I was tagged by Juice. I'm usually too lazy to do these blog memes, but I haven't posted anything in days, so I guess I'll give this one a go.

1. What was I doing 10 years ago?

I was just starting my freshman year in college and discovering the joys of cutting classes.

2. What are five things on my to-do list today?

I don't have five things on my to-do list. I'm a bum. I do whatever I feel like doing.

3. Snacks I enjoy:

A better question would be: What snacks don't I enjoy?

4. Places I've lived:

I've lived in Metro Manila for most of my life. I spent four years of my early childhood in Douliou (back when it was not yet a city) and another three years in Taipei. I was in Yokohama for six weeks a few years ago.

5. Things I'd do if I were a billionaire:

I have a serious answer for this one. I would do what Mark Cuban did when he got his billion bucks: buy an NBA franchise.

It would be so much fun to sit behind the bench and bury my face in my hands as my team chokes at the first sign of pressure. Oh wait, that's just Mark Cuban's idea of fun. My team wouldn't suck as much as his does.

6. People I want to know more about:

Lord Jesus. And Lord Xenu. And of course the people I'm tagging (in alphabetical order): Carnifex, Lizz, Neko-chan, Paolo, Philos.

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.

On my way to Philos's birthday dinner last Friday, I came to a stop at a traffic light along Ortigas Avenue. As luck would have it, I was right beside an open manhole.

I should have just ignored it. Open manholes aren't uncommon around here--thieves regularly steal manhole covers and sell them as scrap metal. But I suddenly remembered a funny true story. A few years ago, someone I know fell into one such hole while wading through a flooded Binondo street on a dark rainy night. (He didn't die, so it's okay to laugh at him.)

I decided to blog about that, so I rolled down the window and took a picture. That turned out to be a bad move. Apparently, this particular manhole is right above the sewers. And I'm sure you know what's in the sewers. I desperately tried to close the window, but it was too late. Within seconds, my car was filled with the stench of rotting poop straight from Satan's concrete anus, and my Friday evening was off to a stinky start.

In full panic mode, I opened the passenger side window in an attempt to let the smell out. That turned out to be yet another bad move. The old SUV beside me quickly pumped its sooty exhaust fumes straight in. Again, the stupid power window wouldn't close fast enough.

By now, I was gagging and gasping while my poor nostrils were being assaulted by both natural and artificial stink gases. Where are those sampaguita-selling street urchins when you need them?

In the end, I buried my face in my left armpit and sniffed the deodorant until the traffic light turned green. I think I got a little high from that, but at least I didn't pass out. Yay.

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.

Question of the day: if you take a 30-minute nap at 11 PM and wake up six hours later, can you still legally call it a nap?

Yes, yes, I took a nap at 11 PM last night. I know that sounds stupid, but I was very tired, okay? It had been a long day. Well, not really, but it felt long because I only had around an hour of sleep before waking up at 8 AM to catch game 6 of the unexpectedly exciting Celtics-Hawks series.

In the afternoon, rain started pouring down moments after ArsenaL and I got to flag football practice late. Well, that sucked. And I was so eager to get back on the field after a three-week hiatus. I badly needed the exercise; my "beer" belly ("beer" is in quotes because I don't even drink beer) seems to be growing a bit more each day. It would have been fine if not for the fact than I'm as thin as a stick, and my bulging belly makes me look like an Ethiopian orphan (totally not cool unless Angelina Jolie would adopt me). The last thing I need is adding body image issues to my long list of mental problems.

Anyway, we watched Iron Man at SM Megamall and had dinner at Teriyaki Boy. I hadn't watched a movie at Megamall in years, and I'm happy to report that the place still sucks ass. They have the most uncomfortable seats with strangely sticky armrests (please let that be just a result of spilled soda... please).

I got home at around 10:30 PM and quickly got drowsy. So I set the alarm on my cell phone to go off in 30 minutes and plopped down face first on the bed. I was asleep in seconds.

I've recently replaced my cell phone's ugly rubber casing with a smooth plastic one. It looks great, but it also made the phone a bit slippery. The thing now slides randomly across my night table whenever it vibrates, which is what happens when the alarm goes off. Last night, as I sleepily groped around in an attempt to chase it down and stop the alarm, I apparently managed to somehow hit the remote control of my air conditioner enough times to turn the temperature all the way down to 16°C. Brrr.

At a little past 5 AM, I woke up shivering like an Ethiopian orphan with malaria. I had to run and make myself a steaming cup of instant coffee, which is quite a silly thing to do on a summer morning. But I'm all warmed up now, and I feel great. That 30-minute nap really did the trick.

* * *

(Whee! Snowflakes!)

Fuck! I knew it! Iron Man has a bonus scene after the end credits! Can't believe I missed it. Fuck.

* * *

(Yes, those are ASCII snowflakes. I'm a geek.)

Mica made a nice "tribute" video from iBlog4 chicken pictures, and I stole it. Yay! Go watch.

Last weekend, while browsing through the organic soaps section in one of the local health and beauty shops here, I stumbled upon Dr. Bronner's Magic Soaps. I think it was the colorful appearance of the bottles that attracted my attention.

I picked up a bottle for a closer look. Hmm... "18-in-1 Hemp Almond Pure-Castile Soap"... whoa! HEMP?!! Is that the same hemp known by other names like mary jane, hashish, grass, weed, pot, ganja, dope?!!

I mean, I know this stuff can also be used for medicinal purposes. I think I read it somewhere and also saw it on CSI:Miami where Delko bought some illegally for his cancer-stricken sister. (Oh and Horatio is marrying the sister in the next episode I think.) But it's quite surprising to find the stuff freely accessible in a liquid soap when a TV cop had to get it the hard way.

Anyway, I bought one because I thought it smelled good (or was that the drug kicking in?). When I got home, I continued reading some of the finer prints on the label and realized that this Dr. Bronner dude must have been smoking his soaps. It was quite an interesting read. Here are some of my favorite lines:

- Clouds when cold. (What?)
- If Cap Clogs, Poke It. (That sounds dirty.)
- Do Not Squeeze Bottle and Shoot Out Soap. (That sounds dirty too.)
- Absolute cleanliness is Godliness! (That doesn't sound dirty... just stupid.)
- To simplify & enjoy life more, dilute 1/2 oz... (... and smoke it?)
- Enjoy body rub to stimulate body-mind-soul-spirit. (What's the difference between soul and spirit?)
- Within 9 minutes you feel fresh and clean. (Really? 9 minutes? How did he figure that out?)

Want to torture yourself with the whole thing? Here you go (163 KB). There's an even longer and more confusing version (957 KB) on Dr. Bronner's website, where I also saw his picture... which confirmed my theory about him smoking his magic hemp soap.

So I followed the instructions and diluted the soap in hot water, dipped my towel in, and applied it on my face. I waited 9 minutes and didn't really feel any different. My face felt a little cool, but I couldn't define that as fresh since it was obviously just cold air hitting my warm face.

Oh, and I didn't find out all the 18 ways of using the soap. Maybe next time I'll try using it undiluted and see whether any magic feeling appears.

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 [at] chickenmafia [dot] 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.

I rely on three alarm clocks to wake me up on most mornings. Yesterday, all three of them failed me.

And the timing couldn't have been worse. I was supposed to attend PhilNITS's annual general assembly from 10 AM to 5 PM. Normally, I'm not a fan of 7-hour-long meetings, but they were doing this one in a nice 5-star hotel, so I imagined that the food must be pretty good. I was really looking forward to it, and I was devastated when I woke up to a silent room a few minutes before noon. I apparently managed to switch all the alarms off without remembering a thing. Yay.

Here, meet my useless alarm clocks.

Alarm clock #1 isn't really an alarm clock--it's a Nokia 6230i. It's a nice phone, but the alarm clock feature sucks. I put it on the night table beside my bed, and when the time comes for me to wake up, the thing buzzes and chirps gently. I think it has been more effective at giving me brain cancer than waking me up.

Alarm clock #2 is a boring old-fashioned one. I stole it from my mother last year after I "accidentally" pushed my noisy old clock off its perch and killed it. This one works by endlessly repeating a very annoying tune, which is now forever stuck in my head. I sometimes catch myself humming the melody in the shower, and that makes me feel very ashamed.

Alarm clock #3 looks like a toy dragon. I saw it in a night market in Hong Kong a few years ago and decided to buy it for my sister because it's cute and, more importantly, cheap (probably made in China). My sister gave it back to me last Christmas after I asked for a loud alarm clock as a gift... cheapskate karma works in mysterious ways. Anyway, the dragon clock almost scared me to death the first time I used it. First it blares out some obnoxious music, then it shouts something in Cantonese, which happens to be the most annoying language on the planet. Because it's so loud and scary, this alarm clock never failed to send me scrambling out of bed to shut it up... until yesterday.

I put together this short clip of all three alarm clocks for you so that you can understand what I go through everyday. Enjoy.

On Christmas Day, a tiger escaped from the San Francisco Zoo and killed a teenager before being shot dead by cops. Now, investigators are saying that the victim might have taunted the tiger by dangling a leg over the moat. If that's true, the kid deserved to die deserves a Darwin Awards nomination. Messing with one of the most powerful beasts in the world probably isn't a smart thing to do.

I saw the story on CNN while channel surfing this morning. True to its love for hysterical sensationalism, CNN alternately flashed the phrases "TIGER ATTACK" and "PREYING ON PEOPLE" on the lower-right corner of the screen. Oh no! Scary! Run for your lives, people! Run!

I didn't have to run for my life during my own close encounter with a tiger a few weeks ago at Zoobic, supposedly the only tiger safari in the Philippines. Before we boarded the jeep that would take us to the tigers, our tour guide kept trying to sell us a chicken. She said that we would get the tigers to jump on the roof of the jeep if we have a yummy dead chicken as bait, and that the whole experience would totally suck without it. At the last second, Philos decided to pay up, and a guy got in the jeep with a dead chicken in a bucket. No, he's not Colonel Sanders... just a nameless chicken guy.

We quickly came across some tigers resting under a tree. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to be in the mood for food. How can I describe the demeanor of those lazy jungle cats? Oh, I know. Have you ever ordered too much food when you eat out with your friends? The meal is almost over, and you're all leaning back with your bellies bulging. There's still one last piece of chicken left, so you pass the plate around, but no one wants to touch it.

Our tigers were pretty much like that. They probably already had enough to eat for the day, and when our chicken guy waved a piece of raw meat out the window, they just looked at each other and went, "You want that last piece of chicken?" "Nah, thanks, I'm full." "Come on, take it." "I said I'm full. Why don't you take it?" "No, you take it."

Finally, one tiger came over and gently licked and chewed at the chicken the way a domesticated kitten eats out of your hand. What the hell? I was hoping to see something fierce--the chicken guy getting his hand bitten off would have been awesome. Maybe I should have followed my instincts and punched the tiger's nose to make it angry. Tigers are so boring when they aren't angry.

The chicken guy extended his arm out the window and tossed a piece of leftover chicken upwards. I heard it land smack in the middle of the roof, and I got a bit excited. This is the part where the tiger jumps on the top of the jeep, right? Well, not quite. The big cat took a long look and wisely decided that the tiny chunk of land tuna wasn't worth jumping for. Or maybe it just couldn't find the chicken. Stupid tiger.

Shou had the presence of mind to take a video of the whole thing. And I stole it. Here, take a look.

Here kitty kitty....

Yes, it was all over in a minute... 400 pesos well spent.