I have to say, this is a rather surreal experience. Not only because it's my first entry for 2007, but the first entry of the new chapter in my life. Which I'm not sure I'm ready to admit.
Since the last entry, alot of things have happened....by the end of 2006, I had just gotten a new job
If there's anything I'm extremely thankful for, it's my folks. Because they have the most twisted sense of humor. Go to my sister's page and you'll understand.
And while no, we did not serve turkey (no one in my family's into it), we did have many fantastically tasty goodness. Too bad, in true Pinoy style, we ate WAY too much. Oh well. Don't have to cook much for the next couple of nights. Woohoo!
What would the title of your autobiography be?
Submitted by princesskasren.
Given my antics, I'll bet my first born that it'd be titled Crass Cow in the Capital: The Life and Antics of a Filipino Provincial Cow.
What do you all think? Does anyone own this car? Is it any good?
I'm just waiting for Case to wake up (this is what I get for dating a clinical insomniac...the sleep meds are so unpredictable) and get ready. Since I'm currently saving up to buy a new car after losing my Lancer, he suggested that maybe I look into the VW Rabbit.
So I did the research, and it's not bad. It's small and can manuever through DC traffic. Plus, apparently it's roomy enough to carry passengers...and the bi-weekly loads of groceries that I'm hoping to do during my errands.
Oh I'm so excited...hoping the dealership will have a model for me to look at. Maybe even a test drive of sorts....
You thought you could get away with it didn't you? Figured, hey, the bus's crowded, there's not alot of space, so the whole 'personal space' deal doesn't apply. And with so many bodies squished inside, someone's going to accidently bump into someone as we lurched to our destination. That is fine my friend...
..but I'm afraid it's not an 'accident' if your hands are on me, cupping my breasts or trying to cup my crotch.
Yes I am talking to you, you roaming-handed pervert. And while I couldn't see you amidst the sea of bodies, I can easily tell who you are. The smell of grease, dishwasher soap, and burnt food tells me that you work as part of a kitchen staff. I saw your hands on my chest and noticed that they were callused, and pink from being scrubbed raw. Yes, you sick bastard, I saw your hands, and I know you were getting a kick moving your fingers across my coat. And judging from your breath--you just recently smoked a pack of Marlboros before boarding this bus.
Luckily, the bus lurched to make a turn onto Viers Mill and I took advantage of stepping on your foot. I heard you hiss, which prompted you to get your hands off me. But alas, that joy did not last long because I felt you again, this time touching my crotch.
I hope you enjoyed those albeit brief, two second joy of groping me before I leaned forward, then rammed my left elbow into your mouth. Yes, good sir, it was my elbow, and I know I hit your mouth because I felt a tooth chip against bone. Didn't expect that eh? I hope you choke on that loose tooth, you dirty bastard.
I bet you didn't also expect me to move my elbow back and ram it again, this time to your face. I know I hit bone because my elbow felt it upon impact. Be thankful the bus WAS crowded. Otherwise, I'd be pulling out my collapsible baton and proceed to beat the crap out of you. Angry Bovine Style.
But alas, MY plan to mete out physical pain came to a sudden end when the bus had to stop to drop off a passenger on Viers Mill and Randolph Road. I felt you move past me--quite quickly, might I add--and join the stream of passengers leaving the vehicle. It was only then that I could make my way to the front, and politely informed the bus driver that I got groped. From that point on, the bus driver made me stand as close to his visual site for the rest of the ride, while calling dispatch to reach the police.
Suffice to say, I ended up arriving to my destination with a Metro police cop waiting for me. I gave my statement and whatever I could provide. Unfortunately no one got a good look at the guy--people who kinda saw what was going on said he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt over a raincoat, and it was hard to make out his face. But at least the bus driver made the friendly comment:
"Well, I'll keep an eye out for someone with a chipped tooth or a bruised face."
What a way to start my weekend. And no more taking that bus that late ever again.
What's your favorite thing to shop for?
Submitted by JadedButterfly.
Cake...a nice moist cake with a fluffy, slightly sweet frosting.
Yeah, not exactly very exciting, but do you all have any idea how hard it is to find good cake????
Need to stop watching standups by Carlos Mencia. Because lately, I've been referring to people as "Dee dee deeee"
Came across this article at Newsweek talking about how a recent study showed college students--from small campuses to Ivy Leaguers--had little to no knowledge about basic civics? How was that possible might you ask? Because a test was given to students from random colleges, the average grade was less than 51 percent.
51 PERCENT??? Dude, how many kegs did it take to wipe out one's brain cells????
Apparently the ones doing the study concluded that students weren't exactly civics-savvy because of alot of things. Either civics wasn't emphasized in high school or colleges lowering curriculum standards. And this is a concern since um....you kinda need to know what your rights are as a citizen. Especially with a certain idiotic generalissimo (sic) and his band of scary men running this country.
Frankly, this is insulting. And people wonder why American students are on the bottom rung...because our schools' standards got so dumbed down, we're generating more "dee dee dee" than we should. Even more sad was that previous generations were more knowledgeable than the current batch.
Now isn't that nice to know? That all those blood, sweat, and tears one endures to finance a college education--and more than likely, your kid's college isn't exactly doing its job in providing quality education? If that ain't an ass raping, I dunno what it is.
If you were wondering, yes I did take the quiz the article offered online. And I got 100. So thank you Professor Clement, DeGeorge, Schuetz, and Mr. Bradley for bashing all of that knowledge in my skull during college. And the fact the parents threatened that I better finish up in four years before the funding runs out. Yikes.
...for tripping a dumb kid on the Metro.
Before you crazy child services people start reaching for your phone and calling the proper authorities, let the cow provide her share of the mooing. I doubt any bodily harm was done, except perhaps losing a few brain cells. But then again, I doubt the kid in question had much to begin with.
For all you DC Metro commuters, am sure you are quite familiar with the setup in the Metro trains. Near the doorways, there are poles designed for people to hold onto. Usually with one hand. That's what they are there for. And no, you annoying out of towners they are not practice bars for your next pole dancing event, and for God's sake, they are NOT substitute babysitters for your kids.
Apparently this one Mom thought the poles were for the latter, since she was letting her toddler of a daughter climb up and down one of the poles. That would be fine, but jesas, in the middle of rush hour? And letting a kid climb up and down the pole in a those kiddie denim miniskirts? Am sure closet pedophiles on the train were sporting hard-ons seeing the Winnie-the-Pooh underwear peek out each time the kid spread her legs climbing. Oh, and did I mention that the girl switched between shrieking for her Mom or just squealing her head off?
I tried to be good. Really did. I kept my mouth shut, clenched my teeth, and tried to read the paper before I got off at Bethesda. But when the kid decided it'd be a GREAT idea to resort to running around after sliding down the pole (trust me, this kid will have a WONDERFUL future in the exotic dancing business with her twirling descent), I decided if the mother decided to just NOT do anything, then I will.
So when the train stopped at my station, I excused my way towards the door, and just when I was near the kid I simply stuck my foot out. Which came out perfectly since the girl automatically tripped and landed on her Mom's lap. Even better timing was that a stream of people came inside the train as I was leaving, so I doubt the mom had a chance to say anything before everyone else was about to trample of her little hellion/pedophile pin-up girl.
Ah well. Hey, the way I see it the Metro's a place to commute. It ain't a daycare.
What's your musical horoscope? (Put your music player on shuffle and write down the first 10 songs that come up.) Inspired by Stephanie.
Well, here goes:
- "Music Sounds Better With You" by Daft Punk
- "Doing It Well" by LL Cool J (keep the snarky comments to yourself)
- "Dive for You" by Boom Boom Satellites
- "Mizu Kagami" by Coco
- "Request Line" by Black Eyed Peas
- "Sunday Bloody Sunday" by U2
- "Rise" by Origa
- "Sunrise" by Simply Red
- "Good Luck" by Basement Jaxx
- "Nuthing but the G Thang" by Snoop and Dr. Dre
Yeah I know the stuff's old. But am not liking much of today's music. Guess this means that the cow is getting older. :-P
What's your motto?
"There is nothing worse than aggressive stupidity." ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Otherwise, these are close:
"Preach not to others what they should eat, but eat as becomes you, and be silent." ~ Epictetus
"Illegitimis nil carborundum" (Don't let the bastards grind you down!)
