when it rains, it pours
So, we're not getting any younger, right? Which is really just an easier way to say the converse. Yesterday I was thinking, why do this case for BA 101 when it pales in the light of my mortality (besides, there's always tomorrow morning)? Instead of busying myself with BA subjects, I decided to ask myself: How would I divide my assets once I... liquidate?
This mental exercise excited me for around ten seconds. It took me that long to realize that I don't have very much, at least in terms of what other people would want. I could make a case for my Kyle pillow, but then I'm less than willing to part with him, even in death. So then I decided to make a less realistic will and testament, which I happen to know is not weird, given that at least half of my friends already have their funerals planned out and have it their heads to play "Highway to Hell" or "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" during said occasion. With that said, allow me to share the partial list of things I'd be leaving to you after I meet my demise, were it only in my power.
To Aurora: Two Japanese men--one wee and dark-haired, the other an anonymous alcoholic--with a legitimately heterosexual friendship. They will readily don their couch costumes and sing their "Fray! Fray!" song whenever the occasion calls for it.
To Bi: If you're interested, you may avail of 天野喜孝's--whose birthday is in three days, by the way--skills via a l33t coloring pencil or a quill or something of the sort, ala Space Jam.
To Buta: The recipe to KFC chicken, as well as full ownership to the farms and/or laboratories--whatever the case may be--responsible for breeding Hot Shots. For your sake, I hope it's all about the mutant poultry. Bird flu and all, you know?
To Candice: I thought about this long and hard. Bowel movement.
To Debsoc: Residency, preferably in the SE Audi, for at least 6 more years. I assume we'll all have graduated by then, though I know better than to make promises on my part. Additionally, I would like everyone to receive the ADS-specific pheromone that drives adjudicators crazy.
To Greta: Legalization of plural same-sex marriages in the Philippines, socially acceptable to the extent that Mrs. Borja herself will attend all thirty-two weddings.
To Joey: You can tell your mom that it was a gift, you can't refuse those.
To John: For no reason I myself am aware of, you get the sponsorship of eight out of nine Greek muses. No wangst muse for you.
To KAPE: The title of "sole overseer of Oceania" shall go to one of you, preferably either Drea or Loh, as Prit and I have Eurasia covered. (Never mind that I'm supposed to be dead, this is a fantasy will, anyway.) We'll decide what to do about Africa later on.
To Kath & Tina: You shall have... lives? Er. How about a time traveling device that allows your other parallel universe selves to exist simultaneously in one universe, under the assumption that those other Tinas and Katherines don't end up creating a divergent-- Ah, screw it. Lives. That's what you two get. Lives.
To the Ateneans: Everything else, because whenever I think "eagle," I think "deus ex machina" from that third Lord of the Rings movie. Alternatively, I would like to grant you any and all superpowers or WMD's required of you to actualize whatever bloodthirsty fantasies you have involving the Ateneo. To the person who doesn't find that appealing, I would like to grant you an improved set of standards. (Kidding, kidding! Please don't flog me. Besides, jokes are only half-meant. Um. Don't beat me up. Really. What Would the Jesuits Do?) Forgive me, this one's the hardest. OK, I know! Third time's the charm. You guys get to end up with class schedules chock-full of Sir Dave. Cool? Cool.
To the Jewsters: Shiitake mushrooms, not only out of respect for our late Super Mario Brothers rip-off, but also because they're the Castlevania equivalent of tonics and potions. We need the energy exclusively derived from shiitake mushrooms to dominate our respective schools. It's bound happen, of course. It's the only reason why we were rationed out to different parts of the world/Metro Manila.
To the VP's: Self-replenishing liver-donating machines. To supplement this, non-threatening facial hair for Carlo to age him up, but not at the expense of looking like Edmond Dantes at the Chateau d'If. (I was going to say something about the Abu Sayyaf, but I have to cut back on the terrorist allusions despite the fact that it's just so easy to go there.)
This mental exercise excited me for around ten seconds. It took me that long to realize that I don't have very much, at least in terms of what other people would want. I could make a case for my Kyle pillow, but then I'm less than willing to part with him, even in death. So then I decided to make a less realistic will and testament, which I happen to know is not weird, given that at least half of my friends already have their funerals planned out and have it their heads to play "Highway to Hell" or "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" during said occasion. With that said, allow me to share the partial list of things I'd be leaving to you after I meet my demise, were it only in my power.
To Aurora: Two Japanese men--one wee and dark-haired, the other an anonymous alcoholic--with a legitimately heterosexual friendship. They will readily don their couch costumes and sing their "Fray! Fray!" song whenever the occasion calls for it.
To Bi: If you're interested, you may avail of 天野喜孝's--whose birthday is in three days, by the way--skills via a l33t coloring pencil or a quill or something of the sort, ala Space Jam.
To Buta: The recipe to KFC chicken, as well as full ownership to the farms and/or laboratories--whatever the case may be--responsible for breeding Hot Shots. For your sake, I hope it's all about the mutant poultry. Bird flu and all, you know?
To Candice: I thought about this long and hard. Bowel movement.
To Debsoc: Residency, preferably in the SE Audi, for at least 6 more years. I assume we'll all have graduated by then, though I know better than to make promises on my part. Additionally, I would like everyone to receive the ADS-specific pheromone that drives adjudicators crazy.
To Greta: Legalization of plural same-sex marriages in the Philippines, socially acceptable to the extent that Mrs. Borja herself will attend all thirty-two weddings.
To Joey: You can tell your mom that it was a gift, you can't refuse those.
To John: For no reason I myself am aware of, you get the sponsorship of eight out of nine Greek muses. No wangst muse for you.
To KAPE: The title of "sole overseer of Oceania" shall go to one of you, preferably either Drea or Loh, as Prit and I have Eurasia covered. (Never mind that I'm supposed to be dead, this is a fantasy will, anyway.) We'll decide what to do about Africa later on.
To Kath & Tina: You shall have... lives? Er. How about a time traveling device that allows your other parallel universe selves to exist simultaneously in one universe, under the assumption that those other Tinas and Katherines don't end up creating a divergent-- Ah, screw it. Lives. That's what you two get. Lives.
To the Ateneans: Everything else, because whenever I think "eagle," I think "deus ex machina" from that third Lord of the Rings movie. Alternatively, I would like to grant you any and all superpowers or WMD's required of you to actualize whatever bloodthirsty fantasies you have involving the Ateneo. To the person who doesn't find that appealing, I would like to grant you an improved set of standards. (Kidding, kidding! Please don't flog me. Besides, jokes are only half-meant. Um. Don't beat me up. Really. What Would the Jesuits Do?) Forgive me, this one's the hardest. OK, I know! Third time's the charm. You guys get to end up with class schedules chock-full of Sir Dave. Cool? Cool.
To the Jewsters: Shiitake mushrooms, not only out of respect for our late Super Mario Brothers rip-off, but also because they're the Castlevania equivalent of tonics and potions. We need the energy exclusively derived from shiitake mushrooms to dominate our respective schools. It's bound happen, of course. It's the only reason why we were rationed out to different parts of the world/Metro Manila.
To the VP's: Self-replenishing liver-donating machines. To supplement this, non-threatening facial hair for Carlo to age him up, but not at the expense of looking like Edmond Dantes at the Chateau d'If. (I was going to say something about the Abu Sayyaf, but I have to cut back on the terrorist allusions despite the fact that it's just so easy to go there.)