The great underwear dilemma

I am not a very big fan of briefs. I mean, I do not see anything wrong with wearing them it’s just that, and any of my ex girlfriends (or the “sex professionals” whose services I availed) can attest to this, I look abhorrently worse than I really am in them.

I do wear them sometimes and they kinda do feel comfortable (If you’re working and haven’t yet tried tucking your shirt in your briefs and putting your pants on just high enough for your briefs’ Bench waistband to stick out, you sir, do not belong in the corporate world. You belong in prison). But the sad fact is that somebody as fat as I am should not have any business rocking briefs.

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Hello Sir Have a Nice Day. Oh btw, Please stop being fat

Disclaimer: I myself am fat. The sentiments enclosed in the story below are aimed to those who are really fucking fat. And when I say really fucking fat, I mean those who look like they can die at any time and those who are like over 200 lbs. (I’m at 192. So yeah.)

Everyday, after I sign off from work, I usually do this convenience store sortie thing where I indulge myself in the pleasure of consuming fatty pre-packaged delights which contain no nutritional value whatsoever. If you’re the littlest bit familiar with the Philippines, you’d know that most major gasoline stations in the Philippines are built with their own branded convenience stores. If not, then LOL YOUR FACE BECAUSE YOU SUCK!

Anyway, last night found me paying for a large Jiminy Pizza, Iced Coffee and Cadbury milk bar in the Caltex Star Mart along C5. In front of me were two really fucking fat guys whom I assumed to be father and son because not only are they both really fucking fat, they also looked alike.

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The Philippine Internet Marketing Boot Camp

Last Saturday, I talked about Affiliate Marketing (Surprise! I can talk about stuff besides penis and fat jokes) on the first day of the Philippine Internet Marketing Bootcamp. Surprisingly enough, my presentation went well and was pretty uneventful save for a couple of slurred words and my general incoherence which are pretty normal for me when I talk about shit I don’t really understand or when I’m outright shooting crap (my girlfriend and ex-girlfriends could attest to this).

I could even go ahead and say that if that event had an ass, I probably went crazy on it and kicked the shit out of it.

Anyway, it was nice to see Noemi, Lauren, Dine, Jedi, Sasha, Eugene and Abe among other people during the Boot Camp. There will be another session on Saturday, January 26th at 8am so drop whatever it is that you’re doing and request for an invite NOW.

(If you go, I’ll sign an autograph for you and, if my schedule permits it, I’ll even host your monggoloid son’s birthday party. Whatever. Just go. Please.)

The Picking Up Women Series: STARBUCKS

Is your life a hellish vacuum? Are the milestones of your charmless, inhospitable existence limited only to mentally distressed nocturnal screams of heartache? Is your longing for female companionship so desperate that even cockroaches are creeped out by your excessive emotional obsession to finding a partner and proceed to call you “pervfuck” while you sleep?

Well fret not, because I am here to give you more useless tips to help you claw your way out of your terrible hellscape of depression!

“But Mikey!” You might say in your annoying, high-pitched voice, “You and your colleagues have already written a lot about picking up women! And I go to Nepa Q-Mart about once a month to buy vegetables and yet I can’t seem to pick up women!”

Well my friend, SHUTUP YOUR FACE! SHUTUP YOUR FACE AND LISTEN! because I am going to show you how to pick up women in a really popular dating hotspot! And by ‘hotspot’ I don’t mean that weird tropical STD  I contracted in the summer of 97 but rather…

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BoLOL Recap

First of all, let me go on record that writing about vacations is really not my favorite thing to do. This is largely because 1.) I don’t want to bore you guys to shit by writing daily play by plays like “On my first day in Bohol…On my second day in Bohol…On my third day in Bohol…” because really, only boring-ass newbie bloggers do that and 2.) I’m lazy. So yeah.

Besides, my vacation is one big soup bowl of being drunk, being hung-over, gluttony and sunburn so there’s really not much I can write about. I will, however, try to write a mildly amusing, easily digestible summary for you:

Airports and Lines.

It’s been a long time since I last flew a domestic flight and, much to my surprise, long lines which I previously believed to be exclusive to Somalian food distribution lines and UN Malaria-vaccination missions also exist in Philippine airports.

Honestly, I don’t mind the wait. After all, I had my girlfriend with me and that fact makes the wait bearable. Also, the bottle of rum I imbibed the night before our flight made sure that all cognizant thought, sense of time and my manners were wiped clean from my brain.

This also meant that I was only capable of standing and moving through the line with the help of  metal barricades and basically spent most of the wait looking down women’s blouses and heinies. Not too nice.

Hot Young European Chick (HYEC)

Dear Cheryl,

I don’t know if you remember me. But we stood together waiting for our luggage over at the Tagbilaran Airport.  You also might not remember giving me your name and that’s because you didn’t. I looked at your luggage card and wrote your name down on a piece of paper. I hope you do not find this creepy because I did all this because of passion. A passion that comes from deep inside (my loins).

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how beautiful I think you are and how you should consider flying to Manila to live with me or at least let me photograph you wearing my underwear.

The only qualm I have with all of this is that you look like and probably are 13 years old. If this is the case, let it go on record that I am only joking about taking pictures of you in my underwear. As we all know, that is illegal and if you’ve been reading my blog long enough, you’d know that Mike “Fucking” Villar absolutely respects the law.

So Cheryl, good luck with Algebra. I know it could be ball numbingly hard at times but if you study those formulas hard enough, you’ll pass. I know did.

Love,
Mikey

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