Trump stomps on beauty queen's dreams

This is for entertainment purposes only and doesn’t reflect actual events of people known to author other than fictitious aspects of her silly brilliant mind. Unless you really believe that I happened to overhear someone's conversation with Le Trump. In Meheeko. Anyway, any similarities are purely coincidental and unintentional.


Somewhere in Mexico a few days before the Miss Universe 2007 pageant...


Brown-raced beauty queen (BBQ): Mr. Trump! Mr. Trump! How could this be? Why didn't I pass the preliminary round? This is unconstitutional! I graduated with honors in college! I am eloquent! I will become a future liar! Er, lawyer!

Donald Trump (BHD—Bad Hair Day): I am the god of the Miss Universe Organization. I have a wife with lovely norks.

BBQ: But Mr. Trump! I object! That has no connection whatsoever with my concern!

BHD: It's got everything to do with your petty concern. See, according to Wikipedia, the Miss Universe pageant was established in 1952—by a swimsuit company. Of course, at that time it sucked because I wasn't the god of the Miss Universe Organization back then. But anyway, yes, a swimsuit company.

BBQ: But I plead not guilty to your bizarre testimony!

BHD: I'm not done, low-pitched whiny bitch. Before I was rudely interrupted—which in my world, is enough reason for me to fire your skinny ass—as I said it was founded by a swimsuit maker. Thus, the preliminary round consists of the swimsuit competition.

BBQ: And so?

BHD: You're fired! I mean, you have no tits.

BBQ: Your reasoning is non sequitur! So what if I don't have huge gazongas? I am intelligent!

BHD: This is a beauty pageant. Read my Trump lips: bee-yoo-tee. You're a pretty girl, yes, but so is that burrito-eating hooker over there.

BBQ: Where?

BHD: There.

BBQ: Okay.

BHD: Okay.

BBQ: And?

BHD: And she's not a Miss Universe contestant. Even if she has big boobies.

BBQ: But that's exactly my argument! The distinguished panel of judges such as the "Bad Boy of Philippine Cinema" and some sexy actor grown men love wanking to can see how awesome I am! And I am a frickin' law student from our country's premier university. That should count for something.

BHD: I don't give a flying fuck if you're a law student from your third-world premier university. You're as flat as your sash. You can't properly fill a swimsuit unless you stuff it with torn pages from your law books. Or pieces of uncooked chicken thighs.

BBQ: How about the preliminary one-on-one interview, then? I delivered our valedictory speech, you know! Didn't I do well what with my intellectual reasoning and all?

BHD: Leave the declamation shtick to the Little Miss Philippines talent portion. You have no jugs.

BBQ: But cross examine me if you will, and you'll see that I'm the total package apt for the Miss Universe title!

BHD: The total package minus the funbags.

BBQ: You're unfair! This can't be! I'm an achiever! I will not sleep at night knowing I didn't ace something! I do not settle for anything less than excellent because I am on a plane beyond the mundane! Mediocrity is the pits! "Okay" is never all right! I am an outstanding member of society and I cannot settle for being a fucking Miss Universe reject! Mr. Trump! May I just remind you, I am an honors graduate! A law student! A Promil child, if you must!

BHD: Well, now that you've mentioned it, despite your non-existent rack, I think you'd do well...

BBQ: See? I told you! I'm that brainy I know everything!

BHD: ...in The Apprentice.

James Yap dog-styles some chick

"Duh... uh... ngggguh... huhhhh..."

So right now in showbiz, the only thing louder than Kris Aquino's mouth is news that her basketball player husband, James Yap, cheated on her with some nurse named Hope. Okay, fine, pretend all you want that you don't give a shit about this bit of gossip, but do continue to read this post for its entertainment value, LOL.


Well, for one, take a look at this article about the issue; it's the funniest shit I've ever read after Sammy's interview and my most recent post.

"Sa pag-uusap nila ng Startalk host na si Lolit Solis at entertainment writer na si Gorgy Rula, nag-ala-Monica Lewinsky si Hope nang aminin nito na literal na 'nilunok' niya ang lahat sa tuwing nagkakaroon sila ni James ng physical contact.

Si Monica ang intern na nagkaroon noon ng relasyon kay former US President Bill Clinton at nagdetalye sa media ng oral sex act niya sa asawa ni former First Lady Hilary Clinton." -from PEP.ph

The story already got me at "nilunok," but the whole explanation about Monica Lewinsky was a real hoot. Oh, and here's the best part...

"Hindi malaman ni Lolit ang magiging reaksyon sa naging sagot ni Hope nang itanong niya kung paano nila nairaos ni James sa loob ng isang maliit na kuwarto ang kanilang makamundo na pagnanasa. Ang sagot ng straightforward at honest na si Hope? 'Dog-style po, Manay.'"

How Xerex the way they wrote it! But you know, honestly, I feel bad for Kris. After all the shit she's been through, this is just way too much considering she's pregnant. And she's Kris fucking Aquino. Aquino! So, James Yap, let it be known that you're a fucking douche. Off with your cock!



But since castration is such an icky thought to end this post with, here's my theory on why James prefers to "dog-style" Hope. Well, if you look like this:






Then, chances are, you have no other choice but to bang chicks this way:

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

Shitty flooring

Actual news, folks. And I must say, I'm not shitting you.

"DETROIT - Home-buyers of tomorrow could find themselves walking across floors made from manure. Researchers at Michigan State University and the U.S. Department of Agriculture insist it's no cow pie in the sky dream.

They say that fiber from processed and sterilized cow manure could take the place of sawdust in making fiberboard, which is used to make everything from furniture to flooring to store shelves." -GMANews.tv

Bhobby refused to admit it was he who farted

I don't know with you guys, but it's probably not so bad having processed cow dung as your flooring. I mean, I could have parquet out of shredded pages off Cosmo's 69 Bachelors supplement or a torn 24x30-inch poster of this photo...




...with Sam Milby's spunk and a couple of his pubes on them and I'd just be as grossed out.


And speaking of my favorite skeleton-in-the-closet person, have you seen this Sunday's Starweek?




And I quote the accompanying article:

"For our interview and photo shoot, Sam came prepared with several changes of clothes and a make-up kit. He knew exactly what kind of make-up should be used on him."

Gee, I wonder why!

Humping horses and stuff

Esteban wanted only one thing from Wind Blown

When I read about the new film about the man who died from shagging a horse, I laughed. And I was dying to know exactly how he fucked the poor animal. I mean, think of the possibilities. If you can't imagine it, then picture gay sex with someone with a printout of Black Beauty over his face. It could go either fucking way!


Of course I should've been more concerned about why he opted to screw an animal over a human—even a person who looks like a horse as long as he/she's got an actual human pee-pee. But sick person that I am and because I'm not bald Dr. Phil, I just had to be more interested in the lurid details. So, I Googled for horse porn and unfortunately, all I found was chicks eating horsecock (oh God, click that at your own risk; NSFW). No photos of men humping horses. And finding my ass (pun intended!) at a dead end not knowing anything more witty to say—which almost always means a retarded denouement—I resort to a Dr. Phil pretenduation (pretend + evaluation).


Society should not frown upon people who fuck animals (as long as it's consensual). It's not as bizarre as you think, as we encounter these kinds of people almost all the time:

Sex with rats:

Sex with anteaters:

Sex with roosters:




And on that note, might as well sex with chickens, too:




Sex with dogs:

Any other animals in mind?

Queso de bola = bribe

According to this article on posted Yahoo, "It may be the season to hand out presents but Philippines government workers have been ordered not to accept Christmas gifts in order to avoid any appearance of bribery."


Yeah, like government officials will once and for all stop parading their huge-ass SUVs on jampacked pothole-strewn highways—and worse, use policemen and their earwax-liquefying sirens to weasel their way out of traffic jams. Or people from the LTO's St. Clare's drug testing center will cease from offering an "easier way" to score your driver's license as you pee your warm pee on that little plastic cup. Or quite simply, that corruption in the Philippines will finally die a quick painless death if that father of four who works at the city hall doesn't receive the fucking queso de bola, ham, or even that fugly customary white mug he'll only rewrap to give to his officemate next year (by that time, it'll be a customary cream mug). Well, all I can really say is...

Raised collars

Manly, just manly.

I really don't understand why people—especially Filipino men—"tweak" their collars upward. I mean, hello? Is it that fucking cold here in tropical Philippines? If it is, can't you afford a freaking turtleneck shirt instead?


I dunno, maybe in the case of this guy right here, though, maybe he's just trying to hide a hickey—by Piolo or Uma, who knows?

Claim to fame

Ha! So, one of my posts made it to The Man Blog. And correct me if I'm wrong (too lazy to dig up their archives; couldn't even give a lame excuse that I'm too busy with work to back read the good guys' posts), but am I the first girl to ever have anything posted there? Am I? Am I?!


I'm so the man. I'M SO FUCKING THE MAN!


And as a thank you to the good editors of The Man Blog, here's a shameless plug of their site...





...so that a staggering six or so of my regular readers (okay, minus one Man Blog editor) would find it in their hearts to compromise their morals and visit the site.


+


Thanks to Ade for the heads-up.

Match.com rocks!

Oh my God. Match.com is the shiznit! A co-worker told me that one of our bosses’ profile was up on the site and since it was reeking of blackmail potential, I was dying to check it out using my office computer during office hours with the risk of him seeing me gawking at his profile. Unfortunately, I never found it. However, fortunately (or was it unfortunately?), I stumbled upon other gems that were apt for a Halloween post.


Mumu No. 1: “Im a simple kind of person, i dont look much on how people see you in your outside look or even your age ...all i need is a gurl who love to be with me anytime and fun to be with...Just try seing me.”

But what he actually meant was: “I love seeing my nipples poke through the sheer material of my black sando. My pastimes include pouring bottled water down my chest, getting high on the smell of pomade, and singing psalms to a photo of Jinggoy Estrada.”

Mumu No. 2: “THIS IS WHAT I LIKE........... SPORTS, SURFING THE NET, COOKING, CHATING, MEETING FRIENDS SPECIALY GIRLS. I STAND 5'6 HIGH, BROWN EYES MORENO HHAHAHAHAH. I LIKE COMPUTERS, MUSIC(RnB., ROCK, OPM)”

But what he actually meant was: “That thing on my head? I wear that as a tube top when mama’s not looking. I used to masturbate to the Universal Motion Dancers and the Streetboys dancing on Eat Bulaga. Now I get off to Hale.”

Mumu No. 3: “Nastyrattlesnake here! I'm looking for a woman who's got a great sense of humor and got ‘all that’. Think you're the one?? Feel free to hit me up if you got what it takes.”

But what he actually meant was: “I hope my cheap camo hat and 30-peso sunglasses will distract people from seeing my double-chin. I also belong to the church of Jinggoy.”

Mumu No. 4: “I am not that good in looks but I'm definitely true inside with clean soul. It's not the good looks but how handling itself. Better with good sense of humor and can perform balancing and handling situations…”

But what he actually meant was: “I’ve never seen a vagina in my entire life.”

Mumu No. 5: “i'm 5'7... i have straight black hair.. my best features for me is my eyes i think. my style of clothing is modern or anything that makes me comfortable.”

But what he actually meant was: “I am Jinggoy’s evil twin.”

Career death by DSL

Much has been said about the infamous PLDT DSL customer service agent that has made the brand name PLDT DSL worse than it already is. Of course I couldn't allow such a thing to go undissed. It's just so bad that it's too good to pass up.

But first, a comment from YouTube, where audio of the call was posted:

"[Username of person who uploaded the clip] SHOW UR ARE JUST INSECURE. You look for any target that is lower then you and you MAKE FUN OF THEM. That is what you do. Because I don't find your videos at ALL FUNNY. SO yes. After living the good life you take the joy by dissing your people who aren't living better then you to make you feel BETTER."

What the fuck?! Typos are understandable, but mangled grammar is just so wrong. Actually, you can't just make fun of people's grammar—unless these people make themselves easy targets by oh, I don't know, broadcasting how dreadful their English is by posting it on the Internet for all the freaking world to see. Why, oh why not just speak in Filipino instead?

Anyway, I digress (thanks to the distraction brought about by such distorted English). I don't know why people feel bad for the dumbass agent, because one thing's for sure: It's her fault. She obviously cursed at the customer and even had the gall to deny to high heavens that she ever did. Fucking liar. In fact, the customer wasn't even one you could consider a customer from hell. I have friends from call centers and trust me, there are far worse callers than that DSL guy. If anything, the little bitch is the customer service agent from hell.

Yes, her customer service skills were borne out of the (arm)pits of hell. What kind of call center agent would tell her caller, "Putang ina mo rin, ba't ka nagmumura? Wala akong magagawa kung..."—unprovoked? Defenders/friends/family/dumbass bitch herself would probably say that she probably just cracked under immense pressure. Wow, stress. To think it wasn't even 9AM yet. And please, if all call center agents snapped because of the demands of their work, then more than three-fourths of all call center companies in the Philippines would close down because of mass layoffs. It's Mini Stop's and 7-11's worst nightmare.

And when the little scoundrel started crying, that was such a classic. Sympathizers probably had the urge to run to her to comfort her. For crying out loud, I can't believe some people even comment that she's got a cute voice. Haven't these people ever encountered call center agents flaunting their newfound American accents in public? Those people sound cuter. Annoying, but at least not ugly- or low self-esteem-sounding.

Anywhow, as for everyone else (ergo, those with functioning wits), that crying episode was such a "good riddance" moment. Think of it this way: If you were that bitch, would you have done the same thing? Admit it, you wouldn't even resort to doing half the boo-boos that she committed during that call. If you were the caller, though, personally, I could've done worse that she would've cried her pathetic guts out more while having that sick urge in her stomach to throw herself in front of a speeding G-Liner. Or at least to never apply for a call center job ever again.

So, the moral of the story is: Don't be an idiot. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that there's this little thing called the mute button.