Ice Carvings

This is a first. While working on routine paperwork filing critical to jumpstarting every Monday, something odd happened. Reaching in my drawer absentmindedly and without a cursory glance, i realized that i have achieved something that very few office folk experience. I ran out of paper clips. Seriously, how can one run out of paper clips? Staple wires i can understand, but paper clips? Is there anything else less regulated than these pieces of twice-bent wires? Has anybody ever been accused of hoarding paper clips even if they have way too much? Since everybody else was out at this time, i managed to swipe some off my co-worker's desk. I think when left alone, her stock of paper clips multiply on their own, so I guess she wouldn't notice. Now back to work

I'm hung over... From Ad Congress. Not from the usual effects of alcohol during the parties at the venue. It would take a lot of free alcohol to get me wasted... and i know a lot about free alcohol. I guess I also know a lot about being wasted, but that's just another blog entry waiting to happen. Seventeen years after I told my future first boss that I'll be pursuing a career in advertising, I'm still outside looking in. Back then when i was working part time as a cub writer, he never showed any inclination in hiring me full time. When i finally asked why, he told me he was expecting me to follow my declaration of going into agency work. When i told him I'm not really in a hurry, he hired me on the spot. Seventeen years of work involving writing followed. Macs, mainframe software, advocacy, company profiles, real estate, mechanical engineering, drugs, and now beer and all its trappings. On top of my regular job at PR and whatever the hell is it i'm supposed to

having prided myself with never having to file for sick leave my whole career here at the Escudo, a couple of bacteria and/or viruses banded together and beat the crap out of me via low risk pneumonia. Which prevented me from going on a trip to Cebu, and prevented me from doing my annual tradition as live score guy at the Beer Drinking finals, and from getting drunk in a Visayan crowd. 4 years and 4 months later, i had to seek the medical slip. some streaks were never meant to last. Having coughed out my lungs for the past 3 days, I'm not complaining. I already envisioned the mass hysteria developing inside the 9am MNL-CEB flight as soon as fellow travelers begin to sympathize with my symptoms. Despite the cocktail of drugs i was given as consolation prize, the recovery was slow as i was subjected to an incessant video festival of Elmo's world episodes, courtesy of new king of the Wild Things Elan. It's really hard to calm your nerves when you keep hearing that maniacal psy

ah.. 38 is such a special number. Ask Smith & Wesson. Half a month into my half-life stage and i still have nothing to show for it. IF my life would flash before my eyes prior to the collision, what would it show? Probably my last few PowerPoint presentations. I can hear the eulogy now... "He was a monster with those slides!" But I digress. I'm 38 years old. It might not be old, but that's not young. And at 38, life has beaten me into submission. Gone are the grandiose plans, the oaths to turn this world to its knees through a combination of talent, luck and ambition. The drive to write the next great potboiler, the next immortal poem, the year's best screenplay. Again, PowerPoint rears its ugly head into the visuals...shit. I'm not complaining though. I'm better off. And only because i worked my ass off. So now, bills are a source of amusement rather than a dreadful thing. Of course, this doesn't mean I'm rich now. But we'll get there. I&#

Was able to watch DVDs today, after letting my home theater lie idle the past few months. Brought out two big guns from my collection: Jarhead and Rocknrolla and mustered enough effort to distance myself from my son and escape in cinema. After a short stint at the supermarket and a brief dinner, I rolled out my new addition: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I should have watched this a long time ago, having heard of its charm, but lack of availability until today prevented me from doing so. It was total mindfuck. I was completely immersed in the film, wondering whether this scene was all in the mind, a real occurrence, or a fantasy projection. And it had me thinking if ever such technologies existed, would you dare to wipe your memory of certain persons completely to erase the bitter taste in your mouth of previous bad experiences? Of course wiping out the bad means also wiping out the good. It turned out in the movie that wiping out memories of one person is not a guarantee of p

I just spent over an hour watching (intently if I may say) Animal Planet's Mermaids: A Body Found. The documentary starts with an interesting premise that US navy underwater experiments may have been the cause for a lot if whale beachings and that it may have killed a previously unknown species that is more man than marine mammal. Show then proceeds to give evidence to the existence of mermaids, complete with cgi animations to give us a look. Spoiler: they look like green avatar humanoids with fish tails. Anyway, I was hooked, and began watching more intently, unmindful of the fact that it was eating up my JackTV time. I even managed to have nel watch, which she did enthusiastically while humming bars from The Little Mermaid. I got hooked, especially on the conspiracy part where it seems that some agency was trying to shut down the team who discovered the mermaids. Even if they only have sound recordings and a partially digested specimen. Then, during the end credits, all was revea

Honestly, why do some people end their request with some asinine clincher such as: "Sige na. Pogi ka naman eh." I know it's supposed to be flattering at face value (especially if you aren't unattractive), but that statement poses a lot of unanswered questions: 1. Does that mean the asking party acknowledges he/she is unpretty, and thus his/her disadvantage requires more attractive people give in to their request? 2. Does that mean good looks beget compassion? 3. Are ugly people supposed to get what they want from better looking ones (I can imagine the sex implications on this one)? 4. Are the merits of the request secondary to appearance of the requester? 5. Aren't I supposed to be working instead of asking these questions? I guess I'll just leave it to this dude for the final word: "It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness." - Leo Tolstoy Epilogue: Wouldn't it be more exciting if we expand the concept use the same devic

writing while watching top chef, downing shots of Chivas, and smoking an e-cigarette somehow doesn't work all that well. I can almost hear the judges of top chef giving me a rejoinder: just desserts telling me: "The idea was there, but i think you should have thought of this more..." i blow a large billow of vapor (not smoke i guess)... the hell with it. I have no expectations at this point, and the 3rd shooter is making its way to my consciousness. A newspaper article earlier kinda hit home: February seemingly breezed by 2011, and here i am, trying to come up with a blog entry at the homerun stretch. 2011 has been very kind to me, as opposed to that callous, cruel 2010. I really don't give a rat's ass about zodiac signs and horoscopes, but like a chinoy friend told me -- it's 50/50. And somehow, this year really was better - in the cards and in real life. i really just have to temper my expectations. but yeah, so far so good.

why is it so hard to find a bag of Skittles Chocolate mix in this side of the planet? I'm not even a candy addict, much less a chocoholic. But the idea of messing around with small spheres of S’mores, Chocolate Pudding, Chocolate Caramel, Vanilla and Brownie Batter is too much to resist. Arrgh. I have unfortunately tasted the forbidden fruit once, and it's not available anywhere i look. SM. Clark. Rustan's. Maybe if i try hard, i'll get what i need. which in my case, would be peanut butter candy. Sigh.