Dragonboat

…5 paddlers…

…1 graduation…

…60 minutes jogging…

…600 reps land training exercises…

…4.6 kilometers non-stop paddling…

…0 problem…

"I don't stop when I am tired, I stop when I am done…"

No more drinking with single people

For Trini, my drinking episodes always end up with:

Number one: her laughing at stupid stuff I do before dozing off (i.e. Peeing at the laundry basket, dreaming i was still at the bar's toilet)

And number two: her furiously angry at me also for stupid stuff i do before dozing off. (i.e. not going home at a time a descent married man is supposed to)

I hate it when I get drunk. Especially getting drunk with my single friends. I forget that I am married and just lose it. You see, I have some sort of a "control" problem that I just cant fix, and it's been here since I've seen the beauty of being in an altered state - since grade school!  My parents almost grounded me (and tom actually) for life for not coming home after playing at a gig.  It's not coming home early that pissed them off, it's us not calling at all and telling them what's up.  That's also what the wife frowns upon (or better yet, makes the wife furiously angry that she wants to pull my eyes out through my butthole).  Whenever I'm in my happy drunk ass mode, I never answer her calls, I lie when I reply to her txts, and worse I forget about my promise to go home early.  I'm an asshole, I know.  And the consequence is she tells me that she wont allow me to go out again!  But AGAIN, she'll let me party and AGAIN I'll end up (always end up) abusing her compasion towards me, her alcoholic husband. Why, you ask, do I always shun away from my loved one's concerns?  This stuff just always happens that they've already figured me out.  I am a pleaser.  Well, obviously not to my family, but to the drinking buddies.  And I dont answer the wife's 35 miss calls because she might tell me to run home already.  And may even give me the cuss that I deserve.  I don't know actually, I havent tried answering yet, remember?

Anyways, I give up.  I can't continue living my life like this.  I have to stop being a pussy and JUST FUCK IT!  PARTTYYYY!!!!  Just kidding.  I wanna apologize to the wife for acting like an asshole everytime I taste the gold that is called SanMig.  I don't wanna make promises, but I'll try hard not to fuck around anymore.  Is my nose getting longer or is it just me?

For me, my drinking episodes always end up with:

Number one: me getting a huge hangover and end up sleeping the whole day instead of spending the weekend with Leanpot.

And number two:  me getting a bit (just a bit, OKAY?!) depressed because I can no longer hit on other women I meet at clubs.  Eventhough I forget about tons of things when I drink, I always remember to tell people, girls for that matter, that I am no longer single and cannot flirt around with them…unless…

Jungatsu Juyo

 Yes Lady and Gentleman, I am merely 3 numbers shy before my age disappears from the calendar.  So if you’re a math wiz, I just turned 27.  Except on February where I am only a number away, and on odd months where I am only 4 numbers…you get the point…smart ass.

We had a great long weekend.  The Parents and Tom went to our place to visit mostly Lean (and abit of us) and of course to celebrate my birthday.  We went driving around at daytime and I appreciated the value of having our own transportation here in the city.  It's been a while since the whole family went out like this again, and in my heart, I thank the Lord for moments like this…and also Muhammed for the long weekend (Eid-al-Fitr).  At night time, we drank at home with Dad and last saturday with Pangke and his school mates (who were too drunk to remember they speak tagalog fluently) at Pier One.  Woke up with a hangover to attend Sunday Mass at Macapagal and over ate during lunch at Seaside.  It was just so awesome because everyone was there.  I'd definitely miss another dragonboat competition anytime just to spend time (our remaining time here in the Philippines actually) with loved ones.

Just as I thought the day would end, Lean gave me his birthday present.  I haven’t laughed that hard in months.  It’s been 2 days already and he hasn’t taken a poop.  My mom suggested we give him suppository.  After a few, while Lean was watching TV and speaking loudly in his native tongue (gibberish), he suddenly froze!  And in a stance of a wrestler ready to attack he screamed “AY! POO POO!”  Sadly, the poop didn’t make it to the toilet.  Just what’s left in his little baby asshole.  I love that little clown.

Whooosaaahhh

I'd hate to broadcast this to the whole dabalyu.dabalyu.dabalyu (and my 3 readers in it), but since we're already "close" and we've been through a lot already, I'll tell it to you anyway:  I don't know how to drive.  We'll, I didn't until 2 weeks ago.  Trini's Tita, who's in the states right now, loaned us her car since nobody else uses it.  It’s a plus for me since I should already know how to drive before "Touchdown Australia" and a disadvantage because we need to save some money for again “T.A.” and having a car is like a having a materialistic girlfriend.  No money, No Happy.

I didn't realize how stressful it is to have a car.  Number 1 pain in the buttocks is parking.  I don't want to add parking space to our monthly expenses so we opted for the free first-come-first-serve space allotted for building visitors.  But it’s still inconvenient because I can't drive around and come back whenever I want to.  Number 2 is running costs.  The car is a Nissan Blue Bird two-point-fucking-zero Super Saloon.  And it just gurgled PHP 700 of gasoline just this weekend.  Plus the repairs which I don’t wanna fucking talk about.  On a lighter note, I was pleasantly surprised with how much a car wash costs.  Just a hundred pesoses for everything - shampoo, vacuum and tire black.  The wash guy was even surprised when I gave him a tip.  Or maybe I just don’t look like the tipper type.  But I’m still pissed, you know why?! I rained 3.56 seconds after the car wash.  I thought this kind of shit only happens in movies.  And lastly, driving itself is stressful.  You have to check the side mirrors.  You have to check rear view.  You should watch out for stooopid pedestrians.  You should look out for bicycles, scooters, tricycles and pedicabs who think they own the fucking road.  My profanity count is on its career high just last Friday.  WAAAAAAA!!!  DRIVING IS DRIVING ME NUTS!!!

Chauvinist Pig

When I paddle with the women's crew, I blame poor performance on the Pacer.

When I paddle with the men's crew, I blame the lady coach for poor and untimely commands.

When will I ever blame myself for being a sissy boy?  I don't see anybody else complaining, so yeah, I am a sissy boy.  And a sexist pig. 

To all my lady readers, sorry, I love your kind and I am a huge fan of your overall design, please accept my sincere apologies…AND GET YOUR B*TCH ASS BACK TO THE KITCHEN! AND MAKE ME SOME PIE!