I know that condemning ma’self for ma ambiguous place in tha universe won’t help me a bit. Sorry, God. Thanks, Red and P.I.C.

Havin' nuthin' to do on ma hands had brought me to dwell for too long on tis illusion which is ma deluded vision of sumthin spesh goin on between us. I had enlarged it and have been overly sentimental over tha smallest thangs that I've always treasured about ya which might not be acts of love afterall. You might have never cared.

portrayin tha irate caller
After spendin’ three hours every night tryin’ in vain to connect to INFOCOM, I fin’lly gave em a call once again tis noon to know tha real deal between ma card and its lousy connection. Was plannin’ on givin’ tha operator a piece of ma mind til a guy answer’d –a guy who sounded gay. Since I’m fond of gay persons, I decided to spare him & juz ask’d wut tha deal wit ma card is. Turn’d out that ma card had already ran out of credits after only one measly post in ma blog. Shock’d and dumbfounded, I mumbled thanks and hang up. When I had gather’d wits, I call’d again. Tis time a guy answer’d. An all-business-soundin’ English speakin guy named Andrew. He was not as efficient as tha gay & made me wait for ages before it fin’lly dawn’d on him to ask me for tha card’s serial no. etc. which he shud have known from tha start like tha gay or I shud have told him [had I known that was wut took him so long] to save us both tha trouble. I was civil to him all tha time. In fact I was infinitely polite. I politely ask’d if I cud speak to tha manager. [to which he said yes but made no move to hand tha phone over to somebody else.] I politely told him that their company sucks. And that I know it ain’t his fault that it does but maybe he shud think of workin’ for a better company, say mebbe a good call center. And also politely told him I gave their company bad press since I wrote all ‘bout it here. And he juz listen’d at tha other line, not breathin & takin it all in & then I felt a bit guilty but not so much since I was polite all tha time and practiced tha rules of etiquette. [I think]. Was I a bitch? Am not even pms-ing.

Today I got laid. There. Did that shock you? Shall I repeat it? I GOT SOME today. I GOT LAID. Of course I diden, you say. How could I? I have NO ONE TO DO IT WITH. I have STRICT PARENTS. And above all, I DON’T GO OUT OF THE HOUSE ALONE. Okay, so I’m juz trippin’. I DID NOT get laid. But suppose I did? It had juz occurred to me that GETTING LAID is the absolute BANE OF MY EXISTENCE. Ma parents seem to have gotten it in their head at a very early age [around tha time I was born] that EVERY GUY WANTS TO SLEEP WIT ME. Or mebbe it’s I WANT TO SLEEP WIT ANY GUY. Ergo tha CHAPERONED TRIPS to any place ‘cept when I’m wit RUTH, ma GIRL friend WIT THA CAR. As much as possible, they want me to STAY AWAY from places that have GUYS in it. And every otha sentence outta em parental mouths begin wit “Diba ANDAMING LALAKE don..?” [Aren’t there gonna be a MAJORITY OF GUYS in that place…?] So I lead a very BORING and very ANTI-SOCIAL LIFE because of tis FEAR OF FUCKIN’. And then there’s also tha case of JOB & MONEY which may or may not be connected wit tis NOT GETTING LAID biz. For some time now, I git tha vague impression that THEY DON’T WANT ME TO GIT A JOB. In that way, I’ll be FOREVER INDEBTED TO EM. I think they also hate tha fact that I am a VERY UNPUNISHABLE CHILD. Like when I’m in ma PARENTAL DISOBEDIENCE mode, they cannot punish me by GROUNDING me [how dya ground someone whos alwez at home?] or THROWIN’ INSULTS AT ME [which don’t seem to affect me] or SLAPPING ME [see tha latter], or even LOCKING ME UP IN A VERY DUSTY ROOM wit spiders & rats for tha night like they did some time ago. [They thought I’d BEG FOR THEIR MERCY and BE AT THEIR KNEES but I diden, I juz curl’d up on tha floor &slept like it’s tha most natural thang to do which got em a bit sore I think.] And they alwez complain how USELESS I am but me thinks they secretly like tha fact that I HAVE NO POWER OVER THE COURSE OF EVENTS IN OUR LIFE. Like when I hear em complainin’ to each other how our no-good lowlife boarders DON’T PAY THEIR RENT and how a number of em had even RAN AWAY WIT P5000+ WORTH OF UNPAID RENT and then I offer to TALK TO THEM and nag em & beat tha crap and OUR RIGHTFUL MONEY OUT OF EM and I was DEAD SERIOUS but did they LISTEN TO ME? No, they LET EM RUN AWAY UNPAID AGAIN and had an angry parent told me I HAVE NO RIGHT TO INTERFERE WIT THA SUPERVISION OF THINGS [pamamalakad ng buhay] told in such a fashion that reads like WE CAN’T STAND LISTENING TO YOU and WE CAN’T ENTERTAIN THA POSSIBILITY THAT YOU’RE RIGHT simply because you are JUST A DESCENDANT and I AM THA PARENT therefore I AM ALWAYS RIGHT and YOU ARE ALWAYS WRONG and YOU HAVE NO POWER OVER ANYTHING because you CAN’T POSSIBLY KNOW WHAT YOU’RE SAYING, YOUNG AND DUMB as you are.

“Welcome… The postpaid and the Warpspeed networks are currently experiencing some problems. We’re sorry for this but please try again later.” Try wut? Connecting? Calling? And why are they hidin’ behind an answerin’ device anyway? Can’t handle too many irate customers callin’ their stoopid hotline? Mebbe their answerin’ personnel is defective too. And when I fin’lly reach’d a real person on tha other line? It turn’d out to be a rocket scientist who tried to divert online traffic by instructin’ me to dial an out-of-service number instead. Warpspeed Infocom has got to be tha worst prepaid internet card I had ever wasted ma hard-begg’d money on. I had connected but once only and even that took me eons & a set of unflattering eye bags to attain. Tsk tsk! Bulok talaga! Lugi!

Tha Official Disk Space Deficit Allocator
Yup. That’s ma new job description. I am now sole organizer of tis special project call’d SOC [Save Our Computer] which hereby entails me to devote all ma workin’ resources to tis vital task. It requires me to go through all files in all folders of our computer, check fo’ files that look suspiciously similar and then discard tha smaller file/s & leave tha revised file/s alone. I am also tasked to excruciatingly open all jpeg files in Adobe to edit each one & reduce it to tha low quality of 1 before savin’ em again to replace them old selves. As tha “ODSDA”. I also hafta delete stoopid files that won’t open anyway and games which tha “ODSDA” don’t remember tha brother playin’ anymore. ‘F course tha “ODSDA” takes entire responsibility for her actions and is prepared fo’ any sudden punches that may be thrown her way by tha brother Tha Great Oppressor, and is likewise prepared for Room Disruptions and Collisions of Personal Belongings to the Floor. Bein’ “ODSDA” means I also hafta resist tha urge to delete dumb & pointless lookin’ files which may actually be deem’d priceless & irrevocable to others juz like tha scann’d picture of tha back of some certain person’s mobile I found along wit many other abnormal files. Compensation comes back in tha form of more disk space fo' ma growing number of mp3's and less occurrence of crashdowns & otha pc misfits.

Saturday
Judgin' from tha amount of insults & cuss words thrown at me by paver, I must've hit a sore spot on his grumpy nerves when I gave him & maver a piece of ma mind after they gave me theirs. Why they want me to stay wit em 24/7 is beyond me since they can't even stand me[as maver vocally 'spress'd minutes ago]. Can't even blog in peace witout one of em spyin' on me. She is lookin' over ma shoulder juz as he had been yesterday, tha other day and whenever they feel like I'm up to sumthin'. Tis quote by Atwood fits em to a T:
"Genial, brutal parents, up to their necks in collusion, determined on the rightness of their choices, in everything."
And anotha one:
"The old wish the young well, but they wish them ill also. They would like to eat them up, & absorb their vitality, and remain immortal themselves."
For some reason tis duzen seem to post.. Guess blogger's down again. Damn. Juz like moi.

Hez Juz A Li'l Unwell
Sunday got ma bro behavin' odd. He wuz actually bein' nice. He actually lent me money he cud've spent himself coz I've forgot mine in tha car. And he duzen seem to be embarass'd to be seen wit me. In fact, before we part to look at diff'rent stuff, he pull'd ma arm and took me on a remote-control trip as in we took turns turning off/crankin' up tha volume of every TV we pass by wit tha use of his mobile phone.

me & brover