Only 5 months after I made this announcement, an announcement which was met with a lot of anticipation, sorrow and even chagrin for some; it is with a lot of grief that I announce that I have recently broken up with the girlfriend.
And as if this is a portent of things to come, I am citing "irreconcilable differences" as the main reason for our tragic breakup. (This is not going to be much different from my first marriage which will end in a flurry of domestic violence, gambling debts, and homicide.)
The funny thing is that I KNOW I should be all sad and shit but I'm not and quite frankly, I'm okay. I'm actually thinking of all the wonderful fun things I can do a couple of months from now like getting really drunk and high one day on vitamins, toothpaste and hair product before proceeding to call the ex informing her that I knocked up some bimbo I met in a bar and telling her that hadn't we broken up, my life would've been so much better. She'd then proceed to console me by telling me that It's okay and I should instead focus on loving and providing for my new family then I'd go ahead and say "Fuck you" and tell her about how I hate her, how I badly want to piss on her corpse, set her parents' house on fire and how I put a magical curse on her and how all her children will have really big right ears and some sort of weird-ass vestigial tail.
So yeah, obviously, the entire gamut of emotions normally involved in breakups hasn't sunk in yet. But let me assure you that once it does, it's not going to be pretty. Think along the lines of government office, hostages, SWAT team, a demand for a basket of tempura, lots of screaming and me dying of cardiac arrest while raping an old accountant.
So yeah, things are pretty grim for me right now. The good news is, however, I'm all for expedience and I'm looking forward to fast tracking the entire mending a broken heart process. I'm actually going out on a date this Saturday with a really hot, smart, non-imaginary girl. Yes Nikki I'm talking about you.
Well that's all I have for you today. Why don't you guys try and find something else to entertain you today? Like maybe racism or gambling? I hate you.
Okay listen up. Being it's holy week and all, I will try to write something relevant for a change. This post will contain nothing but self-introspection where I probe the depths of and cast imputations on my sinful, secular life.
Since we all know that I'm a drug addict. No wait, I meant sex addict (one addiction at a time please), and because we all know that when addicts don't get their fix, nobody wins; let's take a look at the glaring lack of sexual activity in my life lately. I am in the middle of quite possibly the longest sexual drought in my life and it's literally killing me. Before I got back with my girlfriend and before she left to work abroad, I was doing fine, banging girls left and right (for 2,000 bucks a pop) then all of a sudden– nothing.
Besides the fact that I am a serial monogamist(and I'm not just throwing this in here because my girlfriend reads my blog. Hi baby! love you! muwahugtytz!), I think the main reason why my sex life is in such a miserable state is because I have no game whatsoever. And I've come to terms with the fact that I can do absolutely NOTHING about it.
For instance, it's common knowledge that women like smart artsy-fartsy guys who ask questions like "Do you think everyone's amenable to the machinations of the catholic church?" or "Do you think people should have sex with other people whom they do not feel emotionally attached to?" and not "Do you think Google will acquire Starbucks in the near future? Because I totally do" or "I usually don't go out on a limb to ask this, but I have some magic pot at home and I was wondering if you're interested to get out of here and smoke up with me. After that, maybe we could like have sex and you'd let me stick three fingers up your butt. It's going to be rough and I'm not going to wear a condom."– questions I have a predilection for.
Now, it's not like I don't get to be around girls that much either. It's just that girls are simply not interested in me. Girls are into guys who go to the gym and can bench press like 300 pounds (Not me, the closest thing I can do is 5 squat-thrusts) or men who are successful or at least have ambition(not me either. All I want to do is get drunk and my only ambition is to find the single greatest recreational drug in the world).
I honestly don't get it. I mean after all, I am a Rising Intenet Star and I'm hella sensitive. In fact, earlier, I was watching In pursuit of Happyness (aka, the most depressing movie ever next to Million Dollar Baby) and I got to the part where Will Smith and his son were forced to sleep inside a public restroom in the subway system; and man, let me tell you, I totally lost it. Next thing I knew, I was crying so lustily and so loudly that my dad had to wake up, comfort me and feed me assloads of ice cream to calm me down. Now the question is, why the fuck won't anyone fuck me?!
ANYWAY, I am expecting this to change VERY soon since me and my friends are going to the beach over the weekend. And really, if you put me and my friends near any body of water, alcohol and assloads of half-naked women, our trip easily becomes a serious competition on who can get the most venereal diseases in one day(I'm pretty sure I'll win this since I already have syphilis). The only roadblock I see in me ending this dry spell over the weekend is my friend Matthew who looks so much better than all of us and kinda looks like Tobey Maguire. So whenever I'm with him and we're talking to women, I'm immediately relegated to the "Fat wingman, who keeps on bragging about his blog and is a little creepy because he stares down your boobs every chance he gets" category; a category which, if I might add, I fit into perfectly.
So yeah, wish me luck. Whatever.
Also, check out my latest interview for FHM. I interviewed Anna Correos who's easily one of the nicest girls I've interviewed in a long time.
LazyCast April 2, 2007
In this episode, I talk about my adventures in the recently concluded Philippine Blog Awards, the I.ph blogger meet-up, how Bryanboy stole my phone and how I ended up spending the night sleeping on top of my friend Adam's dining table.
By the way, I'd like to congratulate Abe, Jayvee and Gail for the Blog Awards' success. Really guys, I enjoyed loading up on the free food, sitting in a corner looking like a hobo and avoiding the pity glances of the other people who attended.
Here's some link loving for the people I met at the awards:
Here are some pictures. More over at my Flickr gallery:
LazyCast April 2, 2007
If any of you even listened to last week's LazyCast, you'd know that I recently had a minor vehicular accident where, thanks to glorious drunk driving, I lost the passenger side mirror of my car, and clipped a parked car along Mother Ignacia which caused a nasty scratch on my car's front bumper.
And because in the future, I again intend to drive under the influence of alcohol and hopefully, some new kick-ass recreational drug while I am being chased by half of Metro Manila's police force up North Luzon Expressway because not only am I driving under the influence, I also kidnapped a rich Chinese girl whom I'm holding for ransom and have no plans of releasing until her parents who own a seaside restaurant, give in to my request of being provided a lifetime supply of Lo Mein and Shanghai rolls; I decided to give up my hangover-nursing day (Sunday) to go to Banawe and find a cheap replacement side mirror (Of course, by "replacement" I meant "stolen") and have the headlights of my car (which was damaged in the accident as well) repaired.
Now, I might as well get this out of the way– Banawe is absolutely terrible. It's a place where disreputable, shady deals take place in plain sight. My brother, Ryan "Fucking" Villar likes this about the place though saying that it is the perfect place to develop one's street smarts. Well you know what asshole? If "Street Smarts" means being in a constant state of alertness because there's a great chance some Bisaya guy would sneak up behind you, stab you in the neck, drain your blood then urinate on your limp, lifeless body before finally selling your blood to a barbecue vendor across the street, then no, I don't think I want to develop mine.
I'm pretty sure you've all seen one of those documentaries on The Animal Planet where there's this nestling who first ventures out of the nest, accidentally falls off and lands on a river where like a gazillion piranhas make short work of it? THAT's how it feels like when you first get off your car in Banawe.
In a matter of seconds, you are instantaneously descended upon by a dozen street vendors selling all sorts of stuff ranging from window tint to young Cambodian slave girls. What's worse is that the auto parts store I decided to have my car repaired were desperately trying to make a quick buck out of me by telling me that not only do I need a new side mirror but I need a new side mirror assembly which costs 800 bucks. Not only that, after taking a quick look at my headlight bulbs, they told me that I needed new sockets because the ones I had are burnt out.
In the end, because I am a complete idiot when it comes to car care, they sold me a new side mirror assembly, expensive headlight bulbs and their corresponding sockets, something called a "Photon Inhibitor Drive", car insurance, crispy pata and several grams of coke which they claim came straight from Colombia.
So yeah, I went to Banawe thinking that I'd only be spending lose change for minor repairs but ended up spending close to 4 thousand bucks and because I'm having a hard time peeing lately, I'm also thinking I contracted syphilis from the blow job I got from a sampaguita vendor I paid 80 bucks to suck my bird while I wait for my car. It was toothy and an absolute waste of money.
Now please, leave me alone while I get high on my stash of Xanor and put copious amounts of penicillin on my bird.
Over the past few months, owing largely to my FHM writing gigs, I am learning a lot about how to interact with women. What was previously an activity that went hand in hand with huge amounts of awkwardness and consternation is slowly developing into a pleasurable, sexually arousing one (which I think are what normal guys feel when engaging in said activity).
A couple of months ago, my "game" consists of me pretending to talk loudly to a "business associate" on my mobile phone about my upcoming raise and how I don't "really need it" since I'm already earning 6 figures a month within earshot of the girl I am trying to impress; before finally circling in and initiating a conversation with her which usually ends up in a mess like this:
Me: [bottle of beer in one hand, the other in my pocket] Um Hi.
Girl: [Already creeped-out] Hello.
Me: [15 seconds of awkward silence] You look like you're into Internet stuff.
Girl: [somewhat offended] Well, not really.
Me: Um what I meant was… [panicking because "Game plan" fell apart] You know what, here you go, take my phone please just don't hurt me! [sitting down on the floor with both hands over head]
Girl: What is wrong with–
Me: I have nothing to offer you but a promise that if you marry me, I will leave you millions of pesos' worth of utility bills and a dozen slow, Half-Korean children, all named "Kippean." [Starting to cry] please don't hurt me!
Obviously, this doesn't work. In fact, the only time this approach actually worked was with my girlfriend and only because I slipped Ativan in her drink and tied her up with Nylon. We were inseparable ever since.
Anyway, like I said, I've learned a lot about girls over the past few months, the most important being that when a girl says they want something the actually mean they want something AND something else. I mean, all the hot women I interviewed for FHM said they want a guy who has a sense of humor–now, using deductive reasoning, we can conclude that:
Women want a guy who has a sense of humor, I have a great sense of humor, therefore women want me. Greatly.
Now this would actually make sense if women didn't have this inherent flaw of wanting more than what they are willing to reveal or admit. So when a woman says that she's looking for somebody who has a sense of humor, she actually means she's looking for somebody with a sense of humor AND somebody who's at least presentable.
This, my dear reders, is the reason why yours truly, even as an avant-garde internet humorist, is not popular among women. Wait, I am. Just not in a way that would be sexually gratifying.
The sense of humor I have down pat; the "presentable" part, I'm struggling a bit with. For the life of me, I could not remember anybody complimenting me for the way I dress up. The best I've gotten was "You look like somebody going through a bitter divorce" and this is probably because I really don't spend money on clothes. My wardrobe consists of three T-shirts and two pairs of jeans I wear in heavy rotation. So when I meet up and hang out with friends I rarely see, I get a lot of "Wow! That's the same shirt you wore last [insert occasion here]" and it would've been great if they say it with genuine fascination but they usually say it with the same inflection they'd use if they were to say "Oh my God! You're fucking a kitten! It's dead!"
And because I realized that what I've written didn't make much sense and because I've been getting LOTS of negative feedback on the LazyCast, I will clear things up on ANOTHER LazyCast later just to annoy the shit out of you pissant LazyCast naysayers.
Have a great weekend. Assholes.
Mike "Fucking" Villar
"a Manila-based blogger made famous by his Atrocities of Friendster series, a regular feature he publishes on his blog where he mercilessly criticizes and mocks pictures of ugly people he stumbles upon on popular social networking site, Friendster. Although a lot of people are offended by what he writes, long-time readers of his blog regard him as a brilliant satire writer."
-Taken from my WikiBios page
