Whenever I see a sale, I become a tad bit skeptical. Why are they marking this down? What's wrong with it? With food items, it usually has something to do with the expiration date. If the time frame is acceptable, I usually let my guard down and buy into the sale.

When I went to Duty Free last Sunday, I spotted a sign announcing a 50% discount for Lay's Potato Chips. So I could get a $2.40 bag of chips for only $1.20? Sounds like a good deal!

But wait! Why was it double tagged? Did they raise the price before offering a 50% discount? Devious huh. But I was one step ahead of them. I would have to take it upon myself to get my mom to buy a bag so I can investigate.

Hmm... Now could do I remove the tag properly? I decided to turn to the Web for help. This envelope steaming trick turned out to be rather educational though it didn't really help much. It also came with a stern warning:

LOLed at this. Actually, I just sorta hehe-ed at it.

With my patience wearing thin--which quite coincidentally coincided with the bag of chips running out--I decided to do the old-fashioned thing and rip the price tag out with my manly ferociousness. Okay, so I accidentally did this because I was hoping there would be chips left at the bottom of the bag. Still, it was ferocious.

Success! I have, with my superior sleuthing skills, discovered a conspiracy of the highest order. (Well, not really the highest, but that make me sound cool, and I like sounding cool.) I've finally proven what we've all merely suspected all these years. *eye squint* They actually jack prices up before they offer discounts!

They cheated us by... er... $0.15? What the?!! How much does that come up to? Not even P3.50 with the 50% mark down. Why did they do that?

Greedy bastards.

According to a friend's friend, all you have to do is print and present this coupon and you get a regular-sized tea latte free! And he insist that this is not a joke.

Now, while I'm not one to shy away from freebies, I think this one sounds suspicious. It looks like some Catch Me If You Can wannabe's work. Of course, sillier things have turned out to be true, so I've decided to put up a dare to any enterprising spirits out there.

The terms are simple. All you have to do is print the coupon out and present it at any Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf branch.

Possible outcome #1: You actually get a free tea latte. Congratulations! You get a free tea latte. That's your prize.

Possible outcome #2: It's a hoax, and you end up making an ass of yourself. Congratulations! You get a free tea latte. I'll actually buy you one. How to claim your prize? Just email a photo of your attempt to philos@chickenmafia.com on or before July 31, 2008. Include the barista in the picture and also tell us the branch so we can confirm that it really did happen.

UPDATE! It's true!

Now that the term of George "Dubya" Bush is nearing its end, we need to find a fitting memorial to remember his wonderful achievements. If Washington has his Washington Monument and Lincoln his Lincoln Memorial, Dubya should have one too! Why? He's the most celebrated president in the history of America! He has close to 23000 videos on YouTube, and he even has a website that chronicles his every word.

It is with this in mind that a group calling themselves the Presidential Memorial Commission of San Francisco started an initiative to honor the man. They racked their brains and exerted every effort to find the suitable memorial for him. And when they found it, they made their move--a move to get voters to rename their prize-winning Oceanside Wastewater Treatment Facility to "The George W. Bush Sewage Plant."

What a fitting tribute for a man whose verbal diarrhea was so pervasive that it somehow became his personal trademark!

Way to go, Dubya! You shall be remembered every time we poop.

Not all of you know that my dad had a stroke a little over five years ago. He's unable to raise his left arm higher than his shoulders, his left hand is virtually immobile, and he can only use his left leg to march, which means he walks in an awkward way all the time.

Now he recently acquired a car with power windows that will go all the way up or down with a mere flick of the switch. He wanted that feature since he can only use one hand. He figured that there's no sense wasting time waiting for the windows to go all the way up.

Last night, he went out with some friends. After dinner, he got in the car while his friends were still dicking around near the restaurant entrance. He grew impatient and did the following (in this order):

1. Flicked the switch to close the window.
2. Decided he wanted to hurry up his friends.
3. Put his right hand out the window (His left hand is immobile, remember?) to wave his friends to the car.

It was too late when he realized the stupidity of those actions. The window was almost all the way up, and he was not fast enough to get his hand out of the way. Needless to say, his hand got stuck.

You can just imagine the trouble he was in at this point--his one good hand stuck in the window, his seat belt on, and him sitting in an awkward way. He was trapped in his own car. He flapped his hand to call attention to no avail. He attempted to take a bite at the door lock hoping to get it to open, but he couldn't reach it because of the seat belt.

Then, in a moment of desperation and a rare display of flexibility, he got his right knee high enough to slam the car horn and honk it like crazy. His friends heard him and managed to push the window down and extricate him from his predicament. It's a good thing he wasn't alone in a secluded part when this happened or he'd win a prize from Guinness for the silliest way to die.

Don't worry, he's safe. No injuries to his hand or mouth--just a bruised ego.

UPDATE: I got my dad to do a reenactment this morning.

I've been keeping this news clip for about a year now, biding my time until the opportune moment.

Pretty confident huh, Mr. Bayani Fernando? But then Frank happened.

This is a photo taken a few blocks from my home. Permit me to thank the wonderful people from our local water companies for keeping us safe with that line of yellow do-not-cross tape. Now if only you closed that hole up last April when you were done with it.

So now, you're thinking, "A politician promised something he couldn't deliver? Big deal!" Well apparently, he promised the same thing two years ago. I'm not sure what that does to his presidential aspirations. And to think he has started campaigning already. (By the way, why isn't he getting the flak the other senators are getting? At least they don't use public funds to punish us with their faces. Anyone?)

Translation: "The use of the road-rail station is free (no fee)." Okay, why do you feel the need to define the simple word "libre"? Do you think we're all morons? And while you're at it, why don't you define "road-rail station" instead? Thanks.

Anyway, for now, I'll just practice my island-hopping skills in anticipation of the next flood.

Having woken up really late and needing to be at the office pronto, I found it necessary to take a cab to work yesterday morning. And that experience led to this post, which is also partly inspired by Dianne's (and apparently her clan's) new blog.

Allow me to present exhibits A to D.

Exhibit A is a broken seatbelt, which was among the first broken things that I observed. So inasmuch as I was in a hurry, this was one driver I did not want hurried up. I soon found to both my relief and chagrin (What can I say? It was a mixed emotion.) that he didn't seem to be interested in speed anyway. In fact, he decided to visit a gasoline station with the meter running.

Exhibit B is a rather hazy picture of his instrument panel. You don't need a dSLR photo to figure out that all the gauges are mere decorations. How he could tell that he needed gasoline is totally beyond me. Oh yeah, the photo was hazy because I took it while the car was moving to show you that the speedometer wasn't.

Exhibit C is a photo of his car radio, or where it's supposed to be. I wonder what happened to it seeing as he doesn't mind displaying broken gauges.

Exhibit D is a sticker above the glove compartment right in front of the passenger seat. It reads, "Ambulance hotline: 635-HELP." Yep, not very reassuring, is it?

The driver stuck to a leisurely pace the whole trip. Maybe he was mindful of the high price of gasoline and was trying to save a few pesos. I was really pissed off by the time I got to my destination--so much so that I was happy to leave him stuck in the hospital driveway, which was congested thanks to two armored cars, a few other cabs, and people in wheelchairs.

Smiling smugly, I headed to the elevator. It wasn't until I was halfway there that my satisfaction turned into consternation. My phone wasn't in my pocket! I did a Flash (or as close to it as I possibly could) and managed to get to the cab just before it pulled away. Thank heavens for handicapped people blocking the driveway.

The moral of the story is: don't take a cab if you're late anyway... unless you're going to blog about it.

I just came back from a reconnaissance mission, and it seems that the Chicken Mafia has serious competition. Now, all I can do is report what I've seen and heard, and I'll try to keep it short and to the point.

It all started a little over a week ago when Joyfulchicken alerted me to this seemingly innocent event, a supposed party for losers. But they weren't fooling me--I knew that only the Chicken Mafia cares about losers. So I did what any good soldier would do under the circumstances. I put on my human suit and went behind enemy lines.

That is a likeness of me taken by one of their skilled agents, but worry not my dear Mafiosos, I managed to steal the original and thus am the only one with the hard copy.

So here's the gist of the meeting as I understand it. David and Goliath, a shadowy organization masquerading as a T-shirt company, put on a party and tried to invite all the top losers they could get their hands on. Masked in a night of mad revelry, they systematically tried to win these losers over with various tactics, including the following:

1. A PowerPoint presentation with pure text and a maniacal voice over. It was obviously a means to implant subliminal messages in our minds. I have yet to undergo debriefing to find out exactly what they managed to implant in my head. (Video removed because of potentially harmful hypnotic effects.)

2. A game that necessitated ass kissing. (Okay, Mr. Fartface kissing... see if you like that one better.)

3. A losers dating game. What? A dating game? And not just any dating game... a dating game that included me! Sure, I'm a loser, but I'm not that much of a loser, am I? I looked over to Joyfulchicken for help to get me out of it, but he had apparently been brainwashed by the PowerPoint presentation. Abandoned by my comrades, all I could do was try to resist the bribes the evil henchmen were offering me.

That photo was taken at home while I was gleefully inspecting my spoils, so clearly I failed. Sorry, you'll have to check out these other blogs for pictures and recaps, because I can't bear to be reminded of my utter humiliation.

David and Goliath sure was crafty. They even employed goons from SPIT to do their dirty job. I was laughing so hard that I almost forgot why I was there in the first place. And their tagline is "we make stupid stuff so you don't have to." Need I say more? They're clearly trying to take over the world... or at least our niche of making stupid stuff!

We must find a way to defeat them... but of course not before I go buy myself something nice with the gift certificate they gave me.

Okay, I know the title sounds strange, but it's actually quite amusing if you think about it. I'm sure hundreds of ladies out there are looking for decent guys to go out with, and here I am, going to a wedding with no date. Allow me to explain.

(circa February 2008)
Bride: Have I told you I'm getting married on April 12? Can you make it?
Philos: You haven't told me, because if you had, you'd know that I wouldn't miss it for the world. (I know, blech! I'm that cheesy... can't help it. Plus, she's a really good friend of mine. Does that absolve me now?)
B: Okay, great! You bringing anyone?
P: Nope, nothing's changed.
B: I'll be saving you two seats anyway just in case you find someone.

(a couple of days ago)
B: Are you bringing anyone? I'm finalizing the seating arrangement.
P: It's not that I don't want to bring anyone. I just don't have anyone to bring....
B: Yet. Anyway, I'm still saving you two seats. See ya!

So here I am with a wedding to go to and two seats under my name, but no one to go with. I mentioned this to Joyfulchicken today, and, being the supportive friend that he is, he bet me a burger that there's no way in hell I can find a date in two days. I want to prove him wrong, so the wager is on.

Now I need your help. Can anyone here set me up with a date for this Saturday? If you know someone (women only... no dudes) interested in a free meal and willing to dress up for the occasion, just email the name and contact info (and maybe a Friendster link) to philos@chickenmafia.com before Saturday.

The wedding will start at 10 AM on April 12, 2008 at the Don Bosco Church in Makati. Reception will follow at Hotel Intercon.

Appendix A: Benefits of going on a date with Philos

1. You'll get a delicious free lunch at a nice hotel.
2. It will be fun because I'm a fun and friendly guy. And I won't be creepy, I promise. I'll be a gentleman.
3. You'll be free by early afternoon, which leaves you with enough time to find an evening date in case things don't go well (highly unlikely).
4. Who knows? I might just turn out to be Prince William in secret (or Harry, whoever is the good looking one--I mix them up all the time).
5. Did I mention the delicious free food?

So set me up please. And hurry... I only have two days.

UPDATE: Submission is closed. Thanks to all those who participated.

Last night, I went to a "singles night" party because a friend's cousin needed more bodies to fill the floor. For some reason I haven't quite figure out yet, she needs it to pass a course. Wow, some course huh?

I didn't exactly have a good time. Seeing as I wasn't likely to gain anything by being there, I decided to live blog instead. Well, not really. I typed my thoughts down on my phone so I could share them with you later. I know... I might as well have worn this cap.

Anyway, here you go.

10:00 Guess what? I feel like a dork.
10:02 I don't even see people. Maybe I'm in the wrong part of the room.
10:03 Well, there are some. Most of them are guys though.
10:04 I wish I've brought a camera so I can blog about how dorky I look.
10:06 I knew it was the wrong move to come alone. Not only do I look like a dork, I look like a loser dork.
10:08 250 pesos... guess that covers the 2 beers. I wish it's food instead. Hmm, I'm thinking of splitting. The girl who invited me ain't even talking to me. Way to go, Philos!
10:10 Now I see some transvestites come in with a group of girls. At least there are girls now. Some are pretty cute too.
10:11 At least I lucked out on the seat I chose. I'm sitting at the women's side of the room... a whole lot of good it's doing me.
10:13 Damn beer tastes like water.
10:14 I have a magic trick, but I ain't about to go and prove how dorky I am. (Here's where JC was trying to convince me to make a fool of myself to attract attention.)

After half an hour of sulking and trying to get some cutie to make eye contact....

10:47 They're setting up a dance floor of sorts. Apparently, there's going to be some dancing. I'm so doomed.
10:52 And now I lost my seat because some enterprising guys realized what a good position I had.
10:59 Now some idiot is starting to dance an idiot dance.
11:02 WTF! The only daring guy I saw--the one who sat with the chicks--is holding hands with a transvestite!
11:09 Sigh. Now the girls went down to the dance floor with a bunch of guys... small consolation that I got my seat back.
11:10 Whoa! Is this spot a chick magnet or what? A bunch of hotties just walked in and took the same table. They have gay escort too but at least not trannies.
11:12 Boy am I glad I stayed up here. The ratio just shifted 10 to 1.
11:14 Man man, never seen so short a mini before.

At this point I spotted a hot chick and desperately tried to think of an opening line.

11:54 Damn, I'm such a chicken. (Yup, this is me still figuring out what to do.)
11:57 I spoke too soon. The "hottie" I was eying is a tranny.... eeewww!!! Now I'm glad I chickened out.
12:01 Leaving now. Can't believe there's actually a line of people outside still waiting to get in. Imagine their shock when they saw a dork walk out.

Yes, I didn't get any numbers... not even a smile. And to think I was acting cool and stuff--well, as cool as can be managed while sporting a big backpack and wearing an "old person" shirt.

But I'm sorta glad I was too chicken. The only thing worse than not getting a number is getting a tranny's number.

Looks like Scary Iverson has found his match....

"Please! Not in the ass!"