I definitely DON'T understand why people try their best to sign up for SOMETHING that they don't know anything about. They call you and ask you questions pertaining to an account that they didn't even set up in the first place. Then they call you, and when you try verifying information on the account, they start laughing and giving you stories that they could not remember. What is this? A game? "Oh boy, I-totally-forgot-what-I-put-there!" is just like saying "Oh-darn-I-forgot-to-put-the condom-on-Sorry-bitch!"
First of all, what's the point of setting up an account and just forgetting it. For OLD people, it's totally fine. But for middle aged-people who in fact are impossible to have Parkinson's disease just yet or even Alzheimer's disease at this point in their lives, just one advice. DON'T FABRICATE INFORMATION THAT YOU WON"T REMEMBER EVER!
And in case you somehow forgot what you put there, DON'T blame US because WE were NOT there when YOU set up the account. Don't give us lame excuses that it was a long time ago or you don't trust the net in data trafficking. Have the decency to admit that you are dumb and just plain stupid. And GET OVER IT!
I would have been so ballistic if not for my curly hair growing nicely from my scalp. Had it been kinky like a pubic hair, it would have been worse!
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Bloody Pissed...
This has been the most laxed time for our work here. Right at this very moment, phone calls are scarce up to the point of extinction. There aren't so much calls today but I got so bloody pissed by this one special phone call.
My caller happens to be a 79-year-old man. A 79-year-old-man that doesn't know anything about computers. An old man already experiencing his second childhood with nobody to talk to and nobody to play with. How unfortunate. And out of nowhere decided to just try and use the net and set up an email just to be hip and "cool". And bam, decided to bug us for a problem that is not even "solve-able" and "company-related". Like a big DUH to him.
He apparently was pissed off, but probably not as pissed as I was when I got him as my customer. He then decided to rant and vent out his anger for something that could not be controlled and for something that we didn't have a say to.
His problem was signing in to his account and hated the fact re-signing in every after three or four hours because the log in session has expired. He also hated the fact that he sees yahoo plastered all over his screen when in fact he was not using a yahoo mail account. Well, two words for you mister - SECOND CHILDHOOD. Just because you don't like seeing yahoo signs plastered on your page doesn't mean that you can have that removed upon request! Like, double DUH! Moron! That's called tyranny.
And the nerve of this old man. He told me that I sounded like a robot and I should speak conversational english. Like what english was that? It's not my problem anymore that he wasn't sent to a good school to study. What kind of english did he like? Baby Talk? He's way over that. He's actually old enough to pee in his pants and wear an adult diaper for crying out loud! Good thing I look good with my hairstyle today. Otherwise, it would have been a bloodshed.
Old bloody men like him who has no respect for individuals should be hanging around inside a casket to get used to the idea that he'd be lying on a rectangular box surrounded with cushioned white satin-like fabric anytime soon.
P.S.
Don't worry. I will send him flowers.
Zombies at work
If zombies are beings brought from the dead and fresh from the grave, I must say, we also have zombies at work. Brown people like me is exploited by white people like whomever. Me, being part of that majority, refuses to believe that I am paid relatively high compared to the "traditional companies" we have to over-exploit young workers.
Reality bites. Unfortunately, there is NO other option a young working professional like me can ever do in choosing a career when in fact all that's left would be an industry most people wouldn't even dream of establishing a career on in the future. Making calls is hard enough as it is. What makes it harder is the volume of calls you get in a day which is so much one can handle. That excludes the irate calls that you get, hard customers, morons, idiots and customers who refuse to hang up the phone because of a request good enough to be in Santa's wish list.
I, for one can be regarded as a zombie, lest the decaying flesh and eyeballs out of the eye sockets but getting there. Rotting flesh replaced by a hollowed body caused by inactivity. Eyes filled with eye bags due to lack of sleep. Customers who seem to test your temper every now and then. Zombies are better than me. Zombies don't have feelings but duh, they don't have a rather pleasing appearance, too!
Reality bites. Unfortunately, there is NO other option a young working professional like me can ever do in choosing a career when in fact all that's left would be an industry most people wouldn't even dream of establishing a career on in the future. Making calls is hard enough as it is. What makes it harder is the volume of calls you get in a day which is so much one can handle. That excludes the irate calls that you get, hard customers, morons, idiots and customers who refuse to hang up the phone because of a request good enough to be in Santa's wish list.
I, for one can be regarded as a zombie, lest the decaying flesh and eyeballs out of the eye sockets but getting there. Rotting flesh replaced by a hollowed body caused by inactivity. Eyes filled with eye bags due to lack of sleep. Customers who seem to test your temper every now and then. Zombies are better than me. Zombies don't have feelings but duh, they don't have a rather pleasing appearance, too!
Thursday, August 10, 2006
WHAT'S UP WITH THE DRAMA QUEENS?!?
We have always liked Drama Queens. We find their "kakikayan" cute - their posh attitude, their mix and match dress codes, their glossy lipsticks, their way of talking which at some point is beyond retarded and their well-polished nails. Oh yes, those oh-so-nice-long-nails, more of hooker-like just to say the least.
But as they say, anything beyond the cute-meter is aggravating. Worse goes to those who actually pretend to be like drama queens that exactly make them well-hated by almost 99 percent of the population around the world. Filipinos, mostly.
Brown ass people like us pretend as white ass people even if it kills us during the process. We pretend we like Roberto Cavalli or Louis Vuitton even if we can't afford to have one. Or we pretend we understand an english joke but deep inside could not even decipher what the punchline is no matter how hard we hit our heads on a concrete wall. Funny, but true. Understanding an english joke sometimes is like understanding a message written in Korean characters rewritten and translated in brail.
There are subtle ones who seem to go with the flow. Rich fashionistas who copy fashion statements from Italy are incomparable to drama queen wanna-bes who get ideas from Ukay Ukay shops or tiangges and try to deny it whenever asked where they bought those. Pity.
Drama Queens bring color to life and to the world. They are the ones that make snobs' and judgmental people's (Ahem!) lives easier in terms of panlalait. They are always the topic of the conversation. We don't have anything good to say about them and we love lambasting and stabbing their backs. Always a fun, fun, fun thing to do.
So long as there are Drama Queens a.k.a. beyond-retarded-citizens of this third world country, life would always be supercalifragilisticexpialidoscious. I just hope my spelling is correct (fingers, crossed).
But as they say, anything beyond the cute-meter is aggravating. Worse goes to those who actually pretend to be like drama queens that exactly make them well-hated by almost 99 percent of the population around the world. Filipinos, mostly.
Brown ass people like us pretend as white ass people even if it kills us during the process. We pretend we like Roberto Cavalli or Louis Vuitton even if we can't afford to have one. Or we pretend we understand an english joke but deep inside could not even decipher what the punchline is no matter how hard we hit our heads on a concrete wall. Funny, but true. Understanding an english joke sometimes is like understanding a message written in Korean characters rewritten and translated in brail.
There are subtle ones who seem to go with the flow. Rich fashionistas who copy fashion statements from Italy are incomparable to drama queen wanna-bes who get ideas from Ukay Ukay shops or tiangges and try to deny it whenever asked where they bought those. Pity.
Drama Queens bring color to life and to the world. They are the ones that make snobs' and judgmental people's (Ahem!) lives easier in terms of panlalait. They are always the topic of the conversation. We don't have anything good to say about them and we love lambasting and stabbing their backs. Always a fun, fun, fun thing to do.
So long as there are Drama Queens a.k.a. beyond-retarded-citizens of this third world country, life would always be supercalifragilisticexpialidoscious. I just hope my spelling is correct (fingers, crossed).
Yes to Yoga, or No to Yoga?
Well I have been thinking for over two weeks now about the yoga classes that my friends and I inquired about in some "sosyal" place in Makati City. That kind of yoga is called bikram yoga.
Maybe you guys are wondering how much it would cost me to actually "pretzel" my body and distort it in a way I wouldn't get hurt. P900 for three sessions and after that, less than P5000 for a 30-day unlimited body twitching. Pretty nice, huh? I just don't know if yoga in other countries are THAT expensive or is it just because of the heated environment that makes is so darn elitist.
Yoga has always made made me interested. I did try some basic yoga and pilates classes way, way, back and boy, it was so refreshing - not just for the body but for the mind as well. It somehow uplifts the spirituality of the person. It may somehow be related to the environment and the music that relaxes the body and mind with only one voice to hear which that of the instructor. And speaking of the guru, I think it's also one thing that makes me so eager to attend the class. The guru is a foreigner and so damn hot. Clothes-wise, the guru just doesn't wear as much. Take off the shirt, wrap around that tiny lean body with a towel and voila - show off that sinewy arms and toned body with just this little, tiny boxer-like spandex trunks which makes it more interesting. Talk about yummy, :)
I still have to ask my friends when "our yoga escapade" will start. Come to think of it, the place is nice and especially the locker with a state of the art medieval-slash-asian inspiration. I can't wait to picture myself in the shower drooling over the guru's physique just like that, hihihi...
And come to think of it, does yoga adds more libido? Let me ask you this, having that said, is it a yes or no to yoga? :)
P.S.
I was trying to post a picture together with this blog posting but damn windows xp professional. It's not letting me do it. Heck!
Maybe you guys are wondering how much it would cost me to actually "pretzel" my body and distort it in a way I wouldn't get hurt. P900 for three sessions and after that, less than P5000 for a 30-day unlimited body twitching. Pretty nice, huh? I just don't know if yoga in other countries are THAT expensive or is it just because of the heated environment that makes is so darn elitist.
Yoga has always made made me interested. I did try some basic yoga and pilates classes way, way, back and boy, it was so refreshing - not just for the body but for the mind as well. It somehow uplifts the spirituality of the person. It may somehow be related to the environment and the music that relaxes the body and mind with only one voice to hear which that of the instructor. And speaking of the guru, I think it's also one thing that makes me so eager to attend the class. The guru is a foreigner and so damn hot. Clothes-wise, the guru just doesn't wear as much. Take off the shirt, wrap around that tiny lean body with a towel and voila - show off that sinewy arms and toned body with just this little, tiny boxer-like spandex trunks which makes it more interesting. Talk about yummy, :)
I still have to ask my friends when "our yoga escapade" will start. Come to think of it, the place is nice and especially the locker with a state of the art medieval-slash-asian inspiration. I can't wait to picture myself in the shower drooling over the guru's physique just like that, hihihi...
And come to think of it, does yoga adds more libido? Let me ask you this, having that said, is it a yes or no to yoga? :)
P.S.
I was trying to post a picture together with this blog posting but damn windows xp professional. It's not letting me do it. Heck!
Is Masturbation good for me?
I have this weird feeling that the reason why I feel like a sloth with no absolute physical activity would be me not being able to masturbate everyday. It is so ironic that I don't get to do much extra-curricular activities these days. And I somehow relate it to masturbation.
What good does masturbation bring to mankind aside from population control due to genocide. At least, that would the purists would say. But seriously, is IT really the reason why I feel so lazy these days. And come to think of it, I have not done it on an everyday basis.
Whacking off needs so much concentration to actually "feel" it. Apart from that, it needs so much energy and palm reflexes to savor the moment. Otherwise, it's not going to work. It is so much work. Well, I mean in scientific terms, mastubation to sound more formal. After all the concentration and exercising the palm, fingers and knuckles, there goes the fluid in a squirting and rocket-like motion. And then you feel tired and you feel like sleeping. I guess that's the whole point. You get tired and then get sleepy after.
I guess I need more sleep than more masturbation. But if I can get both, what the heck! Let's go for the gold. :P
What good does masturbation bring to mankind aside from population control due to genocide. At least, that would the purists would say. But seriously, is IT really the reason why I feel so lazy these days. And come to think of it, I have not done it on an everyday basis.
Whacking off needs so much concentration to actually "feel" it. Apart from that, it needs so much energy and palm reflexes to savor the moment. Otherwise, it's not going to work. It is so much work. Well, I mean in scientific terms, mastubation to sound more formal. After all the concentration and exercising the palm, fingers and knuckles, there goes the fluid in a squirting and rocket-like motion. And then you feel tired and you feel like sleeping. I guess that's the whole point. You get tired and then get sleepy after.
I guess I need more sleep than more masturbation. But if I can get both, what the heck! Let's go for the gold. :P
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Just Plain Burnt-out!
Work never seemed to be soooo draining like this before. Back in the Ortigas site where I used to work in was just plain easy and no-brainer. Not to point out the obvious, it was so easy to get there. Just one ride and you're done. No hassles of crossing the street or no brisk walking involved with risks of getting tossed by reckless drivers. AND we never failed to entertain ourselves there - random gossiping, eating crispy pork skin (aka chicharon), and talking about non-sense would get us thru the day (or should I say night?).
Now, aside from the toxic program I am in, which I thought at first was challenging and fun, creeps me out. There are just so many parameters. With the extremely expensive fare going to Makati and random asshole drivers who don't want to take you to your point of destination because of congested service roads and greed for passengers for another round trip AND a relatively risky way to cross the street away from the pedestrian lane since the company building is opposite the drop off point, there are way lots of things to consider and point out.
The program is so not my turf. Technical questions about domain names are like encrypted messages from Krypton. Although we have technical support, at times we are misjudged plainly because we don't know what the customer is talking about. Most of the time, bugs or glitches are evidently there to consistently remind us that the systems are NOT perfect and make us realize that we are paid to take in calls. We don't even have idle time anymore. Bug equals more calls to take. The progam I am in now is relatively simple. What makes it complex would be the scope of support that we offer. I REALLY DON'T KNOW what this program has but at the end of the shift I just feel so used up that I feel the company underpays me A LOT.
The environment here is needless to say smothering. I feel agents are choking me to death with their two hands wrapped around tightly on my neck, especially the tenured ones. They feel they are so much better than us, which is totally quite the opposite.
Talk about pressure in the work place. I smell and embrace politics everyday. It's in the air that I breathe. It's all around us that I can't even express it enough.
People here mostly based on character are tolerable and genuinely nice. But when it comes to work, there goes the pride and ego. They don't want to be outshun and are so hungry for promotions. Poor low-life-egocentric-promotion-hungry citizens of the company. And some due to frustration just emit that frustrating atmosphere that affects us all leading to low morale and high absenteeism rate.
I am completely burnt out now. It completely depletes my energy and it's just a matter of time that I go and pack my bags again. Maybe go for a lateral transfer or some other companies that would make me worth my skills. Had I have options, nobody would have ever seen me around here. I deserve more than what they are paying me. If I am not treated and recognized right eventually, it's goodbye Convergys and hello world for me!
Now, aside from the toxic program I am in, which I thought at first was challenging and fun, creeps me out. There are just so many parameters. With the extremely expensive fare going to Makati and random asshole drivers who don't want to take you to your point of destination because of congested service roads and greed for passengers for another round trip AND a relatively risky way to cross the street away from the pedestrian lane since the company building is opposite the drop off point, there are way lots of things to consider and point out.
The program is so not my turf. Technical questions about domain names are like encrypted messages from Krypton. Although we have technical support, at times we are misjudged plainly because we don't know what the customer is talking about. Most of the time, bugs or glitches are evidently there to consistently remind us that the systems are NOT perfect and make us realize that we are paid to take in calls. We don't even have idle time anymore. Bug equals more calls to take. The progam I am in now is relatively simple. What makes it complex would be the scope of support that we offer. I REALLY DON'T KNOW what this program has but at the end of the shift I just feel so used up that I feel the company underpays me A LOT.
The environment here is needless to say smothering. I feel agents are choking me to death with their two hands wrapped around tightly on my neck, especially the tenured ones. They feel they are so much better than us, which is totally quite the opposite.
Talk about pressure in the work place. I smell and embrace politics everyday. It's in the air that I breathe. It's all around us that I can't even express it enough.
People here mostly based on character are tolerable and genuinely nice. But when it comes to work, there goes the pride and ego. They don't want to be outshun and are so hungry for promotions. Poor low-life-egocentric-promotion-hungry citizens of the company. And some due to frustration just emit that frustrating atmosphere that affects us all leading to low morale and high absenteeism rate.
I am completely burnt out now. It completely depletes my energy and it's just a matter of time that I go and pack my bags again. Maybe go for a lateral transfer or some other companies that would make me worth my skills. Had I have options, nobody would have ever seen me around here. I deserve more than what they are paying me. If I am not treated and recognized right eventually, it's goodbye Convergys and hello world for me!
Sunday, July 30, 2006
Just my Luck, Week-End Escapade - Part Duex
It was lunchtime today when my dad together with my mom drove me to the bus station. I got on a bus going to Pasay to go back to a Manille, again (sighs).
I was seated two seats from the driver and it was good since I have some "perishable goods" (food supplies) on board. I considered myself lucky. I figured it was a good idea so when I get off, I won't ever have to walk that long stretch from the far back end of it. So I stuck with my plan.
All the while, I considered myself lucky not until this person who collects the fare stepped on my of so dear toes, on my four toes to be specific. I was on the verge of getting that nap I was trying to make for 30 minutes already and this guy playing innocent just stepped on my toes so hard they almost got murdered! I screamed. NO, I SCREAMED HARD. His shoes were like hiking shoes, with defined soles and two inches made of rubber.
My left foot was not wandering around. It was safe, or so I thought. He apologized. I didn't say a thing mainly because I am pissed off at him stepping on my toes with his shoes shaped and weighed like anvils AND him interrupting me in getting my sleep. It was not like he could take it back. I spent my ten minutes massaging my toes, and up til now, they still hurt. But maybe I am just exagerrating.
So, to make things simple. I got over it. That entire trip, it was raining. And people tried to point the airconditioner vents away from them because duh, it was so cold. It wasn't a bad idea but when people try to direct the a/c vents TO YOU just so they won't point or direct to them, it's pretty much the WORST idea. And guess what, all a/c vents were pointing TOWARDS me. People have a way of saving their asses off in expense of others which happenned to be me. Poor me. Damn it.
To my dismay, I asked one of the passengers opposite to me to direct the vents elsewhere since my armpit hairs are freezing to death as well. And she did but the passengers in front of me I could not ask. One of those two passengers was an old man. And I knew he was frail, so I sacrificed. Poor grandpa didn't have a jacket so I endured. And you guys call Manny Pacquiao a hero? And what would you call me then, huh?Huh? Kidding.
That bus I was on was cursed. Dude, could you get any luckier? And to think during my entire trip I was dodged, bumped and my hair was pulled ocassionally. And oh boy, it loved to pick and get passengers along the way which is okay if it were faaaaaaasssssttt. It was not.
I spent almost 4 hours to get back home in Manila which supposed to have been 2 1/2 hours ONLY. And that long trip I would say is the most and unwanted ride I don't ever plan to relive again.
I was seated two seats from the driver and it was good since I have some "perishable goods" (food supplies) on board. I considered myself lucky. I figured it was a good idea so when I get off, I won't ever have to walk that long stretch from the far back end of it. So I stuck with my plan.
All the while, I considered myself lucky not until this person who collects the fare stepped on my of so dear toes, on my four toes to be specific. I was on the verge of getting that nap I was trying to make for 30 minutes already and this guy playing innocent just stepped on my toes so hard they almost got murdered! I screamed. NO, I SCREAMED HARD. His shoes were like hiking shoes, with defined soles and two inches made of rubber.
My left foot was not wandering around. It was safe, or so I thought. He apologized. I didn't say a thing mainly because I am pissed off at him stepping on my toes with his shoes shaped and weighed like anvils AND him interrupting me in getting my sleep. It was not like he could take it back. I spent my ten minutes massaging my toes, and up til now, they still hurt. But maybe I am just exagerrating.
So, to make things simple. I got over it. That entire trip, it was raining. And people tried to point the airconditioner vents away from them because duh, it was so cold. It wasn't a bad idea but when people try to direct the a/c vents TO YOU just so they won't point or direct to them, it's pretty much the WORST idea. And guess what, all a/c vents were pointing TOWARDS me. People have a way of saving their asses off in expense of others which happenned to be me. Poor me. Damn it.
To my dismay, I asked one of the passengers opposite to me to direct the vents elsewhere since my armpit hairs are freezing to death as well. And she did but the passengers in front of me I could not ask. One of those two passengers was an old man. And I knew he was frail, so I sacrificed. Poor grandpa didn't have a jacket so I endured. And you guys call Manny Pacquiao a hero? And what would you call me then, huh?Huh? Kidding.
That bus I was on was cursed. Dude, could you get any luckier? And to think during my entire trip I was dodged, bumped and my hair was pulled ocassionally. And oh boy, it loved to pick and get passengers along the way which is okay if it were faaaaaaasssssttt. It was not.
I spent almost 4 hours to get back home in Manila which supposed to have been 2 1/2 hours ONLY. And that long trip I would say is the most and unwanted ride I don't ever plan to relive again.
Week-End Escapade, Part Une
Today is such a lame day for me. I just got back from Nueva Ecija late this afternoon. I did come home to spend some quality time with my folks since it has been 2 or 3 weeks I think that I have gone home. It was a busy weekend for me.
Saturday, straight from my 9pm-to-6am shift, off I went to Nueva Ecija. My ETA was before 12 in the afternoon. The minute I stepped foot on our house, I quickly requested for food, hehe. I didn't have time to sleep because of my rendez-vous - my niece's birthday party in Jollibee (bee-happy :)) at 2pm with the entire family.
I was totally beat up. No sleep yet - 15 hours awake that time. As for any kid's party, games were the biggest part of it. And thanks to the emcee who happenned to have that i'll-put-an-S-to-everything-speech problem, I managed to laugh and be awake at the same time.
Mingling with cousins was my main priority, even I was half-dead and half-boring. I think I did okay. So after seeing the gigantic, monumental and colossal one of a kind, odd-looking and most colorful bee in the planet - Jollibee which happenned to be the highlight and the sign that the party was about to end, we went to Robinson's Department Store.
It has been ages since we have gone to loiter together. And that was it. We visited shops and looked for interesting items. We bought some items, since almost everything was on sale. So we figured, we'd take adavantage. Most of items that we got were not ours of course but gifts for people who celebrated and would celebrate their birthdays. We tried to looked for items to shop for ourselves, but nada. Zero. Not much choices anyways.
The moment we went home, I was like a withered veggie. No energy and so, so tired. I washed my face, got my sleeping clothes, brushed my teeth, kissed my parents good night, went upstairs, surf the channels and before I knew it, my saliva was dripping on my pillow case. Just like that. And that ended it all.
I woke up and it was already Sunday. Tiring as it was, I enjoyed the time I spent with my family. Around lunchtime, I needed to get my ass back here, in Manila. And here I am now and about to start my new week again.
Saturday, straight from my 9pm-to-6am shift, off I went to Nueva Ecija. My ETA was before 12 in the afternoon. The minute I stepped foot on our house, I quickly requested for food, hehe. I didn't have time to sleep because of my rendez-vous - my niece's birthday party in Jollibee (bee-happy :)) at 2pm with the entire family.
I was totally beat up. No sleep yet - 15 hours awake that time. As for any kid's party, games were the biggest part of it. And thanks to the emcee who happenned to have that i'll-put-an-S-to-everything-speech problem, I managed to laugh and be awake at the same time.
Mingling with cousins was my main priority, even I was half-dead and half-boring. I think I did okay. So after seeing the gigantic, monumental and colossal one of a kind, odd-looking and most colorful bee in the planet - Jollibee which happenned to be the highlight and the sign that the party was about to end, we went to Robinson's Department Store.
It has been ages since we have gone to loiter together. And that was it. We visited shops and looked for interesting items. We bought some items, since almost everything was on sale. So we figured, we'd take adavantage. Most of items that we got were not ours of course but gifts for people who celebrated and would celebrate their birthdays. We tried to looked for items to shop for ourselves, but nada. Zero. Not much choices anyways.
The moment we went home, I was like a withered veggie. No energy and so, so tired. I washed my face, got my sleeping clothes, brushed my teeth, kissed my parents good night, went upstairs, surf the channels and before I knew it, my saliva was dripping on my pillow case. Just like that. And that ended it all.
I woke up and it was already Sunday. Tiring as it was, I enjoyed the time I spent with my family. Around lunchtime, I needed to get my ass back here, in Manila. And here I am now and about to start my new week again.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Updating my MySpace account....
I am in the middle of updating my mySpace account as we speak. Unlike friendster, MySpace has so many features. God only knows how many buttons and links I have to go to for me to actually and completely make changes on my account.
I only have one friend on my account, not because I am retarded. I just have no time to look for my friends in MySpace. Afterall, I have Friendster. I don't need to make up an account to each and every website that offers the same service. But, what the hell. I don't know why I am updating it anyways.
Odd as it is, MySpace has so many account details. Even the income I am earning I have the option of putting and typing in. What is this? Bureau of Internal Revenue? I don't see the point of having to put it in there. So people can see how much you earn and then take advantage of you? I may be stupid at times but I AM NOT THAT STUPID. It's like suicide. It's like a straight guy watching Queer as Folk or a gay guy turned straight or something.
Friendster is still number 1 for me in terms of use and functionality. MySpace doesn't even have Philippines as one of the options in choosing and adding the school that you come from.
Regardless of what was said, I am still updating it. Period.
I only have one friend on my account, not because I am retarded. I just have no time to look for my friends in MySpace. Afterall, I have Friendster. I don't need to make up an account to each and every website that offers the same service. But, what the hell. I don't know why I am updating it anyways.
Odd as it is, MySpace has so many account details. Even the income I am earning I have the option of putting and typing in. What is this? Bureau of Internal Revenue? I don't see the point of having to put it in there. So people can see how much you earn and then take advantage of you? I may be stupid at times but I AM NOT THAT STUPID. It's like suicide. It's like a straight guy watching Queer as Folk or a gay guy turned straight or something.
Friendster is still number 1 for me in terms of use and functionality. MySpace doesn't even have Philippines as one of the options in choosing and adding the school that you come from.
Regardless of what was said, I am still updating it. Period.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Paris Hilton is a bitch served on a silver platter!
The all rich and famous dumb blonde - Paris Hilton is one hell of a bitch. Could you imagine Paris singing her heart out to the tune of "Stars are blind"? I did. And my skin almost separated from my muscles. It was like a hen smothered to death by a rooster in the middle of their hot kinky sex. A morbid scenario huh, but more or less accurate. It was so bad I got traumatized the whole day that I skipped my meals and locked myself up in the attic.
Paris being known for her nothingness is cute. We admire her for that aside from sequels of her sex videos. She best exemplifies the all-american-blonde and can be compared to the likes of Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson, one on the brink of losing her marriage with a rapper-wanna-be and bloodsucking leech K-Fed and the other almost out of the started-as-happy-newly-weds-now-undergoing-a-nasty-divorce type respectively.
If only they could think, life would have been more wonderful and generous for them. As for Paris, she's enjoying tasting penis. Es. Penises. From one man to the other. Sometimes, both at the same time. No wonder Paris' mouth looks so distorted, it must have been overworked for her taste-testing.
Paris Hilton might be an heiress but she sure is one classless bitch who lures poor men to her overworked pussycat decorated with diamonds and fancy jewels to look awesome. Paris is a sexual predator with an insatiable appetite to semen and penis. Oh, yeah. Penis. Es. Penises.
I think she just has to do what she does best (which is making sex videos) and not singing, oh please.
Paris being known for her nothingness is cute. We admire her for that aside from sequels of her sex videos. She best exemplifies the all-american-blonde and can be compared to the likes of Britney Spears and Jessica Simpson, one on the brink of losing her marriage with a rapper-wanna-be and bloodsucking leech K-Fed and the other almost out of the started-as-happy-newly-weds-now-undergoing-a-nasty-divorce type respectively.
If only they could think, life would have been more wonderful and generous for them. As for Paris, she's enjoying tasting penis. Es. Penises. From one man to the other. Sometimes, both at the same time. No wonder Paris' mouth looks so distorted, it must have been overworked for her taste-testing.
Paris Hilton might be an heiress but she sure is one classless bitch who lures poor men to her overworked pussycat decorated with diamonds and fancy jewels to look awesome. Paris is a sexual predator with an insatiable appetite to semen and penis. Oh, yeah. Penis. Es. Penises.
I think she just has to do what she does best (which is making sex videos) and not singing, oh please.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Keanna Reeves is lucky
I watched The Buzz earlier this evening, a local kind-of-ET here in the Philippines and I almost could not believe that Keanna Reeves was dating, according to the show, Andrew Wolffe.
Andrew Wolffe, (google him, please) is just one of the 20-year-old hotties gay men and girls drool over. And as for Keanna (google her, too), she's a rather mature woman who at first lied about her age when she first came out and joined the showbusiness industry. I don't recall or maybe I am just in denial. The fact that she is going out with Andrew Wolffe whose body is almost as sculpted as that of Adonis is almost farfetched.
Well, come to think of it, Keanna might be Andrew's type after-all. Well-endowed breasts (with silicon implants) and so-so buttocks. She's like Pamela Anderson, without the ahmmm, oooh, let's not get there. She's perfect for the young man's type. In all fairness to Keanna, she is a smart girl. She may not know English very well but once she gets serious, she knows what she's talking about. He'll learn a lot from her, both in bed and in life's choices. Yeah, baby!!!
I think if there is a woman who would understand him better about his issues, it would be Keanna. Let's just say they both had their fair share of the dark and grim past.
What the hell, I am still jealous. And Keanna is one lucky mature woman!
Andrew Wolffe, (google him, please) is just one of the 20-year-old hotties gay men and girls drool over. And as for Keanna (google her, too), she's a rather mature woman who at first lied about her age when she first came out and joined the showbusiness industry. I don't recall or maybe I am just in denial. The fact that she is going out with Andrew Wolffe whose body is almost as sculpted as that of Adonis is almost farfetched.
Well, come to think of it, Keanna might be Andrew's type after-all. Well-endowed breasts (with silicon implants) and so-so buttocks. She's like Pamela Anderson, without the ahmmm, oooh, let's not get there. She's perfect for the young man's type. In all fairness to Keanna, she is a smart girl. She may not know English very well but once she gets serious, she knows what she's talking about. He'll learn a lot from her, both in bed and in life's choices. Yeah, baby!!!
I think if there is a woman who would understand him better about his issues, it would be Keanna. Let's just say they both had their fair share of the dark and grim past.
What the hell, I am still jealous. And Keanna is one lucky mature woman!
My PC is painstakingly SLOW and TERRIBLE.
I have wanted to post something early this afternoon. And when my errands were suspended and set aside that this prehistoric PC won't even let me open an internet browser. How unfortunate, I have so many things to write and vent to my everdearest blog site and now I dont remember anything anymore. Thanks to this PC that downloads pop ads all the time, especially porn sites I don't even visit.
All I want to write now is how to dispose of this old piece of junk and figure out what PC requirements I need to just check and write to this site without delaying me 15 minutes 48 seconds to open this stupid damn thing.
And the worst part is, I have tried early this afternoon to write and it had taken me to restart this PC I am using now about 3 times. First, it won't even recognize I have a modem. Second, everytime I open it, this mother fucker porn advertisement stuck in this PC today and God knows how many times I tried to delete and look where the hell it was hiding from just won't quit popping and saving in my hard drive. If it were a free porn site, I won't even mind. Well, it's not and it's in Italian. So I don't know what it's saying. Fucker! And thirdly, I had some interesting things to write on here that I don't even remember anymore because I am preoccupied (and still am) with this unfortunate predicament.
So to my readers, if I have one, hahaha!, donations are accepted or better yet, a new and up-to-date PC is very much welcome. Just ask me where to send it to.
All I want to write now is how to dispose of this old piece of junk and figure out what PC requirements I need to just check and write to this site without delaying me 15 minutes 48 seconds to open this stupid damn thing.
And the worst part is, I have tried early this afternoon to write and it had taken me to restart this PC I am using now about 3 times. First, it won't even recognize I have a modem. Second, everytime I open it, this mother fucker porn advertisement stuck in this PC today and God knows how many times I tried to delete and look where the hell it was hiding from just won't quit popping and saving in my hard drive. If it were a free porn site, I won't even mind. Well, it's not and it's in Italian. So I don't know what it's saying. Fucker! And thirdly, I had some interesting things to write on here that I don't even remember anymore because I am preoccupied (and still am) with this unfortunate predicament.
So to my readers, if I have one, hahaha!, donations are accepted or better yet, a new and up-to-date PC is very much welcome. Just ask me where to send it to.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
A TL made from China
Almost everybody knows the fact that I already transferred from my previous program that got closed because of some weird and undiscussed reason to a totally established program in a new environment.
I chose Yahoo! as my new account because I THOUGHT (please take note) that it would give me room to grow and prove to myself that I can swim in a 54-foot deep ocean without a life vest.
Everything was a complete wreck since we got absorbed eventually by Yahoo!. The Communication Culture Training was okay though. Our trainer was like Simba's equal, only a female, rightful to be called as "the Lion Queen" with balls, but was able to deliver a top-quality training amongst all of us.
Immediately after that, we were required to go thru the Product Specification Training, which we thought was going to be as hard as walking on a pile of charcoal embers. But we were deceived. It was harder than that. It was that plus pounding our heads off til our brains come off of our earbuds and nostrils. Not because Yahoo! was so difficult to understand but because our "trainer" needs some more intensive training in delivering the subject matter. We mainly breezed thru the manual, and thank God I asked questions. Otherwise, we'd all be in bad shape, big time.
And so after all the training that would 'suppossedly give us knowledge' and some 'hands-on-training', we were directly put in production (on the floor) to observe and have a feel of the account. There we were, like lost kittens with no absolute acquaintances.
Hardly enough, we were dissatisfied. I personally felt the unwelcoming and bad vibe on the floor and guess what. This TL (short for Team Leader) that I think should not be a TL but a factory worker making plastics and selling them in Divisoria or Tutuban oriented us with no idea what she was doing. She couldn't even pronounce the words right and yes, she's a supervisor. And that's not the best part. Aside from her malfunctioning tongue that obviously has a Level 10 difficulty in English Pronounciation AND GRAMMAR, she could not make and deliver a sentence without the pauses, stutters, ahhhs, ahmmms and the rolling of her eyeballs in her eye sockets. Talk about EFFICIENT LEADERS in the company. She'd be a perfect example.
This TL that I am talking about is also a TL made from China! At first, she would be nice to you in front of her bosses and peers, hugging them, exchanging cheek-to-cheek "besos" (kisses from Satan) and some simple chit-chats, and once she's through, she'll be this TL that grows an unusually long claws and canines ready to fiercely devour you and make you feel that she's in control.
I could not even describe how evil she is. I know China is a country that capitalizes in cheap labor and mass production that results in low grade end-products. This lady is exactly the same, or should I say, WORSE. She'd ask you to laugh discreetly or not-so-loud when she in fact flirts and laughs like a classless bitch you can hire in exchange of a dental floss or a "jolly-jeep meal". She's a low grade, classless and a dumbass bitch who just got lucky for a promotion.
Grrrrr... She's getting in my nerves... And we were just on the floor for how many days. I just hope I can ignore her and make her invisible long enough. But on a positive note, thanks to her I made an interesting blog entry. And why would I be worried about her, she's just there to make my life interesting, I hope.
P.S.
OTHER THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT HER
1. She doesn't have a fashion sense AT ALL. She lives by the
all-shades-of-brown outfit a.k.a. brown-kung-brown
2. She doesn't even work hard.
3. All she does is send text messages. That's why she looks
like a big infected thumb with pus.
4. She looks at her PC and works on something for hours, even if
it's just a MEMO, an excel document or a Yahoo!Messenger chat box.
5. She acts a total classless bitch laughing and giggling with her
peers and superiors projecting an image totally different from
her real self.
6. She's cheap and is not worth an ounce of respect.
And MY GAME PLAN!
1. Play her game and get close to her.
2. Stab her in the back soon.
3. Make her life a living hell.
I chose Yahoo! as my new account because I THOUGHT (please take note) that it would give me room to grow and prove to myself that I can swim in a 54-foot deep ocean without a life vest.
Everything was a complete wreck since we got absorbed eventually by Yahoo!. The Communication Culture Training was okay though. Our trainer was like Simba's equal, only a female, rightful to be called as "the Lion Queen" with balls, but was able to deliver a top-quality training amongst all of us.
Immediately after that, we were required to go thru the Product Specification Training, which we thought was going to be as hard as walking on a pile of charcoal embers. But we were deceived. It was harder than that. It was that plus pounding our heads off til our brains come off of our earbuds and nostrils. Not because Yahoo! was so difficult to understand but because our "trainer" needs some more intensive training in delivering the subject matter. We mainly breezed thru the manual, and thank God I asked questions. Otherwise, we'd all be in bad shape, big time.
And so after all the training that would 'suppossedly give us knowledge' and some 'hands-on-training', we were directly put in production (on the floor) to observe and have a feel of the account. There we were, like lost kittens with no absolute acquaintances.
Hardly enough, we were dissatisfied. I personally felt the unwelcoming and bad vibe on the floor and guess what. This TL (short for Team Leader) that I think should not be a TL but a factory worker making plastics and selling them in Divisoria or Tutuban oriented us with no idea what she was doing. She couldn't even pronounce the words right and yes, she's a supervisor. And that's not the best part. Aside from her malfunctioning tongue that obviously has a Level 10 difficulty in English Pronounciation AND GRAMMAR, she could not make and deliver a sentence without the pauses, stutters, ahhhs, ahmmms and the rolling of her eyeballs in her eye sockets. Talk about EFFICIENT LEADERS in the company. She'd be a perfect example.
This TL that I am talking about is also a TL made from China! At first, she would be nice to you in front of her bosses and peers, hugging them, exchanging cheek-to-cheek "besos" (kisses from Satan) and some simple chit-chats, and once she's through, she'll be this TL that grows an unusually long claws and canines ready to fiercely devour you and make you feel that she's in control.
I could not even describe how evil she is. I know China is a country that capitalizes in cheap labor and mass production that results in low grade end-products. This lady is exactly the same, or should I say, WORSE. She'd ask you to laugh discreetly or not-so-loud when she in fact flirts and laughs like a classless bitch you can hire in exchange of a dental floss or a "jolly-jeep meal". She's a low grade, classless and a dumbass bitch who just got lucky for a promotion.
Grrrrr... She's getting in my nerves... And we were just on the floor for how many days. I just hope I can ignore her and make her invisible long enough. But on a positive note, thanks to her I made an interesting blog entry. And why would I be worried about her, she's just there to make my life interesting, I hope.
P.S.
OTHER THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT HER
1. She doesn't have a fashion sense AT ALL. She lives by the
all-shades-of-brown outfit a.k.a. brown-kung-brown
2. She doesn't even work hard.
3. All she does is send text messages. That's why she looks
like a big infected thumb with pus.
4. She looks at her PC and works on something for hours, even if
it's just a MEMO, an excel document or a Yahoo!Messenger chat box.
5. She acts a total classless bitch laughing and giggling with her
peers and superiors projecting an image totally different from
her real self.
6. She's cheap and is not worth an ounce of respect.
And MY GAME PLAN!
1. Play her game and get close to her.
2. Stab her in the back soon.
3. Make her life a living hell.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Saturday Mayhem
Today is such a lame day. Today is the official start of my weekend and my friends are just not in the mood to go out and have a good time!!! Do they ever know what nightlife is like? All my friends are nowhere to be found. They're either in their state of hibernation (sleepyheads!!!) or God knows what they're doing... Partypoopers!!!
Damn it... I am so bored to death. I have pratically watched all day. Scanned channels and what's worse is there is nothing interesting to watch. Can just anyone shoot me in the head to end my misery?
I practically utilized all my options and done everything from my to-do list. Watched tv while having my lunch, check. Prepared my laundry for later, check. Thought of my crush, check. Checked my email, done. Talked with strangers through Yahoo Messenger, done... And now here I am in front of my old PC, updating my blog and writing all this non-sense blah, blahs.
(Sighs) Now that I am stuck at home, done watching all my favorite koreanovelas, I don't know what to do next. I just have to make do with what I have. Hmmm, since I am all alone I can watch porn all night and jack-off til my privies sore. But I am not going to do that. That is not very becoming, people might think I am some sick virgin gone delirious because of zero sexual encounters. But come to think of it, that's not a pretty bad idea afterall. Haha! Kidding! There's no fun in that either! :)
Damn it... I am so bored to death. I have pratically watched all day. Scanned channels and what's worse is there is nothing interesting to watch. Can just anyone shoot me in the head to end my misery?
I practically utilized all my options and done everything from my to-do list. Watched tv while having my lunch, check. Prepared my laundry for later, check. Thought of my crush, check. Checked my email, done. Talked with strangers through Yahoo Messenger, done... And now here I am in front of my old PC, updating my blog and writing all this non-sense blah, blahs.
(Sighs) Now that I am stuck at home, done watching all my favorite koreanovelas, I don't know what to do next. I just have to make do with what I have. Hmmm, since I am all alone I can watch porn all night and jack-off til my privies sore. But I am not going to do that. That is not very becoming, people might think I am some sick virgin gone delirious because of zero sexual encounters. But come to think of it, that's not a pretty bad idea afterall. Haha! Kidding! There's no fun in that either! :)
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Buffet a la PIMP-les!
Just when I thought I have outsmarted puberty that it suddenly visits me again out of nowhere. Don't you hate that curly hair growing on your legs until they become public pubic hair everytime you wear those shorts? Don't you just abhor that soft and silky skin turned into some grim and dark mudpit you get from exposure mostly from the sun? Don't you just LOVE your armpits growing those vicious hair that get wet whenever you perspire? Don't you LOVE them?
Well there are certain things that I liked transforming from a little boy to a guy, a term they call puberty, which by the way is confusing since I think there's just little relevance to the word compared to transformation of the body. For one, it made me a LOT taller that I was before. From the first to the middle in line is not a bad improvement at all. And that's because of puberty, too. Had I known masturbation is encouraged to boost your height at an early age, I would have done so in the past in my early years. What's there to lose than an excess teaspon of immature, sticky semen? Height is everything. Semen can be reproduced hard core by the two hardworking balls especially when horny.
Puberty also causes hormonal changes. Kids my age who used to have the soprano and operatic suddenly got stuck with the heavy, deep tenor vocals. And as for me, I got stuck with the pitchy and loud voice because of genetics. Bone structures change as well. Guys become more mascular, girls become more feminine. Girls start to go thru menstruation, and as for guys, they learn to sneak and crawl to their father's lair of porn, dirty and nude magazines with male and/or female bodies to pleasure themselves, hahaha!
But apart from all of these, what I hate most about this silly metamorphosis are those little and sometimes volcano crater-like zits that don't seem to stop from growing in the face, back and everywhere. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the worst and my archenemy - buffet a la PIMP-les!!!
Pimples are like your enemies, they sometimes treat you nice and good. But once you diss them off and argue with them, the sudden ungodly inflammation and wrath of these tiny mother fuckers would just grow from your hair follicles til they become gigantic life-forms! They would fill your face up with zits and pus til there is no room for confidence! And they get the best of you. And after these crazy mother fuckers subsided, these scars would be left to scorn you for life! Just like your enemies.
Yes it's part of puberty, the good and the bad to balance it. But the truth of the matter is, I AM NOT transforming anymore. I AM DONE WITH PUBERTY! And still these tiny little lumps filled with bacteria just won't leave me alone. Sometimes, they let me be for a few days but these tiny, deadly and unmerciful zits just retaliate again, not just one or two but in groups. And boy they like to cuddle in one exact area, giving you a one big red bump and lump that looks like a burrow of an anthill or a cocoon. Fuck!
I have tried absolutely everything. From ointments to going to top notch dermatologists for facials and treatments. Thanks to Dra. Vicki Belo it made my skin a lot better. Thanks to that Vitamin A overdose intake that almost got me broke and scared of cholesterol as this medication does something from the inside to screw your gland secretion. It made my skin better but still, I have them, not in throngs but only mild breakouts this time. What can I do, I have an oily skin, my skin secretes too much oil that mainly causes my break-outs mixed with the worst environmental conditions in the country. Anyhow, thanks to my oily skin as well it makes rejuvenation and my youth intact, hihihi!!! I am still lucky...
I must admit it brings you down and it wrecks your self-confidence, it's true. BIGTIME! But all of you suffering or had suffered and still choose to live unnoticed, consider yourselves lucky and beautiful. Channel that negativity into something else and rediscover yourself. Focus on what you can become and not what you are at the moment. Great gifts are wrapped simple, sometimes even undesirable to conceal it's worth. Caterpillars are given the chance to become butterflies. And you, what more!
After all, beauty is just skin-deep. But it's important to be comfortable in your own skin, too with or without the Buffet a la PIMP-les!!!
Well there are certain things that I liked transforming from a little boy to a guy, a term they call puberty, which by the way is confusing since I think there's just little relevance to the word compared to transformation of the body. For one, it made me a LOT taller that I was before. From the first to the middle in line is not a bad improvement at all. And that's because of puberty, too. Had I known masturbation is encouraged to boost your height at an early age, I would have done so in the past in my early years. What's there to lose than an excess teaspon of immature, sticky semen? Height is everything. Semen can be reproduced hard core by the two hardworking balls especially when horny.
Puberty also causes hormonal changes. Kids my age who used to have the soprano and operatic suddenly got stuck with the heavy, deep tenor vocals. And as for me, I got stuck with the pitchy and loud voice because of genetics. Bone structures change as well. Guys become more mascular, girls become more feminine. Girls start to go thru menstruation, and as for guys, they learn to sneak and crawl to their father's lair of porn, dirty and nude magazines with male and/or female bodies to pleasure themselves, hahaha!
But apart from all of these, what I hate most about this silly metamorphosis are those little and sometimes volcano crater-like zits that don't seem to stop from growing in the face, back and everywhere. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the worst and my archenemy - buffet a la PIMP-les!!!
Pimples are like your enemies, they sometimes treat you nice and good. But once you diss them off and argue with them, the sudden ungodly inflammation and wrath of these tiny mother fuckers would just grow from your hair follicles til they become gigantic life-forms! They would fill your face up with zits and pus til there is no room for confidence! And they get the best of you. And after these crazy mother fuckers subsided, these scars would be left to scorn you for life! Just like your enemies.
Yes it's part of puberty, the good and the bad to balance it. But the truth of the matter is, I AM NOT transforming anymore. I AM DONE WITH PUBERTY! And still these tiny little lumps filled with bacteria just won't leave me alone. Sometimes, they let me be for a few days but these tiny, deadly and unmerciful zits just retaliate again, not just one or two but in groups. And boy they like to cuddle in one exact area, giving you a one big red bump and lump that looks like a burrow of an anthill or a cocoon. Fuck!
I have tried absolutely everything. From ointments to going to top notch dermatologists for facials and treatments. Thanks to Dra. Vicki Belo it made my skin a lot better. Thanks to that Vitamin A overdose intake that almost got me broke and scared of cholesterol as this medication does something from the inside to screw your gland secretion. It made my skin better but still, I have them, not in throngs but only mild breakouts this time. What can I do, I have an oily skin, my skin secretes too much oil that mainly causes my break-outs mixed with the worst environmental conditions in the country. Anyhow, thanks to my oily skin as well it makes rejuvenation and my youth intact, hihihi!!! I am still lucky...
I must admit it brings you down and it wrecks your self-confidence, it's true. BIGTIME! But all of you suffering or had suffered and still choose to live unnoticed, consider yourselves lucky and beautiful. Channel that negativity into something else and rediscover yourself. Focus on what you can become and not what you are at the moment. Great gifts are wrapped simple, sometimes even undesirable to conceal it's worth. Caterpillars are given the chance to become butterflies. And you, what more!
After all, beauty is just skin-deep. But it's important to be comfortable in your own skin, too with or without the Buffet a la PIMP-les!!!
Thursday, June 08, 2006
A Fallen Leaf
I am as good as a leaf that has fallen from a tree. I am no special.
God created me like everyone else. As normal as I can be. I am physically endowed, pretty much the same as everybody else. I have eyes, arms, legs, feet, a heart and a brain just like most of us. In that case, I am no special.
I am dissed off at times. Worse, Maltreated. I maltreat someone, too. I am misjudged. I also misjudged people. I have lustful dreams, and a few times, nightmares. I am just like you.
I am no different physically. But in the outside, I am a totally different package. I maybe Asian, termed by most by the uncivilized as a brown monkey but I am no different than a Caucasian, European or African guy.
I am unique in different ways. I think, unlike most males who use testosterone for judgment. I act according to my will. If you think you know me, you better think again. You are in for a surprise of your life.
A leaf, once fallen from a tree goes places. Once airborne, it can even reach the skies and kiss the clouds.
God created me like everyone else. As normal as I can be. I am physically endowed, pretty much the same as everybody else. I have eyes, arms, legs, feet, a heart and a brain just like most of us. In that case, I am no special.
I am dissed off at times. Worse, Maltreated. I maltreat someone, too. I am misjudged. I also misjudged people. I have lustful dreams, and a few times, nightmares. I am just like you.
I am no different physically. But in the outside, I am a totally different package. I maybe Asian, termed by most by the uncivilized as a brown monkey but I am no different than a Caucasian, European or African guy.
I am unique in different ways. I think, unlike most males who use testosterone for judgment. I act according to my will. If you think you know me, you better think again. You are in for a surprise of your life.
A leaf, once fallen from a tree goes places. Once airborne, it can even reach the skies and kiss the clouds.
Sex and Something more
It never fails to entertain me whenever I think about sex. The word sex, the three-letter word that seems to mean a lot of things is just so amazing. Who would forget the burning sensation of capital S-E-X in the verge of bursting and exchanging bodily fluids between you and your partner, ahem! basing this thru the books that I read and not-so-dirty mags that I pick up every once in a while of course. (And pls, don't ever think that it came from a personal experience. I am not a classless asshole bitch, at least not yet. Haha!) Who would forget that aggressive couple who all of a sudden are parents because the guy just was so caught up in passion he forgot to put a condom on and suddenly impregnated his girlfriend. Who would forget that one crazy little boy who tried to rape his playmate just because he wanted to put his small dick in that little girl's skirt all for the sake of fun. Who would forget that married man who all of a sudden was cock-less because he was caught cheating by his wife. Geez, how does he even piss? Well, the list just goes on and on. And all of these because of this three simple letters, S, e and x.
Sex is a feeling. In fact, a burning sensation. Who would not want to experience that? Even Catholic priests and nuns could not contain that sudden urge of "mmmfff" feeling. Sometimes, that vow of celibacy would just have to be set aside. Who are we to blame them. They are after all humans with cocks and pussies. All after sex.
As with my case, there would always come a time that I think of it. Sometimes if not most of the time, even more. From a virgin's point of view, yes my friends, I AM, (Get over it!) it's so ideal. We always like to picture sex in some lucid and surreal dimension. No hassles, just pure satisfaction. No diseases, no ungodly misconduct but ungodly things and all for the sake of pure sex.
But the things is, everytime I think and I tell myself I want to do it, that's just the time that I back out. So many things pop in my head. The "what-ifs", "how-abouts" and "in-case" phrases just keep on going forever. There was this one time that I wanted to have sex and one step closer of doing it, it just gave me butterflies in my stomach. There goes the "what-ifs" etc. again. What if my sexual partner isn't safe? What if we want it unprotected? Will I end up one day in a hospital with a needle stuck in my right hand, having myself treated from AIDS just because of that one stupid mistake? Or will I walk away clean, divirginized brown-ass guy who just could not stop smiling because of that unforgettable sexual encounter? Will I like it? (duh!wrong question) and my worst what if... What if I like it so much I get so hooked up to it? Will I be some heartless sexual predator hunting alleys and streets for sex? Will I be caught most of the time in cheap motels with multiple unknown partners to satisfy the urge? Will I ever stop? You know, things like that...
Sex has became somewhat a responsibility for me. Yes, it can be so consuming and somewhat splendor but you can also end up in a hospital for an STD-treatment. A penicillin and a coconut juice can only do so much for you. Aggressive as youth can be, we can always take precautions and yes, sometimes be carefree.
Life may be a one, big red-and-black roullette (spellcheck, pls), but it's up to us to play it. Sex consumes you. Sex can also make you sane, happy, blah, blahs. I am not saying it's bad or anything. As for me, as long as there is my hand as my company, masturbation would do for me until I meet that selfish, drop-dead georgeous special someone who's diseased-free, stylish and clean-looking. And whoever you are, hurry up son of a bitch, will you... I met get tired waiting for you I might end up hiring a sex slave to satisfy my bursting, uncontrolled and unleashed sexual drive!!! All my waiting for nothing!!! Hahaha!
Sex is a feeling. In fact, a burning sensation. Who would not want to experience that? Even Catholic priests and nuns could not contain that sudden urge of "mmmfff" feeling. Sometimes, that vow of celibacy would just have to be set aside. Who are we to blame them. They are after all humans with cocks and pussies. All after sex.
As with my case, there would always come a time that I think of it. Sometimes if not most of the time, even more. From a virgin's point of view, yes my friends, I AM, (Get over it!) it's so ideal. We always like to picture sex in some lucid and surreal dimension. No hassles, just pure satisfaction. No diseases, no ungodly misconduct but ungodly things and all for the sake of pure sex.
But the things is, everytime I think and I tell myself I want to do it, that's just the time that I back out. So many things pop in my head. The "what-ifs", "how-abouts" and "in-case" phrases just keep on going forever. There was this one time that I wanted to have sex and one step closer of doing it, it just gave me butterflies in my stomach. There goes the "what-ifs" etc. again. What if my sexual partner isn't safe? What if we want it unprotected? Will I end up one day in a hospital with a needle stuck in my right hand, having myself treated from AIDS just because of that one stupid mistake? Or will I walk away clean, divirginized brown-ass guy who just could not stop smiling because of that unforgettable sexual encounter? Will I like it? (duh!wrong question) and my worst what if... What if I like it so much I get so hooked up to it? Will I be some heartless sexual predator hunting alleys and streets for sex? Will I be caught most of the time in cheap motels with multiple unknown partners to satisfy the urge? Will I ever stop? You know, things like that...
Sex has became somewhat a responsibility for me. Yes, it can be so consuming and somewhat splendor but you can also end up in a hospital for an STD-treatment. A penicillin and a coconut juice can only do so much for you. Aggressive as youth can be, we can always take precautions and yes, sometimes be carefree.
Life may be a one, big red-and-black roullette (spellcheck, pls), but it's up to us to play it. Sex consumes you. Sex can also make you sane, happy, blah, blahs. I am not saying it's bad or anything. As for me, as long as there is my hand as my company, masturbation would do for me until I meet that selfish, drop-dead georgeous special someone who's diseased-free, stylish and clean-looking. And whoever you are, hurry up son of a bitch, will you... I met get tired waiting for you I might end up hiring a sex slave to satisfy my bursting, uncontrolled and unleashed sexual drive!!! All my waiting for nothing!!! Hahaha!
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Change
Thing have definitely changed. The only thing that motivated me to come to work has been take away from me. Today is the third day of having to go to work without my former team members. They, too got transferred to different teams. I must say I do not miss all of them, but I definitely miss the things that we do together. The things that we argue about, which were mainly nonsense.
One thing I miss the most would be the noise we all create together during avail (avail = when there are no calls) time. We just try to kill time and just laugh at something that we think is funny. Though now I could get to feel the vibe of my new time, it still won't be the same. There won't be familiar faces anymore. No distinct laughs. No definite things in common we used to share together.
I guess life means moving on. Getting to accept change as it is. And try not forgetting the good times. And speaking of change, there would definitely be a big change in all of our lives. After we have been dispersed in different teams, this is much worse. XM RADIO, the program that we work for has not renewed its contract to Convergys. THEY say Convergys was too expensive, but I guess it's deeper than that. Reasons that we don't and will never know.
So here we are again, starting from scratch. Trying to choose a different program to work for, again. A whole new environment, a whole new experience. New friends, new faces, new challenges. Though it may be good, I can't seem to ask myself, "What's going to happen next?"
I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what I will become in the future. Everything seems to have been all smoked up and hazy since I started to work and taste the dog-eat-dog environment. But no matter the situation is, all I know is I am destined to do something big. Something bigger than what my heart tells me.
So hang in there and watch me get it slowly. It may not be no yet, but I will surely get there.
One thing I miss the most would be the noise we all create together during avail (avail = when there are no calls) time. We just try to kill time and just laugh at something that we think is funny. Though now I could get to feel the vibe of my new time, it still won't be the same. There won't be familiar faces anymore. No distinct laughs. No definite things in common we used to share together.
I guess life means moving on. Getting to accept change as it is. And try not forgetting the good times. And speaking of change, there would definitely be a big change in all of our lives. After we have been dispersed in different teams, this is much worse. XM RADIO, the program that we work for has not renewed its contract to Convergys. THEY say Convergys was too expensive, but I guess it's deeper than that. Reasons that we don't and will never know.
So here we are again, starting from scratch. Trying to choose a different program to work for, again. A whole new environment, a whole new experience. New friends, new faces, new challenges. Though it may be good, I can't seem to ask myself, "What's going to happen next?"
I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what I will become in the future. Everything seems to have been all smoked up and hazy since I started to work and taste the dog-eat-dog environment. But no matter the situation is, all I know is I am destined to do something big. Something bigger than what my heart tells me.
So hang in there and watch me get it slowly. It may not be no yet, but I will surely get there.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
The Diary of a Call Center Slave
Time flies.
A couple of months ago, I just started working and now look at me, I am nearly reaching my sixth month - about to be regularized and about to lose most of my co-workers. Most of them have plans of resigning. It's either they found a better job (or at least would find one) or just plain burnt out of what we usually do for customers - solve their problems and sometimes even worse. But knowing the job vacancies in the Philippines where most of the people earned a college degree, THERE IS NO BETTER JOB. JOB FAIRS offer call center employments. Nothing more. I know so, been there, done that!
In a call center world, it's normal to burst into tears. Not because of joy but frustration. It's normal to hear agents shouting and cursing because of bad calls. It's absolutely normal. A perfectly abnormal setting in the outside world is the absolute normal setting in the call center world. You are paid to be the Americans' shock absorbers. You get to be blamed, shouted at and cursed for something that you did not do. That my friend is the cost of a good paying job here in the Third World Country. We work for every single penny we get. And mind you, most of the time even more. We don't get to have that downtime and idle time where most employees get in their eight-hour-jobs. Our worktime is closely monitored, no time to socialize with co-workers and lunchbreaks are the sickest thing. We go on lunches separately and at different schedules. And no overlunches and overbreaks, otherwise, salary deduction!
In a call center world, we do almost everything. Get to answer calls, one after the other with absolutely no stop. Sometimes it's so sickening you just wished no phones were invented or phones were busted. But whichever the case is, we still would do it all over again all for the sake of money. Money that keeps the world going. Period.
(Sighs.) Gruelling as it is, my job I mean, it pays the bills. It gives me a rather convenient life. If only phonecalls could get me rich, I am now a billionaire. I might be in Carribean even as we speak tanning my butt off and feasting my eyes with men's sculpted bodies flaunting and floating on the sand beaches. But reality check, it's a harsh world. I am not one of the fortunate ones who come from a rich family. I am not bryanboy who constantly travels from one country to the other and regards his journey as just a trip from his house to Starbucks. I am not Paris Hilton whose brain floats in tequilla and goes spending my parents millions to party and be drunk all night everyday. I am not like her whose hobby is to do a sex video and get it available online just because I could not do something more. Unlike the rich and the famous, I need to work to survive. I need to work to pay for the conveniences of life and basic commodities.
Had I known I would be in this business, I should have never studied and squeezed my brains off to graduate, earn a degree and be in this mudpit.
Call Center is a good business. And I am not saying it's an easy job. Hell no!?! It takes a lot of patience to deal and make it in the business. You'll learn to smoke cigarettes (some like crack better), curse while on mute and get back to the customer with all smiles pretending you're unaffected, bitch around after a very bad call, practice the art of selective plasticism (Selective plasticism, a term I used to refer to being good to people who can influence your way up because brilliance and hardwork won't get you there!. In laymans term, sucking up to your bosses.) and to some, get a whole lot of fucking buddies. It takes a lot more if the company you're working for does not recognize your potential and your superior just milk out money from you with her butt tied to her chair doing absolutely nothing!
A lot happens in this business. But that's life - harsh, cruel and selfish. You have to set aside your ideals and principles in the meantime, go with the flow and learn the tools of the trade. That my friend is the bitter truth of the Call Center Business. Very glamorous, huh?
A couple of months ago, I just started working and now look at me, I am nearly reaching my sixth month - about to be regularized and about to lose most of my co-workers. Most of them have plans of resigning. It's either they found a better job (or at least would find one) or just plain burnt out of what we usually do for customers - solve their problems and sometimes even worse. But knowing the job vacancies in the Philippines where most of the people earned a college degree, THERE IS NO BETTER JOB. JOB FAIRS offer call center employments. Nothing more. I know so, been there, done that!
In a call center world, it's normal to burst into tears. Not because of joy but frustration. It's normal to hear agents shouting and cursing because of bad calls. It's absolutely normal. A perfectly abnormal setting in the outside world is the absolute normal setting in the call center world. You are paid to be the Americans' shock absorbers. You get to be blamed, shouted at and cursed for something that you did not do. That my friend is the cost of a good paying job here in the Third World Country. We work for every single penny we get. And mind you, most of the time even more. We don't get to have that downtime and idle time where most employees get in their eight-hour-jobs. Our worktime is closely monitored, no time to socialize with co-workers and lunchbreaks are the sickest thing. We go on lunches separately and at different schedules. And no overlunches and overbreaks, otherwise, salary deduction!
In a call center world, we do almost everything. Get to answer calls, one after the other with absolutely no stop. Sometimes it's so sickening you just wished no phones were invented or phones were busted. But whichever the case is, we still would do it all over again all for the sake of money. Money that keeps the world going. Period.
(Sighs.) Gruelling as it is, my job I mean, it pays the bills. It gives me a rather convenient life. If only phonecalls could get me rich, I am now a billionaire. I might be in Carribean even as we speak tanning my butt off and feasting my eyes with men's sculpted bodies flaunting and floating on the sand beaches. But reality check, it's a harsh world. I am not one of the fortunate ones who come from a rich family. I am not bryanboy who constantly travels from one country to the other and regards his journey as just a trip from his house to Starbucks. I am not Paris Hilton whose brain floats in tequilla and goes spending my parents millions to party and be drunk all night everyday. I am not like her whose hobby is to do a sex video and get it available online just because I could not do something more. Unlike the rich and the famous, I need to work to survive. I need to work to pay for the conveniences of life and basic commodities.
Had I known I would be in this business, I should have never studied and squeezed my brains off to graduate, earn a degree and be in this mudpit.
Call Center is a good business. And I am not saying it's an easy job. Hell no!?! It takes a lot of patience to deal and make it in the business. You'll learn to smoke cigarettes (some like crack better), curse while on mute and get back to the customer with all smiles pretending you're unaffected, bitch around after a very bad call, practice the art of selective plasticism (Selective plasticism, a term I used to refer to being good to people who can influence your way up because brilliance and hardwork won't get you there!. In laymans term, sucking up to your bosses.) and to some, get a whole lot of fucking buddies. It takes a lot more if the company you're working for does not recognize your potential and your superior just milk out money from you with her butt tied to her chair doing absolutely nothing!
A lot happens in this business. But that's life - harsh, cruel and selfish. You have to set aside your ideals and principles in the meantime, go with the flow and learn the tools of the trade. That my friend is the bitter truth of the Call Center Business. Very glamorous, huh?
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