Some kick ass techo violin I found in the internet. Only the first half's worth the ear though. Good stuff anyway. Reminds me of the graceless ballerinas in Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s Harrison Bergeron.

Five steps to this blog's self-destruction:

1. Remove all cached pages in Google
2. Remove all feed syndication
3. Refrain from updating this site
4. Have the broadband internet disconnected
5. Shut down this site?

Goodlordy I am undergoing cerebral constipation.XP Many a time have I sat in front of this blinking monitor screen with my head pounding for something to write, when lo! The pounding in my head's actually but a simulation of the beating of my alcohol-swollen heart crazing hormones out the nervous system of my body just relaxing the tension off my muscles at the same time massaging my delicate, err, yunno, kilikili.XP

I don't like it when I get drunk and horny. I know everybody wants to get drunk and horny and pass onto some horny devil to be raped and violated like a fifteenth century slave girl--that's about half a century years old by now. o_o But get this, not all women want to get drunk and horny and raped and forgotten. Of course, that's what kids do these days, only that a large horrendous portion of them get drunk and horny craving to be raped even if it takes to have a paper bag wrapped around their head. Then there are those who get drunk and horny and are forced to get violated by someone whom they just met for the first time. They wake up in the morning, shake the hangover off their heads, and move on with the rest of the day. Later the violator incites a conversation with his inamorata through a phone call, wondering how she is and how her day went and how is she going to spend the rest of the night. The girl sucks her teeth and before answering any of his questions, asks why does he even care. Regression of traditional courtship--even if one still exists today--starts with the carnal stage, then to the getting to know stage, then the friendship stage, then the introduction stage. The final scene goes like this:

Boy: tangina mahal na kita!
Girl: tangina, di nga??
Boy: pakshet, ayaw maniwala!
Girl: gagu, naniniwala na!
Boy: tarantado, yan lang sasabihin mo??
Girl: puta! mahal din kita!

At ayun na nga, they lived happily ever after.XP

I don't even think I'm ever going to have a boyfriend any time soon. Or a husband even, ten years later. I rather see myself a career woman, with an immature frame of mind, and a repulsive sex appeal that'll men feel like a laboratory specimen. I am too calculating and arrogant to have one, and my skills for manipulating my emotions have gone to heights even to point of reversing our roles--I become the control-freak and he becomes my slave. Is bad. Ionno if that's my defect, cos I have ruined nearly all my past relationships because of that. And it takes a man more virile than me to turn me back to a woman. I used to have wiener before, you know.o_0

BEH.

Nothing matters. So the fact that nothing matters doesn't matter. Might as well seize the day, then.
-- Meta and Meta

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