afternoons are a bitch, especially because of the unmerciful heat. what sucks more is that my own room seems to be the hottest, most humid place in the house, even with all sorts of ventilation turned on, compared to the other rooms where for some reason a mild cool breeze blows constantly. i seriously need to get a stronger AC.
in the meantime, summer's almost over and i'm still sober. ang labo.
must...have...beer. i promise i will drink moderately. (ASA PA)
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this is a picture of the 2006 honda civic's interior:
and a closer look at the dashboard, with the fucking badass digital gauges:
gaddemmet. i want.
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this is the iPod meme that's been going around since before pa:
iPod on shuffle.
What do you think of me, iPod?
the 5th dimension, "one less bell to answer"
Will I have a happy life?
cream, "sunshine of your love"
What do my friends really think of me?
chicago, "if you leave me now"
Do people secretly lust after me?
stevie wonder, "all in love is fair"
How can I make myself happy?
sound, "improvise" (true! true!)
What should I do with my life?
hues corporation, "i got caught dancing again"
Why must life be so full of pain?
david benoit, "take a look inside my heart"
Will I die happy?
rage against the machine, "fistful of steel"
Can you give me some advice?
earl klugh, "you should know by now" (hahaha)
What do you think happiness is?
queen, "under pressure"
What's my favorite fetish?
coheed and cambria, "hearshot kid disaster"
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i just learned that katharine mcphee is left-handed too.
i can die now.
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letter meme from
bluepunch Comment on this entry and I will give you a letter. Write ten words beginning with that letter in your journal, including an explanation what the word means to you and why, and then pass out letters to those who want to play along.
A - as in the elusive letter grade. i remember getting only three of these as final marks in college. hahaha. one of them was a 1-unit lab.
Admiration - most of what i've written deals with this issue. the sad part is, i'm still trying to break away from it. speaking of, i've forgotten about writing these past few months, and i don't know why. i kinda lost my mojo since diverting my attention to work and guitar playing. haay.
Andy Warhol - the innovator. the visionary, the quintessential pop art icon of the 1960s and one time manager of the velvet underground, one of the most kickass bands ever made. i remember my fourth year high school art teacher, sir quay (ateneo high people remember him as the hip guy who has a huge "Q" pendant) introducing us to pop art and i got hooked on it since.
Arthur - my first name, taken from the dudley moore movie of the same title. i never got to catch the movie, but i did like the theme song, the one with "when you get caught between the moon and new york city" when i was a kid.
Amelie - one of the best foreign films ever made. nuff said.
Antonio Carlos Jobim - the creator and master of bossa nova, whose guitar and piano skills are unmatched.
American Idol - my current TV addiction. i never got to catch seasons 1 and 2, season 3 i was able to catch the final six shows since all of us in the states that time were rooting for jasmine trias, the lone filipina in the final 6 (and i was able to text in about five votes hahaha). season 4 came, i watched every now and then and was lucky enough to catch constantine maroulis and his bohemian rhapsody which by far is the greatest performance on idol EVER. now, i am an avid follower of season 5 because of a lingering sickness called mcpheever. :p
Alfred "Krip" Yuson - one of the most influential writers of philippine poetry in english who was my teacher in the fiction writing workshop (LIT136). he's one of the few teachers whom i consider as mentors.
Alliteration - one of the simplest figures of speech which i still always find aesthetically pleasing.
Abraxas - one of santana's 2 best albums ever (the other one being the debut self-titled album) which contains "black magic woman" and "oye como va".
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Ghosts
Patricia Spears Jones
He was filled with beauty, so filled that he could not stop the shadows
from their walk around his horn, blasting cobwebs in the Fillmore's ceiling
Somewhere dawn makes up for the night before, but he is floating.
Dead in the water. And yet, my lover tells me, he saw him shimmering.
As did others. It could have been the acid. Or fragmented harmonics.
His reed ancestral. This perilous knowledge. The band went home,
shivering. A girl threw roses in the water. Carnations, daisies. And bright red
sashes.
Like ones the Chinese use for funeral banners. A drummer intoned chants
from the Orient. Police wrote up the news. Years later, my lover told me
Friends would hear the whisper, then a tone, full throttle from the wind.
Ghosts on Second Avenue, jazzmen in the falling stars.
If you catch one, your hands will glitter.