Sometimes I overdo this humor thing
Allow me to illustrate: Last night, I was having dinner with my company’s CEO along with 30 some odd managers from different departments. So the CEO was going from table to table talking to everybody and, when he reached the table where I and the company’s marketing managers were, the arbitrary topic of discussion was “shit you were into when you were young.”
Since he was a pretty cool guy, everybody was shooting the shit with him and telling him stuff from “drawing” to “building shit with lego blocks”, I, on the other hand was frantically trying to think of something to say that jumps out of the page whenever he looks back at all the people he met in Manila, contemplating on who to promote.
I was thinking along the lines of “Business Analysis” and “Requirements Elicitation” even though I knew that saying those would be the grand douchebag thing to do.
So, I decided to resort to something I thought I was good at–telling jokes.
“Well” I said. “I was really into dolls growing up.” [mimicking playing with a doll. Moving imaginary appendages with my fingers.]
Dolls?
Really Mike?
Dolls?
Mike Villar: Now Healthy as a battleship!
Okay, so I think I might’ve suffered a mild stroke early last week and because I think, that after the terrible bouts of depression and intense episodes of panic attacks I went through almost two years ago, I developed some form of hypochondria or cyberchondria, I’ve been seeing my doctor a lot lately.
When I learned that my doctor was opening up a clinic in a nearby teaching hospital, I almost felt compelled to rent an apartment in the area just so I can assuage all my fears and I can easily be transported to the emergency room in case anything does happen to me (I don’t know–Poisoned because I tried to mix Lysol with my Gran Matador? Choked because I tried to cram a deck of cards down my throat on a drunken dare? Whatever.)
Now, besides the fact that my doctor is the best cardiologist in the country, I particularly like seeing my doctor because his medical directorship in the teaching hospital I go to means that he has a corps of hot female residents sitting in with him while he does clinic.
Three things I learned about myself last week (Bicol Edition)
I developed a retarded fear of flying. I’ve traveled many times on a plane before but never did I develop a paralyzing fear of flying until last week, after my trip to Bicol with Marc, Riz, Ely, Alvin, Rico, Francis and other USAP Marketing Managers.
The morning we’re supposed to fly back to manila, we all took a Cebu Pacific flight from Legazpi and I, as usual, was violently hungover - I had saliva and beer encrusted on the edges of my mouth, and was practically shivering like a motherfucker as all the Gran Matador I so ungraciously imbibed the night before waltzed around my arteries.
I was still wearing the board shorts and hoodie I wore the night before and I looked, not surprisingly, like a homeless person–or more like a homeless person who had just got kicked the shit out of by a gang of Bicolano youth who belong to True Brown Style’s Legazpi Chapter with 2×4’s and chains.
Anyway, the flight, although only thirty minutes long, was probably one of the most turbulent plane rides I’ve ever been on in my entire life. The plane was diving and falling the entire time and, as I leaned back on my seat, barf bag in hand, crotch on the other, I thought about all the girls I didn’t make out with, all the deviant sexual activities I didn’t engage in and was making a list of things to do should I survive the ordeal (On the top of my list was “Verbally abuse an old woman”, “Print a hundred copies of a document with nothing on it but ‘[Name of someone from work whom I hate] smells like dried fish and looks like a harpy’ in big bold letters and place a copy on everyone’s desks”, and “eat an entire Shakey’s grand slam pizza in one sitting.”)
Now from that flight on, I shall be abnormally afraid of flying. Also, the fact that I suffered a minor stroke as soon as I landed in Manila will do nothing but to reinforce this fear.
I have a retarded fear of storms. During our visit to Sorsogon, the waves on the beach were frighteningly savage. I have no idea whether or not this is normal, but my mom sent me a text message asking me how I was and how the weather was because the north is being buttsecksed by a devastating storm.
I knew I was in the south but when you’re as panicky as I am, it wouldn’t matter and the only thing that’s gonnao go through your head is “getting hit in the head by a stray monobloc chair because you ran out in the open in the middle of a storm to find the plate of Bicol Express you left behind is a terrible way to go.”
Yeah.
Shoulder Hurt. Banana Boat: No friend to fat people
Okay so I’m back in Manila after a company outing in Subic right? Well guess what I realized? I realized that my left shoulder, which always had this chronic pain going on after a sports accident in 2001 (Youth For Christ Sports Fest. Me. On the sidelines. Eating free Tuna Sandwiches provided by the organizers. Heckling. a 6′4″ guy crashing into me, pinning my left shoulder with his knee in the process. A lot of tears. A lot of swearing), is hurting more than usual.
Now, I am not new to this kind of pain because I’m probably the biggest klutz this side of Asia and because I have been overweight for as far back as I can remember–in fact, there was this time a couple of years ago when I injured my ankle trundling around the University of the Philippines’ academic oval in a feeble attempt to “jog.” Apparently, my fat body (I was around 15 pounds heavier than I am now then) wasn’t used to physical activity that intense and the sheer weight of my body coupled with the awkward lumbering I tried to pass off as “jogging” were enough to strain my calcium-deprived ankles to actually dislocate it.
The thing is, today, I want to think that my bones are stronger from all the dieting I’m doing and from all the calcium I ingest from my diet food (ice cream, cheese in pizza, the almonds in my M&M’s, fiber from the Pizza box, Semen, etc.). However, on the contrary, it seems as if my bones have gone brittler and weaker and the littlest of physical activities–like bending down to plug my cell phone’s charger to a socket under my table somehow injure me.
Diet update. And fuck.
Reason #3 why my girlfriend, my parents or pretty much anyone who has to deal with me on a daily basis isn’t very fond of me; aka From the Mike Villar is never going to be successful at anything and probably die young file.
Before I go any further, let me just say that last night was probably one of the toughest nights I’ve had sleeping-wise. See, I crashed right after I drove home from a mini date with the girlfriend and an entire work day of trying to take in whatever it was the trainer from my company’s leadership development program was saying while sneaking in work at the same time. Doing that shit really tires the fuck out of you.
So yeah, I crashed around 12mn, woke up around 3am and couldn’t get myself to fall back asleep thanks largely to the mild anti-depressant I use to self-medicate and treat my severe anxiety with. Right around 6am, I thought to myself “Why don’t you quit dicking around, jack off, take a shower and treat yourself to a nice big meal before getting ready for work?”
But, like most of my plans in life, the entire thing fell apart mere minutes after I thought about it. After taking a shower, I sort of fell asleep on the couch, wet towel draped around my waist and all. Not that this is a bad thing since I only had 3 hours of sleep tops anyway. At this point, I was sort of playing with the idea of ditching work for the day and just catch up on sleep. But before I can come up with a decision, my next door neighbors started revving their retarded motorcycles to start their work day.
Why the fuck not right?
Why not have God screw me over on a morning where I am about to go into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a long time like I wasn’t so sleep deprived already so I can force myself to go to work to sit around dejected as fuck inside my cubicle while wondering if I’ll ever get to have sex again without shelling out thousands of pesos for it?
And because of the severe sleep deprivation that’s been bugging me a lot lately, I, and tell me if this is weird, compensated by going overboard with my food, something which totally derailed my diet.
Just to give you an idea:
Breakfast
- Tocino with 3 cups of garlic rice
- Leftover siopao from Kowloon House
- A can of coke
"The personal blog of Marketing Strategist, Rising Internet Star, Man Blog editor, child pornographer, alcoholic, and cokehead-- Douchebag Jones--Err, Mike Villar!