umaga

my system clock tells me its 8:30am. andito na ako, sitting at my workstation, drying my hair in front of a 12cm chassis fan. spent last night shooting pool and singing lara fabian's "broken vow" at the local hulugan-mo-ng-limang-piso videoke place. went to sleep a little past 1am. i woke up at six feeling like i just woke up from 5-hour sleep; not rested at all. got up, made me coffee, lit up a smoke, and cut my fingernails. sat in my doorsill while sipping at my now-lukewarm coffee and pulling drags out of my ciggie. i was using the screen door as an improvised ashtray...see the ciggie burns? i decided it was time to take a bath and haul my ass to work. i was out of pantene anti-hair loss shampoo. it was a good thing i had my aloe-vera enriched backup shampoo bottle.

took the lrt2 to work. ignored the dirty looks i got from the security guards...fuck you, man, this ciggie ain't lit. yet. lit up first step off the station. walked a couple of steps to the office. which brings us full circle to: my system clock tells me its 8:36am.

what does this have to do with the blue martian cookies? absofuckinglutely nothing.

post something, assholes.

when the fuck are we going to jam again? when are we going to learn new songs? when is that new guitarist coming in?

post something!

good fucking morning. i'm making another cup of coffee.