Hello, Lovine.com

yummy butterfly soup! honking peacocks! stolen daffodils and caterpillar eggs! chalk one up for awesome possum weekends! :D

i gained six pounds this weekend. but i suspect, that i'll unload a real big one tomorrow morning.

that'll be a story to tell. the tale of the six-pounder!

back in the audit room. ready for war. the early bird gets the worm! but when the bird dies it rots and the other worms will exact revenge. which brings me to my point- that i have none whatsoever.

i'm just about to leave work. for a few simple tasks that i figure shouldn't take an exorbitant amount of time, i'm still baffled at the complexity of the process. am i delving into too much detail? am i not properly allocating my time to the important tasks at hand? oh, boy. can't wait for the weekend...

my eyelids are heavy with promises of 8-hour slumber, from a long restless day of daydreaming what remains outside each moment's sphere of consciousness. clouds roll by languidly across the bent horizon, while the rest of the world is entrapped with unrelentless bouts of trivial pursuit. earning more money, spending more money, flexing your muscle across the rat race landscape. for those that have lost touch of who they are, will the freedom of sleep give meaning to their lives?

i haven't been writing as much lately. what bothers me is the lack of introspect that i've managed to muster, and the recurring themes of pimp-my-hamster-wheel and general romanticism with the freedom of living your life doused with music, good photography, and people that you really care about. yet the cogs keep the wheel turning, allowing you to surrender your freedoms as far as you'd define it to be. yet ironically, we all eventually acquiesce to sleep. and what happens... is a mystery. anything you could muster it to be.

perhaps it's no wonder that you close your eyes when you kiss, that you close your eyes to imagine.. that you close your eyes to dream. perhaps none of this is a wonder, after all.

just remember to close your eyes.

i am in dire need to drop off the kids, but the only pool i'd go to is the one at my house. and that's an hour and a half drive. caveats of falling in love with the bidet..

i just farted and it smells like korean bbq.

i've never seen so much meat in my life.. except when i was in brasil.

moo!

   partner in crime, yo. :)

los angeles is home to the worst traffic i will ever encounter in my short life. not only because of the gridlock that commands a big chunk of the useful day, but because of the pricks and assholes that populate it.

so i'm stuck in 101 traffic, and this asshat starts honking from behind me like a true asshole. i calmly glance over the rear view to see what his problem is, and shrug my shoulder - there's a three or four car space in front of me while the rest of traffic is inching forward. we ain't going anywhere. now the middle aged retard is my ass, trying to cut through and still leaning on his horn. so naturally, i give him the courtesy finger for a couple of seconds, before speeding up to close the gap in front of me. LA traffic is a joke, i chuckle on the phone to my mexican friend rudy lopez (who has an uncanny semblance to pedro of napoleon dynamite fame).

when a lane opens up to the side, the retard scrambles over, rolls down his window and hollers "fuck you!". what? what the hell is your problem. so i scoot over to his lane, get on his ass, and stick my finger out the window. i follow him to exit, he turns left and i turn left, with me still flipping him off because he's a retard. the side streets are still gnarled with traffic, as he rolls down his window and starts yakking "fuck you! fuck you!" again. "what the hell is your problem?!" "you messed me up! fuck you!" whatever man. so i scream back "fuck you, you fat fuck! you're an old fag!" as the idiot rolls up his window. he tries to make a left on a non discreet corner to get rid of me i presume, and so i jump over to his other side, slow down and give him a nice fat finger (but not as fat as he is) while he screams another FU.

settle down, LA. on a better day, i would've thrown change at your kia.

i'm rotting. help. stuck. in. cube.

what keeps your dreams up at night?

maybe the trick is to be adept at your trade, such that work classified as good turns into the ordinary, transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary greatness that we could all be destined for.

i'm sick with a 101°F fever. and i find the prospects that hope is just a little bit beyond the horizon for keeps when you allow yourself to close your eyes and dream against the nocturne shimmer of sleep.

i'm stuck at the airport with a flight that should've left more than 16 hours ago. it tried to take-off twice, but both times stopped in the middle of the runway because of engine trouble. rescheduled for 10am, it got pushed back further to 4pm since they had to change the plane completely.

and now the mabuhay lounge is packed to the brim, and i'm strategically positioned beside a wastecan and the bathroom sitting on the cold tile floor. not that i'm throwing a pity party, but all i really want is a nice warm shower and clean clothes since everything's packed and checked in. an extended vacation from work would be nice, but this is kinda pushing it.

the food used to be good, but hour after hour after hour is a tad too much. if i stay here any longer, i'm going to throw up philippine airlines mabuhay lounge arroz caldo.

happy new year guys :)