[24] Let me start it: FUHK YAO!

[24]


[this rotten pic is strictly dedicated to Ada]


Let me start it: FUHK YAO!



November 19.
WBC matches.
Sino ang Tatapos?
Pacquaio versus Morales.
Philippines and Mehiko.
Boring day.
No one's texting me!
Are they all watching 'it'?
God, I must hibernate.
No, I'll watch.
Is 'he' worth watching?
O great, it's a late broadcast.
Stupid ABS-CBN.
Morons.
Viloria loses.
Awwww.
Who's next?
Unfamiliar.
Omar Nino and what?
Ugh, never mind.
Finally...
Sarah Geronimo??!
Pure shame.
Uncharismatic.
Rey Mysterio!!
He's a Mexican pala.
My phone beeps.
Blockmate Mica says, "Pacquiao won, 3rd round!"
Spoiler, I thought.
I write a message.
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Seen-In-TV-Commercials won!"
Several receivers reply, YEY!
Schoolmate Ephy replies, SPOILER!
I laugh.
Ang laughed.
Then I glued myself on the TV again.
Oh, Morales is a duck.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Seen-In-TV-Commercials's hot air conributes to the greenhouse effect!
If this was a Mr. Pogi finals, I doubt if he will ever catch up in the elimination.
Gring, gring, gring!!!
This is a damn sport.
A street sport.
Fundamentally learned along the street e.g when you meet filthy frat boys.
I noticed that the VIP sectioned spectators were dressed formally, ready for their funeral rites, probably businessmen.
Shit!
Morales outbalances.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Seen-In-TV-Commercials wins!
He bares his gums.
Everybody, almost--I mean, rejoices.
Ada is about to self-destruct, I knew it.


November 20.
24 ORAS.
He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Seen-In-TV-Commercials reigns the primetime program.
Lala Roque must be locked up in a wireless elevator in her entire life, I foretold.
His mother is a female dog.