Rockafella

I'm still trying to forget the big humiliation I've had last Sunday evening at the TSBU (Technical Support Business Unit) gothic rock party in Clamshell, Intramuros. In my greatest desire to fit my attire with the theme in order to camouflage myself with the huge crowd, I was still recognized.

While my name was being called by those barriotic and undeniably horrible-looking emcees, I was already thinking of walking out, tenderring my immediate resignation and trying to forget everything. But since professionalism still filled my soul, I TRIED not to look like I'm pissed with the event's stupid idea of having us catwalk on that musical instrument-crowded stage. Just imagining a scoliotic bald scarecrow in his sleeveless black polo, fatigue cargo shorts, black Chuck Taylor and red necktie with eyelids darkened with smudged eyeliner walking on that small stage makes me think of cutting my webbed fingers to my death.

I'm thinking of resigning before I could see myself in another barriotic TV program called eTV. Help! Mother of Forgetfulness, have mercy on me.

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I'm thinking of changing my URL again. I'll find ways on how I could inform you guys about the change. But sooner or later I'm going to do that. Just to give myself some privacy.