Wednesday, May 23, 2007


can't wait for ISWAK II . . .

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Sense and Insensibility

Going to mass...

in a gold g-string.

Aerating the car... (is the proper term "freshening" the car?)

with those pine tree air fresheners.

Bojo Molina

Shintaro Valdes/z

Foo Fighters

Michael Learns to Rock

Dragonball Z


Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Jesus, The Party Planner (II)

Because I believe God has a fantastic sense of humor.

Me: What do I have to do?
Jesus: You see, sports fest is just around the corner, and . . .
Me: No way!
Jesus: I haven't even finished yet. I promise it's not gonna be anything like last year's fiasco.
Me: Fine, I want Philip, Bartholomew, and Thomas on my team then.
Jesus: I knew you're gonna say that. Did I tell you, old testament folks are joining this year? Hehehe. Samson's volunteering to be our team captain.
Me: D'oh!!!
Jesus: I don't even care that John's on my team, even though he has the athletic skills of a comatose patient.
Me: That's no way to talk about your beloved best friend.
Jesus: I didn't say anything mean. I'm pro-truth remember?
Me: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Jesus: By the way, don't forget to dress up for Sunday.
Me: Oh, right. I almost forgot about that. What's the occasion again?
Jesus: Another wedding. But don't worry, it's going to be fun. I'm taking care of the wine and stuff.
Me: Course, you are. (pause) Hey Lord, it's kinda late . . . and I have an early meeting tomorrow.
Jesus: That's okay, chubby bunny, I have tons of stuff waiting for me too. Anyway, you know my number, and I'm on my Blackberry 24/7.
Me: Night, night Lordy.
Jesus: Ciao babycakes, see you Sunday.
Me: Zzzz

Phone clicks.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Jesus, the Party Planner

The following conversation is based on a true story. (Translation: My system is filled with alcohol, and I have a sudden need to be irreverent.)

rrriinng, rriiinngg . . .

Me: Moshi moshi.
Jesus: Did I have too many sakes when I created you?
Me: Oh, hey Lord, 'sup?
Jesus: Err, just confirming if you can make it this Sunday.
Me: I don't know, I'm still undecided.
Jesus: I know. I'm omnipotent, remember?
Me: Then why'd you call me?
Jesus: Because I love pissy Mel. Pissy Mel is fun.
Me: Me? I'm not pissed.
Jesus: You are too. And you are definitely going. That's an order.
Me: What happened to free will, and all that stuff?
Jesus: Free will, schmeewill, You are going!
Me: Fine, fine. Is Mary gonna be there?
Jesus: Yes, and I'm telling you right now, if you throw that perfume thing in her face again, I'll...
Me: threaten me with eternal damnation?
Jesus: Worse, I'll let you have tea with Andrew for two months.
Me: Oh God, please not that. I still have nightmares about salmon-flavored tea, and sardine sandwiches.
Jesus: Weeeelll, being the fount of mercy that I am, I suppose you can do me one teeny, tiny thing. And then I'll forget all that business about taking my name in vain, and I'll even tell Mary to replace that perfume she stole from you.
Me: Hmmm.
Jesus: Well?

*post to be continued, creepy boss alert.*

Monday, May 7, 2007

I Am Not That Girl

"unra" unevbn,

ofa jqrc vc'b jfacq, v rz bfaal. rtcdryyl vc pryyb zn cqrc V qrin cf brl bfaal cf lfd. Cf sn qfenbc, V ufe'c yvxn lfd. Sdc cqrc'b zn snvep gnccl, reu lnb . . . wnryfdb.

V dbnu cf jvbq lfd qrggvenbb. V onyc bfaal sntrdbn V jrb deuna cqn vzganbbvfe cqrc qn tqfbn zn fina lfd. Zl jfayu ryzfbc tadzsynu jqne V ofdeu fdc cqn cadcq. Cqnan'b ef unelvep, V yfbc cqvb srccyn.

Ync zn wdbc tynra zl tfebtvnetn. V xefj cqvb jvyy enina anrtq lfd, sdc gynrbn ync zn brl V'z anryyl bfaal. Vo lfd xenj cqn bcdoo V uvu jvcq qvz, lfd'yy tfeunze zn cf qnyy. Reu zrlsn V'yy unbnain vc.

V cqvex V qrin ofapfccne jqrc vc'b yvxn cf garl. Zl zfary tfzgrbb qrb efc jfaxnu bvetn cqn ovrbtf cqrc jrb vre. Sdc V jvyy cal zl enkc garlna cf anoyntc zl anpanc, reu cf ntqf qfgn . . . cqrc bfznurl V jvyy bnn ofapvinenbb, vo efc oafz lfd, cqne oafz cqn Fen jqf snbcfjb partnb reu gdevbqznec ryvxn.

V'z bfaal V yfinu cqn jafep zre.

Thursday, May 3, 2007


The distance between two hearts cannot be closed by a prayer, or a mere song. It's not about feelings or intentions, or the intensity with which you express them. I myself do not know what can cause this gap to close. I am aware, however, that should I possess a perfect understanding of things that render themselves to imperfection, then I have already unlocked an important key to this puzzle.

Once again, I am letting curiosity get the better of me.

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

Look After You - The Fray (Live)

Listen . . .

I Hate My Thighs and Other Variations of Fat is Evil (version 2)

Last night, I was watching Tyra Banks yak about gams and cellulite. Of course, I was glued to the set. Two years ago, I was sporting size 0 jeans. Today, I'm lucky if I could fit into my stretch pants without butter or some equally oily substitute. What a cruel, cruel world. Actually my goal is to regain my 25" waistline before my 26th birthday this coming September. But I don't want to starve myself, the way I did two years ago. Back then, I was doing it for a boy, a boy who later turned out to be the worst type of jerk in the history of mankind. 10 pounds and gallons of tears later, I realized that there's always a selfish component to losing weight that most of us tend to ignore. Essentially, we want to look good. However, we never think of doing it exclusively for ourselves. We exercise because we're worried that someday our bodies will give out on us (boo-hoo for the people who love and care for us). We eat right because a wobbly ass isn't exactly a turn-on for the people we're trying to attract. We subject ourselves to a battery of beauty treatments because society demands that we put on our "face" before we show ourselves to the public. But what if, what if some of us can actually lead a healthier lifestyle, just because it's doable. I'd like to try that. I want to be the poster girl for healthy living, and I want people to come up to me and ask, "What motivated you to lose weight?" And I'd be like, "Nothing, I just felt like it. That's all." And they'd be like, "So you weren't pressured by the thin-is-in fad?" And I'll be all haughty and condescending, while I tell them to go fuck themselves. By then, I would have lost all contact with certified members of the human race. Nevertheless, I'm still gonna be thinner than these haters. And believe me, that's enough for me.