Why Aliens Love the Internet

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In 1985, an alien (incognito as Bill Gates) hiding somewhere within the Lake Washington vicinity devised prototypes of what he thought to be the most perfect weaponry to manipulate human brains and annihilate this dismal planet. Instead, he created that thing we call now as Microsoft.

That is a true story—at least that’s what I like to believe.

We humans worship aliens. We assume that they are so sapient they could invent spaceships to invade Earth. Our assumptions might be true. But who knows, they might just be as dumb as we are. Supposing that there already are extra-terrestrial beings inhabiting the land we live in, I bet they love the internet.

These are the 3 reasons why:

1. Our planet’s interconnection of computer networks provides that Bruce Almightyempowerment. Just as Jim Carrey experienced being God and in effect getting whatever he wanted; our alien pals would be instilled with the idea of extreme luck. This fortune comes in the form of spam mails and pop-ups.

Come on, what galaxy can you find 3 different Nigerian bank managers giving away 2 billion dollars a day right at your inbox? Not to mention the excessive freebies and exciting offers popping-up here, there and basically everywhere.

2. Earth is the porn hub of the universe. People would do anything for money; be it plain nudity or coitus involving animate beings (e.g. dogs, horses, cows, sheep, goats, elephants, snakes (?) and about every other animal you can think of). Girls can even be bribed to wear alien costumes.

Given our panoply of choices, visitors from other planets would feel just at home.

3. Communication is as easy as taking candy from a baby (cobra). No matter how many light-years their home planets are from our world, contact with their loved ones is possible! Well, not really. But we’ve seen the mushroom soup bowls in Mars, so it is very likely to create a connection with (literally) out-of-this-world beings. Just wait a couple of years, 25 years, give or take.

But then again, Y!M (Yahoo! Messenger) might just be our secret connection to the outer space.

Those are the most sensible reasons I could come up with. Admit it or not, alien invasion is probably going to occur eventually—not in the near future I suppose, but nevertheless possible. Fifty years ago, who would have thought that paper-thin cellular phones would be invented? Just imagine how Galileo’s face would have looked like if someone told him that human beings can now communicate with other-worldly creatures. Ah, probably more spectacular than Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa.

The internet is growing; evolving as each day passes. Just as we were comfortable with that state-of-the-art web connection, also known as Wireless Fidelity (Wi-Fi), inside our homes, Starbucks and other business establishments now provide wi-fi within their shops. Asian countries have already adopted this, including Singapore, Japan, and the Philippines. Now, creatures from outer-space would not find it difficult to chat with their human friends.

Well, if aliens have already landed here on Earth, it’s not just a small world, but a small universe after all.

Hakhak.

XXXxx

Alas, He’s Human

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True love stories never have endings.

READ: The quote has totally nothing to do with this post—and you thought this entry was about love.

Hakhak.

Okay so let’s start. First, forgive me for being notably lazy—erm, I mean busy. School is still my primary priority (alliteration unintended); blogging just comes next. I’ll try to post as regularly as I can. But do not fret my fellow extra-terrestrial beings; our term break is on the week after next. And that means more time in the blogosphere, YEHEY! Hakhak.

I just heard the Kiko news. So Francis Magalona has leukemia. So what?

Hakhak.

Not that I don’t care. Of course, it’s very depressing. But the thing is, WE ARE ALL HUMAN BEINGS (though I claim to be an alien) and WE ALL DIE. Just think about how many more Filipinos suffer the same condition. Consider those young kids who suffer similar or even worse cases. At least he has a chance of survival, those conjoined and deformed infants don’t. He is darn lucky.

The media magnifies the issue because he is a celebrity. But if the one needing blood transfer is a homeless beggar, would you share your blood?

I do not have anything personal against the Master Rapper. It just so happens that I am not a fan of uncontrolled births, and he has, what, gazillion children? Hakhak. Okay, so he only has 8 kids. Come on. That is just foul. But then again, it may just be my alien culture.

I have obviously run out of sensible things to say. Again, I apologize.

Too much school + no blogging = wasted teenage kid.

Hakhak.

I will wish in general. I hope everyone with leukemia gets well, not just some media-frantic dude.

P.S.

Forgive the alien if in any way he has offended you.

XXXxx

Good Night and Good Luck

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I am wasted.

The exam on Friday is rewiring my nerves.

Okay, so what have I been doing these past few sunsets? CONTESTS.

For one, there is The 3rd Philippine Graphic Fiction Awards. For a chance to meet and greet THE Neil Gaiman, writing a 7, 000-word prose fiction is a piece of cake. Well, actually it isn’t. I’m bombarded with loads of school-crap, leaving me with no time to start writing. The cash prize is an astounding 100, 000 pesos! So please do me this small favor and DO NOT JOIN. Please?

In addition to which is stated above, this would be my chance to have my opus printed in a national digest. That is, if I win against gazillions of hopefuls that obsess and salivate for the Ultimate Comic God.

Hakhak.

The other competition, well kind of, is the Ateneo National Writers’ Workshop. What are the chances of me being chosen as one of the twelve receivers of the fellowship of the ring? Hakhak. No, seriously, the chosen dozen [rhyme unintended] are called FELLOWS.

I need three short stories; I’ll recycle one from my high school works so I only have to write two more. If you have any topics or ideas in mind, do share it with me. Trust me, it would be highly appreciated. This workshop is what I’ve been waiting for [all of my life, hakhak]. This is the step I need to initiate my Creative Writing journey. [May ganun?]

Anyhow, the deadline for the Ateneo-thing is September 8, that leaves me with just about a month to create and submit my literary creations. Waaaaahhhh!

PANIC MODE.

And again, if you have some weird concepts, post it here people! For if not, I’ll push the Planet Annihilation Button hidden somewhere here in Manila. [Next to my spaceship, of course.]

Hakhak.

XXXxx

DOTA for a Brighter Future

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I don’t play World of Warcraft. In fact, I have not yet played any computer game in my life—ever.

Coming from a 17 year-old guy, this is hard to believe. Seriously, who have not yet played DotA?

Isn’t it obvious now that I am really an alien?

Ironic as it may seem, I have invariably been an advocate of computer gaming. The math wizards in my high school class have always been the ones urgent to go home [by home I mean computer shop] to play Counter Strike or Battle Realms, because DotA was not as popular then as it is now. So judging from the types of people who play computer games [e.g. college professors, dean’s listers, fishball vendors], the public assumption of “gaming freaks failing their academics” is seemingly inapplicable.

Okay, so why don’t I play DotA? Given the resources [e.g. PC, fast internet connection, game installer] I should be using my precious time in a killing spree of all-star bliss. [Okay, I just made that up, hakhak]. I do not play the game NOT because I’m scared of flunking my subjects. Back in high school I kind of vowed, to some extent, never to play computer games, just to maintain a unique perspective of the issue concerning the negative [kuno] effects of computer games to my schoolmates. Other than that, I am also a very poor child that could not afford the 20/hour rate of internet cafés at that time.

Game addiction still fades in comparison with having a boyfriend or girlfriend [or both] with regard to causing student failure.

Gaming is creating a virtual YOU then killing other virtual people—which certainly has no difference with blogging.

Hakhak.

If ever a student experiences a decline in his grades, he shouldn’t blame his friends for introducing DotA in his life; he should blame himself because he didn’t balance his virtual and real lives. [B.I. kung B.I. ah.]

Hakhak.

I doubt studies have been conducted to test whether gaming is really a cause of bad grades. But if there are any, inform me.

The reason why I am writing this now is because I may be failing in school soon, too. I am about to break my principle. Tomorrow I’ll be installing Warcraft. I have read basic DotA tutorials, so I may be ready. Who knows? I may become more strategically adept than you are. I wish this post maintains my sanity after I play my first game.

Hakhak. May ganun?

elyens bid gudlak

XXXxx

Mama Don’t Preach

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My mom is corrupt.

For about a decade now, my ermats has worked for the Department of Social Welfare and Development, that’s DSWD for Christ’s sake. They are the ones who respond to those filthy government-hating squatters who, like puppies, come wagging their tails when storms flood their homes.

People hate you when you work for the devi—I mean, President or her associates. Everyone, including close friends, begin to lose trust, thinking that you are indeed working for The Devil. The typecast kills—erm, or maybe not.

The thing is, every time a typhoon hits Cavite, gazillions of goods (i.e. rice, noodles, canned stuff, etc.) need to be packed and delivered to poor people who are either homeless or drowning in accumulated urine, I mean rainwater. An oversupply of those goods always occurs. Since my mom is a Social Worker, she’s one of the few who does the packaging and delivery. And of course, she gets to bring home the extra sacks (yes, sackS—as in plural) of rice, noodles and canned sardines. [Not to mention the bond papers, yellow pads, and ball pens she brings home everyday.]

Even the simplest people bend towards the wicked. And if I were God, corruption would be something I’d hinder. Of course and then some…

God complex, I have none. [Hakhak, I love this wordplay.] But if I could play Almighty for a day these are the things I would do:

1. Destroy the Ateneo—In my wildest dreams, I imagine myself inside the Ateneo campus, incognito, carrying an explosive and anytime, ready for a suicide bombing delight. Hakhak. It’s a joke. [Or is it?] Well the point is, education is so overrated. If you graduated from college, does it secure vantage in life? No, it doesn’t.

That is why I’d like to make education inexistent, or superexistent (if such exists). Meaning, everyone will have fair knowledge. No one knows more than the other. Thus, no one can brag to be a genius.

In short, I will Disprove the Genius.

Hakhak.

2. Annihilate Banco de Oro—Money, money, everywhere, but no money to spend.

Those coins and paper bills are objects I love and loathe at the same time. I love it when I have them, hate it when I’m broke—just like everyone else. So, if I had the power to do so, I would erase money from the depleting face of the earth.

No money=No crimes.

3. Make Piggy Banks From Politicians—I’d love to see corrupt people as piggy banks. Just imagine, they’re face down, naked, a hole in their backs serve as a coin slot. Just like a piggy bank. Why? I don’t know. Just for fun maybe.

4. Dispatch Animal Abusers—Out of all people, I hate animal abusers the most.

I do not have a pet but I am into equality. It’s cheesy, but I believe that every living creature has a right to live. I’m not vegan but I am planning to be one.

It would be my profound pleasure to view these unforgivable sinners inside cages and/or being chased by lions in a field.

And last but not the least…

5. Burn Bullies at Stakes—If there was a part of my life that I want to forget, that would be high school.

Whoever said that high school is the best part of life hasn’t gone to TNCHS. It’s like hell, squared!

Hakhak.

I am a train wreck right now. My self-confidence is currently at the zero level. My social life, too, is inexistent. And I owe it all to those effin’ bullies.

I’ll put them at separate stakes and slowly burn them, until it reaches their faces. As they burn, their skins melt. Large boils form in their faces. They‘re screaming for help. No one answers. There are people. The people just stare at them. Laughing. Enjoying the scene. Then laughing again. Alas, their bodies rescind. Their hearts stop beating. They’re dead. They’re ashes anyway, so nobody cares. Enough of the morbidity, it gives me chills [Eeeeh.].

Hakhak.

In real life, I’m not this radical. I ‘m just stoked from my math assignment. I wish I was god so that math would not exist at all. Hey wait, that’s the point of this post.

May we be superheroes or average humanoids, we have dreamed of being superior, of having more, of taking control of everything. We have indeed been infected by the god complex once or twice in our lives. But we live in non-fiction. Everything’s real. Every day is a new challenge, a new chance to say “I wish I was God.”

But the truth is, we can all be Almighty. We can’t just wait for Morgan Freeman to pop-up and say “I’m God, and guess what, I’m giving you my powers.” Move now.

Be GOOD. Be GOD.

Hakhak.

This is my entry to the Blog Challenge 05: Almighty For A Day

XXXxx

Taft Guys Wear Green

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Sure, I’m no La Sallian—or whatever they call themselves, but I will be in CSB on September 6. [Had I given up my scholarship, I would be studying there anyway.]

 

Plans of transferring, I have none. It’s just that  WordPress’ WordCamp Philippines 2008 is going to be held there. I’ll definitely attend, you should, too!

 

It’s a chance to peek into the faces behind our WordPress pals’ avatars. I saw Kevin’s post in PinoyTeens today so I registered pronto.

 

WordCamp Philippines 2008 is made possible by Mindanao Bloggers in cooperation with:

• i.PH: the Domain for Individuals
• Free Online Flash Games
• Wazzup Manila Philippines
• Real Estate CRM
• Real Estate Website Designers
• Orange County Real Estate
• Auto Insurance Quotes
• Lane Systems Inc.
• RedMedia

 

Hakhak.

 

elyens wil bi der

 

XXXxx

 

 

Disappointing the Audience

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I am in utmost bliss today. But sorry to disappoint the wagging tails out there, this post has nothing to do with sex or breastfeeding.

 

My day was so weird. I woke up at 2 in the morning. Since I was so bored and could not sleep anymore, I thought of blogging. So I did blog, and then batopik popped up in YM with a buzz. So we talked for some time then the internet connection died. I just prepared for and went to school per usual.

 

At school, I thought I was just imagining when I felt the building shook. What I did was to look around and see if somebody else felt it. Luckily, I was not hallucinating. Someone near me told his friend that he felt the earthquake, too.

 

But that is not the reason of my happiness.

 

So before my first class, the editor-in-chief of The Processor, which is the publication of the engineers at Asia Pacific College, brought me one of the best news I’ve heard in my life.

 

“You’re the managing editor.”

 

That was simply music to my ears. Being a new managing editor (the managing editor is the third in command, of course, next to associate editor and editor-in-chief)brings me closer and closer to my dream of becoming a professional writer. By professional, I mean earning from it. I mean come on; I know I can put that in my resume or something.

 

 

Honestly, I am running out of ideas. So if you have something interesting inside your grey matter that you want me to write about, post it here.

 

If you want to exchange links, I am more than willing to do so.

 

Anyhow, I’m sorry if you expected something more from the inner eroticist in me. Hakhak.

XXXxx

 

Those Lips That Love’s Own Hand Did Make

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I moaned as I softly harassed her breasts.

 

She wiped my lips for I was drooling. She stroked my chest to comfort me, to momentarily retard my thirst. Intensely anxious to engage in whatever we were doing, she instinctively disrobed. She lifted her shirt. The only covering she had left was her bra, so she unhooked it.

 

She was now nude from hips up, chest exposed.

 

At that instant, I knew what to do. She gently groaned as I sucked her nipples. They were warm—as always. It was intuition, as if I was born to do it. It felt like I was draining milk from her bosom with too much gusto.

 

But she enjoyed it.

 

After a while, I released the breasts from my grip. I fell asleep. At last my craving was satisfied.

 

She was aware that I was fulfilled. And that for her is the ultimate orgasm.

.

.

.

You probably pictured the text above as a display of lust. But in fact if you read it again, you’d realize that you might be mistaken. This could be interpreted as an infant being breastfed. The story is a deconstruction, parts are left to the reader’s imagination.

The idea is not original, though. I borrowed it from Kelly’s “D.E.N.S.E.C.I.T.Y.” blog. [Thanks Kelly!] Since I liked (in fact ‘loved’) her post, I wrote my version. It’s much more personal since it’s written in a first person form.

Wala lang. Hakhak.

XXXxx

Dude Where’s Your Carp?

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I think I’m psychic.

No kidding, I seriously think I am. Hakhak. I remember a paranormal expert, Mr. Licauco from the University of the Philippines, as he discussed the plethora of signs concerned with scientifically-unproven abilities of the brain. It was a very abrupt seminar so a lot of the participants still had questions—I am one of them of course.

It may have been concise but it actually stirred up my brainwork. He discussed simple instances that most people consider mere coincidences. And these could actually be manifestations of something much more than that. That familiar feeling, déjà vu, is one of those signs. But I’m sure you’ve felt that thing called precognition—it’s when you know or think about something before it happens.

I know it’s corny but here it goes:

I was on my way home from school. Everyone’s so quiet trying not to wake up the ones sleeping beside them. The road was rough, the vehicle was literally jumping. But anyways, I was there, sitting, bouncing with everyone else at each bump the van encounters—as usual. Then I thought of creating a magazine, preferably for the school, since that would mean that I’m not the one shouldering the printing expenses. I imagined the cover. I thought of the title—paraSiGHT. Para as in paranormal, or deviating from the norm, and sight for vision. Clever, ain’t it? Okay, so it’s not that original. The name is from my good Friendster pal, Paransis. He coined the term, but there are a lot of parasights out there on the net. There’s one in DeviantArt, for instance. But that’s not the point.

The thing is, the next day, after our bowling session (for our P.E. class), we had our History subject. The first few words that came out of our professor’s mouth were about a project due on Thursday. So he (or she) started writing on the board.

It was awesome. We had to make our own magazines. Hakhak. Told ‘ya I was psychic.

You are now officially reading a nincompoop’s blog. I mean come on, what kind of people believe they can predict the future? Only retards do that. But then again, Professor Licauco said that those simple things may mean paranormal stuff (I hate this word).

You can check out paraSiGHt—the online magazine here.

I may not be entirely sure about my brain’s superpower. But I sure know one thing—you’ll click the button below and add a comment.

Hakhak.

XXXxx

The Bermuda Trapezoid

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FACT:

The Bermuda Triangle is NOT a triangle; it’s a trapezoid.

DEPOTA.

That’s exactly how I vented my disgust for my Engineering Mechanics professor after he uttered these words ad nauseam:

Mathematics is the language of the universe.

 

I’m not good in math. Those basic stuff, sure, I get them. But when it comes to the more complicated details (e.g. derivatives, integrals, limits, etc.), that’s when my nose bleeds.

I suddenly remembered something that happened during my initial year in college. It was 3 or 4 in the afternoon; our Trigonometry professor was discussing something about some trigo-function crap, when I saw something on my notebook. There was a big red dot on the page. So I instinctively touched my upper lip, it was wet. For Christ’s sake it was not snot.

Then there was blood.

How poetic, my nose LITERALLY bled during a math subject. I did not want to cause a commotion so I kept it to myself and covered my nose with tissue. (It was my freshman year; I was ready as a boy scout back then.) After a while, it eventually stopped. Thank god I was the only one who actually noticed.

I passed the subject though, but by far, my final grade in Trigonometry is the lowest for all of my subjects, ever.

The prospectus of my course, which is Electronics and Communications Engineering, mainly projects electronics and math—the two topics I loathe the most. You might ask me how I get by with a course that is totally beyond my comfort zone without flunking any subjects. I ask myself the same thing.

Hakhak. I’ll share something harsh about my scholarship.

So you probably realize by now that I’m an SM Scholar—ehem, a PROUD SM Scholar. Thanks to Henry Sy, Sr., I do not have to cash-out a single centavo for my tuition. And the best part is they even pay me. But there is a catch. If ever I fail a subject, I’ll have to pay for that subject only. But if I do not reach the required Graded Point Average, I’ll have to pay for the full tuition fee next term, and that’s a whopping 40,000 pesos! I certainly cannot afford that so I do my darn hardest to pass my calculus quizzes, even if that means not sleeping for two days.

I hate equations. I mean come on, in real life, no one actually uses derivatives. Okay, so there may be a few who do. But the point is, math should have never been invented—and in effect computers could have not been invented, too. And in turn, this amazing (?) blog could not have existed. Okay, I take back my statement. I love math.

Hakhak.

 

XXXxx