I would like to make an announcement. It’s done. I have found and purchased a new condominium unit and ladies and gentlemen, after three years, Mike “Fucking” Villar is coming back to Pasig City.

So, Sari-sari stores you better hide your Emperadors and parents, you better make sure that you lock up your daughters at night because in a couple of months’ time, Mike Villar will march down your streets beating my war drums like a proud orc army (and probably eating Tuna Kariman. I don’t know) and he. will. fucking. BRING IT.

In a couple of months’ time, I shall bid the familiar comfort and quasi-suburbness of Fairview. No more three hour drives to and from work, no more Bisayas stinking up the entire street with their weird-ass fish stew, no more douchebags cutting my sleep short by revving up their penis-compensating, souped up Honda XRMs, and no more fistfights with members of the Dashboard Confessional Emo Club Maligaya chapter who clog up the aisles over at SM Fairview.

Yes, in a couple of months’ time, everything will be better.

I know, don’t tell me – Pasig is not exactly as hip as this asshole’s Eastwood condo or this asshole’s Alabang estate, but guess what? I can actually walk from my future Pasig home to where I work in less than ten minutes.

But yeah, since I’m, as usual, high on Siomai as I write this, I’m getting pretty ahead of myself. Let me tell you the how and more importantly the why of how I came about taking a blind plunge towards certain bankruptcy by deciding to buy something I cannot possibly afford.

Last year, I wrote about wanting to get my own place somewhere around the Ortigas Business District. I cannot express enough how incredibly frustrating this endeavor proved to be. In fact, it was so frustrating that I think that aside from Cancer, being cheated on by your girlfriend with 50 cent or getting punched in the balls by Chuck Liddell, I can not think of anything worse.

The thing with Ortigas, and Makati and The Fort for this matter is everyone, and I mean everyone wants to live there. Every urban asshole who earns more than 40 grand a month and has a predilection to overspend scopes out these areas for a place to live. So, as a potential buyer you have to keep in mind that if you’re checking out condos in these areas and get around to liking one of them, you absolutely have no time to be irresolute.

You could be looking at a nice 2 bedroom place in the morning, contemplating on whether or not you could afford it over lunch, call the real estate agent and say that you’re going to go ahead and give a down payment only to find out that another person bought it only a couple of minutes prior.

It’s either that or get a place with an 8×8 excuse for a kitchen, two small bedrooms and a bathroom you cannot possibly be comfortable taking a shower in for a really affordable price of six million pesos!

Anyway, I will not bore you with details of how I came about finding, falling inlove and eventually scrounging tens and thousands of pesos from my parents and hunting a couple of people who owe me down to “collect” to pay the down payment for my place. (Of course, I am not keeping myself from boring you because I care for you or something, it’s just that looking back and remembering certain parts of this experience sends me into some sort of Satanic trance that invariably ends in me cutting myself.

But I’ll tell you what I can’t get over–my future house will have a sizable living area, one “master’s bed room” (for my future wife and I), one guest room (for me, when my future wife discovers I blew all our savings on gambling and a few bad investments that involve human trafficking) and a nice balcony that overlooks a clubhouse and a pool.

I also can’t get over the fact that it’s so close to everything I care about! (Well it’s far from my parents but I love them. By default.) This means that I can probably cut my monthly gasoline expenditure (which is around 10,000 pesos) by more than half! This means I’m going to have enough disposable income to do hard drugs again! Yay!

I’ve looked hard but up to now, I am having difficulty finding a single thing to hate about all of this. Of course, this is usually the case for every bad decision I’ve made in my life.

So you know, don’t be surprised if I write a blog entry entitled “I absolutely love my new place!” followed by another one entitled “Pasig sucks donkey cock” concluded by “Mike Villar’s guide to murdering your Bisaya neighbors. P.S. I’m in jail, send help” sometime soon.

But until then, I think I did myself a solid here. In fact, I can already see myself frequenting the eateries across the street and being great buddies with the waiters who would call me “Babette the Destroyer” as some sort of private joke.

And who knows? Maybe my girlfriend and I will eventually get married despite her father hating my guts because of that time I got high on meth, did like 500 push ups infront of him and screamed “Can you fucking believe how physically fit I am?” and I think he punched me or something.

I don’t remember.

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