Who's Watching All The Sports?

Alternatively titled: Gayest. Weekend. Ever.

The trouble with being friends with a self-proclaimed fag hag is that at some point you're going to have to meet her uh, friends. Okay, it's not as bad as I make it sound. I guess I'm not just used to it, but it was either that or stay home on during the long weekend with my parents. I mean, this was probably the only time in my life where I'm the only one at a table of eight who was into girls. There are some interesting things to note, though:

Fag hags have friends who have friends who have fag hags.

Gay people have a keen aesthetic, and consequently have expensive taste, so stay away if it's a non-payday weekend.

There is NO chance for the evening of seeing something like Stealth or Doom. (A good thing.)

The quintessential symbol for straightness is a backward baseball cap, which probably saved my life.

So I got through the weekend with my sexual preference intact. I am wondering though, what the heck is the percentage of straight people left in this city? I mean, who's watching all the sports?

Weekend Update

My body hurts. As in, everything. My trainer wants to kill me.

Apparently, I am 22% body fat and 78% full of shit. Seriously, I hear this 22% is not bad. And to celebrate, I had chocolate fondue at the Swiss Inn and Five Cheese Pizza (4-Cheese plus parmesan) at Cena last night, and then Estrelle's Caramel Cake and Selecta ice cream today. I'm probably up to 30% by now.

I've finally gotten around to going to the gym at ABS-CBN. It's actually quite cozy, at least on a quiet Saturday morning. And for some reason, the TV there is tuned to Eat Bulaga. No celebrity sightings yet, but you get a top view of the Pinoy Big Brother House.

Half of my team is leaving for Chicago next weekend, just in time for the World Series! Lucky freaks.

Speaking of sports tis season's Fantasy NBA roster just in! In the lineup:

Ray Allen, Michael Redd, Jermaine O'Neal, Pau Gasol.

Did not get: AI, Rashard Lewis and Tayshaun Prince.
Don't care much about: Jamir Nelson, Caron Butler, Earl Boykins.

Let the games begin!

Destiny

Was browsing through pictures on my PC when I came across this one, taken in 2004, in an attempt to fight away the (Atenean) blues.

Ah yes, destiny. Funny how that turns out.

(Yes, I was bitter. Now before the green hate mail pours in, let me just say they probably still would've won, regardless.)

A Circle Can't Fit In Where A Square Should Be

Ok, so I've been listening to Extreme lately. A sure sign of unwellness.

Though I have been feeling under the weather this past week, enough to skip a couple of days of work. I've actually been sick since Friday the week before last, but I've postponed wellness by going out last Sunday night, among other things.

Things I've learned while sick:

• There's nothing to watch during the daytime except back-to-back Daily Shows.
• Keith Haring's Pop Shop closed uh, shop, last month in New York, some 30 days before I realized I wanted to own something done by Keith Haring.
• And finally, I learned through reading Kurt Cobain's Journals that truth is not only stranger, but funnier than fiction.
  

Communication Breakdown

It's been a stupid week for DSL connectivity.

If I had known for the past week that I needn't use Enternet to connect (apparently, now the DSL is on full-time, how that happened I don't know), this is what I would have blogged about:

Friendster: Its new "Who's been viewing you" feature. The real reason why we should take to the streets: they took Friendster stalking away from us. Temporarily, at least, since you can turn anonymity back on anyway. But still, I feel I should've been warned. Now half of CADS think I'm some sort of psycho.

My new gym program: My personal trainer for a day greeted me with what looked like a popped blood vessel in his left eye. Eeek, I'm not ready for that kind of exercise routine. I'm just here for the sights, thank you. You know, until I can go back to being anonymous on Friendster.

Speaking of gym, I saw someone there that made it well worth the price of membership.

Work: has been nuts. I've fallen into some old traps I swore not to get caught in again, so it's been kind of depressing. Maybe some things never change, no matter how many times you feel that they should. My only escape has been a constant barrage of Led Zeppelin songs (Early and Latter Days) over iTunes, and the occasional Fruit-In-Ice-Cream.

Paramita's Tala: has quietly become the comfort album of the season. There's something about a girl on drums that will always look amazing, no matter how many times you see it.

Saturday's tres weird videoke gimmick. It's not that I'm particularly averse to singing in front of people, it's singing in front of people I've just met and whose high school reunion I apparenly just crashed. And I ended up contributing to the bill, wtf? Good thing we salvaged the evening with a little Kabab.

Last night's tres cool paella gimmick, post-gym. The "pre-emptive weight loss" theory, which never works, at work. It's like having your calories on death row suddenly getting presidentially-pardoned, and they celebrate by having sex and multiplying.