…and what have you done? Another year over and a new one just begun. And still no comic to show for it. But anyway.
I’d like to greet my old homies in Manila a Merry Christmas, especially Neil and Boki! Sorry for being out of touch with you guys. I haven’t been touch with myself lately either. You prolly won’t even get to read this message, but I’m terribly capricious, so it doesn’t matter. Also a shout out to that guy who promised to shoot me an email sometime. You know who you are… Oliver.
Now that that’s out of the way, time to get back to work. Hopefully I don’t have to chime in again until I have something to show you Google-bots. So here’s to the new year! Let’s hope it’s a good one without any fear… and all that.
F**K YOU, 2009!!! You somehow managed to be a bigger disappointment than 2008 was (but to be fair, 2008 was pretty shite to begin with). What a crying shame.
All the same, cheers! My resolution for next year is to stop being such a perfectionist. That said, here’s hoping my life doesn’t end up being Duke Nukem Forever. Especially with regards to my comic book career. Which means I should get my rear in gear and stop blogging. Later, chilluns!
(Video ain’t mine, in case you were thinking of praising me. But you know, this gives me an idea…)
New blog category called brainfart (term coined by Elbert Or, but didn’t really catch on), where I just talk about whatever random idea comes into my head! Because I’m terribly capricious that way.
Speaking of sad faces… My current mood is
Boo, life, boo!
The one time I watch Broadway, and I had to watch the depressingly hilarious one.
Working in tech support means having to go every day to work listening to people whine about their problems all day on the phones, and then having to go home just to do the same thing, except without the ability to hang up and claim the line went dead.
And now, today’s top story… Within minutes of a grand heist being reported by a pub owner in the city of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, the police managed to to apprehend and handcuff two vicious criminals who refused to pay a $16 “mandatory” gratuity. The suspects claim they refuse to pay the tip due to supposedly poor customer service. The two have now been charged with theft and are scheduled to appear at a court hearing soon. Truly a crowning moment for Pennsylvania’s finest.
In other news, people are idiots. I mean, sure, maybe those guys were being whiny cheapskates, but theft? Seriously.
And what in God’s name is a “mandatory” gratuity? Tsk! Crazy Westerners and their crazy vocabulary… Next they’ll tell you “wicked” actually means “awesome”! Oh, wait.
It’s hard to keep your head up when you’re born into a family of clinically depressed people (and we have the medical certificates to prove it… as far as you know). Thankfully we have the magic of a Pacquiao pay-per-view fight to give us something to stare at other than the floor every now and then. This last fight was definitely worth every penny (and then some, since I get half-price with my employee discount)–Cotto was one tough cookie, lasting the entire twelve rounds and giving Pacquiao what-for in the first few rounds at least. (Cotto’s wife and son left the arena in tears during Round 10, which I would assume made Cotto lose a good deal of his moxie in he last two rounds and thus gets soundly thrashed by Pacquiao near the end–but that’s a story for another time.)
I cannot believe this guy's only 5 years older than me. Gawd, I feel like such a pussy willow.
Pacquiao’s win had good timing–with the recent calamity of Typhoon Ketsana literally dampening Filipinos’ spirits everywhere, they at least had one good thing to be happy about. But part of me can’t help but think that after the initial euphoria of victory wears out, people will start realizing that they’re still wading waist-deep in their own sewage and start being resentful. “Oh gee, Manny, it’s great that you won and all, but it’s not like your earnings go straight to the typhoon rehab fund, so, you know… Whoop-de-frickin’-doo.” …And I just made myself sad again. I blame genetics.
Anyway. You may have noticed that I, zemzelett, would like to comment about current events just a few days after they were still making headlines. It’s like serving lukewarm soup–it’s not too cold, but not quite deliciously hot anymore. That’s because for one, I don’t have a Twitter account to indulge my ego with, like, say, some people. Secondly, my brain filter doesn’t work fast enough to make a non-offensive article in due time for it to still be very relevant (and even after all that editing it’s still not guaranteed to not be, um, what’s the word… shite). So I created a new category for that on this blog called recently current news. As Arale would say, “Cul!” Aaand that’s all for now.
If you squint really hard, you can see me and Steph Song making out in the back. Also, you have to use your imagination.
So I went to this 54-40 concert at the Commodore Ballroom last month and somehow ended up experiencing my own version of a Native American Vision Quest (and I’m almost completely positive it wasn’t the beer making me see things). Needless to say, I picked up a handful of life-changing realizations along the way, such as:
This was actually the first concert I ever went to (that wasn’t a Broadway musical or a Tchaikovsky ballet, anyway).
This was also the first time I ever won free concert tickets to anything.
Beer gives me terrible gas.
I had no idea who the hell 54-40 was until the day before the concert.
You can still enjoy a concert even if you don’t particularly care for the music, as long as you can feel the energy from the performance. And wow, what a performance that was.
I have no idea how to take pictures in the dark.
On an unrelated note, I’m still stuck in a creative and emotional rut. It’s been what, six months now? Being an adult sucks.
Hey, loyal Google-bots! After many months of experiencing yet another funk of Dave Chappelle proportions, the zem is back. Maybe just for the meantime because life’s being a bitch, but he’s back nonetheless. So nyah. But anyway.
By now, everyone’s probably heard of how the disastrous typhoon Ondoy all but wiped out Metro Manila from the face of the map. I feel compelled to comment on it–partly because my hometown of Cainta, Rizal practically disappeared under the deluge, but partly because I feel like I’m missing out on the action somehow…
Inappropriate, misplaced nostalgia? Maybe.
Mind you, it’s not that I’m envious of the victims of the flood who lost their homes, their possessions, and even their loved ones. Far from it. It’s just that there’s all this chaos, and the raw human emotions that are born out of it, and somehow I feel like I have no place in it. It’s like when your friends go to this awesome party and they tell you, “Man, you should’ve been there!” and they tell you about all the awesome stuff that happened, and all you can do is nod and say, “That’s whatever-you-said for ya.” Except, you know, instead of a party, it was a catastrophic natural disaster.
Joking aside, the best I can do right now is–and I hate to admit it–some halfhearted sympathy for the people affected by the flood. I never really did like the concept of sympathy. It’s too… forced, I suppose. There’s more honesty to be found in empathy. As the saying goes, you can only cry and laugh with a person if you’ve walked a mile in their shoes. Or something like that. Or in this case, swimming to the rescue of a family of five stranded on a rooftop. Whatever. The point is, I can’t share these strong emotions my (ex-)fellow Filipinos are experiencing even if I forced myself to, and I feel horrible for it. I’d like to think that I used to, but I wonder about that too nowadays. Regardless, my prayers are with them, for all the good it may do.
Maybe I’m just left starry-eyed by the idea of that unbelievably dramatic rescue that actor Richard Gutierrez did for fellow actress Cristine Reyes when the latter and her family got stranded on the rooftop of their home. And he did it with a military speedboat, no less.
I told you not to expect Owl Comics #2. As you can see, it’s not here yet. Maybe ever. Or not. I’m terribly capricious, you see.
Anyway. I haven’t been blogging too much lately. Grown-up matters have been keeping me busy, you see. Work, bills, investment banking… you know, the usual. Except without the things that actually make being a grown-up fun. Like sex.
It’s slowly starting to sink in–short of either working myself to death or giving up my day job, I can’t make a full-fledged comic book epic–or at least get anywhere with it significantly. I have the bestest story ever just flailing wildly inside my head, and I can’t find the time to get it out! At this rate, I’ll hit the big Three-Oh without ever accomplishing anything awesome with my life (and by awesome, I mean Jack Black bodacious).
And then he'll hit the big Three-Oh and he'll be like, "Where did my childhood go?", at which point he'll open up his own amusement park and dress up as Peter Pan.
11-year-old Moshe Kai Cavalin is set to graduate from college by the end of June, and by gum, has he got grandiose plans in store for his bright future! Taken from NBC LA:
“I feel it’s a waste of time playing video games because it’s not helping humanity in any way,” says the 11-year-old, who wants to use his knowledge to change the world.
Well. I bet this kid is real popular at parties.
But congratulations nonetheless. Since we already have Michael Kearney working on a cure for cancer, I suggest that Moshe here should start drafting up the ultimate economic reform plan that’ll turn every person on the planet into a happy millionaire by 2015. (That wasn’t sarcasm, by the way. I’m watching you, kid!)
Yyyeah... No.
So! While Mr. Cavalin here is busy gearing up to be the god of the new world, the rest of us gamers will just sit here in the corner and play Left 4 Dead, because apparently we don’t give a darn about helping humanity!
Speaking of things that are a waste of humanity’s time… I’m still working on my comic. Really.
