August 25, 2007 at 4:16 am | Filed under the internets
I never really go to offline blogger events or “parties”, save for TMB celebraganzas, for the sole reason that I’m antisocial (what? Lololol). So anyway, having nothing better to do on a Thursday night (I lie: I actually filed a leave for that night for this “party”), I, with the awesome TMB monkeys + my “date” made my way to Taste Asia 2. Honestly, I had no clue what the event was all about; I just wanted to, like, be there.
The majority of the night was spent not socializing and just downing bottle after bottle of booze at The TMB Table. And several trips to the washroom which was three meters behind our table. WHAT A FANTASTIC PARTEEEEH, HUH? Too bad I was too lazy to go around and look for people I know/wanted to meet IRL (read: just one: Shari).
I did see Benj which was awesomecakes as I haven’t seen the guy since 2001, and I finally got to meet the sexy nomad Jen Mordo. I missed Liz, though, boo. Highlight of the evening was seeing Bim and Mikey fighting over Penny.
Mikey: Kunyari Bim and I are the last two guys on earth.
Bim: Tapos may goat.
Penny chooses Bim, huzzah!
Bim and Steel are gangstahs.
Me, looking like a moron. Chubby AZN cheeks explosion!
Photos swiped from Ade.
All in all, and like any night spent with the TMB kids, I had loads of fun. And now I seriously need to de-tox; no drinking until September.
August 21, 2007 at 1:51 am | Filed under camwhorage, mr wonderful
So I was drunk the whole weekend. I haven’t had that much alcohol in a while and to prove just how plastered I was: I’ve got a ginormous bruise on my ass (and several smaller bruises on other various body parts) from apparently falling off a sidewalk into the street before crashing into a car. And then I broke my heel. AGAIN. My poor lovely red fuck-me pumps, I was going to rule the world with you.
Quick rundown of the weekend that was: nutty weather, “Green dress! Green dress! Green dress!”, Eric Kupper @ Embassy (!!!), “Pok-pok! Pok-pok! Pok-pok!”, pure Absolut (Jesus Christ), Grey Goose, eating two McDonald’s meals, sneaking in Aa, waking up (still drunk) in an empty bed with Aa going through my cabinet, and itching to drink again. Except I fell asleep.
Route 196, Session Road, PH 9.0 (my Saturday night accessory), Sol de Espana, an overpriced bottle of Tanduay (450 bucks? Are you fucking kidding me?), Lomos, chicken, nachos, lots and lots of pizza, waking up at the Meatshop, wondering what the hell Allah was doing at the Meatshop and why wasn’t she at work (that took a few moments to register), 7-11 morning alcohol run, beer, making Drew proud by not falling asleep and entertaining the guests, drunk texting the mancandy, and waking up just as the mancandy walked in.
“You’re so ta-LEN-ted”, Meatshop, more rum, friends, friends of friends, Sienna College girls, a bangus tattoo, Una Sikat, corporate phone messages, Helga Bear, and streetside camwhoring at 6am.
And now I feel like crap. Alcohol overload. I’d like a carton of Nativa, some fruit, and about 14 hours of sleep, please.
August 14, 2007 at 10:25 pm | Filed under bitchin' a ride, camwhorage
Because my discipline and self-control (which were never really much, to begin with) can be likened to a two-dollar ho (cheap and easy. Okay, so maybe just easy) whenever faced with ice cold beer and mounds of cooked rice, my midsection is now disgustingly out of shape.
“WTF, did I swallow a keg?” pose.
I CAN PINCH AN INCH!
Beer. It’s bad for you.
Years ago, not only did I have a flat tummy, I actually had badass! swimmer abs. Of course, when you’re a 13-year old highschool sophomore surrounded by genetically skinny girls with numchucks for arms and legs, the 3 Ts (thin, tan, and toned?) go unappreciated (if not hated). Okay, so I wasn’t thin then; ‘athletic’ would be the more apt term. But I definitely wasn’t this fat.
I know there’s nothing more unattractive than unloading body drama on other people, so I won’t. But just to say: I do not have body dysmorphic disorder (Jesus, look at how ugly my belly button is! And my cellulite count outnumbers the population of Japan! And look how tight XXL panties are on me!)— on the contrary (and because I’m such a weird), there are certain regulation body defects of mine that I find cute. LIKE MY STRETCH MARKS. I think they add character. This is coming from a person who thought the same of burning cigarette holes into her Miriam College skirt (”Helga, WTF are you doing?!” “Adding character!” “No. You’re drunk.” “Yeah. That, too.”).
Tomorrow, I start working out again.
August 10, 2007 at 4:01 am | Filed under ditz drivel, made in the Philippines, technicolor lover
For no apparent reason, I am reminded of this time the best friend and I took on Pampanga on our own. Armed with bikinis, two days’ worth of clothes, Valium, and each other’s company (all you need in life, but throw in some cigarettes and rum in there) we made our way to a provincial bus station, sat in the front of an ordinary bus (so we could smoke during the two-hour ride) and started badgering the driver to leave. But anyway, not the point.
So this security guard comes up, stands on the steps in front of us, and starts trying to get me admit that I was Yasmien Kurdi from Starstruck. Or just anyone from Starstruck/a celebrity. And then the guard does the laughable: he pulls out a wallet-sized photo of him, hands it to me, and asks for my autograph.
Several levels of weird and crazy right there. Tell me this doesn’t only happen in the Philippines.
I’m feeling extremely irritable and territorial today and I’m trying my bestest to suck it up and remain pleasant. So I’m calling forth happy thoughts, such as how Mr Supervisor likened me to Avril Lavigne: like a strawberry milkshake with a shot of tequila. Amusing.
This is a couple of weeks late (and for good reason): …haha. Mr Supervisor reads my blog. Now, the face-palm awkward are-those-crickets-I-hear? moment only lasted, like, a day. It’s the omg-my-world-is-getting-smaller feeling that took longer to shake off. But what’s really a bother is the whole oh-noes-I-can’t-blog-about-how-hot-he-is-today-in-that-red-sweater-of-his-and-other-stories thing. See, I can’t even write properly anymore.
That said, I guess I should go shut up now about the whole thing.
August 4, 2007 at 6:23 am | Filed under joyful girl
…and you live in Avenue Q!
So liek ZOMG!!!
Avenue Q in Manila, yay yay yay yay! LIEK ZOMGZ YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!
The puppets who brought us such awesomest of awesomest songs like I’m Not Wearing Underwear Today and Everyone’s A Little Bit Racist and Schadenfraude! Live! I’m gonna see! Live! Finally! Something to cross off my Things To Do Before I Die list! They’re coming here! Yay yay yay yay yay!
Anyway, I’m eyeing orchestra seats, but I don’t know anyone who’s an Avenue Q fan (okay, that’s a big fat lie, I know a handful). Let’s waaaaaaaaaaaatch!!!! Let’s waaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaatch!!!!
Trekkie Monsterrrrrrrrrrrrr!!! iExcited!
Hi, my name's Helga Weber and welcome to my personal site. I'm 23. My first socio-political scandal will happen at the age of 35 and will include men, sushi, an African country, and lots of money. My lover is the greatest. 
