with to organize a party for two of our friends. As always, I dreaded that day. I promised myself I won't talk to them anymore. I succeeded on banishing them from my circle. It might strike anyone as me being a self-righteous cold-hearted, arrogant bitch but at that point in my life I felt that I do not need to stick around for people I can do without.

But that day was great, I give you that. I admit I've gone soft on my resolve. Mind you, that statement does not, in an way, means I'm ready to go back to things the way they were before the feud. I guess it means, I forgive them for what they did. I might never get to stay long enough here to listen to their explanations but just the same I forgive them. Forgiveness does not come easily to me. There are people who have fucked me over so long ago but I still haven't forgiven them up to now. So basically when I say, I forgive slowly... we're talking months or years, man.

I get this message on my messenger:

"Tonight was great. I wish we could do it more often. I'd like us to be friends. You may think I've changed, but who knows? You might like the new me. It was great spending time with you again. I missed you. Yun lang (that's all)"

I regret that I couldn't bring myself to respond much more have the guts to try and make things a bit friendlier between them and I. I wish I could say “Sure, lets be friends again, let go out and sing our hearts out at the nearest videoke bar next Friday like we always planned” I wish I could be that person. But I'm very well-aware that I'm often the reason why my social life is fucked-up. I make my life complicated. I don't handle gone-wrongs as graciously as others. Sometimes it worries me why I have a lot of anger in me when things don't go as it should be.

I wish a sincere apology is enough for me to forget, forgetting would be nice. I miss my boys, yes. I would love to hang-out and yes, we should do that more often. I'm not angry at you guys anymore and I forgive you. But I wish forgiving comes with total absolution. It doesn't, at least for me. For all it's worth, I'm sorry I let you down too.

But you're right, Friday was great, it was awesome.

... And I'm Telling You To Smile

Some people look too fucking hard to find happiness,... including me. I was stuck in traffic on my way to the office and unexpectedly had free time to twiddle with my iPod (which by the way, I had G-Masked last night. Cost me quite a buck too but I'll be damned if I see a speck of dirt on it's pristine white click wheel)

That alone made me happy. Having some time to look outside the window of my ride while listening to U2's old hit, All I Want Is You. My mind reels, this is a good subject to write about. So on top of my head I'm gonna list down the 5 Simple Pleasures enjoyed by yours truly on her down time, haha!

But First... smile for me, bitch!

Discovering you left a hundred bucks on your jean pocket, just when you're about to run out of cash

--- Sometimes I run out of cash because I'm too lazy to head on the ATM Machine and get me some dough. Happens very rarely but when it does my mood brightens, haha!

The moment between waking up and drinking your first cup of coffee for the day

--- Yeah, the time you're barely awake and hating to have to wake so early (but is awake enough to drag your sleepy ass off the bed) By the time you're having your first cup of coffee, you bask into the quietness of the morning, knowing a lot of stuff is gonna happen today, regardless if it's good or bad. I mean, how bad can it be right?

When your 3 year old baby brother says “ I Love You/You're Beautiful”

--- Ahhh my brother. Too young to hide his feelings but old enough to have half the mind and say “You're Beautiful” to his older sister (or else! Kidding). I love that little runt.

Smoking and animatedly discussing trivial shit with your friends after lunch

--- Ive always been a sucker for jokes. It's so much funner in the office when you've got good friends to make fun of you (or vice-versa)

Being stuck in traffic and your favorite song gets plays on the radio

--- Talk about a little breather in time for the road rage to take over. I'm also a sucker for karaoke, singing has been my greatest frustration. So when my favorite song, hell, any song I know, is on... bitch I'd be belting out the damned lyrics shamelessly. Fuck the listeners to hell!

See, some things happens randomly while some are part of your daily ritual. The thing is, just be happy you get spared from the everyday drama even for a nanosecond. Let's put it this way, if all cockroaches in the metro are as tight-assed as we are... Dude, they ain't gonna be taking over the earth after humanity nuked themselves into extinction 70 years from now. The beaver will... what?

Great I'm not making any sense again, but you know what I mean.

Rolling In Commercialism

Poverty sucks. You know why I'm writing about poverty? Due to my obvious lack of self-control I managed to blow half-a-month's salary buying stuff I don't need. There. So I came up with a list for you guys out there to at the very least, have a clue on what NOT to do to save some bucks.


1) Never... EVER buy this shoes when you're low on some cash.

2) Don't buy office stuffs just because you want to HAVE office stuff for your desk. Wanting is clearly different from Needing.

3) Fight the impulse to buy an obscenely expensive/branded tumbler just because your desk happens to be near them new water dispenser.

4) Don't buy an expensive/branded blush-on just because you look soooo damn pale. For the love of God just spank yourself silly on the cheeks to look alive

5) Don't be too over-zealous when handing out money for a production oufit. (Nga pala, here's me on my unabashed plugging. Dec. 15 Meyric's!!! If your a music lover please come. By the way just to answer a few questions from my friends: No, it's not free there's an entrance fee but it's gonna be worth it... No, there's no reservations... No, Sugarfree is not playing... Yes, you can invite your friends and No, I'm not treating any of you leeches tickets for the damned shebang

6) Think twice before agreeing to come for an out of town trip... Heck, I don't even like swimming but did that stop me? Noooooo....

7) Stop window shopping!!! It's the Devil!!!

8) Don't buy a 700 pesoses worth umbrella... It's pricey ... It's just an umbrella for christ's sake!!! Did that stop me? Noooooo.....

9) Stop buying socks just because you've got new shoes!

10) And don't ever do the following in one breath as this may result in what layman's term called... Clinically-Broke.

So here I am, waiting for the next payday to arrive, so near yet so far. And when that day comes, you guys would go about your way, happily counting hard-earned money... Expect me here, sitting on my desk... hands tied down on my chair.

...and it's not even December yet.

A lump in the head just might be the thing

Last Monday was nothing out of the ordinary. Didn't wake up on the wrong side of my bed, had my usual coffee fix, was not late for work and the likes. Imagine my surprise when earlier that afternoon I got the blues. Yep. One minute I was fine, the next, I was so sure that something is amiss and I can't quite put my finger on it.

I think it's weird to be depressed about something you don't even know. I contemplated on the fact that maybe I just might be going insane, which is not so far-fetched, haha!



I wanted to talk to someone but I'm not really sure what to say. I was suddenly in limbo and was very much anxious to talk to my friends, no not my friends from the office but my long-time friends. I dunno why.

So anyways, I did and it didn't really a any difference. Much to my dismay.

But. Last night, I bumped my head.

Ta-daaah! Yep, I was in a scuffle with my sister (for fun, of course) and I bumped my head on the wall. It was hard enough to have made my right ear hurt.

I was laughing so hard I didn't care to check if I had a lump or something. But now that I think of it, sometimes that's just what you need. A bump in the head.

My thoughts is cleared up and I'm back to my old perky self, haha!

Happy 2007, y'all!

Suddenly A Morning Person

I have become (to my dismay) a morning person. The kind who goes to sleep at 10P.M. and wakes up at 7fuckingA.M. Every day I curse the day my shift changed.I would get out of my house in a zombie-like stupor, I am greeted by the abnormally bright morning sun.

I fight the urge to run back into my dark room and sleep on my warm bed.

I would wait patiently for a ride to our office, not quite fully awake and braving the nightmare that is Rush Hour. After reaching for my stop, I make my way into the office by walking for 10 minutes, it always amazes me that I somehow made it without killing myself by dozing-off while crossing the busy street.

I would fall into a trance while walking, and most often, I would talk quietly to myself. But, only in my head. Lest I would be mistaken for a nut in chucks. In my head, I would laugh at myself. It must be quite a spectacle to see a walking zombie in the heart of Ortigas.

I would work up a sweat which annoys me to no end. Already my day is ruined.

The sun is always blinding. I would squint my eyes almost shut and trying to make sense why people are awake at this god-forsaken hour.

Why are they smiling at this hour?! What's so funny? Why are they so fucking cheerful?!

Have you ever had the feeling where everything seems to be happening so fast but meanwhile, you feel like you are stuck in a eternally dragging, slow-motion pace?

Not too much caffeine I guess. I arrive at the office, finally. I makes a bee-line to the nearest vending machine. Coffee equates to bliss.

I was so proud when I said before that I have never seen what 8A.M. in the morning looks like in a long time. Now I see it everyday. It's not a pretty sight.

I will never get the hang of this waking up early thing,

Everything is just peachy.

Oh hell. I think I'm coming down with something. Yes. Ahd gohd a code... a-choooooh! Well, I can't really complain since getting a cold didn't actually hinder me from smoking (unlike having a cough) so I should count myself lucky, yes?

So I was inspired to start blogging because of the fact that again, I am flat-out broke. I'm sick, I'm harassed and I'm dirt-poor. I'm so poor I can't even afford to joke about it (that's a joke, if you didn't get it by now.)There's gotta be more to life than being this poor.

To make matters worst, the rubber band from which my teeth are currently attached to via braces snapped on me. I was greedily wolfing down a generous helping of second-rate calderetang baka when it happened. Know the connection? Let's just say... my dentist is in Kamias, I'm financially-challenged and yet I refuse to take a bus.

I'm listening to a song that I love so much and I think most of you will agree, Dream by The Cranberries. It's dark, eerie and full of melodrama. Just like my typical Tuesday afternoon... hahahaha!

I have been listening to sad love songs recently, which I have to admit, confuses me. Not that I could relate to the song or whatever shit. Aaaaand.... No, I'm not in denial. I just feel like starting a trend. Yes, a trend. Dammit, I knew I shouldn't start writing when I just ingested Neozep. I'm starting to not make sense again.

The only worst thing about being poor is the fact that my nose hurts from sneezing all day and the dry air from the office air conditioning system is not helping. It's cold, dry and I hate it. God, where are my boogers when I need it?

Oh yeah... Enna got rid of 'em.

Is nothing fuckin' sacred in this hateful word?!

Amelie Wants Love and Goddammit So Do I!

Got an hour to kill and I'm bored as shit. I think I'm having a “writer's” block right about... now. See, I was given a task that requires me to think nasty thoughts and if you haven't figured that one out then I won't explain *blushes* So I'll write about something trivial instead.

God, I love this song. I'm loving the song One by U2. Lovely song. Ambitious but lovely nonetheless. Anyways, I got to see Amelie. A friend loaned me the DVD almost three weeks ago and I can't believe I somehow convinced myself that I'd get bored if I watch it and waited only until yesterday to watch it since I have no better stuff to do. Besides, he loaned me a Zach Braff starrer a while back that bored the shit out of me and I somehow didn't trust his judgment after that. I'm sorry I doubted you for a sec, Benny!

So there. I watched the damned movie and my friend was right on two accounts. First, It was an excellent movie. Second, not counting the protagonist's unnatural goodness of heart, he said I would be able to relate to the girl. Well... fine, I did.

In a nutshell, she had a weird childhood and shit like that and upon discovering a hidden treasure on the loose tile of her bathroom floor/wall/whatever she decided to do good things to OTHER people. So she searched for the person who used to be the owner of the treasure and when she succeeded, she couldn't get enough of the “goody-good” feeling she got down on her groin area (I'm making this up right now and I just lol'd)

So, she decided to do good things to all of mankind at the expense of her own happiness. Which is sad but then again, she knew the life of a saint ain't all peaches and cream, y'know? Oh Snap... I forgot, lemme make it clear that that was not the part that I could relate to, hahahha! God.

The love part, yes, yes. She saw this guy who's a bit on the quirky side and shit like that. To make the story short, they got together in the end because she realized she's a coward and didn't want to end up a frigid do-gooder forever and ever. (I sooo make a good movie critic.) She went up and kissed him... several times. What a slut. I know, right? And the guy is so cute. I hate her for kissing him since he's cute and she's all lovey-dovey and I'm alone, juuuust talking to myself. Yeah.

Hahah! I'm kidding. It was kinda romantic, really. Kinda sucks to watch it alone though. I resorted to talking to myself. I was gushing, had no choice (I lol'd again) and all that jazz and was like “eeehheeiiiiii...!!!!” yeah, I really did make a noise closely resembling that or was it more like “aaaeeiiikillmenowI'mgonnafuckingdiealoneandnobodylovesmeiiiieeeeiii”? Not really sure. It was fun though.

So what's the point of me writing a painfully long blog about it? I have a gnawing feeling and it made me realize that being single is fun but not as fun as it used to be. Or not as lonely as I remembered. I had so many chances at love and I blew every chance I got. FUCK! How Ironic! Know what's playing on my playlist right now? I Want Love by Elton John. OMFG. No kidding!

Oh God. I'm actually laughing out loud again This is probably the funniest blog I ever wrote. Fuck you! I didn't mean I want love of the different kind because contrary to common misconception, I'm not gay. I'm just... weird? I want the regular love. I'm still waiting for that special guy though and I think matatagalan bago dumating but that's okay.

I have plenty of time to spare, hahahhaha!

Fortune Befriends The Bold... Not The Lazy

Two jobs later and... I come to the point in my professional life where I am about to embark on an even harder journey. Push for a salary increase. Just the thought makes me cringe, haha! Admittedly, I'm a sucker for money, no surprise there. But it's more than just money this time. Well, maybe it has something to do with money but that's not really the point. Yeah, I don't get it either.

See, I'm nearing my anniversary from the wonderful company that I'm working for. What a great adventure IwebMasters has been to me all these months. Except for the gift checks and the webdate experience most of those adventure has been bad. I have been to an account that tested my nerves and wit for three months. It's a total nightmare, really. My boss keeps breathing down my neck, among other things of course.

Anyways, I had a very humiliating experience that would seriously pose threat to my never ending love affair/quest for money. (we had an NBI raid scare as I was writing this by the way)

Actually, I don't feel like going into the details anymore... damned NBI. So the point is, I somehow managed to screw up right smack in the middle of prepping for a salary negotiation. Of course, I'm annoyed and that's why I'm writing about it right now.

I'm considering on resigning if my request is not met though I have no other job offer as of the moment. It's not a wise thing to do but if ever there is and it would be able to keep my pocket happy then I definitely would jump at the opportunity. That thought saddens me though since I met lots of wonderful people right here. But something tells me I ought to move on. I'm pretty sure that time would come.

But in the meantime, I'm stuck stewing on my own fat.

Just When You Look Like Shit, Mandatory ID Pic Taking Day Comes... You just can't get a break.

Look at this scenario:

You've been whining for two weeks about your horrible haircut... hell, you even wrote a painfully long blog about it... you're bloated and you feel as big as a bluefuckingwhale, you've been breaking out. You received word that ID Picture taking day is tomorrow and is adviced to wear your cutest smart-casual attire you dare to come up with. Not a good idea because you foolishly gave all your nice smart-casual clothes away to charity as well as all of your girly flats.

You are stuck with option one, ignore the damned note and go the damned photo gig wearing your usual black tee and chucks. Option two, find the most decent top buried somewhere in your still-bloated closet (but who has time for that, right?) and feign innocence, telling people you never got that memo and three, let your fashion-designerslashsister talk you into wearing an impossibly ruffly-prissy top that's two sizes too big for you. You try to argue but she gave her what-if-you-get-sacked-for-being-stubborn speeches so early in the fucking morning. You brain wasn't half-alive yet to ponder other ways to reel yourself away from a sticky situation so you said “okay”

You arrived in the office knowing you're gonna be teased for wearing something that resembles a Barong and with your lezbot haircut it's only a matter of time before you start to grow an Adam's apple and the look is complete. You slap on a smile and pretend that everything is juuust peachy. Oh it get's better.

The it happened. You get word that instead of the usual ID picture where your ugly mug is the only thing visible from the pic, your whole midsection (waist-up, people) gets to join the party. Your mind reels thinking, with a two-sizes too big top, you look like a fucking balloon. A fucking white balloon. A fucking billowing white balloon. A fucking billowing white balloon who already feels bloated.

That dreaded day a photograph of you is forcibly taken just when you look totally shitty. A photo you are going to sport around for the rest of your days in the company your working for. Sounds like a girl's nightmare, no? Well... to me it sounds like my typical Friday in the office.

They could've done it a month ago when I still have an ok-looking hair... or two weeks ago when I'm still not as fat as I feel now or yesterday when I'm wearing an okay-looking shirt but nooo it has to be TODAY. Today. A girl just can't get a fucking break in this stupid world. Uggghhh.

(oh, by the way, the pic above has nothing to do with this bitter, bitter post.

I just thought it's funny as shit that's all,

The Greener Side of the Fence

I have this persistent, gnawing feeling of listlessness brought on by my sudden need to move on. I feel like somehow, this is only as far as I could go. No more, No less. I'm happy but not really content and being the greedy little fucktard that I am, I feel like I'm missing something. Something that I could never get if I stay.

I guess what I'm saying is that what if I could be happier somewhere else? Maybe I wanted more than being content in this quaint little lifestyle I'm used to. More than being happy, I want glory, I want meaning, I want change. I want to know I'm going somewhere, not running around in circles and playing fetch with the white nepotists.

If only loyalty is enough to sustain the vagrant in me,