Plane Phobiatitis. Pills.

Earlier, during my semi-annual visit to my psychiatrist to sort of give her an update on my perennial, downhill battle with depression and a weird anxiety disorder; I realized something: The little phobia associated with airplanes and flying I developed when I visited Bicol several months ago just became a full-blown clusterfuck of obsessive fear and dread.

See, my company is sending me over to attend The Affiliate Summit in New York  and, for some reason, I’m certain that I will die a fiery, horrible death during the flight.

Now, this fear might have something to do with my anxiety and panic disorder but I’m also willing to bet that this is what happens when you’ve let yourself go as much as I did and list your favorite past time as chowing down around twenty hot dogs and chasing them down with a liter of Gran Matador with your drunk friends every other night.

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The Star Mart Girl

Because I live like 400 miles away from civilization and have a bladder of an infant, everyday, I routinely have these gasoline station/convenience store pit stops on my way to work to both empty my bladder and grab a cold beverage or a light snack.

The usual place I do all of these is a Caltex Star Mart on C5 (Yes; if you really want to catch me, I mean to collect on my debts to you or what not, I’m the grumpy guy who usually grabs a C2 Green and pesters the attendant to put “more motherfucking mustard” on my German frank around 11am everyday) And, almost every day, I usually see a girl on one of the little coffee tables they have on the store with her laptop in front of her sipping a small cup of latte.

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The people you meet in Twitter and Plurk

As a veteran blogger who finds the luster of blogging less and less appealing with each day that passes, I submit to the fact that microblogging services such as Twitter and Plurk could very well be the last form of un-moderated avenues of self-expression in the swathe of services web 2.0 brought upon us.

Without an authoritarian, normative system of quality control in place like that of the blogosphere’s, a microblogging personality is allowed to flutter about in spaces wherever his deluded brain would take him.

Microblogging personalities, as I see them, is much like the offspring of two celebrities–they are beautifully unmoderated, and are allowed to say anything without being afraid of criticism or reprisal.

So, are you ready to transition into a brainless fame only people who live uninteresting lives like you deserve? Are you interested in enlisting yourself into the cadre of new media hippies who garner less respect than bloggers? Well allow me to hold your hand with a guide specifically structured to send you on your first glorious steps towards polluting the internet with your asininity 140 characters at a time!

Do you want to be…

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