Thursday, December 29, 2005
This sucks.

It really does. It sucks even more to have to listen to a litany of advice and outpouring sympathies. I hate it. It isn't that its phony, just that it feels so automatic when its rephrased in several different ways in the span of a few moments. I decided to stop feeling bad about it a couple of days ago. My errant bouts of melancholia have considerably lessened.

And I am now veering to a more optimistic disposition, and not the blind sort either.

In any case, anyone who feels that their holidays are going horrendously crappily, think again. It's better than mine.

And I'm fucking serious.

Cheers.
Thus spake Irish || 9:21 PM || 1 comments

Friday, December 23, 2005
Lalala

Celebracciones for my birthing were eventful. It suckethed immensely that Anchors Away was closed for the day. Boo. I'm not about to recount the whoooole day. Although I will mention that no one got obscenely wasted. Not likely with one round of drinks. I had a Bloody Mary whilst Delis had a Mudslide. Victoria, silly poppet, didn't because she had no id. Nobody friggin asked. Poot. At any rate, each of us have discovered our current preferences - I like Margaritas, Fidelis enjoys Mudslides and Victoria the Bloody Mary. Ain't that a hoot?

Me and Delis noticed that our voices got considerably deeper after that. Funneh. Yeah.

We were seated too close to the stage. And I swear, that drummer kept looking in our direction. Creepy. Eventually moved for the sake of our ears, and got a seat outside overlooking a pretty decent view. Among things we discussed, apart from me making a solemn oath never to name any of my sons Lloyd (not that I ever had an inclination to) we've affirmed that our fuzzy christmas feeling meters are officially broken. The holidays blow.

There was the mishap with clam soup care of Magda, incompetent waitress extraordinaire. But if any of you poppets were curious, the clam soup was actually really good. We should have ladled ourselves some. Yeah.

Then other stuff happened. Hee hee. It's a secret (because I don't want to write it down).

Here are a number of things I've thought of that I can do.
* Sneak intoWatch an R-18 movie. -- Stop thinking it pervs. It's not my fault we have shitty MTRCB people. Idiots frickin made Underworld R-18. Ridiculous. At any rate, that disastrous business of our attempt at watching Love Actually will be no more.
*Buy cigs. --Not that I want to. Yuck. Smoking kills.
*I can be arrested. --As Mai randomly reminded me, of all things. Heeeey.

That's pretty much it for now.

I don't feel it. Ha ha.
Thus spake Irish || 9:33 PM || 0 comments

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

And ye, on the 21st day of the 12th moon cycle of the 1,987th year, the heavens parted and the planets dispersed themselves. The black hole then descended, and as it came forth, created cataclysms great as they were terrible. The wind let loose a frightful howl and then it was that the cosmos shat a nefarious blight upon the earth.

Thus, Irish was born.
Thus spake Irish || 12:00 PM || 0 comments

Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Die Facking Carollers, Die

It should totally be a new Christmas song. Then they'd have a new song to sing our household. If you were here at this very moment (and the past nights for that matter) you'd share my sentiments, I swear. They are currently outside, howling "Namamasko po!" louder than the actual Christmas Carol.

And people wonder where my holiday bloody spirit is.

What bothers me is that they don't put any effort into it. They just yowl the same crap song every single night. It's short and sweet, and pays no heed to tune or harmony. It's always the same - two or three lines of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' then it cuts right to the chase - "Namamasko po!" Again and again and again. Or if they're up to it, they add a constipated rendition of "Sa may bahay ang aming bati..." Blah blah. It's always the same band of children. Sometimes they come in twos or threes, always changing groups in hopes that they wont be recognized. Sometimes they come one at a time. It's a fucking sham. And if you ignore them, they'll persist and stay there for God knows how long, all the while croaking their plea for money. When I'm feeling crabby and obstinate, I ignore them. I usually hold out. But high-pitched squealing can be difficult to stomach after a prolonged amount of time, so under the orders of my parents, I give em two measly pesos. Serves them bloody right.

Christmas is for the children. Tch. Take that and stuff it up a baboon's backside. It shouldn't count for extorting ones.

I don't really wish them ill, incidentally. I just want to cement their maws shut.

See, aren't I all Christmassy?
Thus spake Irish || 6:18 PM || 0 comments

Sunday, December 18, 2005

I feel like my nose is literally about to fall off. Stooopid cold.
Thus spake Irish || 11:10 AM || 0 comments

Saturday, December 10, 2005
On A Highway To Hell

Today was something of a bizarre adventure.

So Hayan and I meet up at 12 to go to Gateway. Neither of us knew how to get there via car, although she vaguely remembered the route she took last time she went there. We got by all right, managing to find our way there without incident with the help of the signs. When we got there, we wandered around for a while before finally picking a place to eat. We ended up picking Cibo, which incidentally has the best iced tea ever. Seriously. Well one of the best iced teas ever. You could really tell it was tea (with ice, of course, and cream, I think). Yum. Anyway, so after that we puttered around some more, then finally went off to watch Chicken Little. Next we went off to meet Santa at Hayan’s insistence. It was amusing really, she was so child-like about it in an endearing sort of way. And Santa was adorkable too. You could easily tell he was Caucasian, he was so… well, jolly. And his face was red. Hayan and I were debating whether to have our mugs taken with him, and in the end, our nerviness won out. Um, yeah, we SO count as children. Yar. Sad, innit? But it was muchly amusing. Now I can tell anyone who’ll listen that Santa was our pimp. Yeah.
… That sounds wrong. I take it back. :P

By the by, I also found out that we have to pay to use Gateway’s bathrooms now. Ten bucks. So here I was expecting a bathroom of luxurious proportions. Guess again. It was a normal bathroom, not disgusting, not lavish. I believe the ten was for the mouthwash, lotion, alcohol and powder that were available for public use. Like I’d want to share toiletries with random bathroom goers. Jeezas, that’s how diseases are contracted… bloody. I was thinking of abusing the products in question, you know, to get my ten pesos worth, but some things just aren’t worth it. Now, in my opinion, unless a bathroom doesn’t have gold plated toilet seats, diamond encrusted faucets and a sofa, it’s absolutely criminal to charge admission. Dammit. It’s just ridiculous.

Mrrr.

Okay. Fast forward to the way home. I could’ve gone home via Mrt then, but since Hayan didn’t know her way back, I opted to go with her to Katipunan and get a ride from there instead. This is where we ran into a “spot” of trouble. Now Hayan had actually bought a map before we left, and I had texted my dad asking for directions. A few wrong turns in Araneta Center later, we asked for directions and allowed handy dandy map to guide us on our way. We eventually stopped for gas and asked for more directions. It was actually very nice, what happened next. A lot of the Petron crew was kind enough to help us out (though I suspect that there were a lot of them trying to help each other out because Hayan was asking, and Korean that she was, couldn’t speak tagalog). But they were kind, even wishing us ‘God bless’ as we left. That must’ve looked especially funny - lost Korean girl with me on the other side attempting to make sense of a hefty map of Manila. Hraah. We finally get on the right track and on Aurora Blvd. After a while we spotted the familiar sight of the Katipunan LRT station. You’d think our happy little road trip would’ve ended there, but alas, fate wasn’t exactly smiling on us. So there we were congratulating ourselves for finding our way back, we were turning left to head for Ateneo but we suddenly realize that any way to get there is totally blocked off by the abhorrent MMDA fences. Either we missed our turn because of the atrociously heavy traffic, or there was no turn. We ended up in Marcos Highway. At first we were all, ‘Oh hell, we’ll just look for the next U-turn slot.’ And we keep driving. And driving. And driving. And driving. After a while we were starting to get apprehensive, it was hellafucking long way. There was even a river at some point. Me thinking aloud, “Hayan. You do realize we may very well be on our way to Bulacan or Baguio for all we know…”
At that point we were both starting to panic - it was a long drive, the traffic was bad, the rain wasn’t relenting and it was starting to get dark. And we were lost. Not even good old Map was helping. It was funny and horrifying at the same time. A frickin road trip adventure. Although we unanimously agreed that getting lost was only enjoyable if there was daylight. Eventually, we are given a break and find a U-turn slot. We drive drive drive some more and see road signs. Ateneo was just a right turn away. We take a right turn. Celebrate and hoot like lunatics. As we go on we suddenly start to realize that it looks nothing at all like Katipunan. More badgering of ze passers-by. A U-turn, a bit more driving later, we finally find ourselves in the REAL Katipunan. More hooting in delight, only this time we’re in familiar territory.

Hayan drops me off at the place where I get my ride. Traffic still bad. Line of fxes to the last ride home uber long. In desperation I decide to take a cab. Competition was fierce, the taxis scarce. I gave up and shuffled back to the line. After a mind numbing wait with kind line people I finally get on a ride home. Two hours from Katipunan. And to think we’d left Gateway at around 4.30. I reached my lair at 8.

Sheesh. But strangely enough, I’m still feeling dapper. Mwahahaha. All in all, twas an eventful day.
It would have been a lot simpler had we commuted. But what would be the freaky fun in that?
Thus spake Irish || 10:49 PM || 2 comments

Wednesday, December 07, 2005
All that you love will be carried away

This used to be a lengthy post. I kept writing it in my head, adding and adding. However, due to unforeseen events, I kept finding myself otherwise occupied. As much as I'd like to go through the highlights of my eventful existence in the past week, I find that too much as happened for me to give a properly detailed account of the interesting episodes. Therefore, the past few days will henceforth remain a mystery to the world.

Unless a.) someone ventures to ask b.)I get really bored and decide to regale someone in the vicinity.

The title, incidentally, has been stuck in my head for the past week now, like a really persistent song. I really can't explain why. There's no particular significance to it, if anyone was wondering. I suddenly just remembered it out of the blue one day. It's the title of one of Stephen King's short stories. I can't really remember what it was about at the moment.

All of sudden, I'm slipping into the fringes of... well, I'm not sure. But dammit, this time of year is fucking depressing. Tis the holiday season and I'm not entirely riveted. Make no mistake, I enjoy them, but I always get in a funk when they're approaching. It just feels so goddamn lonely for some reason.

I love the weather, though. It reflects my mood, at any rate.

Postscript: Mulling over far too many things at the same time.
Thus spake Irish || 10:52 PM || 0 comments