Showing posts with label Email/Internet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Email/Internet. Show all posts

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Friendster subtexts

The grammar police was so hungry they ate punctuation marks


Let's all admit it, we never update our Friendster profiles for self-fulfillment. We never gain joy and shed tears of happiness from reading and rereading our useless profiles. The only reason we fill in those stupid blanks is to show off. We want to broadcast how cultured we are with our high-brow interests like, I don't know, poetry, landscape photography, old churches, the stars, sunsets, raindrops, and all that cheesy artsy fartsy shit. Or how smart we are because we read Milan Kundera and pretend to understand The Unbearable Lightness of Being just to compel others to ask, "Huh? What's that?" and laugh at them because they're so unintelligent unlike intellectual you who appreciates post-modern literature. Or perhaps we want to assert how cool we are because we think Hollywood movies are pure rubbish and everything indie is the shiznit.


That being said, if you're going to use Friendster to brag about how awesome you are, then for heaven's sake, do it well. Like these actual profile answers; I can only imagine what the hell their owners really mean by posting the following information:


Exhibit No. 1

Profile owner probably meant: "In reality, Dan Brown is Jesus. And in the same way that Jesus was able to walk on water and turn it into wine, Dan Brown made a retard like myself learn to read his holy words." On the other hand, this Dan Brown fan made me laugh—not at him, but with him:




Exhibit No. 2

Profile owner probably meant: "It's true; beauty and brains go together like fried chicken (thigh part) and a flat tire."


Exhibit No. 3

Profile owner probably meant: "I never get sex unless I pay for it, have the chick blindfolded in a non-kinky way, and cup my callused hands over her mouth."


Exhibit No. 4


Profile owner probably meant: "I thought the word 'fag' was spelled e-m-o."


Exhibit No. 5

Profile owner probably meant: "Sorry, typo! What I meant was, 'I thrive on eating books' because I'm a sad, lonely tub of lard with some sort of illness that makes think stacks of books are stacks of pancakes."



Exhibit No. 6

Profile owner probably meant: "My name is Erik Santos."


Exhibit No. 7

Profile owner (a man) probably meant: "I can go both ways."


Exhibit No. 8

Profile owner probably meant what she said, but check out this douche's testimonial for her:



Exhibit No. 9

Profile owner probably meant: "I mingle with sadness, I chase melancholy, and I romance loneliness all because I fucking lost my black eyeliner and black nail polish."


Exhibit No. 10

Profile owner probably meant: "Exhibit No. 9 is my soulmate. But exhibit No. 11 is my twin brother whose mere existence embarrasses me enough to prompt me into throwing myself off a cliff and into the cold, black, hollow arms of the angel of death who summons the soothing riffs of destruction and pandemonium with just a snap of her black nail-polished fingers."


Exhibit No. 11

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Ebay.ph sells weird/ugly shit

Miss Diss: Today we have a very special guest to help me rummage for dissable stuff on Ebay.ph.

Mr. D: And FYI, I've got nothing to do with this shit. The only reason you dragged me into this is to make sure someone at least reacts to your pseudo punchlines.

Miss Diss: Screw you. (whimpers softly)


Item No. 1



Miss Diss: You want a pair of short?

Mr. D: Kunin mo nga yung short mo dun sa samapayan.

Miss Diss: Short pants, short pants, short pants.

Mr. D: P130?! And I don't get the design. It looks like those squiggly DNA stuff on CSI.

Miss Diss: Well I can imagine Horatio Caine wearing that. You know, if you stare at it long enough, you'll see a 3D dinosaur pop out of it.

Mr. D: Uhm, not really.

Miss Diss: Okay!


Item No. 2



Mr. D: That's one ugly ass pair of P1,200 shoes. It looks like a dog mangled it.

Miss Diss: No. It looks like a mangled dog.

Mr. D: And check out the product description: "In very good pre-owned condition...very nice!"

Miss Diss: Okay, so if that's nice, then mouldy bread looks appetizing.

Mr. D: It should be called "chaka boots" instead.


Item No. 3



Miss Diss: Feliz Navidad!

Mr. D: Did you really have to?

Miss Diss: I just had to. Sorry. I can imagine a "Take A Bow" Christmas remix, too.

Mr. D: Do you even realize that half of your six or so readers were too young to even remember that matador video?

Miss Diss: And you're not one of them. Anyway! Santa looks drunk, what do you think?

Mr. D: Definitely. Or too much eggnog made him woozy.

Miss Diss: Is it my imagination or does he have this crazy perverted expression on his face?

Mr. D: Like, "Oooh children will sit on my lap! Mwahahahaha!"

Miss Diss: I can picture him saying that with his lengua out.


Item No. 4



Mr. D: So, correct me if I'm wrong, but this person's selling a freaking paper bag?

Miss Diss: Look like it. But it's...Precious Moments. Awww...

Mr. D: And how much is the shipping fee again?

Miss Diss: Sixty-fucking-pesos.


Item No. 5



Miss Diss: This piece of paper's so heeyuge...

Mr. D: ...it can't move!


Item No. 6


Mr. D: Okay, so its product description says: "This gas mask provides you full protection from being attacked by some poisonous gases and smoke if a life threatening emergency happens in public places like hotel, shopping malls, the subway, office buildings, warehouses and the home."

Miss Diss: It's either this: You die of embarrassment wearing some ugly piece of aluminum foil on your head in a public place. Or by wearing that hideous thing, you scare the shit out of the poisonous gases and smoke.

Mr. D: The model looks like he's in hell.


Item No. 7



Miss Diss: Would you want to receive a gift like this?

Mr. D: No.

Miss Diss: Even if it contained real pills?

Mr. D: I think it's a subtle way of telling your friend to overdose on them because he or she doesn't have friends real enough to buy nicer gifts.

Miss Diss: Why's it a "wishing capsule," anyway?

Mr. D: Apparently, they "are very cute capsules that you can write your wishes for someone and give it to them or just put your own wishes on them."

Miss Diss: Okaaay.


Item No. 8




Miss Diss: Sold!


Item No. 9



Mr. D: Dude, this looks really freaky.

Miss Diss: It looks like German Moreno.

Mr. D: Walaaaang tulugaaan!

Miss Diss: Send in the clowns...

Mr. D: Can you imagine keeping this in your room?

Miss Diss: I'd hate to wake in the middle of the night with it beside me—humping my arm or something.

Mr. D: I fear its moving jaw at nighttime. For many different reasons.

Miss Diss: Hey, isn't German Moreno gay?


Item No. 10



Mr. D: I can barely even see the product. But does the chick come with the P999 package? Because if it does, it's a pretty good deal, don't you think?

Miss Diss: Beats me. Hey, look! She's got other pictures, too! "Finally! After 72,134,972 days approaching agents and Photoshopping my set cards, I'm now a product endorser!"

Mr. D: You're so mean, heartless, cruel, and all other words that pop out when you type Shift+F7 on the word "bad." You will burn in hell.

Miss Diss: I will not! I just state my observations.

Mr. D: And your observations are all evil. Picking on people, animals, and inanimate objects. Wait till I tell your six or so readers what you just bought on Ebay.ph. That pink Hello Kit...

Miss Diss: Fuck you, shut up!

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Some chick's beach sex scandal

Stiff necks: uncomfortable


I never knew who Daniella Cicarelli was until I heard she had YouTube blocked in Brazil because of her pseudo sex scandal video. With my insatiable desire to live up to my smart-ass image, I did my research on this controversial model and now I know that she was Ronaldo's ex, which is all that really matters because I don't give a jackshit about how good-looking she is, anyway, because: 1) Pretty models with hot bodies are a dime a dozen in the World Wide Web. 2) Her mouth reminds me of Donald Duck. 3) I don't have a penis.


What I don't get, however, is why she's so fucking pissed that her pathetic excuse for soft porn is posted all over the net. Be a public figure fucking your brains out in public (and in open air at that), expect the paparazzi. Better yet, woman, read my first sentence.


If you haven't seen the video yet, don't bother looking for it on YouTube or Google videos. Not only is it not on those sites anymore, but I took the liberty of posting it here for you. Although for chrissakes, don't you dare jack off to my blog, freaking perverts. Besides, it's not porn. At all. However, I must say, that's one effin' lovelyhotfinesmokin' ass. My boyfriend loves my ass, but Daniella Cicarelli ass makes me want to drag my ass to the gym.


Again, no wanking to my blog. Please.


Wednesday, December 06, 2006

MaLing

In other words, Chinese spam.


If you've read my email exchange with Mr. James Brown, you shouldn't be surprised that I, yet again, am bitching about spam. Stupid fucking spam. And yesterday—surprise, surprise—guess what was in my inbox?


Click here for the bigger file



I was so fascinated with the Chinese characters and was simply touched that a stranger would go all Hallmark-y and "You've Got Mail" with me that I just had to reply...


Here for the full version



I'm a bitch. So shoot me. But the weirdness doesn't end there. This afternoon, I received hate mail!


The beginnings of a catfight here!


Hmmmm? I only posted mah Cha-nees spam rat now, so I'll just be a presumptious twat (and all other rude synonyms for the "c" word she used) and say that my hater is an angst-ridden emo-wannabe hater by day, full-blown Chinese spammer by night! Two fulltime vocations! A true career woman! A bona fide lady of the new millennium! Cosmo girl to the core! You go to hell, girl!


Hot damn, of course I was going to reply!


The closest thing to mud wrestling here!


I'm praying for a reply and again, promise to update you guys on this online catfight of sorts.

Friday, November 24, 2006

An email exchange with Mr. Brown

So I checked my Gmail's spam folder and found the usual penis enlargement tablet/pump/voodoo spell as well as a number of other useless shit. But this email caught my attention:




If you're too lazy to click on it for a larger view, here's what it says, copied and pasted as it is:


Dear Friend Sir/Madam
Iam Mr.JAMES BROWN the SON of late MR. BROWN FRANCIS,the renowned Zimbabwean,wine and catle farmer.I know it might surprise you how I got your contact.I got it courtesy of Yellow Business Pages.
During the war waged against farmers in Zimbabwe by the supporters and cohorts of President Robert Mugabe to claim all the white owned farms in our country,my late Father's farms were among those targeted by the ZANU-PFarmed group.In the cause of revolution in Zimbabwe,the ZANU farmed group attacked and invaded my Father's farms,burned and destroyed his farm and eventually killed him
.After my father's death last year,I managed to escape to South Africa because my life was threatened and Zimbabwe was no longer safe for me.I escaped safely into South Africa with my father's life- time fortune of US$25Million[Twenty Five Million United States Dollars]in cash and other important documents of property title and other valueables as he instructed before his death.The money and the valueables were concealed and secured in one Treasure Box and was transported through Diplomatic means.The Box is currently safely secured in the vaults of a private security firm in South Africa. Presently,Iam residing temporarily in South Africa pending the outcome of an appeal filed on my behalf by my attorney to the South African Ministry of Internal Affairs to grant me a political assylum.I am in a dilemma of how to move this money safely out of the security deposit company for investments.Moreover,due to the government's stringent monetary policies regulations and the sensitive and volatile political situation,it would be most dangerous to attempt investment here,as such an attempt will jeopardise my chances. In recognition of your personal Executive Power and the investment opportunities that abound in your country,I solicit for your assistance in moving this money out of South Africa.I will also like to use this money for investment in your country.You will guard all my future investments in your country and it will be operated in a partnership level.You will be getting 20% of the investment capital moved to your country as your share for your assistance,The balance will be plunged into investment projects. Upon receipt of your indication of interest to go into co-operation with me,we will open up discussions on the best ways to reclaim the consignment containing the cash and other valueables and ways to invest in your country. Waiting for your urgent reply. Yours faithfully, MR. JAMES BROWN


And because I'm such a compassionate person who was conceived and born to make it to heaven where I shall fiddle with my own harp and headbang to the most angelic of psalms, I couldn't find it in my warm fluffy heart not to respond to the poor man. Here's my actual reply (no Photoshop whatsoever! I shit you not):



Click on it, you lazy mongrels.


I'm currently waiting for Mr. Brown's response. And I promise to update you guys as soon as he agrees to share his wealth with me.