I Want to Write the Best Darn Blog the World Has Ever Seen...  

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...but i'm too darn tired to think right now!

Okay so I got my arm repeatedly punctured by inked needles again today. It's almost done and I'm happy with the tattoo, but I swear my tattoo artist Wai is gonna be the last man I'll allow to hurt me like this! I'm ignoring the fact that the previous sentence sounded so gay.

I rendered 4 hours of rest day OT. Yes, you read it right. I went to work on my day off. I still can't believe I used those words in a way that actually made sense. Go figure.

My last remaining grandmother Lola Isabel "Abe" Ignacio Gabriel met her Master last week. She lived a full 91 years before God decided it was time for her to move on to better days. Please don't start singing. Moving forward.

I stayed at my cousin's house in Bulacan for 2 days, and I'm sorry if this sounds rather insensitive, but I don't think I could've lasted another day without cable or the internet. I mean, I had thought about living the simple life until I realized I needed to change the way I define "simple".

Lola Abe's passing hit Mom the hardest. I realized how alone Mom must feel right now. With both her parents and two sisters gone, her aunt (my Lola) Abe's passing must've devastated her. I wonder if I would be as strong as her when it's my turn to suffer a tragic loss in the family. Dark thoughts, I know. But it's inevitable.

I was heading home tonight and I took a cab again, thereby negating my new year's resolution to abstain from the daily cab rides that cut a huge chunk out of my finances. I wasn't paying too much attention to the cab driver as usual, the snotty self-praising prick that I am, when I thought I noticed him pointing at something with his left hand on the wheel. Naturally, I turned my head in the direction he was pointing at. Nothing out of the ordinary I thought, so I ignored it. Then he did it a few more times, without saying a word. Nearly irritated, I was just about to ask him what it was that he kept pointing at when I realized he had polio and that pointing thing that he kept doing with his left hand was involuntary. So I kept my mouth shut and just respected the fact that he had a decent job despite his disability.

And oh, I saw that old nasty ghost in the office again last week. I really hate that b*tch. Oops, there goes that word again.

Well, I think I've just about run out of mental acuity for tonight, and before I start typing gibberish I'm gonna end this post with a very meaningful thought: Life is sexually transmitted. I don't know why I said that, really. Good night folks!


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Stories from the Simian Crease by Binchee is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License.
Based on a work at binchee.blogspot.com