Neologisms

I’m not really quite sure if these definitely were already added in the 2006 dictionary. But it will if you continuously use it on a day-to-day basis. I first encountered this from a friend’s (I’m citing her for intellectual property right (IPR) purposes or else she’ll bashed me for assmosing away her being the first. I just wrongly used the word, thus the italicization) forwarded message. It’s quite short so I tried surfing the net for the complete list, again for IPR purposes, click here. I don’t have money to hire a lawyer yet. To make this a tad original, I tried making a more “local” example (not necessarily exact) to each word.

404 - Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide Web error message "404-URL Not Found," meaning that the requested web page could not be located. Used as in: "Don't bother asking him... he's 404, man."
E.g.: Tay, dinelete mo naman yung text message eh, masyado ka namang 404, akin na nga yan.

Assmosis - The process by which some people seem to absorb success and advancement by kissing up to the boss.
E.g.: Tingnan mo yang valedictorian natin, alam ko’ng sikreto nyan, magaling mag assmosis yan.

Adminisphere - The rarefied organizational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the adminisphere are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve.
E.g.: San galing to? Hindi na natin gawain to. Hmmm, galing to sa kabilang adminisphere no?

Alpha Geek - The most knowledgeable, technically proficient person in an office or work group.
E.g.: Akala mo kung sinong alpha geek, eh Word lang ang alam nyan.

Blamestorming - Sitting around in a group discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed and who was responsible.
E.g.: Sige mag blamestorming na tayo, sino’ng bumasag ng pinggan?

Body Nazis - Hard-core exercise and weightlifting fanatics who look down on anyone who doesn't work out obsessively.
E.g.: Ayan na ang mga Body Nazis naglaladlad, hala takbo na, tapos tayo dyan, tingnan nyo na lang ang mga katawan.

Chainsaw Consultant - An outside expert brought in to reduce the employee head count, leaving the brass with clean hands.
E.g.: Hinala ko naghire si sir ng Chainsaw Consultant, ayaw nyang mabiharan ang kamay nya e. May pagkaPontio Pilato yan e.

Career Limiting Move (CLM) - Used among microserfs (Microsoft Employees) to describe an ill-advised activity. Trashing your boss while he or she is within earshot is a serious CLM.
E.g.: Pinalabas lang nagresign yan kasi sa totoo lang tinanggal yan, C-ni-LM nya kasi si sir, eh may spy yung isa.

Cube Farm - An office filled with cubicles.
E.g.: Amoy tao sa cube farm nyo ah. Hindi lang ako sure if buhay or patay.

Flight Risk - Used to describe employees who are suspected of planning to leave the company or department soon.
E.g.: Puro flight risk mga employees dito so good luck na lang if makita mo pa sila next month.

G.O.O.D. Job - A "Get-Out-Of-Debt" job. A well-paying job people take in order to pay off their debts, one that they will quit as soon as they are solvent again.
E.g.: G.O.O.D. job lang to, pag kaalis ko dito, gawa ako sarili kong company.

Generica - Features of the American (Philippine urban) landscape that are exactly the same no matter where one is, such as fast food joints, strip malls, subdivisions. Used as in: "We were so lost in Generica that I forgot what city we were in."
E.g.: Masyado akong lost sa Generica na nakalimutan kong wala na ako sa Pilipinas. (Tinranslate lang actually)

Idea Hamsters - People who always seem to have their idea generators running.
E.g.: Ask mo yan, idea hamster yan, promise.

Irritainment - Entertainment and media spectacles that are annoying but you find yourself unable to stop watching them. The Erap trials were a prime example.
E.g.: Hirap dito sa mga pulitiko puro irritainment ang ginagawa. Miriam Defensor-Santiago, save us.

Mouse Potato - The online, wired generation's answer to the couch potato.
E.g.: Mouse potato ka rin? Kaya pala namumula na ang mga mata mo.

OhNo-Second - That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you've just made a BIG mistake (Oh no!).
E.g.: May ohno-second ka pa para magsuicide, ito ang baril.

Prairie Dogging - When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people's heads pop up over the walls to see what's going on.
E.g.: Hinaan mo ang boses mo, madalas magprairie dogging dito. Ano?!! (shouts) Buntis ka?!!!

Percussive Maintenance - The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again.
E.g.: Huwag kang magpanic, percussive maintenance lang yan. Hayan, nawala na ang monitor.

SITCOMs - What yuppies turn into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with the kids. Stands for "Single Income, Two Children, And Oppressive Mortgage".
E.g.: SITCOM ka na rin? Welcome to the club.

Starter Marriage - A short-lived first marriage that ends in divorce with no kids, no property and no regrets.
E.g.: Mahirap magstarter marriage dito, hindi uso divorce dito e, saying nga e, may prospect na ako sana.

Stress Puppy - A person who seems to thrive on being stressed out and whiny.
E.g.: Huwag kang stress puppy kung ayaw mong masaktan, stressed na ako.

Swiped Out - An ATM or credit card that has been rendered useless because the magnetic strip is worn away from extensive use.
E.g.: Naswiped out ATM ko, buti na lang walang laman. Actually, check balance lang ang ginagawa ko dun, kunwari may winiwithdraw, para mahold-up naman, magandang experience yun.

Seagull Manager - A manager, who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps over everything, and then leaves.
E.g.: Alert Level 5, sea gull manager is within 25-meter radius, earplugs out.

Salmon Day - The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die in the end.
E.g.: Salmon Day na naman. Sino kaya ang susunod na maloloko?

Umfriend - A sexual relation of dubious standing or a concealed intimate relationship, as in "This is Dylan, my ... um...friend."
E.g.: Ang umfriend ko, umfriend nya rin, bale MWF sa akin, TThS sa kanya. Sunday lang pahinga nun.

Yuppie Food Stamps - The ubiquitous $20 bills (Php 100 bills sa Pinoy) spewed out of ATMs everywhere. Often used when trying to split the bill after a meal: "We owe $8 each, but all anybody's got are yuppie food stamps."
E.g.: Dami mo naming yuppie food stamps, pahiram, makakalibre tayo sa jeep nyan sa umaga.

FIN#

Bwak Bwak Mountain

Brooke Burke Mountain, I wanna see. A threesome of Bwak Bwak, Dilana (severely pierced), and Storm Large (severely damaged Lindsey Lohan), I wanna see. These three bodies slightly canoodling each other’s while standing side by side on stage, I wanna see. The idea of them in the Jacuzzi gives me chills, just like Dilana-singing-any-song chills. Rock Star Supernovapiattos is damn lame without a slight tickle from Dilana heart Bwak Bwak heart Storm giving everyone the thought of a perfect aftershow. Dilana, (taken from Tommy Lee) I wanna. Bwak Bwak, I wanna more. Storm, I wanna most.

This doesn’t make sense, I know.

Pattern(s)

Back to the compilation. It’s never over, you know. This was supposedly based on the poem, Patterns, by Amy Lowell. If you want to see the poem in its entirety, click this.

Minority

We live a mediocre life. We adhere to what has been there, what has been existent. We succumb to the patterns that make up our lives. Even the cycle of life is one big, humungous, colossal, massive, immense, monstrous, whopping, thumping, behemoth, Brobdingnagian, Bunyanesque, cyclopean, elephantine, enormous, gargantuan, gigantic, Herculean, heroic, jumbo, mammoth, mastodonic, mighty, monumental, prodigious, pythonic, stupendous, titanic, gigantesque, walloping, massy, great (keep on coming Thesaurus), huge (as in Donald Trump huge) pattern. And we are happy about it. No one really cares.

But what makes our lives different is that we have a choice. And one of it is breaking old trampling RULES. (I say we rebel, we rebel yami of Wowowee). As Green Day’s Billy Armstrong would sing, “I want to be the minority/Down with the moral majority/’Coz I want to be the minority.” It is time for us to be original, unique, innovative, inventive, novel, creative, new, unusual, imaginative, exceptional, inimitable, distinctive, matchless, rare (Thesaurus is dead tired), and make our own patterns. For these patterns we make can be the patterns of the future. Be it good or inevitably bad. Bad is always necessary you know; too much good is boring.

And this is our legacy to the next generation. If they will follow it, screw them for lack of originality, style, innovation, novelty, uniqueness, freshness, imagination (stop it, will you, Thes?*).

*Thes – short for Thesaurus, like Dick – short for dictionary, or Insane – short for Insaneclopedia.

Why D World Need Super, man!!!

Because.

I can never really articulate well how the movie worked for me, but I guess this girl/woman can. Click this.
Parker Posey rocks. And the brownout (in this place, it's normal, Lex Luthor is here) in the middle of Lois & SM flying brouhaha was just in the right time; it broke the momentum for cheesiness.

During the start of the film, if you're arrect enough, you would notice that there is a word ALIENATION (subtly referring to SM's identity) on the scrabble board. How did the pseudo-mother do that (other than there are only seven words available for each player of scrabble; it is possible that she did alien first and added nation) alone? Was she playing with her dog or ummm another alien? Just a thought.

What if Lois was shot in the stomach while conceiving the presumably superbaby, will he get killed or will he catch the bullet and shot it back? Just another thought.

How did the supersex transpired? Maybe I will just stop thinking.

Alone

If the cat is away, the mouse is alone.

Dull Doll

Still, this is a part of the compilation. I will organize them sooner if they get a little bit interesting. It is somewhat in response to the poem by Merlie Alunan entitled “Bringing the Dolls”. That’s just it.

I Don’t Have a Doll

We settle for the goodness of something or someone that gives us comfort. Like the ragged doll, we still live in the past. Moving on has always been a hard thing to do. The past still lingers in our memory. And again, just like the doll, it is hard to leave behind.

We can’t trust our memory, but this is our only evidence against the harshness of the present and the unpredictability of the future. This is adaptation. As Sir Charles Darwin would say, it is survival of the fittest. This has nothing to do with this article.

Old tattered dolls always symbolize something (if the red big round dot has historical meaning and whatnot (I’m referring to the flag of Japan) so are other things). Our attachment to it means that we can’t handle the problems of the world by ourselves alone (hmmm, seem redundant). We need someone to help us (hmmm, seem corny). Be it living or nonliving (hmmm, so obvious).

We “bring the doll” because we have to, just like we “bring the bringing” or “bring the okra for pakbet.” There is no connection actually or are there any figures of speech to depict this correlation. (Hyperbole, my Ass). We bring old memories because we have to. We don’t follow everything they tell us because we have to, not all rules are for our good, my “id” smirks in silence (This is very untrue, my “superego” begs to differ). This is a war of Freud’s structure of mind and if you say Freud, they say “sex”. Another correlation out from the pits of my ass, that many, yes. We move on because we have to. We read the poem because we have to. I am writing this shit because I have to. And you finished reading this because no one tells you to read this, really, not because you have to. Says who?

Err

To err is human, to errs is humans.

Imagery

They say one of the good/basic elements of poetry is imagery, painting the picture through your mind. This is my take on imagery, using imagery as the center of attention, oh really?, says the puttanesca kikay in my mind. This kikay is not really a character of my dissociative personality, ‘coz I don’t even have a personality. Puttanesca, shut up! I love puttanesca also known as “whore’s pasta” derived from the Italian word puttana, which means; yes you guessed it right, hoe. Hoe let the dogs out, hoe, hoe, hoe! Such a bitch.*

This is part of that compilation you are sick of hearing about. Ironically, it’s about people (not only women but generally women, I’m not being sexist here or statistician, so don’t ask for any statistics or sex or both) who can’t get enough of themselves. Vanity is their idol. It’s really hard to live in this vainglorious world. If we die, we might as well be beautiful, right? And let the worms do the action six feet under.


Glowing Red Radiance a.k.a. Nip/Tuck

The curly hair gone straight
Down to the exposed clavicle
As sun barely lit
The white powdery skin,
Lips burly and pouting
The face still glowing red of makeup

Isn’t she really sad?
Coping to the vain world
Putting padding in her brassiere
Wearing high thongs while
Enduring the pulp red itch
Isn’t she lovely?
Though very thin
From chewing paper and
Leaving the red meat

Her dark eyes turned blue
While the mascara smudges her lashes
While droplets moisten her contacts
Isn’t she happy?
She then cracked a smile
Watching models on TV
And held her aching stomach
As she spew out all that was in there
Bloody red.
Isn’t she wonderful?
She still smiled as she waits
Behind the white sheets or scrub suit
For her next injection

*One word leads to another, from dog to bitch. Bitch is a female dog, which colloquially became synonymous to cunt because of its behavior (during mating season) of fuck-locking with all the male dogs around. Try kicking them, they won’t even separate, talking about imagery.

Hiligaynon Ug Kinaray-a Kuno

This is the most pretentious of the bunch that I have written. I just thought I would grab my teacher’s sympathy (“linta” style) by writing something close to the heart. It’s pathetic, clever, and brave. Pathetic, for I know you can never get wrong with your own language (grammar wise, etc.), clever since no one really thought of writing a poem in Hiligaynon/Karay-a in an English Class (talking ‘bout style), and brave for “How dare me write meself powem not in Enguleesh, am myself stupeeed?!!! " ‘Nuf said. I have been very hard to myself.

PASI

Nagahululog ang mga pinasi
Kang bugas sa kawayan nga salog
Sa gamay nga gisi tanang pula nga plastic
Ini nagakaharagkag kag dali-dali
Nga nagapanaog paisa-isa
Para mahakos ang ginapangalagkan nga duta.
Pag-abot sang inugpanhiyapon
Ang isa kagantang, binilog na lang
Kang naman-an kang iloy
Dasig nga ginkagkag ang mga gabok
Nga kawayan kag ginpamudyot
Ang mga buti sang bugas nga
Nagahamyang sa basa nga yuta
Samtang ginadaha sa gadaba-daba nga kalayo
Nagkari ang mga tanod ni waay pagpanuktok
Kag ginpandakop ang ana nga mga bata
Nga gatanga sa lamisa
Nabilin na lang nga nagatasngo ang nanay
Samtang nagapanimaho na ang dapog
Pilit nya ginapanumdum ang tana
Nga mga kabataan nga ginpasibandan
Sa pagkawat sang inugkaon
Nga batok nga tinig-ang.


Whatever!

Death/Love

Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time. It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other. --- Leo Buscaglia

I love you each other.

Slash vs. Axl

The above title really has nothing to do with the following article, the hell I care with Guns N' Roses, I liked November Rain’s video though, very theatrical like Phantom of the Opera. And all the suing and legal battles are so Phantom of the Opera, why not they just slash each others throat, so we can live in peace. What am I talking about? We can never live in peace. Nor we will die in peace. It’s not going to happen. Anyhow, this is the second installment of the collection I made haphazardly in college. I bet you’re not really that interested. This article was in response to the song “American Idiot” by Green Day. I don’t know if my teacher got this one cause I don’t even get it myself. But, I like the style. I am a critic of my work and I more often than not abhor them. I love it like that. Always.

Slashes

What if I started talking with slashes/just like the lyrics of the song/And all my political and social sentiments will be plotted with music/I would be singing on the top of my lungs/It sounds cliché/But everybody will hear me/It will be because the voice was the catch/and the message was hypothetically real/And everyone will be in my herd/under my control/This is my own propaganda/

Then, my voice will be heard/not in a humdrum kind of way/I will be ‘godly’ but not popular than Jesus Christ/or else it will spell the end of me just like what the Beatles did/Everyone will listen to me/The society will pay attention/The government will also listen/The big-mouthed bastards will stop and ponder/that Nature will soon take its wrath/that what goes around comes around/Yes, another cliché/It’s a pattern/And all of us will remain helpless/

But this will not happen/Songs always fall on deaf ears/Just like the pirated CD/My voice will be stuck in their heads though/And I have done my purpose/This is my song/Please listen/

Come on!/Join the bandwagon.

…the song fades… and we stopped singing… no more slashes… just poignant dots in our minds... thank you for not listening… end.

Wuv

I will be publishing the articles which garnered the Pulitzer Prize for Nonsense (Punked!). I made them two years ago for CL 101 (Comparative Literature). Most of them were made on the day of the deadline. I obviously work hard (if not best) under pressure. This was not included in the BS Bio prospectus but I just felt like enrolling in this class. I somewhat got a high grade in this subject so surely there was no regret in wasting my time.

This is the first installment of the said collection of prose, poems, trash, crap, dirt, shit, and other stylistic-simplistic-idiotic literary pieces. I don’t smell any confidence here. Anyway, it is a poem about lovemaking and the things your mouth can’t control saying if you’re under the influence of ecstasy (the feeling not the pills). This does not translate into something personally, promise. Enjoy! Or else.

Tolah Iruteka

U climbed over me
Tickling my erogenous zones
Brushing ur hair on my face
I lie still. Numb.
Like a song,
U filled up my senses
Distorting my vocabulary.
I shouted in ecstasy, in climax.
I wuv u.

U didn’t reply.

Tale of Two Grasses

Roger Federer bowed just a set (overall) to its perennial finale contender, Rafael Nadal, before grabbing his fourth consecutive silver gilt cup (and cover to be exact) in his favorite Grand Slam court, the grasses of Wimbledon. While, Frenchwoman Amelie Mauresmo continued to prove her being WTA’s no. 1 by coming out of the last two sets and beat Justin (watchamacallit) Henin-Hardene in an exciting three-set game. This would at least make a little consolation to the loss of France over Italy in the World Cup.

Speaking of the more humongous field of grass (70 yards wide, 110 yards long to be exact), Italy won the World Cup title after beating France in an exciting shootout. They scored all five while the French conceded one goal on its second attempt because David Trezeguet hit the ball errantly on the crossbar, which landed slightly out of the thick 6-inch wide line. I guess they already have someone to blame (Zizou cannot be blamed or else there’ll be war). The game was watched by 1 billion people in the world. These people witnessed action on the last minutes of the game when Zinedine Zidane head-butted Marco Materazzi on the chest and was awarded a red card and made an inglorious exit of his last international game before retiring. At least, he got some redemption after been given the Golden Ball.

Italy will celebrate by even snorting more grass if this is allowed, of course.

Boredom Come

Boredom Come

I have nothing to do. After a day’s work, I have nothing to do. I want to do something but I always end up doing nothing. Procrastination is my surname.

I cook canned sardines. After sautéing three gloves of garlic and a small onion bulb, I mixed it up with sardines soaked in previously beaten eggs. After a few minutes or so, my dinner is ready, good for two, but usually I eat it alone. If it only takes a few minutes to cook it, it would take me an hour to make fire. Apparently, I am cooking old-school style, no electric power, no LPG tanks, just charcoals and an old slice of rubber slippers. If not canned sardines, I am cooking chorizo, scrambled eggs, or Yakisoba noodles, I’m giving meaning to deep fry; it actually tastes good. It’s nice cooking and preparing and stuffs like that, but I still feel bored. And eventually boring anyone who reads this kind of shit.

To continue, I walk long miles to reach the plaza near the Cathedral just to buy two scoops of Cookies & Cream and Double Dutch or Very Rocky Road and Ube Macapuno or Vanilla and Coffee Crumble. It depends on what is available. Then I trudge back the aisles and pavements of Boredom Come. If I pass by a convenient store, I might get myself yesterday’s issue of Philippine Daily Inquirer, it costs cheaper, or buy Nova or Piattos Sour Cream & Onion or that costly Lay’s Sour Cream & Onion (I guess you already know my favorite, not the newspaper, idiot). I will eat them while watching a tennis match with Maria Sharapova, Roger Federer, or Rafael Nadal in it. Otherwise, I will attempt to write on my all-purpose blue notebook and end up drawing caricatures (inclining more on the pornographic side, oh shit, I’m screwed) of people in my mind. Then, everyone who still has the patience to read up to this point dies in boredom.

To those who still survived the grueling and treacherous test of how much can you not persist to keep on comprehending this kind of crap, I eventually dose off or contemplate before eventually dosing off. See, there is no more to read than yet another crap. And I will wake up late then do nothing before realizing that I am already late. I am essentially testing how much adrenaline will my adrenal gland pump if I have realized that I will be eventually missing, uhmmm, nothing if I became late, other than of course the cash deducted on my salary. This is kind of a lame excuse of my tardiness. I impugn (thanks to shift+F7) it back to my adrenal gland. I think everyone who has reached this stage of reading through the words of boredom is eventually dead or dying by now.

For the dying, this is my caveat (word for the day, pronounced as kavyat, for the meaning search the web or use that red pocket edition dictionary that you have that you can’t even put in your pocket because of its thickness), if you’re still interested you’ll eventually die. A friend told me that I sort of have this inkling towards the dead and called me morbid, I loved it, albeit I usually wear white, this is to prove that stereotypes on the relationship between death and the color black is so 20th century. Silver was the new black in the year 2000. Pink was the new black last year. I say white is the new black this century. You see I am making no point here but to lengthen this kind of trash. This Boredom Come I have made out of troubled youth memories and frustrations towards fantasy and afterlife (where I am going with this, this is too philosophical and it reminds me of my lame Philo I professor back in college, so lame that Shift+F7 a.k.a. English Thesaurus won’t suggest any words for it. Still senseless) sometimes gets people engrossed or worse flabbergasted or even worse finds it funny because of my face while retelling it. After I have written this, I will do nothing, may be cook, but generally will do nothing. This is such a waste of your time, I will now stop, I promise. I lied.

And if you’re still alive, marry me or comment at the end of the blog? I guess you’d rather comment.

Supernova-va-va-va

I watched the premiere show of Rock Star: Supernova this morning. Oh boy, if not for the really talented auditioneers, I would not even bother to watch Tommy Lee yet again (in a more sober version) leading the group with the “cheesy” name. Obviously, the name was really made to sell. I don’t wanna see one of the contestants to go home tomorrow since it is hard to tell this early who amongst them has great talent and X factor. Some can really make better first impressions but others, with their passion and soul to the music, grabs you ‘somewhere else’ by just being themselves. Unlike INXS, who obviously has the fans, the new band will depend its popularity on the show’s success and how much people will love to see/hear Tommy Lee minus Pamela Anderson, Gilby Clarke and Jason Newsted’s again minus the fame of their former bands. Or they will fall on the crumbs of Velvet Revolver, another Frankenstein band.

Watch the new season and have the chance to vote. It’s worldwide. And why aren’t there any Asians?

+++++

Sparks of Wisdom (from text message):

You’re never too old to learn something stupid.
Smile, tomorrow will be worse.
Never miss a good chance to shut up.
If you hate yourself in the morning, sleep till noon.
Don’t run; you’ll just die tired.
Don’t steal, that’s the government’s job.
The number of people watching you is directly proportional to the stupidity of your action.
He, who laughs last, thinks the slowest.
Never take life seriously; nobody gets out alive anyway.
Always remember you’re unique. Just like everyone else is.

+++++

So, it is France vs. Italy to the finals. Germany was trampled earlier on the last few minutes of the second half, 2-0, and Portugal will make Zinedine Zidane (repeat it 70 times) voodoo dolls to prick and prick, even though they’re not Russians or witches or wizards, for making the penalty goal.

+++++

Maria Sharapova will face the uber-buffed (man-clone) Amelie Mauresmo tonight on StarSports Live for a second shot of winning another Wimbledon crown (or sterling silver salver, another tongue twister) to match her dangling earrings to move to the finals. Apparently, she sailed through by beating fellow Russian Elena Dementieva in a match fueled by the cartwheeling streaker. Elena actually beamed at the sight of the naked man and his, ummm, sneakers. Why did she smile, I wonder?

Roger Federer has never dropped a set yet again after beating Mario Ancic in their quarterfinals game. You can now clearly see that he will still reign supreme on the grass court. He just really loves grass. *Wink wink*

+++++

In regards to the Globe-Pacman incident, there was a supposed burning of Globe cell site in Bohol, which led to the communication mishap all over Visayas or so my fellow conspirators say. Apparently based on statistics, this is the 30+th time a Globe cell site has been bombed, burned, or sabotaged compared to nil, nada, love, nothing of Smart cell sites. Hmmmm, again, I wonder.

++++++

Today is mine. Tomorrow is none of my business. Translation: Let’s procrastinate. Bow.

What happened to Globe on the Day Pacman Won?

I don’t know if this happened nationwide (certainly it happened in Visayas; Dumaguete, Cebu, Iloilo in particular), but I was totally pissed when Globe users got “disconnected” on the day Manny Pacquiao won. They should have earned some “peso” there since lots of users will definitely text each other to affirm the victory of the whole nation (sob sob). What happened there? I got interesting conspiracy theories to why this had occurred.

1. It was obvious that Pacman is a Smart endorser (see advertisements), and the Globe people decided why not boycott the news scattering by disconnecting their users.
2. In light of theory #1, since they are anti-Pacman, they bet on Larios to win. Obviously, they lost therefore as a form of sourgraping they punished their users. Not a nice move.
3. They went into upgrading their system on that day since people will be too busy watching the fight (till midnight through replays) and forget about texting. Not a bold move again. Not all people are boxing fans or into bandwagon.
4. Since it is Pacman day, they made an agreement with Smart to make it All-Smart Day in recognition of Pacman’s triumph. What-da-f*ck!!!
5. Globe people were busy strategizing on what to do after seeing the Smart logo on Pacman’s boxing shorts. They were plotting market options and plan B’s and while doing this they forgot to put its users back into “connection” mode.
6. They killed themselves after losing Pacman to Smart as their endorser for the reason that Pacman is either “makamasa, cheap, not classy” or his too expensive for them to buy. I think it is the former; they are not yet ready to cross into Jologs world and be proud to be one.
7. Globe is still an elite group of smartass kikays, I quote a friend, who still aren’t into non-English speaking Filipinos, even if they’re Manny Pacquiao. Damn you coños!

I have been a Globe user for six years now. This is the first time I have felt abuse

Upsets

Brazil, England, Argentina out. The favorites bowed down before reaching semis and it is up to Germany, the host nation, to redeem the title if they indeed will reach finals again. I am a sucker for underdogs, so seeing France kick the World Cup defending champion was something. I'm still betting for the "underdogs" so France will go all the way.

+++

On the grasscourt, it's bye-bye for the defending champion Venus Williams on Women's Singles, Andy Roddick and Andre Agassi on Men's Singles, in his final Wimbledon appearance. I'm still betting for Roger Federer to still reign supreme in this department and Maria Sharapova to prove that she's not a one-trick pony in the grasscourt.

+++

And I'm sensing an upset locally, Manny Pacquiao faltering on his own grounds. Or not. Let's see later.