RANDOM CHEESE FOR A BETTER TOMORROW.

November 2, 2007 at 11:59 pm | Filed under camwhorage, memes and such

Hi, my name is Helga and my face in that photo up there is what I usually look like when I’m in a good mood. Just in case you’re a bit stupid, I’m the one in the brown hoodie.

It’s Friday, I’m in love. Not necessarily in a good mood, not necessarily focused, not necessarily in tip-top shape.

SO ANYWAY, BECAUSE I AM PERPETUALLY DISTRACTED BY WARBOOK AND NOW, MARS 2025, I’ll go down Lame Lane and do a meme.

But before I do, a question: how do you pronounce ‘meme’? Because I say ‘meeem’ and if you pronounce it any other way, YOU ARE WRONG.

Appetizer
How much money do you plan to spend this upcoming holiday season?
— Um. My whole 13th-month pay?

Soup
What was the last television show you watched, and was it good?
— Euromaxx on some local tv station. It’s something I can watch in complete silence. Meaning: no running commentary on how moronic the show is.

Salad
If you had to paint the walls of your living room tomorrow, what color would you choose?
— My landlords are a couple of assholes and this is a lame question.

Main Course
Name something clever or practical you have thought of that should be invented, but hasn’t yet.
— YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD BE AWESOME? If goddamn workforce just did it’s fucking job correctly and be able to accurately forecast our call volume BECAUSE WE’RE FUCKING FORCED TO CUT OUR LUNCH HOUR IN HALF TO RENDER OVERTIME AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!

Dessert
List 3 things you would like to receive as gifts this upcoming holiday season.
— a Lomo Fisheye
— a taser
— a sunny day

I hate this job.

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MORE LANDLORD RANTING.

October 30, 2007 at 2:57 am | Filed under bitchin' a ride, camwhorage

For Halloween, I went as a lesbian.

Okay, so the truth is: my last-minute plans of going as a Girl Scout or a missing remote control were foiled by the lover and I making an adventure out of going to Mordo and Jen’s place down south. Meaning, we took the train and the bus and then hung out at ATC while waiting for someone to pick us up— not exactly something I’d like to do in a Girl Scout uniform or with two cushions stuck to my side. MEH.

So anyway, a blight to what could have been a perfect weekend (practically spent in bed, recuperating from the Juans’s awesomtastic Halloween party) with the lover: more landlord issues. I’m seriously sick of dealing with our two psycho landlords who are obviously determined make our remaining months in their building a living hell.

For the past eight months, my two housemates and I have been renting out this two-bedroom condo unit in the perpetually noisy Xavierville Avenue. Since we pay for the rent and the utilities, we expect to be able do as we wish. After all, it’s not a boarding house or a dormitory, yet the landlords lay out silly rules as if it were. We can’t have people sleep over without a written request (which is “not guranteed and subject to approval”) and we also can’t have visitors stay beyond midnight (a rule we continually and purposely break).

It was kinda tolerable, really, even though the asshole night guard with the faded blue uniform would ring our doorbell at midnight to remind us that it’s time to kick out our visitors. We kinda just learn how to bring in our guests in the afternoon and keep them inside the unit til the next morning. I was able to shrug off that incident when the nice guard went up to our unit to inform us that the landlords were planning on having the lover’s car towed, even though it was a Sunday and the shops downstairs were closed and there was no shortage of parking slots ANYWHERE. I was also able to laugh at and make a joke out of that time when the crazy landlord wife confiscated our umbrellas that we left outside our door for drying. I mean, Jesus Christ, how petty can someone get?

Unfortunately, I reached my limit when the asshole night guard semi-bitched at me yesterday, at 3am. You’re a security guard and I know you’re just doing your job and carrying out orders but you don’t talk to me in an arrogant tone and you don’t threaten me, saying that you won’t ever let my guest in— especially my lover— while you’re on duty. You’ll have the right to ban my guests the day you fork over money to pay for our rent and our monthly bills, you understand? As for the landlords, we’ll consider following their stupid rules once they give us our copy of the contract that explicitly states that we can’t have visitors past midnight, that we can’t have people sleeping over (because our friends are thieves and druggies and pedophiles and are threats to the building’s security and would rather troll the building’s three floors at two in the morning than spend time with the awesome inhabitants of Unit 2A *insert rolling eyes here*), that we can’t have people parking in the building (by the way, we were told before we got the unit that we’re entitled to one parking slot), and that we can’t leave our umbrellas to dry outside the unit.

GAH. I’d like NOT to deal with this crap, thank you very much. Three things about them:

1) We don’t have a copy of our contract. The first time Allah attempted to ask for it, they asked her why. The second time, they yelled at her.

2) They don’t pay taxes.

3) This all started because we wouldn’t bring our laundry to their laundry shop.

I told my dad EVERYTHING (except that part that I usually have a naked man in my bed during the weekends. That, and the fact that there’s a five-year old Chinese kid I’m holding for ransom stowed away under the bathroom sink) and he wrote down on his nifty to-do list: Helga, lawyer. I seriously hope I don’t calm down and turn soft because I would love nothing more than to ruin their family’s holidays by ratting them out to the BIR.

Comments (27)

HOW VOLATILE.

October 18, 2007 at 4:49 am | Filed under bitchin' a ride, camwhorage

Phony Issues
Valid during many months: With this influence, you have to show other people that you are someone to be reckoned with. Or you may have to defend yourself against an attack from someone, whether or not you have provoked it. This influence is most likely to produce conflicts, anger and resentment. The best thing to do, if a conflict situation arises, is to have it out immediately. If you do not find a satisfactory outlet for your energies at this time, you will be easily angered, resentful, irritable and quick to take offense. If you must blow up at somebody, make sure that you understand the real source of the conflict, so that it can be aired. All too often, conflicts occur over phony issues that are only symbols of a much more profound problem.

Quand je suis fâché, je me sens comme je t’aime moins.

Je souhaite.

Comments (9)

BYE, BABY CAT.

September 27, 2007 at 3:57 am | Filed under breaking up the girl, camwhorage

I was lying in bed yesterday morning, fighting off consciousness and willing myself to sleep (because it was, what, 9 in the morning and I needed to be up by 5 pm if I wanted to get to work on time?) when I heard my phone’s message alert tone go off. Because I know my sleeping habits well enough to know that it would take the Armageddon to rouse me from my slumber, I keep my phone a few good feet away from me whenever I sleep— if only to ensure that when the alarm goes off, I will be forced awake and out of my bed to turn the damn thing off.

So my phone sounds off and the first thing I think is “Oh wow, people are up Twittering early today”. I wait for the barrage of messages to come in, but that was it. Not the least bit sleepy, I unearth myself from under my comforter, kneel on the edge of my bed, and reach for my phone which was sitting on top of my pink plastic dresser.

It was my mom, telling me that Munky was dead.

Bye, baby cat. I miss you :(

(He was really my mom’s cat and she told me he went missing last Saturday and they were thinking someone catnapped him. My dad found Munky decomposing in our car port Tuesday, after being told by their laundry lady that she smelled something funny the previous day.

I wish someone just stole him from us, really :( At least he’d still be alive. Fleh.)

Third cat of ours to die. It’s funny how I’ve gotten used to the initial shock and pain of losing a family pet. I’m handling this better than that time when MY Bunso died, January last year.

Comments (17)

WEEKENDS MADE OF WIN.

September 18, 2007 at 4:44 am | Filed under camwhorage, joyful girl, mr wonderful

Just to be cute (and for kicks. And while dicking around Wikipedia), I answered the CAGE questionnaire. Simply put, the CAGE questionnaire is a method to screen for alcoholism, and I have nothing funny to add to that. Because my “alcoholism” and the nature of my drinking (I drink like I have a goal and that goal is the total obliteration of this body organ we call the liver), I realize, is not something to laugh about.

The questions:

1. Have you ever felt you needed to Cut down on your drinking?

Yes.

2. Have people Annoyed you by criticizing your drinking?

Yes.

3. Have you ever felt Guilty about drinking?

Yes.

4. Have you ever felt you needed a drink first thing in the morning (Eye-opener) to steady your nerves or to get rid of a hangover?

Chyea-ah.

Phew. That was easy.

Two “yes” responses indicate that the respondent should be investigated further [...] A score of 2/4 or more is considered “alcoholism.”

NO WEI!!!

So anyways, this weekend— like any other weekend— was spent ingesting absurd amounts of alcohol. From chugging down can after can of beer at Top Gear’s 3rd year anniversary party/car show at Tiendesitas to chugging down bottle after bottle of beer at JayJ’s last Saturday night (surprisingly enough, I wasn’t that blitzed: I came home before my housemates did, my heels were intact, and there were no beer or food stains on my white dress), to the standard Sunday Night Rum-cola Supreme with the Barbies. Again, I found myself not plastered plastered after about eight of us consumed several bottles of Tanduay. Either we didn’t drink enough or my alcohol tolerance is improving. I’m leaning towards the former.

I know it’s cropped and stuff and my neck and chin look weird (I was awesomely drunk and my face in the uncropped photo is a total oddity), but I super love this shot from two Saturdays ago. I must admit, though, that I don’t remember posing for a photo and that I can’t remember if we were at Pier 1 or JayJ’s when Drew took this:

MMMM.

I seriously need to take it easy on the alcohol and spend more time in bed.

Comments (12)