Typewriters - iTs bEtTer tH4N thIs

I just heard that recently, the last company that manufactured typewriters just closed. It was the Godrej and Boyce - a factory based in Mumbai, India. I can just imagine the employees standing before metal gates, watching it shut down forever - ala flashback scenes of  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (I meant the movie. Don't get all hipster on me). A spokesperson, who happened to be one of the employees watching the metal gates shut down forever said in a stereotypical Indian accent "The gates will reopen when the crow turns white, when snow comes to Mumbai, when sand comes to Siberia, when Snooki wins a Pulitzer prize, when Snooki successfully spells Pulitzer, when the epic meal time guy joins PETA, you know I can go on and on with the....wait please let me go on. I don't have a job."

Yesterday, I saw the old family typewriter on the table. In a spin, I was suddenly  an Ophidiophobic professor with a whip and a hat and started brushing the artifact for its archeological significance. That's when I realized a question - when was the last time I used the typewriter?



2001 - a time when kids were embarrassingly playful with WordArt and boastful of  the primitive Wikipedia of that time - Encarta, I was using the typewriter to type such ground breaking essays as "What I did last summer" and "What do I want to be when I grow up". I didn't mind if my homework looked like it was Jack Nicholson's draft on The Shining, whilst my classmates' homework looked like unicorn puke.

It just seemed like yesterday. But that was like 10 years ago. I was 9.

Sometimes, I like using the Courier font. It gives the feeling of nostalgia, when all seemed to be in sepia tone. Many people don't like it. Especially people my age who haven't even had the opportunity to use an actual typewriter. It's weird that the same people aLsO tYpE lIkE diS iN dEr fAcEbUk sTatus.

On a slightly unrelated yet very related note, I think people who easily forget and even shun old technology (or history for that matter) are people who are victims of the darker side of capitalism. They are also the same people who insert the word "like" in between every two words, and are also the same people who think remakes are the original ones. I hate them. But they are the powerful majority that makes up our world. Does that make me a hipster? Slightly.

I like the sound of of a typewriter. It makes me feel like I'm in a World War movie. (Not that the feeling of being in a World War is something to like). I compared it to the sound of my computer keyboard. It makes me feel like in a crappy 90s spy movie where a hacker miraculously breaks into something just by typing extra fast. Makes me remember the last time I used a floppy disk. Believe it or not, it was in 2008.

So Long, Long Hair, So Long!

For the past few days I've been having fever. And the worst part is it was on the night of my birthday that the fever started. It kept on for a couple of days, the fever swelling through my neck. Then one day my mom told me something that would change my life forever (or for the rest of the semester).

"You need to have your hair cut."

It seemed like time and space contradicted each other and I was drawn into the resulting black hole from the collapse of the laws of physics. It seemed like all religious foundations in which nations all over the world had been found had come into total discrepancy. It seemed like the mores and norms, the taboos and folkways of the modern mainstream societies had vanished, causing our world to go back to barbarism and pillaging. In other words:

I didn't want to have the haircut.

"What does it have to do with my fever?" I questioned

"Well, you look more sick with that type of hairdo. And also it looks...itchy."

"It's ugly?"

"Yeah. It's ugly."

Mom was not the first person to hate my do. Mom would be a part of the army of millions dedicated to convincing Asher to have his hair shortened. Mentioning a few members of the said army would be siblings, classmates, professors, friends, and church mates. They had formed a fellowship that aims for the reduction of the follicular production on my head.

Their day of victory has finally come.

I had my haircut last Saturday evening. And I did not have any regrets.

There was a reason I sported a long do. I wanted to at least separate myself from the bland oatmeal that was my school, where everyone needed to conform with everything, from the type of music to the fashion statement to the general opinion on the significance of Snooki's chest cramps to environmentalism. I wanted to be a little bit different. I wanted to be dissimilar.

I guess that college phase really had to end some time.

I now have short hair. Well, actually it's not very short, but I think I'll keep this for the remainder of my college days. I will sure miss the hair that, as Willow Smith puts it, may be whipped back and forth.


*photo was google searched

Over-reviewing sucks!

I hate this day. I spent the whole night last night reviewing for a quiz that involves cranial and spinal nerves. Then, the day for the quiz came, I ate my breakfast and lunch, drank milk, and ate a banana, to energize myself with starch. Finally, the hour of judgement came, and lo, I was judged most tremendously.


Questions. No, interrogations chewed me up the very moment I glanced upon the test paper, and all that was on my mind was "I knew I read this, I friggin' read this somewhere in the book. I even saw a GIF animation of it on the internet, but I cannot remember the name of these hanging things below the pointy thing." After the quiz, I reminisced on the valuable evening I spent  shoving notes down my nasal cavity. I cursed the memory, together with the banana and its freaking starch.

 Maybe I over-reviewed, which is something I usually do whenever the Hale-Bopp comet passes by our planet. I experienced perhaps what laymen call the "mental block". Whatever happened gave disappointment that brought about this thought: What if instead of reviewing the functions of the oculomotor nerve last night, I reviewed more important, significant things, like:


1. Zombie Apocalypse Cosmetology:The science of applying make-up on yourself so that you can pretend to be a zombie and the undead won't lay a finger on you.
2. Internet Marketing Strategies: The proper way of spamming Facebook walls and forums.
3. Popular Adolescent Literary Creations: Writing the next "Twilight".


Now these topics might have given me much more benefit than knowing about preganglionic neurons. But no, I gave up on these significant subjects to give time to remember what the hanging things below the pointy thing were called. And the sad thing was, I remembered it seconds after I passed my paper. Cauda Equina! I knew it sounded something like Megan Fox...or not. 

Pretentious Douchebags!!!

We all know one. We all hate one.

Pretentious douchebags - the worst of all the douchebags (before this would be the Starbucks douchebags). Philosophers the world over contemplates on their existence. Statisticians worry on their increasing population. The military plans on their eradication, and bloggers...well.. bloggers rant on why one is sitting right next to them (good job breaking the rhyme).

How do we exactly detect and categorize one to be included in this group. While some might say the definition of a "pretentious douchebag" is subjective, I think most will agree with what I will list below. (For the sake of my fragile, china porcelain fingers, I shall refer to Pretentious Douchebags as "PD").

PD # 1 - Gadget PDs
That's right. The scum of the technological world. Their script: "I bought 3 IPads from the mall and threw it out of the window, for no reason. While I upload some new pics of me and my cat on my 84 websites and social networking profiles, I'll just play some sex-themed music on my monster D-Bag 2000 Stereo Surround Sound Stereo while I send a tweet to my 7 followers" 


The girlfriend-less scum portrays all their majestic douchebaggery to compensate for the fact that they can never talk to a woman in a bar, and that they never go to bars.


PD# 2 - The Big Words PDs
They sound like Noah Webster being forced to eat page after page of his newly edited dictionary. Their script: "My neurotransmitters are situated as echelons while I divulge to my audience what my cognitive processes mainly focuses on at the moment, the quintessence of my mind: my speech. Also, what I just said did not make sense and I just wanted to impress a dozen of other PDs."


Seriously, what's up with the heavy words? No one thinks your cool, no one thinks you will ever be cool. Whatever you do in life, you will never, ever be cool. That is why you have to stop using those words.


PD# 3 - The Newly-Elected PDs
Somehow, these PDs got elected or appointed in some sort of office. That is why their PD meter grows exponentially high. Their script: "As the newly elected undersecretary of the undersecretary of the Society for the Appreciation of the Yellowness of Mustard, I would like to say, I deserve this so much, and you did the right thing of electing me. Now, I shall officially start ignoring you because I am now formally and on legal documents considered "better than you".


Believe me. I know a lot of these PDs. Those people who suddenly become your BFFs because they see you as one big walking ballot for various beauty contests or elections and ignore you when they win.


Okay, I'm gonna end it here.

So, aside from what I have listed here, what other PDs can you think of? Place it on the comment section below.


(got the photo from photobucket)

What smoking actually looks like

(Again, I do not intend to offend smokers. I got friends who are smokers. This is a sarcastic, satirical criticism on the habit, not on the smoker. Yeah, but still...)

I have recently discovered some facts that may possibly not surprise a lot of you people (so much for an opening). It's about smoking.  It is the deadliest habit in the world. Apparently it accounts for 5 million deaths a year, according to WHO. This also makes the vice the second deadliest thing ever seen in our planet, coming close to nuclear wedgie. These facts are indeed frightening. That is why we tend to ask why a lot of people still do it.

I know why. It is because it is almost a religion, focusing on its most valued verse: Smoking is Kewl!

You see, smoking has been repeatedly advertised as the ultimate cool thing.

Let me show you a simple scenario:
Jack smokes in the alley, a beautiful woman passes by. This is what Jack thinks the woman thinks when she sees him: "Ohhhh, how noble and erect this young man is? That cigarette he wields is as the swords of a million shining knights. And the smell, oh the smell. If Utopia had air conditioning, this would be the exact ecstatic scent. Blow unto my face, young lad"


But then again, all of this is delusion. This is what smoking actually looks like. This is what the beautiful woman actually thinks: Oh crap, another one who thinks smoking is cool. Not only is it not cool, it's also very 1980s. I mean, really? And the smell, don't mention the smell. Its like halitosis and Diarrhea made out and had babies.


Guys, its not too late to quit. I have found a wikihow article on how to quit smoking that might help a lot.


Its not too late to see that it's not cool either. See, Darth Vader does not smoke. Mr. T does not smoke. I do not smoke. Non-smoking is the new heavy metal. And I have also heard somewhere that smoking may be related to erectile dysfunction. If limp is the new cool then I say go do whatever you want.

If you still believe smoking is "cool", let this be an eye opener:

Damn right, Robert Pattinson smokes.

Attention Millions of People: Ashton Kutcher's Taking a Crap

You know Twitter, right? The site where people update other people on what they are up to. Apparently, a lot of people use it, with 190 million users, and it is currently ranked by Alexa as the 11th most popular website.

 Makes me wonder. Why is Twitter popular? Probably because of very profound tweets, like this:

jackSPANKME: @p0rndude-R-us0901 Dude, last night was aweSOME!!  watching #porn and startrek in mom's basement, best nayt EVAR!!!

Now that is an eye-opener. People like to show other people that they are single. But it still does not explain a lot about Twitter's popularity.

jackSPANKME: haha, I got a stolen shot of @porndude-R-us0901 snorting cocaine on top of a hooker http://bit.ly/pizza_porndude_is_kewl

Okay, so people apparently like to show cherished pictures of their daily activities. It seems like they want to share and preserve valuable memories for the generations to come by tweeting pictures. Wait, I'm still not convinced. Maybe its the celebrities on Twitter.

therealjackSPANKME: as an actor/director/pantyhose recycling advocate, i would like to say thanks to all my 9 followers. I am here at the set of my latest movie, ATTACK OF THE GIANT #BIEBER

Sure, celebrities on Twitter. Still not enough. How about celebrities who seem like normal human beings on their tweets.

therealjackSPANKME: just ate a whole can of wasabi and downed it with lemon juice. Now on the toilet having a major #crap! 

That answers it! People like to think that celebrities are normal people just like them. They also eat whole cans of wasabi, and more importantly, they also crap! People like to think there is not much difference between him and celebrities so that they can still have the hope of being celebrities themselves.

So I now have a conclusion: Twitter is popular because it makes celebrities appear like normal people, so they can identify themselves with average Joes worldwide. It gives the impression to normal people that they can also be celebrities, just like them (concealing the fact that celebrities are really aliens who had come to hypnotize the people before the extraterrestrial invasion arrives). 

What do you think? Why is Twitter popular? Aside from my theory above, what else do you think made Twitter popular?

To get updates on how I despise Twitter, follow me on Twitter: Go to the side bar and look for the Twitter section.

Hey, always check the sky for the mother ship okay. Just in case.


(dude, the ashton kutcher on the title is only in reference on the fact that he has the most number of followers. he did not actually tweet about crap. come on man.)

A loser's guide to dating women

Dating has always been a problem for losers, century after century after century. Not that they always venture on the art of dating, but when they do, they always fail hard on the floor. This may in time lead to a series of devastating effect. The propagation of losers will be halted if this problem continues. Who will be the losers of the future, huh? Who would our grandchildren tease in gym class. Also, the video game industry will subside drastically, together with the knitted vest, comic book and root beer industry. That is why, me, a very concerned citizen has created the ultimate dating guide for losers. (I believe the word "loser" is politically incorrect in some tribes, but I think of the word as someone who just hasn't won yet).


Let us follow Jack McSurname in his quest to find ultimate love, and maybe with this guide you'll get one too.


Dating Guide 1: Jack McSurname is a loser, and the closest thing to love that he knows is the stray frogs he hunts at the local pond, which he kisses one by one every midnight. Now, we shall help him find love. And where is the coolest place to find love for a loser like Jack? That is right, avid reader, dating sites. My first tip for Jack and to all guys out there is to surf different adult dating sites. Still, that wouldn't be enough. Jack should create a convincing profile:

NAME: Jack hOt4ss McSurname (the nickname is a total hit)
AGE: 18 (we had to make him 25 years younger, didn't we).
SEX: Whatever you want me to be, babe (we have to make him sound witty and sexy at the same time. Women, and apparently men like those kinds of things).
PROFESSION: Lion Tamer (of course we know Jack is in fact working in a pantyhose recycling facility, but that isn't "dating site cool." Now lion tamer, that is definitely cool!
HOBBIES AND ACTIVITIES: Everything that makes me sweat and look like a jock (this is to summarize all the things he would NEVER ever do. He's allergic to his own sweat).


Now to polish the profile further, we have to put a profile picture. Yeah, but we cannot possibly place his real face there, please. That is why I have another solution, male anime pictures. Placing secretive anime pictures make Jack sexy and mysterious.


Now, search for hot and eligible girls from the said dating site. Don't fuss if all of their profile pictures are either side view, black and white, taken in front of a bathroom mirror, or the face practically not wholly visible. They do it to create suspense and mystery, just as what you are doing with the anime pic. If you are done picking, PM them and let the first date begin!



Dating Guide 2: Now here comes the date, I'm pretty sure Jack is so damn excited and nervous of this upcoming event. Now here is the ultimate tip that I might give to Jack and to all readers today; Just be yourself. Of course, I know it is totally different from your dating site profile. But, how are you going to fake 3-time Olympic gold medalist in real life? 


Now, before going to the big day, Jack must try being in the latest fashion. That only means one thing; Pants on the ground! Jack can wear any jeans he has, use strings as belt, put inside his pocket a variety of chains and stuff, wear it up to his knees, and there you go. Pants on the ground. If you like to uphold to your anime pic then go cosplay style. Don't mind your flabby fat popping out of your sailor moon costume. At least you are kewl!

Dating Guide 3: It is time to meet her, the woman who might change the future of Jack's life. Now Jack, be cool. The first thing to do is to greet her with your remarkable fluency in Klingon. 


 yIn tIq 'ej chep


Check for signs. If she is raising an eyebrow, do not worry. It is a sign that she is amazed by your fluency. Now take her to one of your favorite restaurants, TGIF (Thank Google I'm a Freak). Get the specialty, "Spock's Foot in Voldemort sauce". I am sure she will enjoy it so much that she will spit and vomit all of it, believing her tongue is not worthy of such great food.


If you want to converse, just start with the usual things you talk about. Your date's vomit can be one,


 "You should take the Facebook quiz, What does your vomit color tell about your dog's personality' "


Give the martian waiter a large tip to impress your date. An autographed picture of yourself  in Cosplay could be one.


Now to leave your date with a gift, give her something she will treasure her entire life. How about one of your collectibles, like Adolf Hitler's stool sample. Believe me, she'll love it so much she'll forget to bring it home.


Remember these things: If she leaves you in the middle of the date, that just means she has been awestruck by your incredible aura. If she slaps you, that means she can't get her hands off of you. Now you'll be able to say to yourself, who is the loser now huh? Look at you, Jack McSurname, what a stud!!


As always, Live long and prosper! And don't call her again, like forever. She doesn't have a number, right?



*above is a Google image

Ten signs your mom is a heavy metal rock star by night

Rock. The very word brings a whole series of emotions. It definitely brings joy to our very cool and busy geologists, while it also brings paranoia puree to conservative parents. To us young people, its the very definition of music.

Your mom had probably at least once scolded you for listening to "trash." Is this a genuine warning against rock and its close cousins sex and drugs or is it a strategy to sway you from the truth that might shock your ass off and change the future breakfasts you'll have.

Your mom is a heavy metal rock star. Wait, wait, do not update your Facebook status of how cool you are just yet. You must confirm the suspicion with these signs. Is cheese not the only thing your mom can shred?

1. She hordes eyeliners because "it is cheaper."

2. She uses screamo to wake you up for school every morning.

3. Your Aunt Phyllis is indeed her lead guitarist.

4. You constantly see her putting mothballs in her closet. That is to disperse the marijuana smell her clothes get from her underground concerts.

5. She kinda looks like a member of Edward Cullen's family.

6. She tucks you in bed too early, so she can rock!

7. Her apron is autographed by Ozzy Osbourne.

8. She sings sweet lullabies to you, courtesy of songs from Black Sabbath and Dio.

9. She signs her checkbook with her blood.

10. She fixes "funny" pancakes.

Rock on!

Justin Bieber is the Antichrist

You must be very familiar with a phenomenon in pop culture where people, especially conspiracy theorists brand other people as the Antichrist, the resurrection of Hitler, the fifth Teletubby, etc. Titles used are commonly and practically anything that may shock us Internet geeks. Victims may be celebrities who are quickly climbing the ladder of fame, newly elected Popes, too-damn-rich TV hosts, and world leaders. I was not surprised Obama was labeled as the Antichrist, and I am surprised Justin Bieber still hasn't been labelled as someone threatening or peculiar (if he is the fifth teletubby, Tinky Winky will be threatened). 

If Justin Bieber is to be branded by the conspiracy theorists as the Antichrist, then a series of conspiracy theories follows. He would blacklist every anti-Justin Bieber fan page on Facebook. His song "Baby" would probably and apparently contain subliminal message to hypnotize today's youth. Oh no! 

That would be pretty weird, yet pretty convincing. Just look how manly Justin Bieber is. Chuck Norris would be embarrassed before this man. His iron fist terrifies many as he sings the intro for the new and sucky version of "We are the World." 

Then again, Justin Bieber does not know where Germany is, so I doubt the premise once more.

Why do they brand famous people as such. I know a Psychology term used for the paranoia in this context, but I cannot find it in my dusty search engine of a brain. This suggests I should review my major a little. There are a lot of questions bothering my mind. Why is Justin Bieber famous? Does Oprah operate her own religion with Dr. Phil as the head?

And the question that bothers me most: Who would be the fifth member of the Teletubbies?

Practical ways to deal with an annoying classmate

Having problems with a classmate? Worry no more! This blogger, who happens to be one of the leading experts on those kinds of crap, has come up with a few practical ways to deal with an annoying classmate.


Now, it will all depend on how the classmate annoys you. (From now on, we shall call the annoying classmate "Jacques")


Annoying stuff 1: The math teacher asks for the value of x. Your classmate Jacques raises his hand and begins to detail the philosophical background of mathematics and the genealogy of Isaac Newton's chihuahua.

How to deal with crap: Stand up and shout - "Shut up loser, you obviously don't know the answer!" Believe me, your teacher will thank you for it.

Annoying stuff 2: It's a Literature exam, Jacques sits beside you and extends his neck like a freaking giraffe over your paper.

How to deal with crap: Always be prepared for cheating classmates. Get an old fashion magazine and tear a page. Use it as a fake exam paper, so that whenever he leans towards your paper, he sees Katherine Heigl. I assume he is dumb enough to believe that Perez Hilton is the most famous character of Ernest Hemingway. After all, he cheats.

Annoying Stuff 3: You try to impress girls in school with your collection of dead cockroaches, but your classmate Jacques tries to steal the spotlight by bringing his collection of famous people's boogers.

How to deal with crap: Try to prove the authenticity of your collection by letting the girls touch and smell the dead cockroaches. Worry not if Jacques tries to do the same, no one would want to touch and smell people's boogers. I mean, Eeew!

Practical solutions to socio-educational annoyances. Good day. I'm off to class.

She bit me in the ass: A guide to zombie apocalypse survival

Do you believe in the possibility of a zombie apocalypse? I sure do.

Most of you normal people may not have thought of the possibility of a zombie apocalypse. For me, there was never a week I did not sit on a chair and think "Whoa, a zombie attack would be pretty inconvenient" (I really have a hectic schedule). At first, when the walking zombies (I'm looking at you Mia Jovovich) were still dominating the zombie movie industry, I was like "What's up with you, man? You can dance the 'locomotion' in their midst and they still wouldn't get you." Then they created the...wait for it... running zombie!


Would you survive a zombie apocalypse? What should we really do in case of a zombie attack.

I have compiled from all over my brain, (its a pretty wide search engine) things to do in a zombie apocalypse. First, when the crazies on the street start to hang those cardboards of doom over their necks, believe them and give them money for crack. Next, if the news starts to show zombie waves in varying regions in your country, pay attention and do not make love, talk to the telephone or party while the news is running. That is if you don't want to wake up the next morning with dentures sunk on your neck, and a hangover.


The next one is to prepare yourself for the invasion. In classic zombie movies, the whole neighborhood always turns into zombies except you. Being lucky enough to be the protagonist, what should you do? There are two choices: The first one is locking yourself in. Close all windows and doors and reinforce them, for extra protection. The flaw in this plan is that 84% of people who had tried locking themselves in their houses from zombies forget the backdoor.


The second plan is to get your car out of the garage and sweep the neighborhood streets. The flaw in this plan is that you tend to lose diesel, and zombies from gas stations are the most vicious zombies, according to the "What type of capitalist zombie are you" quiz from Facebook. If you ask me, a survivor of two zombie attacks, I would go for the second choice.

And speaking of Facebook, you should always update your status, so do not forget to bring your laptops and secure your mobiles.

        Jack McSurname oMg I jUst cUt oFf a zOmbiE aRm!...! iT's sTilL wRigGliNg iN dA tRunK...

That way you will be able to notify your Facebook friends. That is if they haven't turned into zombies yet. And also, expect that 88 percent of your tweeter followers are now infected, so no one will read your latest tweet anymore:

        jackSpANKME @paris_heeltoe1355 you just bit a chunk off my ass. but I'm okay...thought you should know! damn #zombies!!!


After running away from your neighborhood, find uninfected people. There is power in numbers. You can all find shelter, where you can build a reinforcement and wait for the military to rescue you. Be sure to judge a suitable shelter based on its survival benefits, not because it has an indoor swimming pool, or else you'll be swimming in blood, and probably a zombie lifeguard's blood at that. However, do not be overdependent to your buddies, even if they are man enough to face the horde. I don't care if your new found boyfriend is as manly and brave as Justin Bieber, you can all still get in deep trouble if you do not retain a sense of independence. Having clumsy buddies by your side is actually an advantage. When they trip and become food for the zombies, they buy you time to escape. Remember, there is wisdom in cowardice. Also, be wary of the people you meet. Zombies sometimes pose like the uninfected to attract people, and morons are tastier to them, so be on alert. Resist them, even if one looks like Megan Fox without the half of her face. Remember this: They all look like half-faced Megan Foxes.


Now, good luck finding rescue. If you'll excuse me, I have to pee.

For lunch, I think I'll eat my boss

Lunch: It is a universal need. It involves all living and non-living things on earth. All the important matters that have occurred throughout history had been influenced by this single, mouthwatering, noontime routine. Major and minor events that had happened, and continuously happens in our brief timeline had been dictated by this delicious (counting fingers) 5 letter word. Lunch - the powerful entity that is the center of mankind continues to speak to great men and women.: from the men of early civilization (Neanderthal Man: "Ugah, ugah, ugah, ugah, ugah, hey Raspberry Souffle") to the men of the modern era (Gen. Douglas MacArthur: "I shall return, for that piece of chicken, Doris.")


Lunch is probably one of man's greatest gifts to mankind. Who in history would have the strength and perseverance to keep up with their harsh bosses and professors ("harsh" is sugar coating it) without lunch to look forward to. You will agree with me that mankind would cease to exist without that small gap between sucking at your job AM and sucking at your job PM. Lunch - it is the one factor that still keeps us going to work and school. (You know, aside from the salary and stuff)

I speak so highly of lunch, even though I only have thirty measly minutes of it everyday. It is sandwiched between a hectic schedule of daydreaming in Sociology Class and drowsing at Psychology Class. To make matters worse, I often have to eat lunch in front of a computer. I remembered last semester when I actually had the time to do normal lunch routine like talking to your buddies, badmouthing your professors, checking that hot chick across the table and EATING. Yes, EATING in capital letters. The actual performance of getting the edible material from its container, putting it inside a facial opening called mouth, and masticating it to digestible form. Now that's lunch, and unlike homework, it shouldn't be forgotten.


Who doesn't love lunch? Though I only have thirty minutes of it, I savor every grain of rice I eat and every drop of Coke I drink. How about you? How is your lunch? How do you spend that one free hour before you're thrown back to the lion's den?


Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to lunch.

Ten signs you'll fail the exams

Next week, I will undergo a process millions of students abhor, abominate, despise, detest, disapprove, disdain, disfavor, loathe, look down on, scorn, shudder at, shun et cetera, et cetera. (Whooo, copying thesaurus was harder than I thought.)

It will be my midterms exams next week. One whole week dedicated to a thousand year old ritual observed by millions of educational institutions in the word. And so, foreseeing the approach of the deadly tentacles of the exams speeding before me, with only a few days left to prepare; days that will decide my midterm exam fate with one small move, I decided to do one thing that will definitely define my days to come. I blogged. ( Yes Asher. You almost had it.)

I am no stranger to failing exams. Believe me. In the fourteen years I've been sitting my ass in school, I have come to know and predict the signs that an impending doom is upon your exam results. The impending doom (wow, I love typing "impending doom") has been proven to happen every time these ten things below occurred the night before exams. If you experienced or did these things the night before the big day, you might be on your way to a D minus or a 70. You were warned.

Ten signs you'll fail the exams

1. You blogged about the exams (good thing I steered clear of that.)

2. "Out of nowhere", a case of beer appeared on your table beside your notes.

3. Someone bet you ten dollars to pee on your notes.

4. Your dog ate your notes, then turned into a zombie-eating alligator.

5. Someone bet you ten bucks to pee on your professor's notes.


6. Your name is Peter and this was your quiz paper. (see below)

7. You just became Barney Stinson's new wingman.


8. You created a facebook page entitled, "stop exams = save trees" (which garnered over a million fans.)


9. You didn't review (Yes, scientists had already proven that)


10. Someone bet you ten bucks to pee on your professor. 


Be on guard, if the signs occur, be alert and proceed to the nearest bar. Your beer is all you got for now.


Anyways, you might not see me much next week. I have to pretend to be studying. While I'm gone, please join my Facebook page (on the right, or click here) and also follow me on twitter (on the right too. or click again here.)

When I said she's smokin', I didn't mean she's hot

(Note:  I am not judging smokers in any way. It's your right to, as most non-smokers put it, "kill yourself." Smoke away.)



A professor told us once that when you, a non-smoker, happens to be lost (unfortunately) in a smoking area, it would be better to smoke a cigarette than inhale all the second-hand smoke your amigos are blowing.


That's a great advice.


By doing so, not only do you inhale the second-hand smoke, you also suck the "primary smoke". Efficient!


I'm not a smoker. I know many who are. During high school, it was the cool stick, the macho maker. You are not cool if you don't smoke, they say. (Of course I never trusted this "cool" tip since the same people also told me that it was cool to listen to Soulja Boy.)

I really don't understand the exact system of our smoker friends. First, they buy a pack (which comes in rainbow colors) of white sticks filled with leaves, called "cigarettes." (I assume the -ettes suggest the minimized size/quantity of the commodity.) Next, they put the orange filtered end they call the cigarette filter or "butt" (or ass, which may also refer to smokers who smoke in hospitals and non-smoking areas) in their mouth. Then they will light the other end, with the use of a (most of the time) borrowed lighter. Lastly, they will absorb through their mouth the produced smoke from the lit leaves and exhale it back to the air (repetitive until there is none left or your mom catches you.)


About 5.5 trillion cigarettes are produced every year, smoked by 1.1 billion (or one out of six) people in the world. Cigarette manufacturers spend about 15.12 billion dollars in advertisements. Marlboro Man, probably the most popular and effective smoking campaign was portrayed by many cowboy costumed men including Wayne McLaren, David Mclean and Dick Hammer. The three of them died of lung cancer.


Okay, since some smokers might bash me in the comments. I don't hate the smokers, just the smoke.

You might also think of quitting, right?

All The Single...Damn It!

"Oh well a you dum dum, a wina finally found you, a hathaway suit hashish a hot that I met it..."


Wait, before you refer me to rehab, that is supposed to be Jason Mraz's song, 'I'm Yours' which has been bugging my mind on the way to school. I obviously don't know the lyrics, and I'm not a fan of the song (what?!? would probably be the reaction of the many) , but when I heard it on the radio this morning, a certain phenomenon occurred.

We've all had it. It afflicts millions, no billions of people everyday, and many are not aware. Unfortunately, there is no cure for....LSS (Average listener: NOOOOOOOO!!!, Record Producer: *evil laugh*)


Last Song Syndrome (or LSS, for the sake of my fingers) is simply repeating and repeating the last song you heard until your pissed (you were expecting something more psychologically profound, weren't you. Okay, if you want that read more.)


LSS could also be called earworm or musical imagery, which is the phenomenon of hearing and repeating a line of a song. Theodore Reik (1888-1969) made the first study on the subject, calling the phenomenon, haunting memory. (Probably he'd been LSS-ing Beethoven's Ode to Joy.)

So what have you been humming lately. Have you sang 'I Gotta Feeling' whilst cleaning the dishes, or sang 'Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take yah' (Kokomo) with your lowest voice while in a bus. Have you passed LSS to someone by singing 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight'


"Asher, why do you have an image of barbie here?" You've just made the wrongest question of your day. It's because "I'm a barbie girl, in a barbie wooooorld. Life in plastic, it's so fantastic."

To leave you with the ultimate torture, here is Beyonce Knowles with, Single Ladies!
(In case you are wondering, the ear above is not mine)