eenie MEANie moe

For the longest time, I've noticed that there are certain people who either haven't heard about the line "if you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all" or they simply just don't like this saying. This is particularly applicable to two general groups:


A. Those we haven't seen in a long time such as classmates, former co-workers and distant relatives 
B. People we see on a regular basis, like co-workers and neighbors. 


When a compliment eludes their brains and a simple hi or hello just won't suffice and keeping their mouths shut is not an option, these people tend to resort to pointing out the negative and/or the obvious about us, no matter how fine, normal and/or fabulous we look. Example: You've gained weight, You've lost weight, Your hair is dry, You're too dark, You're too pale, Your outfit is too flashy, Your outfit is too dull, etc. 


(An exception of course is when a booger is hanging right outside our noses or a piece of broccoli is stuck on our teeth. I would point out such things to the affected party!)


Anyhoo, the point of this post is not because I care what they say. Words and stuff usually don't affect me especially if I don't give a shit about the person saying or doing them. The point of this post is just me wanting to say the following:


If you can't say something nice at all, then be prepared for a mean retort.


Examples:


Distant Relative: Oi, tambuka na nimo oi kabuthonon na man ka! (Hey, you're so fat that you're about to burst!)
Reply: Ikaw murag kamatyonon na man ka oi! Unsa imong sakit? (And you look like you're about to die! OMG! What's the diagnosis?)


Classmate: Na unsa na man na imong buhok oi? Kalkag kaayo! (What's wrong with your hair? It looks soo disheveled!)
Reply: Ikaw kay mao ra gyud gihapun imong histura ay... Tsk, tsk, tsk! (And you look exactly the same... Tsk, tsk, tsk!) - say this with a shake of the head and a pitying look. 


Other Examples of Replies:

• Ikaw pud. (You too)
• Di ba na priso ka? (Were you in prison?)
• Hala, na unsa na imong nawng? (What's wrong with your face?)
• Murag naa lagi gamay nga sayop sa imong retoke. (Something's a bit off with your plastic surgery)
• Mura lagig wa ka naligo ron. (It seems like you haven't showered)

The Black Legionaries

Last night:

Another one of those black ant colony invasions. I don't mind sharing leftover cocktails but to set up camp in the AC and then into the bed... now that's a different story. The captain awesome will destroy you in a bit, small creatures.

But the captain is still amiss. The legion is now divided into cohorts while i'm sipping my minty cocktail and biding my time. They'll never know what hit them when my butt lands on them! Mwahahahahaha!

Skimboarding Catastrophe

Don't ever attempt at skimboarding when you've:

a. never done it before, ever
b. your butt is the size of Africa
c: you've drunk 2.5 liters of redhorse, 3 bottles of san mig light and one tall glass of Jaegerbomb (jaegermeister + 1 bottle of Red Bull) all in one afternoon.
d. all of the above

Obviously, I picked "d. all of the above" even before I learned about a. b. and c.

Look what it got me: partial amnesia about the experience, can only remember trying to wrestle a kid's skimboard away from him so I could give it a go. A stiff neck, a broken big toenail hanging by a thread and a very sore butt.

Oh, but I remember this clearly: laughing like a hyena whenever I crash landed! Which was in ALL 3 or 4 attempts!

The Invasion of the Ultimate Nasties

The Ok-ok Buster is busily exterminating roaches outside the back door. There are literally HUNDREDS! Good grief! Can they smell my loathing-slash-fear that's why they're taunting me??? Our back area is CLEANER than most places here in Cebu City! I'm permanently shuddering in disgust! And frantically looking behind my back and above and left and right and down below every 10 seconds. And perpetually on the On Your Mark Position in case some undesirables penetrate the interior. Nightmare!!!

Pee Nuts

Sigh. If only there were trees, bushes, wilderness, forests, etc. near the guard on duty... 

Sometimes I hold my pee until the very last minute because I hate to do the deed in the now common toilets of the office. For one thing, the toilets smell soo funky now that PT's utility personnel are not in charge of sanitation anymore. For another and more importantly, I am scared shit.

It's because there is no security guard manning the toilets and I don't trust the other tenants we are sharing the toilets with. I'm not judging these people by their looks but by the stranger factor. Who knows what he or she is going through on a given work day and suddenly goes ballistic in the vicinity.

What's worse, my access card takes forever to register in order to be granted entry back to the office. So after pee time, I am always frantic: pushing my access card all around the sensor while constantly and fearfully looking over my shoulder or up the unfinished ceiling just in case some psycho suddenly strikes, while my heart is beating a hundred miles a minute.

God, all the suffering I have to go through just to go to the loo.

What The!

OMG! It's soooo unlike me to forget my x-mini and my touch paraphernalia. Instead, I surprisingly realized that I remembered to bring an umbrella! Which for most of my life, is not a necessity at all. What has the world come into? I hope this is just a temporary manifestation of boring grown-uppiness, the kind that I will optionally avoid until I'm 90 above.

It's Amazing How a Lot can Happen in Less Than 24 Hours

One of the LPs told me she'd french-kiss me if the idea wasn't incestous at all. 

Then I tripped over my own 4-inch wedge, fell on my butt, then on my back with my two feet raised. 

My electricity got disconnected. 

I saw two persons lying injured on the street, a few moments after they were hit by a cab. 

Plus I learned that a mojito can also mean male-stripper in Bulgaria. So if I say I want a mojito, I'm actually hitting two birds with one stone. I'd get a hot soon-to-be-naked guy and a cool alcoholic drink. Oooo-lala.

I Love My Hair

Even when it's scaring me.

It's the 2nd time this week that I freaked out because something was crawling on my skin, only to find out that that it was just actually my hair.

My apartment is near to a mini wilderness that's why I always stumble across some creepy crawlies creeping and crawling inside the house.

I don't mind much except if they start flying and/or heading for my direction.

And as long as they're not the mortal enemies.

Speaking of which, I still can't get over the traumatic events of Thursday night. A total of 7 huge cockroaches and all of them were flying about. Soooo gross plus one. I will never go back to that place again, ever.  

And there was the fact that the MW was very specific about me not causing a scene. I did not, because the waitresses were very adept at reaching for 'em once they land on the walls and then killing 'em. The last straw was when another was flying in our direction. I ran towards the exit, leaving everything behind --- lappy, ipod, beer, cash, the MW and all. 

Midnight Apocalyptic Flooding Thingy

Shiiiiiit! Fuuuccckkk! Double merde, sacre bleu and craaaaaapp! My kitchen sink's hose suddenly snapped and all this water started pouring out. In torrents.

At first, I was like: What's that sound, what, what, what, what and Where is it coming from, where, where, where, where?!? And suddenly the Apocalyptic Flood started flowing in between my toes.

And bringing the oceans, lakes and rivers into my home and underneath the Orgasmic Bar via my sink's nether regions. This time, my Bar is not feeling vundabar at all. (coz the vundaBAR is made of wood and water will just make it fragile/collapsible. hahahaahah)

Twenty-five minutes later: The flood was contained; the leak and overflow were halted but there was flood management and floor drying being done at midnight. With tools including rugs, old newspapers, dirty laundry and useless cloths. But still, and I know for certain: it's still wet under the bar. PistingYawaAtay.

All the same, danke to the man whore/ miracle worker. :)

But I'm still shaken to the core.

Fuck, fuckety, fuck, fuck.

Attack of the Centipede

I accidentally stepped on the drain while taking a shower this morning. When I noticed the small flood, I also saw a centipede about 2 inches long swimming toward me. AAAAAAAAAAAAH! I ran for my life.

Well, I had to go back to the bathroom. There's no chance I'm going out to the world out there without a complete shower. And with soap suds all over.

I took a peek and there was the monster, resting on the lower part of the bathroom wall. It must be tired after all that swimming-slash-trying to attack me escapade. I silently reached out for the bottle of moriatic acid and poured it over the creature. And I watch it shrivel and die before my eyes.

It's so stressful to go through such violence during the start of day.

I feel a bit guilty. I hope it's mama is not the vengeful type.

The Cockroach from Hell

After having had a lazy Sunday staying in bed all day, I finally decided to get up at around 10pm. I took off all my clothes and wrapped myself in a huge, soft towel.

I made my way to the bathroom. I wanted to give myself a nice, thorough washing. I untied my hair and slipped off the towel. The thought of the water's chill made me shiver... I started to pour water all over me. To my surprise, it was satisfyingly warm. Mmmmm. I sighed with pleasure. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, a movement near the bathroom window caught my attention.

Shit! A cockroach! Of all the things I hate in this world, its way up there with death and torture. My first instinct was to run for it. But then I saw that the little vermin was already holed up in the gap between the wall, its feelers waving mockingly at me. Maybe this wasn’t the flying kind. I decided to take my chances. Foregoing a shampoo, conditioning and a body and facial scrub, I hastily rubbed a bar of soap on myself. Suddenly the damn thing started to fly! Aaaaaaah! Fuuuckk! All the expletives in the world seem to rush to my head, mingling with my fear, erasing any coherent thought.

I crouched in terror, ready to crawl on the bathroom floor if it even comes anywhere near me. But it landed on the wall opposite the door. In panic, I hurriedly unlocked the door and ran across the living room, a combination of soap and water trailing after me, with the hopes of finding our housekeeper so she can kill the bastard.

I went to the kitchen and froze. Oh my God. There was my uncle, pretending all at once to hide his shock and to not have seen my nakedness. I backtracked immediately and to my horror, I realized that our front door was wide open! I imagined all the people outside. My house was right by the road. God! Some unwitting passerby, my elderly neighbor or even the guy manning the cell phone shop near our front gate must have gotten the shock of their lives.

I don't wanna ever know who saw me that night. My uncle seeing me was mortifying enough.

I went to my grandma's room, which is right beside the bathroom, hoping to find something to cover me up. All I found was her ancient, threadbare face towel. In desperation, I used that minuscule piece of cloth to cover up what it could and shouted for my sister.

The moment she saw me, she clearly thought I was crazy, (crazier than usual, that is) standing there, naked as the day I was born, dripping with soapsuds with a piece of face towel held against my chest. I hurriedly explained to her what happened and asked her to call my boyfriend. Apparently, our housekeeper, who is also our in-house cockroach killer was nowhere to be found.

When the boyfriend arrived, I was still hiding in my grandma's room, now wearing her house dress. He checked every corner of the bathroom but the cockroach was nowhere to be found. He told me to get on with my bath. I hesitated… then dashed back in to the bathroom. But I realized I couldn’t do it knowing that the cockroach was still lurking somewhere, spying on me, ready to pounce once again. So I turned the shower on full-blast, swiftly twisted my body in every angle to get the soap off, grabbed my towel, quickly wrapped it around me and made another mad dash out the bathroom door.

I went to the kitchen sink and wiped off the remaining suds with a wash cloth while my pounding heart started to slow down. Sadly, I trudged back to my room and donned a fresh set of clothes, disappointed to have my planned bath go down the drain. “Where is the cockroach, where is the cockroach?” I muttered darkly over and over again.

Moments later, the boyfriend came in and handed me a bottle of beer, trying hard not to laugh. Apparently, my sister told him the whole story. I stuck out my tongue at him but gratefully took a swig of the ice-cold drink.