Hi, my name is Joyfulchicken and I have an anger problem.

Yeah, yeah, I know. A joyful chicken with an anger problem... how ironic. Haha. Yeah. Now shut the fuck up.

20 minutes ago, I was having a nice dream about a violent war between midgets and kangaroos when I was roused from my sleep by a fucking car horn.

The neighbor across the street outside my room--let's call him Mr. Asshole (because he's an asshole and also because I don't know his name)--honks his car horn loudly whenever he comes home as a signal for his housemaid to open the gate for him. That's normal procedure around these parts, but what makes Mr. Asshole's honking exceptionally douchebaggy is the way he does it. Instead of one or two short honks, he prefers to do a long continuous BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. It doesn't help that he seems to have a passive aggressive housemaid who often walks to the gate as slowly as a 90-year-old grandmother, perhaps to spite her asshole boss. Between those two clowns, I routinely get to listen to the sweet sound of the car horn for minutes at a time.

It's extra annoying when it happens early in the morning (hey, 10 AM is early... shut up) like today. I don't know what a gasket is, but I'm pretty sure I blew it at that moment.

I tried to cover my ears with the pillow, but that didn't work because the honking was so fucking loud. So I got out of bed, opened a window and tried to shout something like, "Hey, asshole, get out of the car and use the fucking doorbell!" But, with my throat dry from hours of sleep, all I could manage was some kind of a croak.

I slammed my hands repeatedly against the window, trying to catch Mr. Asshole's attention. Of course, that did nothing except making my hands hurt.

Defeated, I left the room and got some breakfast. As I angrily stabbed the scrambled eggs with my fork, I realized that I tend to overreact to situations that could be handled more calmly. But hey, rage is more fun than all that wussy zen shit.

Anyway, I'll go back to sleep now. Be quiet. If you wake me up, I'll fucking kill you.

So yesterday was the start of the Chinese New Year? I barely noticed.

Despite being cursed with extra strong doses of the tiny-eyes-and-pasty-pale-skin genes, I'm ambivalent about my Chinese heritage. I find traditional Chinese culture too restrictive for my personality. Why couldn't I have been born a Jamaican or something? I'm a free spirit, man!

There's one thing I like about being Chinese though: the exposure to exotic food that many Westerners would find disgusting. Chicken feet. Shark's fin. Jellyfish. Century eggs. Frog legs.

Mmm, frog legs. They taste like chicken. Really.

Of course, the Japanese are masters of one-upmanship when it comes to strange food. Frog legs? That's nothing. They eat the whole freaking frog... raw!

Mmm, frog sashimi! I want to try it.

(Speaking of the Japanese... you have to see this. They managed to make Jack Bauer even more awesome--I didn't know that was possible. But I digress.)

Westerners generally don't have the "everything can be food" attitude that we Asians have, as evidenced by how often our simple snack items make wimpy white girls cry and vomit on Fear Factor.

Bleeding heart (or, more appropriately, bleeding brain) organizations like PETA aren't helping. They're always going "we shouldn't eat this" and "we shouldn't eat that." Stupid PETA. Oh, have you heard about their new "sea kittens" campaign? PETA wants to save poor innocent fishies from being eaten by evil humans. But there's a problem: fish aren't cute. PETA assholes think that people will only be nice to cute things, so they came up with the clever idea of calling fish "sea kittens" to make them sound cuter and thus less edible.

Well, that's about the most retarded thing I've ever heard.

Hey PETA, I have another idea. Let's protect poor innocent frogs from being eaten by evil Asians! We can call them... something. What can be a cute name for frogs? Oh, I know! How about "swamp puppies"? Ha! No one would want to eat cute little puppies, right?

Oh wait, we Asians do eat puppies. Sorry, PETA. You lose again.

Hotel Sogo is a chain of cheap ass "hotels" where young lovers go to do naughty stuff. And it's everywhere--almost as ubiquitous as Starbucks. I swear, whenever I drive around Metro Manila, I see a Hotel Sogo sign every time I look out the window. That annoys the hell out me, and I'm not even sure why.

Maybe it's how "Hotel Sogo" cheapened the name of the real Sogo, a chain of big department stores with branches all over Asia. I frequented the one in Taipei as a kid, and I have fond memories of the place. (Or not... I actually don't remember much.)

Or maybe it's just the ultra-lame tagline that Hotel Sogo has: "so clean, so good." I understand the importance of cleanliness in a place where people roll around naked on the beds and spray body fluids everywhere, but Jesus, "so clean, so good" sounds so tacky.

To be fair, I've never been inside a Hotel Sogo, and for all I know, it's possible that their rooms are really as nice as the Photoshopped one shown on their non-functional website. And I have no evidence that they're not as clean and good as claimed. Still, the place just seems hopelessly jologs to me.

And, horrors of horrors, they're getting worse. Here's a photo taken by Philos from a train.

It should be "every day" and not "everyday," dumbass.

I almost vomited when I saw it. Is that their new tagline? My god! Also, that dude is totally a pedophile--the girl looks underage. And I can't get over how they spelled "Valentine's Day" with something that looks less like the letter A and more like either petals or distended vaginas. Well, if it's the latter, it would actually be quite appropriate.

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.

I just tried to unsubscribe from a mailing list. How hard can that be, right? Just enter my email address, click submit, and....

"There was a problem"? What the fuck? That has got to be the most useless error message since "Keyboard missing; press F1 to continue." And it's not as if I asked for something complicated. I didn't ask for world peace or a cure for cancer. All I wanted was to never see your crappy newsletters again. How can you possibly screw that up?

And don't you want to at least tell me what the problem was? No? Not even a little hint? Fuck you.

I'm usually a joyful chicken, but I do like to rant once in a while. You know, just spreading a little negative energy here and there. I think it's healthy. At least it is for me. Living things around me tend to wither and die when I get angry. Yay.

Going into random rant mode now... grrr....

>:(   >:(   >:(   >:(   >:(

What the fuck? That makes no sense. If I really can't read, I wouldn't have a fucking clue that I'm supposed to click there, would I?

>:(   >:(   >:(   >:(   >:(

If you're gonna make me wait 7 minutes for it, don't you dare call it fast-food. 7 fucking minutes! You know what I can accomplish in 7 minutes? That's enough time for me to prepare 3 1/2 cups of 2-minute instant noodles! 3 1/2 fucking cups! OK, maybe just 3 cups. Being the klutz that I am, I would most likely spill the third one and would have to start over. But you get the point.

>:(   >:(   >:(   >:(   >:(

What the fuck? Why are there tiny seeds in my seedless grapes? Yeah, yeah, I know. The English language is retarded. How can "flammable" and "inflammable" mean the same thing while "seedless" and "less seeds" have different meanings, right? But hey, if you're going to put an English label on something, better make sure that you understand what it means. "Seedless" means no fucking seeds, not just less seeds, damn it! Comprehende? Good. Now you know exactly what I mean when I call you "useless."

>:(   >:(   >:(   >:(   >:(

Oh wow, I think I feel much better now. Yay! I should do random rants more often.

:-)

"Writing for a penny a word is ridiculous. If a man really wants to make a million dollars, the best way would be to start his own religion."

    --Dr. Evil
 

It's the final day of our Scientology Week! For the past seven days, we've been religiously poking fun at Scientologists. But why them? It's not just because Scientology is silly--mainstream religions like Christianity and Islam are quite wacky too. No sir, it has to be more than that.

So what makes Scientology special (as in uniquely retarded)? It's the way they require the payment of steep fees for participation in their activities--"the only church with a cashier's booth" as one ex-member calls it.

And the spiritual journey of a Scientology convert is by no means cheap. Only the first stress test is free. The spending spree starts when you buy the Dianetics book. But that's just for starters. You are then required to pay more for additional courses and auditing sessions in order to clear more alien ghosts from your body and advance in rank. Profound mysteries like the Xenu story are only available to high-level members like Tom Cruise, and reaching the highest level would take at least $250,000... pricey! In other words, only four gullible fools are needed to get Dr. Hubbard his... ONE MILLION DOLLARS! Muhaha.

That's why the Church of Scientology jealously guards its stash of secret knowledge with copyright and a big team of lawyers. That's also why smarter governments like the ones in Europe recognize the CoS for what it really is: a commercial enterprise selling dubious products. Just a few days ago, the Belgian government was preparing to file criminal charges against the "church" for fraud and extortion. Happy Scientology Week, heh.

The CoS also hasn't been too successful here in the Philippines. As of last May, they only had around 50 members in this country despite having a local presence as early as 1975. Seriously, 50 members in 30 years? Even chickenmafia.com's readership growth is twice faster than that.

I think the Scientologists are having a hard time selling their "technology" to us because we Filipinos are cheapskates. Look, the dominant religion here is one that gives out free bread and wine every Sunday. Besides, with over half the population living in poverty, Dianetics books with hefty price tags probably aren't going to sell too well. Duh.

They may be stepping up their game though. They seem to be proselytizing more publicly, and they've been trying to push their agenda through charitable causes. With their deep pockets and creepy sense of determination, it's entirely possible that they could eventually become successful here. And if they manage to recruit Judy Ann Santos, we're doomed.

Believe it or not, our Scientology Week festivities are intended not just to ridicule but also to inform, because the best weapon against quackery is information. We need reason and logic to counter the increasing influence of Scientologists and other crackpots.

Left unchecked, today's cults could very well be tomorrow's mainstream religions. Do you want to live in a world ruled by Scientology? I sure don't. Hell, I'd sooner join a cargo cult than fall for L. Ron's moneymaking scheme.

Hail Xenu!

Nicole Richie is in jail! Yay!

Oh wait, she isn't anymore. She was released from jail 82 minutes after checking in to serve her four-day sentence for driving under the influence of drugs.

You can call a four-day sentence a slap on the wrist, but 82 freaking minutes? That's a joke. The whole American justice system is a joke.

According to the article, "Her time at the Century Regional Detention Facility was spent getting booked, including taking a mugshot and submitting her fingerprints, Holley said. She didn't reach her jail cell."

What the hell? She didn't even reach her jail cell? She spent the whole 82 minutes waiting to have her fingerprints and a picture taken? Yeah, that sure sounds like some punishment. I go through pretty much the same thing every time I get my driver's license renewed. Poor girl.

If you think that was harsh, just wait till you hear about the severe punishment that awaits Lindsay Lohan. After going on a high-speed car chase while drunk and high on cocaine, she got sentenced to a grand total of... one day in jail. Slap that wrist! Yay! Gently gently yay.

Let's see.... If Nicole Richie's four-day sentence was over in 82 minutes, then Lindsay Lohan's one-day sentence should only take around 20 minutes. Yay! I wonder if they'll even have enough time to get all her fingerprints.

Somewhere, Paris Hilton is crying and screaming, "Mommy! Unfair!"

Poop poop poop poop poop. Poop poop poop poop poop poop, poop poop poop poop poop. Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop (poop, poop poop) poop poop poop poop....

Poop poop poop? Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop! Poop poop poop poop poop! Poop!

Poop poop poop poop poop poop--poop poop poop poop poop poop poop. poop, poop poop poop "poop" poop poop poop. Poop poop poop.

Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop. Poop poop poop poop poop poop.

"Poop poop poop! Poop poop poop Poop Poop poop poop?" poop poop.

"Poop poop poop poop poop," poop poop.

"Poop poop poop poop poop?" poop poop.

"Poop poop, poop poop poop poop poop," poop poop.

Poop poop poop.

Poop poop poop poop poop, poop poop poop poop poop poop. Poop poop poop.

"Poop."

Poop!

---
Poop: Poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop poop.

So Johnson & Johnson is suing the American Red Cross... yay....

Whoa, wait wait wait. They did what? They did what? Are they out of their freaking minds?

Listen, Johnson & Johnson dickheads. I don't care what the American Red Cross guys have done to you. You can't sue them. You just can't! Suing a nonprofit humanitarian organization is a lot like beating up your own grandmother--there's no way in hell that you can come out of it looking like a good guy. Congratulations, J&J. You'll forever be known as the company that sued the freaking Red Cross. Let's see how your PR department spins that one.

What horrible crime did the American Red Cross commit anyway? According to CNN, they infringed on J&J's trademark red cross logo. Huh? Let me get this straight. Red Cross doesn't own the red cross trademark? That's so wrong. Poor Red Cross.

You know what they should do? They should trademark a double penis logo then trade with Johnson & Johnson. That way, each side ends up with something appropriate to its own name. Better yet, just drop the stupid red cross symbol already. Like I told you before, it's nothing but trouble.

Need a new logo? I suggest a red croissant. It's delicious and uncontroversial. Mmm, croissant. Now I'm hungry. Damn it.