Rolling with the Pink Punches
Posted in mundaneity, patheticism, subservience
Well, I am about to embark on another epic adventure. I'm out to get a job.
It's not that I'm done being an egotistical nuisance to society and all, but I could really use the moolah. Sure, I eat three square meals a day - okay they're more like dodecahedrons - but there are days when I can just pull a rabbit out of a hat better than I can pull money out of my pockets. Define "mostly broke", and that's me. And no, I can't even pull a single rabbit out of a hat. Seriously, who would put rabbits in their hats?
Last week I was reintroduced to an awesome drinking buddy, Rommel Cruz of the defunct music legend Put3ska. I have to say, the guy's great. He shared stories about the band that I dare not put in this blog for possible legal repercussions. So the group just exchanged ghost stories that spooked the ectoplasm out of our big old buddy Mickey. The fan in me regrets not having his picture taken with one of the greatest bassists the Philippines has ever had that night. Oh well.
Anyway, life's making another uncontrollable tailspin lately. I never thought I would put my life in the hands of a shallow creature who thinks that I'm not good enough for her because I have a few extra pounds on me. Then I realized she must really have a thing for that muscle-clad rhinoceros that sold his car to her, so I just shrugged my big over-sensitive shoulders. She bought a flimsy new ride, and I think she lied to me about knowing how to drive just like she lied to me about most other things. I can't believe I got into that death trap.
Oh well. I guess I live to wither and watch Glee another day.
