Fiercely Maternal  

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"I am in a state of shock. My son is dying in the hospital."

These were the words of a clearly crestfallen Marlene Aguilar, mother of Jason Aguilar Ivler who is suspected of killing the son of a Malacañang official, moments after her son was arrested in a bloody encounter with National Bureau of Investigation agents earlier today in their Quezon City residence.

Now I don't know about you guys, but I think the Feds (alright so they're not FBI, should I call them Nats?), well they should have come more prepared. They weren't dressed for the occasion. For one thing, they have to be informed immediately that bullet-proof vests are a must-have when raiding the home of a heavily armed suspect. It's sort of a fashion statement, or so I've been told.

Also, I wanna talk about Marlene Aguilar. When does maternal love turn into obstruction of justice? I guess the answer to that is when offspring screws up and mom helps get rid of any evidence. This is especially true when offspring is an inked-out, ill-tempered and military-trained brat who thinks he can kill someone just because they got into a yelling match during a traffic altercation and get away with it. People like that sicken me. I mean, they shouldn't even be behind the wheel. Jason Aguilar Ivler, if proven guilty, should be raped repeatedly by his greasy, stinkin' cell mates.

One thing I don't understand though is why the media seems to be playing this issue up so thick? I know a high-ranking official's son got killed and all, but with all due respect, many other common homicides occur and those cases do not receive this much media attention. I have to commend our law enforcement people for arresting a wanted fugitive in two short months. Now if they could only find all the hundreds of other missing suspects in previous uncelebrated cases just as quickly. I'm sorry, but the whole thing smells like a major glory hunt to me. Caught the dude in only two months!? Blow me.

Honestly though, I do feel some degree of pity for Marlene Aguilar. Seriously, you can't blame someone for trying to protect their son. I mean it's an anthropological truth; parents have a natural tendency to protect their young. You should know that, unless you've been featured on one of those nature documentaries about filial cannibalism. Fierce, right?

Cover of Marlene Aguilar's book, Warriors of Heaven

Digital Heartbreak  

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So I have just received my final pay from the last whorehouse that I slaved for, oh joy.

More like, "oh crap".

This is another classic case of counting the chicks before the eggs hatched. How was I supposed to know they'd be cutting my back pay in half? It's a sad, irritating, double deduction. Do you know what's worse than not getting paid? It's not getting paid twice over. I'm tired of explaining things to myself over and over again, so forgive me if I'm not overly willing to make you understand what happened to my portable 8.9 inch dream. It has never sucked to be me as much as it does right now.

Oh and it gets better. I think I'm having my usual paranoid delusions again. Everyone's out for my throat. What's wrong with you people? What's wrong with me!? I have no other recourse now but to crawl back into the dark crevice that I call work. This time though, I want to be choosy. I want to look at all the angles, and not just sign up with the one with the most number of zeros scribbled on the job offer. I'm thinking of going close to home on this one. I dunno.I still want to write, though. No matter how crappy my articles are, I still think I'm good at this writing stuff. Aren't I? Talk about a confidence boost. I think I really need one right about now.
That's the end alright.

Anybody Home?  

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Press CTRL+S on another year, we're done writing the story of 2009. It's time to begin a new chapter in 2010, and I would like to start off with my usual sarcastic rantings. Oh joy.

If the first few days of 2010 are any indication of what's to come this year, then I am definitely not looking forward to it.

Any pretense of joyous anticipation evaporated this morning. I have had up to here with all these imbecilic neighbors thinking that our house is a public park. I might as well rip down our gate and front door because they're obviously not serving their purpose. My beloved mother seems to enjoy the fact that neighbors are free to walk in and spread gossip inside this house; this house which I would occasionally prefer to call sanctuary. These cretins walk in and out of my domicile as if the sanctity of privacy does not apply to me. I want my privacy. Heck, I deserve my privacy.

I despise all those that violate me by violating my personal space. I'd rent my own pad if I could, but I can't leave Mom on her own.

A house simply stops being a home when it's inhabitants are no longer a family. Oh the family's here alright; my mom, my sister, my brother, my brother's wife and two kids, and a cousin. That's a big enough family for at least two households, but we all squeeze into this one like a can of corned tuna. Yeah, the sardines cliché is so outdated.

As if that wasn't enough, another completely separate family of four rents one of the rooms in the house. What used to be the living room is now a small computer rental shop that caters to a bunch of social miscreants and highly underdeveloped and uneducated primates. This isn't a very big house, you see. Just between me and my brother, we take up so much space that walking inside the house when we're both at home is in itself an amazing feat. There was also that time when I had to sleep on the couch because I had no room of my own. That's corporal punishment for somebody who values his privacy as much as I do.

We had visitors today and we had no living room to take them in. We had to eat lunch outside, in the back of the house just above the septic tank. Did I tell you we've had no kitchen or dining table ever since... oh I dunno, forever?

Oh and there's also my evil aunt and her daughter living upstairs. We don't mingle with them too much. In fact, I avoid contact with them as much as possible. At least they get to have their privacy.

My wish for this new year is for this house to become a home again; either that or we move to a house that has no nosy neighbors and has a dining table. A pool would be great too. I wanted to kick things off in 2010 by kicking a few people out of the house, but Mom just wouldn't let me. So I'll just wing it and hope that somebody decides to take me seriously someday. I still have the rest of the year to figure this one out.

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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