Super Massive Timewarp

Listen, I don’t know exactly how it happened, but somehow, I think there’s some strange discontinuity and irregularity going on in the reality I move in. We’re talking weird, crazy ass Twilight zone-type shit here people.

This morning, I woke up in a residential condo unit in the Pasig area next to a woman whom I later identified as Maffy, my best friend/love of my life who I publicly announced my engagement to a couple of months ago–or was it? I honestly don’t know. If you ask me what the date is, I’d say it’s mid October, 2009 because that’s what it feels like and apparently, that’s about the last time I was cognizant of anything.

Between then and now, I have no recollection whatsoever of what happened to me. I have vague, fragmented memories that, when pieced together, does not form a cohesive story, let alone one that makes sense. Let me run these memories by you guys and hopefully, you can help me make sense of them:

Memory fragment 1: I’m married?!

This really doesn’t come much of a surprise to me as I know for a fact that I am engaged before I fell into the entire time warp shit I was in. But, it appears that I’ve now been married for three months. I found this photo while rummaging through iPhoto:

Based on this picture, the following people were in my wedding:

I’m pretty sure I invited Pau to my wedding and even considered making him one of my secondary sponsors but, according to this picture, he didn’t make it. This is probably due to the long-standing family feud between my family and his that stemmed from a disputed hectare of land in Pangasinan. So Pau, I just want to say that it’s cool and, morally, you are obliged to share all the gold you find in that land seeing that I found it remember? During that time you and I were playing hide and seek with my lesbian leprechaun friend named Vangie? Okay?

I’m pretty sure I invited Marc too as I was considering him to be one of my groom’s men. I better find out what happened there. In fact, I better check and see if I even have a job.

So yeah, that’s totally boss and crazy weird at the same time. Boss because it feels like I didn’t have to go through all the stress usually associated with wedd–hold on, I think another memory is popping up…

Memory fragment 2: The 10% rule is bullshit

This is not so much a memory as it is knowledge. For some reason, I now know that when anyone says that 10% of the guests you invite to your wedding are not gonna show up, they don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. I remember inviting 150 guests with the 10% rule in mind when the wife and I were doing the final reservation with the caterer and we ended up with 160 people attending the reception.

Don’t get me wrong, this turnout is great and I appreciate all your support, but the question that begs to be answered is: How can we have 110 people attending the actual ceremony and host 160 people in the reception? Where the fuck were the rest of you guys during the wedding ceremony? Come on!

Memory Fragment 3: I can now speak/write russian

Пища, с которой многие дорогие и лучше, чем мастурбация

Memory fragment 4: resourcefulness under duress

Because of the snafu caused by believing the 10% rule, I now know that some people will eat anything regardless of how questionable. So yeah, if the food you ate on my wedding tasted like shredded Chicken Joy topped with copious amounts of Karo Syrup and cigarette ash, that’s probably because it is. I had to have food delivered because some of you don’t know how to RSVP.

Memory fragment 5: Women (especially if they’re your wife) want you to lift the toilet seat when you take a piss but don’t want you to leave it up because, apparently, there are germs on the toilet seat so they can’t touch it but you, being a man and immune to germs, can.

I would expound on this memory if it weren’t too soon (got in a fight with the wife earlier about this one). But hey! The good news is that I’m back! And it looks like even if I blacked out or whatever, it looks like I am living an okay life. For the most part. I don’t see the point in going back in time to reliv–

thirty, flirty and thriving…thirty, flirty and thriving…thirty, flirty and thriving….thirty, flirty and thriving… WORK DAMMIT!

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