Sunday, Bloody Sunday.
September 30, 2007So I just got back from watching Resident Evil: Extinction. The first two films didn't do much for me, so I might have to re-watch my DVDs, because I re-hee-hee-heally liked this one. Stupid cuts, though. I didn't really look much into the info regarding the film before seeing it, so I was surprised to see Paul W.S. Anderson coming back and being credited with the screenplay. He wrote the first two movies from the series, and helmed one of my favoritest films of all time: Event Horizon. Also:
Ari Rarter! Mirra! Herrrooo!
Nuninu ninu. So I looked into my wallet and found that I only had this much money to last me until the next payday, which is on the 5th (Friday):
My life is good! Real good!
Any-huway, I was at the mall earlier, yeah? We stopped by O Music and Video and I saw that the new Foo Fighters album was already on sale. I've been wanting this album for, like, forever and I can't wait to plug it in for a spin in Fernando/Whore, which by the way is the name of my sexy automobile. I've actually been saving this spot in one of my CD racks for this particular album:
Michael Myers action figure, to your right.
It's right below their first five albums (which are in chronological order, thank you very much), and above my Jackson United, Queens of the Stone Age, and Eagles of Death Metal albums. "So why, pray tell, did you not purchase the CD earlier, Mr. Coco? Oh yeah that's right, YOU DON'T HAVE ANY MONEY." There, you just answered your own question, douche.
I need a new job. Speaking of which, I finally got that interview with the Korean lady that I was talking about a couple of entries back. Um, it didn't go well.
Korean Lady: How would you explain the words "ear" and "night" to 9 year-old, non-English-speaking Koreans?
Coco: "Ear" is the part of your body which you use for hearing. *points to ear*
Coco: And "night" is the part of the day that isn't… daytime. Erm.
I am so screwed.
So You’re De-Evolving.
September 24, 2007(Courtesy of the Pau.)
Do you find that your facial hair is starting to spread past your face? Are your knuckles a few inches closer to the ground than normal? Do you feel like you’re spending more and more time climbing trees and throwing feces at your friends?
Well these are the classic signs of what is known as De-Evolving. Don’t be afraid, a lot of people have gone through this phenomenon, and they are now settling fine in their respective zoos.
Hopefully, this guide which we have devised can make the transition from being a Homo Sexual Homo Sapien to Missing Link an easy and enjoyable one for you.
Identifying the Signs.
Now, the first thing to do is to make sure you are indeed de-evolving. In the early days, diagnosing this condition was easy as pie. All you have to do is ask your friends one simple question:
“Hey, am I dumb?”
If the answer is yes, then you are either de-evolving or Chris Crocker.
Now, because of techno music, habit forming drugs, and Dan Brown books; it’s gotten hard to tell if people are de-evolving or are just plain dumb. But thanks to our research and a recent encounter with a de-evolvee, we’ve come up with a list of signs by which you can tell if you are climbing down the evolution ladder.
Loss of Common Knowledge.
This is a very tricky thing to test for. First of all, it really depends on how much common knowledge you currently have. So for the sake of SCIENCE, we’ll work with what we like to call the Carrot Top unit of measure.
For example, ability to recite the whole alphabet is equivalent to 1 Carrot Top:
Ability to find your way back home is 2 Carrot Tops:
Ability to pee while not missing the bowl entirely is 1/2 Carrot Top:
And so on and so forth.
And not being able to come up with an original thought warrants the special rating of Carrot Top with Pie in Face (CTWPIF):
Now, if your Carrot Top rating goes way below half of a Carrot Top, or even the dreaded CTWPIF, then you better have your mail forwarded to the nearest zoo because that’s where you’ll be staying from now on.
Normally, people who can walk a straight line without bumping into things don’t have to worry about their Carrot Top levels. However, if somebody asks you “Hey, when’s your birthday?” and you suddenly answer “Orange!” then feel free to contact any of us to get your official Carrot Top rating.
What Next?
So your Carrot Top rating is dangerously low. What do you do? Your first impulse would be to create a blog and fill it up with content stolen from other blogs. But trust us, this is not the way to go.
Yes, we understand that you want to make others think that not only you can write a coherent sentence, but are able to come up with mildly entertaining blog entries, it would be better to refrain. Because you’re not fooling anybody. Also, plagiarizing is not the solution to de-evolving or “being a fat fattie” as it is known in the streets.
But if you do insist on creating a blog, don’t use a profile picture that hides most of your face with your elbow which rests on one of the ugliest canes on the internet.
Not only does it tell people how ugly your elbow is, but it also tells us that have a Mao Tse Tung-shaped growth coming out of your right shoulder. And nobody gets any respect from that. Even if your Mao Tse Tung growth can talk.
Sadly, the de-evolving process is irreversible. Once you’ve been diagnosed, there is no going back. Best thing to do is make peace with your fate, pack up on several dozen combs, and just don’t copy anybody’s work and pass it off as your own.
Look on the bright side, you’ll be eating healthier, you will get plenty of exercise swinging from tree branches, and best of all, you will lose all inhibitions about whacking off in public.
===
Note: Inspired by Jonathan Coulton’s awesome song.
Friday Night Blarghopufts.
September 21, 2007I don't know about Fritz or Bim, but it's been two days and my asshole is still burning from those spicy-ass Korean noodles that we ate.
Speaking of Korea, I was supposed to have gone to a job interview today, for a part-time English tutoring for Koreans gig. The interview lady no-showed, but it's cool since their office is in the same building as ours. I can drop by again on Monday. I need as much money as I can get right now, because I intend to: a) Go to Hong Kong or Cebu before the year ends, b) buy the latest/upcoming releases from The Rapture, Motion City Soundtrack, Jimmy Eat World, Cartel, Arctic Monkeys, Foo Fighters, Armor For Sleep, Secret Machines, Angels & Airwaves, Wu-Tang Clan, and a shitload of other music, and c) sustain my (I like to call it) "attraction" to a little alcohol.
Speaking of booze, I puked in front of a friend's house at 6 in the morning last Saturday. She was leaving in a few hours to go back to the States, and I wasn't even supposed to see her that day. As fate would have it, I found myself driving back from Makati at 4 in the morning that Saturday, chugging a liter of gin-pineapple in under an hour at another friend's place here in Las Piñas, driving to her place, throwing up in her front yard, and hugging her to say goodbye - something which, like I said, wasn't supposed to even happen, given an elaborate case of time constraints. Anyway, she got me The Starting Line's new CD, and it came with an autographed booklet and a t-shirt.
Kitkat and I from a coupla years back. Autographed Starting Line CD. Yeah, boiiii.
Another friend also came home from abroad a few weeks ago. He is, hands down, the funniest person I know. Read a bit about our more recent escapades here. Anyway, he's gone back to China now. Your sudden knack for the shittiest types of alcohol is starting to worry me, Huey.
Huey and the Beer Tower at Gerry's Grill.
Anyway, my left eye's been twitching since last night. So, toodles.
Dealing With Break-Ups: The Whoopi Goldberg Masturbation Challenge
September 13, 2007If I had a dime for every time I had my heart broken this year alone, I’d have about ninety cents. A break-up, even if you and your significant other get back together eventually, is still a break-up. And I don’t know about you, but to me, each one hurts as much as having my nipples severed slowly with a nailcutter.
“Around nine break-ups this year alone, eh?” I wouldn’t say that I’ve gotten used to it. Like I mentioned earlier, each one brings an equal amount of pain. But what I did learn from my relationship fuck-ups is that the more I think about my troubles, the more depressed I get. All I needed was to do was distract myself, because honestly, a mere 15 minutes of not being reminded of how romantically doomed I am for all eternity would be of great help. So I recently devised an activity to serve as a diversion to better cope with my run-of-the-mill heartache. Being the awesome guy that I am, I’m sharing it with you. But you’ll have to pay me.
This activity is called “The Whoopi Goldberg Masturbation Challenge.” It’s pretty self-explanatory, but this isn’t as easy as it sounds. For starters, you’re trying to beat off to Whoopi Goldberg.
Whoopi Goldberg. Oh yeah.
And I’m making this game a little more interesting, because if tugging it to Whoopi Goldberg weren’t difficult enough, wait until you hear this: Searching for Photoshopped fakes on the internet doesn’t count, so what you have to do is actually procure a copy a Whoopi Goldberg full-length feature and masturbate to a particular scene with her in it.
Surely you have a few Whoopi Goldberg tapes lying around in your house somewhere. I personally have The Color Purple (Hey, it’s Spielberg), Ghost (Swayze!), Call Me Claus (It’s my sister’s I swear to God), and Bogus (Incidentally, Gerard Depardieu can be the subject of the female version of this masturbation challenge which, incidentally, would be called “The Gerard Depardieu Masturbation Challenge.” Duh. DUUUUH.)
Gerard Depardieu. Spicy.
Okay, so it’s probably going to take you at least 45 minutes to even get a chubby, but the whole point of it is to get as much time to take your mind off of your cunt of an ex. And constantly rewinding the scene of your choosing is a bit arduous, but that’s why it’s called “The Whoopi Goldberg Masturbation Challenge,” douche.
Anyway, the best part about this game is that I ALWAYS WIN. Sure, afterwards my penis would resemble Hilary Swank after she got beat up by those dudes in that movie where she pretended to be a dude and shit, but it’s all worth it. I know that you, too, would do anything to forget all about that slutbag ex of yours.
