Ice Carvings

(as requested/ordered by the legendary gourmand KaI, who asked us minor bloggers to put in their favorite streetfood. I did away with the traditional fishball and chicken skin, and so it happened that my final choice made me a bit nostalgic) It’s not much of a story to tell, as my childhood was spent mostly indoors pitting action figure versus action figure, coloring inside the lines, conversing with Sesame Street characters, or reading any book I can find. My pasty figure and primary complex often exempted me from taguan pung , patintero , tanching , and other physically exacting tasks. Even if I get the luxury of doing so, I almost always have to have a towel placed on my back – superboy hiding his cape. I do remember the mornings where we children get out of bed and scramble outside the front door whenever we heard that bicycle horn tooting merrily. It’s not taho , not puto , and not even binatog … It could only mean the bote dyaryo man offering to exchange his cheese curls with any

Part 1: Fairy Tales can come true We’ve all heard the fairy tale. Dragon abducts the princess and imprisons her in the tower. Knight (latest of a series) travels far and wide to rescue the princess. Mind you, not just rescue. Damn asshole has to show the block he’s a man and slay the dragon. For most of you kiddies out there, end of story. Happy ever after. “Marry my daughter, says the king, and I’ll throw in a free kingdom to boot!” As I grew older, I realized I never was the knightly type. Armor chafes me, and charging at an immortal being that is known for being captivating, wise, and powerful… Why would you do that? And what are the odds? A typical fairy tale’s final score would end with Knights 100, Dragon 1. I can’t be one of the knights. And God knows I need a rescuing every now and then. ---- Part 2: The Knight Let’s hear it for the knight. Noble being, all dressed in shiny armor, and in actual medieval cases, is sworn to a life of celibacy. Or cluelessness. The objective here

so sorry i haven't been my usual self and haven't done much to add to this blog. i've been busy lately. i'm presently serving time under house arrest. Friday night to Monday morning, i'll be incarcerated at home with only an hour each day for sunshine, exercise and the car wash. having it washed earlier was a moving experience, especially for the car. Strangely, I was amazed at how some high pressure hose and some soap seem to have washed off not just the dirt but the sins of my past few weeks. From my car and from me. Each spray of the hose gave a calming effect on my nerves and my sanity seemed to creep back into me. My thoughts creep into my recent adventures and somehow, everything cancels each other out, leaving me just a bit tired but nothing else. It's funny that watching your car undergo a deep rubdown seems to clear your mind as well. Especially when i can't be bothered to read a book, or even write an entry lately. Work is already a killer, but im