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Zune HD June 29, 2009

Posted by oddmanin in Gadgetries.
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I’m sexually attracted to the Microsoft Zune HD due in September this year in the US. By this I mean I want to make love with it, regardless of whether or not it will reciprocate my lust. But because it is doubtful that the device will be made available in the Philippines, the much wanted love affair,  I fear will remain like a wasted limerent passion in which the object of desire is  eternally distant, unachievable, while the person experiencing limerence is thrown into a maddening state of suicidal desperation.

Perverts June 15, 2009

Posted by oddmanin in Life and loving it.
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I’ve already been called a pervert by a person I’ve been intimate with, and behind my back by persons who misunderstand me. I am not holding romantic notions about it: to be called a pervert is insulting, and the idea that other people think of you as a pervert without your knowing it is doubly insulting.

In truth, the world at large is teeming with perverts. Genuine, full-fledged, professional perverts. Those whose faces we see on a bus ride could be the faces of perverts. The security guards at your workplace could be perverts. Your boss, your neighbors, your favorite friends  – all twisted, perverted sentient vertebrates.  The person next to you now if you’re not alone is a pervert. You yourself could be a pervert and you should be consoled by the reality that you’re not alone.

I did say in one of my previous entries that my pathetic blog still gets visited, an average of 3 hits a day. Most of the hits are from search engine results. The keywords used to direct these searches to my site are the most ludicrous: “mother-son masturbation,” “sex with donkey,” love masturbation,” “odd donkey sex,” to name the most recent. I personally feel most of these random searches are driven by curiosity, though what surfaces as the greater possibility is that a forlorn, unloved, celibate, overweight man with Internet access in a poverty-stricken locale in Europe on a depressing night typed up the words on Google and looked for a website that could alleviate his suffering by momentary, visual delight.

I wish I were really writing about these subject matters. You’ll see below that I used the words in my compositions not in a perverse context but in objective, non-malicious, non-lascivious terms. However, this made me think that I can increase the use of these interesting words for the purpose of  jacking-up, inflating my blog stats. I can strategically use the word “dominatrix” partnered with “slave husband” (in a context not related to sex), or pepper my future compositions with phrases such as, “vegetable penis,” “suspended vagina,” “clamped butt-hole,” “sex with elephants,” “Teletubbies at foreplay” or “fun with eunuchs.”

New Year January 2, 2009

Posted by oddmanin in Uncategorized.
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It is the New Year. No matter what you do, you’re another year older. You’ve seen the paint on the kitchen walls chip off gradually over the past year. You’ve noticed the cats have less hair than before, shed off almost half their coat. The doorknobs in the bathroom and the main door of the house got busted and had to be replaced. Incipient cracks have formed on a few ceramic tiles in the living room. The skin around your eyes have become irreparably darker. They cut down the huge mango tree behind your house. The airy space it created was more like a void than ventilation. Loneliness descends upon you like a vast sheet of low density polyethylene wrap.

Halcyon times December 25, 2008

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Thirteenth month pay still intact. No troubling news from relatives overseas. A jar of peanut butter in the kitchen, waiting to be consumed. Meats abound in the freezer section of the refrigerator. No deaths in the family. No recent case of father losing a large amount of money in gambling. Pet dog’s nose is moist, healthy. Quiet times. Halcyon times.

Not yet here December 9, 2008

Posted by oddmanin in Love and other bullshit.
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I am at work. My throat is dry, or I can say dry due to the irritating feeling I can only ascribe to dryness. Coughing does not at all ease the persistent itching in my throat. My knowledge of over-the-counter medicines and convenient remedies to simple ailments proves inadequate. I can’t think of a quick cure to this discomfort. How I am tempted to swab my throat with petroleum jelly or any lubricating, moisturizing substance. However, my being at work prohibits me from carrying out such a desperate action, mainly for two reasons: the unavailability of these materials (no swabs and no petroleum jelly at my disposal) and the utter foolishness of the action (as at work I am primmer and less likely to adopt an illogical solution to a problem).
 
I am at work, and as obvious to you by simple inference, I am making use of company time, for which I am paid, to write these words. I am telling you, though, that it is not completely futile. Let me say that I am merely conditioning my brain for the greater tasks ahead of me, much like using a conditioner for the hair to make it softer, silkier to touch. I’m sure the company will appreciate more my output if it were softer and silkier to touch, not to mention, if it gave off a mild, pleasing fragrance.
 
I am at work. Minutes ago I was engaged in a conversation with a coworker about life after death or the absence thereof, Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being and existentialism (which I don’t fully understand, but discussed anyway as pretentiously as I could).
 
I am at work and a few hours away from the end of my shift. I have not accomplished much today. Later, when bright morning light bleeds across the city,  if there is no downpour, which is not unlikely to happen, I will step outside the office building and meet the cool air brought forth by the chilly weather of December. I will be aching for one thing. Among the early crowd, in harmony with the noise and pollution, at one with the scent of soap still fresh on the skin of fellow pedestrians, I will be aching for one thing. It is not yet here. I am terrified it will never come.

Doraemon November 23, 2008

Posted by oddmanin in Life and loving it.
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At times, I am pulled down by a crushing feeling of  weariness in a most unlikely place and time, for instance, while on a public transportation vehicle going home from work. Just as frequent, however, are the episodes of supreme power, certainty, invincibility and greatness. The morning I’m about to recount exemplifies more the first mood.

My hands were heavy. To get the key from my pocket was as difficult as to extricate a person from a burning building. It was easy to abandon the task, not to open the door. I’d like to see something new inside when I open the door, an apparition of some sort, perhaps, I’d like to see God Himself in the living room and claim me as His only begotten son. Finally, I did insert the key into the knob, turn it and push the door open.

I found my father enthroned in a chair at the table – a predictable sight everyday – engaged in his morning routine of reading Dividendazo. My father is a prolific gambler. He is inseparable from horse-racing and cockfighting as cancer cells from a terminal cancer patient who is hours away from dying. I could hear the television was turned on. The volume was cranked up.Konna koto ii na / Dekitara ii na / Anna yume konna yume ippai aru kedo / Minna minna minna / Kanaete kureru / Fushigina pokke de kanaete kureru / Sora wo jiyuu ni tobitai na / Hai! takekoputaa! There’s no mistaking it. The TV was tuned to Doraemon on Channel 7.

Was my father quick to bolt from in front of the TV at the sound of my opening the door, lest I see him watching Doraemon? Why would he be ashamed of it? I like Doraemon myself. How can you not fall in love with the characters in this manga-turned-into-cartoon-series with their follies, absurdities and occasional nude appearances?

All right. I know there’s no way my father would watch Doraemon willfully. He could be watching or listening to the morning program before it. The fact remains, though, that my father is incurably obsessed with gambling, and that I should have long ago realized that if I were ever to become rich, afford to stay for nights at the Burj Al Arab, eat any dish with gold leaves, have a wardrobe of Ermenegildo Zegna suits, or fly to the moon come the era of space tourism, I’d have no other road to take but that of a self-made man (whatever exactly this means.) At the rate I’m going, the ultimate luxury I can indulge in is to eat at McDonald’s everyday. Not luxurious at all. Sickening even.

Albeit all this, one cannot take out of me the fear that a robot cat sent through time travel from a distant future might jump out of my underwear drawer and befriend me without my having any choice. What would this robot cat be called? Would he be called “Taba,” like my favorite cat at home?

While bored at work a long time ago November 19, 2008

Posted by oddmanin in Uncategorized.
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While bored at work a long time ago, I wrote a very short poem, the shortest I’ve written. I let a few co-workers read it and I was delighted they were able to relate with the humor, because I intended it to be humorous. I threw it away, though, and I could not remember a single word. I read somewhere that the shortest published poem in a widely-circulated publication goes, “The Bronx? / No thonx.” If you’re interested to find out who the author is, go look for it yourself.

Pavarotti / Bocelli September 14, 2008

Posted by oddmanin in Uncategorized.
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If I were to see only one concert, it would be Pavarotti’s. Well, it’s a tough choice between him and Sinatra. But my choice doesn’t matter now. Both of them are dead. What used to be kings of their respective musical genres are now decomposed matter.

A substitute for Pavarotti is Bocelli, who up to now is scoffed at by critics but to me, notwithstanding the truth in the criticisms, ranks at par with the best the history of singing has produced. I may not be an expert on this subject, not once have I listened to or seen an entire operatic production, but I’m confident in my ears and their ability to appraise quality in sound and singing. Though Domingo and Carerras are regarded as Pavarotti’s counterparts, despite their hardly reaching Pavarotti’s high C, Bocelli sounds better in my iPod. I suppose I find it as such on account of Bocelli’s pop appeal and his overall pop career. His songs blend harmoniously with the Radiohead, Smashing Pumpkins, Beck and Coldplay in my playlist. If it is solely the reason, without being conscious of it at the start, of my patronizing Bocelli, it is then what I can consider a distorted opinion that I am happy to have made.

On fashion, hard drives and donkeys September 7, 2008

Posted by oddmanin in The mundane.
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I’ve the unshakeable, immitigable, building and creepingly obsessive craving for an external hard drive. What, with all the downloadable goodies the world wide web proffers, there isn’t just enough disk space in my computer. It’s one thing to crave, another to actually purchase it. I did a quick search on ebay.ph and learned a 160gb Western Digital portable external hard drive will diminish me by Php 3,700. I’ve got to say it isn’t an unreasonable asking price. The days on which the prices of external hard drives never went below Php 8,000 are still clear in my memory – yes, they were expensive, that to me the word ‘external’ had become synonymous with luxury, along with ‘flip,’ ‘iMac,’ ‘Rustan’s.’ At Php 3,700, many will find it a bargain. In addition, this particular brand/model comes in attractive, fashionably fruity colors. If in case, I decided, that shelling out that amount isn’t worth the purpose of the device, I have an option, which only a few months ago I have been told possible: an internal hard drive external case (no, it isn’t an oxymoron.) Yes, a case for an internal hard drive. These cases are cheap – can go as cheap as 500 bucks. The big BUT is, they’re not as small and fashionable as that which I originally crave for. And in our age, we ought to be aware, fashion is everything. To hell with practical necessity, to austere living. Fashion defines today’s life. One’s got to flaunt what he’s got. And I’m imagining with jiggly eagerness how I’d strut down a street brandishing this dagger of a shiny device before goggly eyes of non-owners/victims.

My wanting it was furthered by a few movie torrent files I downloaded but unable to load into the torrent client program due to limited hard disk space: Chinese Torture Chamber, The Killer Is Among Us, Nazi Love Camp, Horrors of Malformed Men, Sexual Emotions Of A Donkey.

Masturbation July 29, 2008

Posted by oddmanin in Love and other bullshit.
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A short, inconspicuous article in The Philippine Star’s Science and Technology section says that “some of the most common problems encountered by parents with their adolescent include sibling rivalry, academic underachievement, peer pressure, rejection, premarital sex, lust, masturbation…” Masturbation! Really, now. Has any adolescent actually had a discussion with his/her parent about masturbation? What could have been the things said between the adolescent and the parent? Given that the conversation between the parent and son/daughter was prompted by the former having caught the latter in the act of self-pleasure, what in heaven’s name would inspire the parent to even start this conversation? Has any parent ever got tormented by the thought that his/her son/daughter strokes his/her genitals in his/her room under the sheets or in the shower or in the living room when the rest of the household is elsewhere? Can it be a cause of genuine conflict between the parent and the adolescent? “My son,” says the mother upon seeing his son whacking off, “you disappoint me.” Or the father exclaiming at the sight of his daughter in bed taking out a glittery, seven-inch, cucumber-like object from under the comforter, “My sweet angel, that thing is dripping wet!”