Stop Me.

I never thought of myself as dumb- well, occasionally yes but it’s nothing serious, nothing low-self esteem inducing kind of thing. I even had this weird feeling of greatness and that someday I could change the course of history. Not being stuck up or anything and having been a product of Special Education, I considered myself somewhat, well, special and behind my lanky frame lurks a certain genius waiting to be unleashed.

It wasn’t until my group and I mulled over our pathophysiology of Cystitis I grasped that other than my presence and the moral support that went along with it, I wasn’t of any intellectual help. I felt stupid, in plain English. There they were talking about phagocytosis and all I could think about was phago-what and whether they were talking Greek. Gee, where was I when everyone was taking anatomy and physiology?

It was a humbling experience. And a wake-up call for me. I realized I should cut off on my guilty pleasure of making fun of pretty people that had sniffed out too much glue as kids (read: empathy) because whether I like it or not, I’m one of them. So the next time I’m going to make an effort to stop those that are manifestly unfit from continuing their kind and join the Stop Stupid People cause on Facebook , I might as well think twice because stopping them also means stopping me. Stopping. Me.

the good, the bad, and the fugly.

Pretty faces, I believe are in this world to give visual community services of some sorts. Once they start hooking up with, say, those of the lesser species, they ante up their presence to higher humanitarian levels. Then I admire them for their bravery, if not bow before them for having the stomach to wake up every morning in bed next to a horrendous-looking creature. Such courage deserves a Nobel prize. Does that Heidi girl ring a bell? And she thinks Seal is sexy. Weird. But not.Having those fugly creatures thinking they're all these and that is.

Not that I'm superficial because I believe that inner beauty trumps outside beauty (well, almost) but once a fugly takes his/her perceived status to stratospheric heights without any concrete basis, I just want to take a mirror and stick it in front of their face and burst that Helium bubble of self-esteem.


Heck, Petra Nemcova is freaking hot but she doesn't say it. She even had an English douche bag for a squeeze. And yet there are still people who don't look good and have the worst attitudes! The least these fugly people could do is be at least kind to compensate on their lack of aesthetic value. Sometimes makeups just don't work, kindness does.

pornoholic anonymous

I got excited in going home last weekend because I've secured myself a copy of (gasp!) the Debbie Does Dallas... Again DVD. That's a remake of one of the most important movies in porn history. Turned out the insides of the pack contained some generic TV series that I couldn't care less about. Major Bummer. That almost ruined my weekend until I remembered that I had vowed to myself to limit my insatiable porn consumption. That's like Paris Hilton vowing to celibacy. Imposible!

If watching porn for n hours straight and for it to get in the way of my activities of daily living means addiction then maybe I am an addict. I'm not going to deny that. I'd like to think of it as my pain management. And I'm in great amount of pain, believe me. Once, I broke down, I grabbed a drink and watched porn. I'm OK after that.

When I was 14 I did some exhibitionism (but that's just oversharing). Let's just say that as a kid, I once wanted to act in one of 'em pornos. Who knows, when I finally lose my mind, I might. And you'd be like “fuck, that's my classmate screwing like crazy”. LOL.

'97

The year was 1997 and I was young. 10 years later I'm still fixated on anything and everything that came out that year. And I'm not getting younger, I tell you.

I bet you think '97 was synonymous with that sunken ship movie and its ubiquitous theme song. I can't argue with that- but I'd like to think more of happy thoughts, really. Like, Truly Madly Deeply from that gay guy and straight dude collectively known as Savage Garden who beat Celine's ass at the MTV Asia Hitlist. I couldn't thank them enough for that. They saved my eardrums! Then there was Shania Twain who sang her heart out through You're Still The One.. I couldn't get over that. Or her. Or who could ever forget Natalie Imbruglia's version of Torn? Now, who could ever forget that? Her surprisingly bearable monologue fill in the void Alanis left while on hiatus.

The year ended with Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls and Hanson ruling the year end Top 100. SO what if it was pop? It wasn't as bad like you think it was. I fucking loved it because back then I didn't know about shit. After 19 years of existence, Ive come to realize that the world is not really a happy place to live in. And all I could ever do is listen to songs from '97 because they made me happy. They sure did.