GMA and the Weird Repressed Dream

GMA and the Weird Repressed Dream

The basterd-ized version was weirder; it’s still vivid now. I’m somewhere in Malacanang, in a very small secret room where GMA and FG do their thing. There is a loft. On the other side is a long corridor and a secret door to the kitchen. I don’t know how I got there; perhaps by a small door from John Cusack’s floor.

The pygmy leads me on hand to the loft. Up we go. Up on the bed. She faces her back, removes her panties, and proceeds to have a butt-fuck. I do. I don’t know why, but I do. I won’t describe the others.

So after ‘the thing’ or ‘the act’, a party ensues. My weird friends come in. Her weird whores come in and we have a Party, like Peter Sellers. We’re all soaked with foam and drunk as hell, prolly stoned too. The drinks are lavish and sweet in cute martini glasses with a frolic of the umbrella and a paradise within. We were all lucid and this big orgy happening with the evocativeness of immeasurable delight. I was stamped with hedonism.

This—happened days after watching Coraline, and having a Recollection over the weekend. How F@#$@# I am.

rumblings and grumblings

<<<<>the worst rant--ever.

I could not have been the computer literate person or the ‘pc geek’, and yet my family relies heavily on anything electronic related. I fixed simple DOS systems, HD crashes, rebooting, formatting and the typical pc maintenance. The internet arrived and I was in the bandwagon for online music, films, zines, websites, and the surf-to-surf wall of an information era free of sweat (except for mousing and carpal tunnel-ing). And yet now, in the office, with a super slow internet connection, I became an old-timer, not understanding CSS, KSS, RSS, HTML12345, JAVA, FLASH, WEB 2.0. WTF. Seriously, I feel that I’ve been thrown out of the technological information wagon. I’m stuck moving browser tabs by minutes and all I can do now is stare, complain about the ‘super slow internet connection in the office’, and write—this nonsensical rant.

This has what the new age of freedom has done—made Us (I think I speak for the majority) impatient and at the same time creative in relevance to the nature of being slammed to the wall, and dead. And being alive again.

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The good thing is that here, we can store wine in the ref. I’m having one right now. I sing, Nakatikim ka na ba ng kinse anyos? (to the tune of ‘have you taken a bath in a sea of garbage aka MV’s super LSS song of the century ‘nakaligo ka na ba sa dagat ng basura?’).

In Memoriam

a couple of Reminders to Remember, you know, for my insipid memory.
o P-O-P-C-O-R-N Rules!
o 7 Secrets of Naturally Lucky People
o Brain Exercises
o For NZ, when I'm there already


For now.