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…

The guy who still thinks speaking in LOLcat is cool?

The difference between how people think in real life and over the internet is that in real life, people actually know and accept that they might actually be painfully unfunny. After all, there must be a reason why these people have boring desk jobs instead of bringing comedy clubs down with their golden gifts of funny!

On the internet, this perception is skewed horribly that EVERYONE actually believes they are all engineers of an unstoppable LOLcomotive.

I mean seriously, LOLcat speak had a great run but nowadays, it feels as if the joke is being gangraped by thousands of casual, wannabe internet humorists and plurk and twitter are NOT spared from this.

A normal person would have let out a chuckle or two at the joke and moved on but these people must’ve thought “CATS! THAT CAN SPEAK! AND THE JOKES ARE INTENTIONALLY MISSPELLED! I MUST INTERSPERSE EVERYTHING I SAY ONLINE WITH THIS BECAUSE IT’S JUST SO GODDAMN FUNNY! HAHA HAHA HAHA!” And so it’s not uncommon to see plurk or twitter users broadcast fuckingly annoying messages like:

• “o hai gais!”
• “o bai gais! my karma is nutrishoos!”
• “I cant say anything that’s worth your attention, but I bet you want moar. Get it? More? but I typed “moar” Oh shit this is more than 140 characters, what can I delete? I have to leave “moar” there because that’s my comedic coup de grace!”

Messages like these are spread across this digital land of LOL so the uninitiated can laugh next time they see this kind of plagiarized humor printed in big bold letters on some T-shirt in a Greenhills stall.

So yes, fuck you. You’re unfunny and so is your retarded ching-chong language nobody really gives a fuck about.

Or maybe you want to be the guy who follows 24,088 friends and is just all over the fucking place?

For this kind of Twitter-user/Plurker, the compulsion to click that “follow” button in hopes that the user would reciprocate and therefore become someone he could whore his own unoriginal, unamusing thoughts to is so great that he dreams of colorful “follow” buttons in his sleep and has a condition where his index finger involuntarily twitches as if clicking a mouse button.

For these kinds of users, whoring and getting their names out there is the name of the game. So notice how they’re on. every. fucking. thread?! When replying to a plurk or twitter message such as “I feel so sad. my grandmother whom I loved dearly passed away this morning”, it’s typical for them to churn out brilliant ripostes like

• “why?” or
• “yay!”

One theory is that users like these have like REALLY small penises which they compensate for by pumping their Karmas up and unlocking smileys because really, smileys are just so awezoms!

How about the guy who doesn’t make sense nor stays on topic that didn’t make sense in the first place for more than 10 seconds

For these types of people, logic and continuity are sworn enemies. They are in a perpetual badminton match with logic and continuity and everytime they start posting tweets or plurks that make sense, logic and continuity score a point and sends the shuttlecock flying behind a huge locker and these people have to spend a good amount of time trying to move the locker and when they do finally find the shuttlecock, it’s all dusty and they have to wipe it with their white badminton shorts. What a hassle.

So, they make a point never to let logic and continuity score. These people are going to post a tweet or plurk that goes something like “What do you gais think about the president’s System of the Nation Address?”

To which, naturally, somebody would reply “You mean STATE of the Nation Address right?”

The thread ends with this type of user saying “Anyone seen The Dark Knight Yet? I like Jack Nicklaus as the joker moar than Heath!”

Oh, I know! How about the guy who says something racist every once in a while and you couldn’t really tell whether or not they’re joking?

Users like these understand that microblogging is about pushing the envelope and diversifying the mind. Unlike those tacky bloggers who all sound alike, microblogging allows users like these to broadcast plurks or tweets about how towelheads are exploiting our educational system and how those yellow chinks are virtually running our economy.

When questioned, they hit back with sarcastic replies claiming that those who disagree with them don’t have a sense of humor and how mainstream media has eroded their ability to understand satire. Then they call you a “fucking bisaya”

 

Over at The Man Blog, we have written enough material on picking up women, dating and relationships to make tomes that can fill entire library wings.

What we haven’t had the chance to write about, and something we’ve been feeling remiss about, are breakups.

I mean all of us, at one point or another, will go through breakups. It’s simply one of those inevitable things in life–like getting born and going through…a breakup.

When the wheels of a relationship come off, there’s usually not a lot either party can do but attempt to move on with as less pain as possible and hope for the best.

Or they could turn those frowns upside down into evil, weird-looking smirks and use this guide to get the most fun out of breakups and make it a really awesome experience instead! So, if you’re ready, take the amulet key hanging from your neck and insert it in the slot in front of you.

Step 1: Finding a girl you can break up with

The first step to an awesome breakup is actually the toughest. Finding girls can be a big bitch as most girls are ninjas, have built in stealth mechanisms and are innately surreptitious.

Make sure to check cupboards and drawers as well as areas under beds because chances are, there are girls hiding there.

As soon as you find one, ask her out on a date and proceed to step 2.

Step 2: Make her your girlfriend

Girlfriending a girl entails spending more time with her, making out with her and bearing with her as she yaks about how she envisions your wedding to be. Sometimes, she’ll even go as far as coming up with awkward, creepy descriptions of what your children will look like and even meld your pictures with her’s using morphing software to depict them. Girlfriending someone also entails you not looking grossed out when she starts talking about her vaginal infection using medical terms like candidiasis or apartheid or something.

Sometimes, this step also involves love.

Step 3: Argue with that bitch!

This step, for most people, is the easiest step since usually, for couples who spend enough time together, arguing comes as naturally as moving your lips and making any sound with your mouth. But, if for some reason, you find yourself having trouble starting an argument, here are a few argument-starters to help you get going:

• “I told you to arrange my CD collection alphabetically, not by genre. What are you? Stupid?”
• “I wish you could stop whining about how you think you’re fat. I’ve told you dozens of times already, You’re not fat. But of course I was just saying that so I could shut you up. So yeah, shut up. Shut up and hit the gym!”
• “Your being a woman turns me off”
• “The television shows you watch suck.
• “Hi Honey, let’s argue about money!”

Step 4: Breakup time!

Once you’ve gotten the hang out of step 4, it’s time to take it to the next level which is to break up with your girlfriend. The best way to go about doing this is to start an argument using one of the topics I highlighted in step 3, keep duking it out until she says “I give up! You’re impossible! WE’RE DONE!” and walks out.

If you do this correctly, ten minutes later, she’ll send you a text message to the effect off “Im nt ready 2 tlk yet. U r an ashole and I rly h8 u.” and then, about an hour later she’ll send you one that says “Im sry, I gt carrid away, cn we talk abt it?” And then finally, “Y did u post our nakd pics on ur blog? I said sry! see me 2day we need to talk”

Of course we all know this leads to…

Step 5: Getting back together!

What the fuck were you thinking? This woman’s your soulmate! Everything you went through was just a rough patch on the road towards marital bliss! You just need to sit down with her and talk about the things you both need to work on.

Step 6: Breakup time!

What the fuck were you thinking? You can’t stand her! Fuck this and fuck her! This shit’s over!

Step 7: Getting Back Together!

Baby, I’m sorry
Please forgive me for all the wrong I’ve done
Please come back home girl
I know you put all your trust in me
I’m sorry I let you down Please forgive me.

Gonna swallow my pride
Say I’m sorry
Stop pointing fingers the blame is on me
I want a new life
And I want it with you
If you feel the same
Don’t ever let it go
You gotta believe in the spirt of love
It can heal all things
We won’t hurt anymore
No I don’t believe our love’s terminal
I’m down on my knees begging you please
Come home

Step 8: Breakup time!

…

Step 9: Getting Back Together!

…I’m down on bended knee..woh oh…

Step 10: Breakup time!

…

…

…

…

Step 77: Breakup time! This time fer realz!

That’s it, You have to stop kidding yourself. You’re done with this shit.

Step 78: Seriously we’re breaking up this time

The other ones were dry runs, you’re seriously doing it this time.

Step 79: Holy shit what did I do?!

Why isn’t she calling me!? Shit, is this really it? I should call her!

Step 80: I don’t know!

No, I shouldn’t call her, she should call me!

Step 81: Feel sad as fuck

There are two ways of going about this long, tedious step: First, there’s the Mike Villar method, in which you consume as much alcohol as humanly possible and have lots of empty, paid sex that leave you feeling even sadder and more depressed every time.

Then there’s the nerd approach where you play DoTA a lot, vent out with your internet friends on forums and not have lots of empty, paid sex that would make you feel emptier and sadder than before.

However which way you choose to go about it, what’s important is to remember that all of this is just temporary and it shall pass with time. No it wouldn’t, what the fuck am I saying? She was all I had and now she’s gone! I might as well end all my suffering now by slashing my wrist while listening to Typecast. My life is meaningless!

Step 82: Feeling slightly better

You are now coming to terms with the fact that you have, indeed, broken up with your ex. This is the step where you inject yourself back into life and catch up on everything you missed while you were sulking and thinking about inventive ways to kill yourself.

You start getting your groove back at work; you flirt with every girl you come into contact with and fall in love with every single one that flirts back because the loneliness you’re feeling, although it has ebbed, is still overwhelming.

Step 83: Feeling perfectly fine

Success! You are now over your ex and through everything you’ve experienced, you are now a better person! Yay for you!

Step 84: Getting back in touch with your ex

You are totally over her and you want to talk to her and shove this fact in her face as many times as it takes her to agree to get back with you. I mean you’re a better person now! She must want you back right?

Comments are off for this Article. Comment on the original article posted over at The Man Blog.

Last week was, arguably, the most stressful week I’ve ever had in my life and Saturday, capping it off, was nothing short of a disaster: I was tired, hungover like a bitch and was probably on the verge of suffering a mild stroke.

As I painstakingly traversed EDSA to get to Greenhills, it became apparent to me that If I am to get through the next couple of weeks with stress from work, home and a bunch of other sources buttfucking me from all sides, I would probably need to start doing Shabu or some other amphetamine derivative to give me energy boosts because, seriously, this shit is just impossible.

(But wait, now that I think about it, I don’t really want to get started with drugs again for a variety of reasons. Primarily because a drug habit is expensive and I am terrible with money–A couple of days ago, I came this close to buying an 80 thousand peso laptop before I realized that hey, wait a second, I have no fucking money. And if I carded the damn thing, HSBC Collection Commandos are going to make sure that I won’t see my family alive again.

Also, for someone who’s in his late twenties and who’s only moderately famous to have a drug problem is like ewww. Whatev.)

Anyway, instead of drugs, I’ve turned to an even more potent poison– Coca Cola– to cope lately. And yes, you better start praying for me. It has been working really well so far; I pop several cans of coke a day and it keeps me focused and alive all day, until of course I get home and replace my coke drip with a couple of bottles of Red Horse in an effort to make my dying heart explode faster.

On the average, I think I can safely put the number of cans of coke I consume daily in the neighborhood of five. On the night of the Banana Gangbang Rock Festival, a night that capped off an intensely infuriating work week, I actually lost count in regards to how many cokes I had but my conservative estimate puts the number at around seven.

So I got to Bela Bar at around 9pm and, at that point, my body was filled with exorbitant amounts of sugar and caffeine that if you were close enough to me, you’d probably hear my heart buzzing.

As if that wasn’t enough, I also had the biggest headache and was so nauseous that I felt like any sudden movement would invariably cause me to puke my testicles out my mouth or my brain to explode or something

But wait, I’m Mike “Fucking” Villar, since when did I let something as stupid as a possible flu get in the way of rocking? WHEN? I’m Mike “Fucking” Villar, and again I ask you, when did I let something as stupid as “law” to get in the way of RAPE?

No, wait. FUCK!

Anyway, yeah, so I might have been coming down with a flu, big deal. If Michael Jordan can drop 38 points on the Jazz with a flu, then I sure as hell can get up there and give the audience the gift of ROCK flu and all. All I need is an Advil and probably a bonamine.

So I asked Marco and Rey to walk around the vicinity with me to find a drug store right? FAIL.

It turns out that the nearest drugstore was like three blocks away.

I got to the drugstore and immediately started arguing with the pharmacist guy because he said that I cannot take a bonamine and an advil and how I should only take one or the other. I was all like “Dude, fuck you, just because you know all these fancy drug generic names doesn’t make you a fucking doctor. I had two years of med schooling under my belt. Now what do you say you hand over the fucking bonamine AND the fucking advil NOW?”

After a few more minutes of arguing with the pharmacist guy which ended with him saying “My lord and savior Jesus Christ will punish you”, he finally handed over the pills to me which I promptly popped and washed down with bottled iced tea. FAIL.

I headed back to the bar and now, after popping the pills I insisted on buying even after a professional who knows drugs and their effect on people dissuaded me to do so, I not only feel nauseous and light headed, I was also seeing double for some reason. But because I had a shitty week, I was hell bent on doing only one thing: To get really fucked up. less than an hour later, I had four bottles of empty Red Horse bottles to my credit. FAIL.

I don’t know if it’s just me but the effect of Advil, Bonamine, Iced tea, beer and like 200 cigarettes made me feel high as a kite. My vision started to get all blurry, my heart rate accelerated and of course, I started to sweat and I began shivering–I was fucked up. In a good way.

When Zoo took the stage, I was hypnotized, by the time they played their second song, if anyone yelled “Everyone! quick! Let’s whip out our birds and masturbate to their music!” I would’ve dropped my pants and started flogging my dolphin in less than three seconds. When Mannequin played, anybody could’ve yelled “Everyone! Let’s eat napkins!” and I would’ve started making napkin salad and the bar would be out of napkins in no time. This is the only way I can describe how fucking high I was.

When Marco Palinar went up on stage and played his guitar like how a man should play with a woman’s body, I doubled up on the floor and made a noise similar to that of a big dog getting kicked in the stomach. It was over for me. I orgasmed without touching my bird all thanks to the awesomeness of the music.

My band, Tempestuous’, set was pretty uneventful save for a few times when my mic died and I had to shuffle back and forth between the wired mic and the wirless mic which is funny in itself. I think.

And what can I say about Lose Your Beer Belly capping off the night? Well, all I can say is Bok, Lose Your Beer Belly Vocalist Guy, is made of SEX; and I could totally imagine him, Ade and myself making out after making sweet, sweet music together.

All in all I had a great time. I especially had a great time not talking to people because I was high off my mind. I mean, I think I saw Ria Jose, Kring, and poyt in the event, but because I was too busy talking to my uncle, King Arthur over at Camelot on my imaginary cellphone, I didn’t get the chance to speak with them. I’m really sorry guys. Tell you what though, when you guys hold an event, you don’t have to talk to me. Just make sure I have my beer, my advil and my bonamine and I’d be fine.

Anyway, I would like to thank the following people for being there and making the event 9 times more awesome:

• Ade Magnaye
• Fritz Tentativa
• Sasha Manuel
• Rico Mossesgeld
• Helga Weber
• Rico Sta. Cruz
• Peter Juan
• Jen Juan
• Pau Araos
• Lauren Dado
• Noemi Dado
• Butch Dado
• Karla Redor
• Jhay Rocas
• Penny Monasterial

Here are some pictures from my Flickr Photo set

More Pictures!

• My Multiply
• Karla Redor
• Fritz
• Poyt (1, 2)
• Pau
• Jhay
• Sasha (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)
• Gem (Zoo’s vox)

More articles about BGRF on the interwubz:

• Rockersworld.com
• Fritzified
• About My Recovery
• Faded Boxers
• Noisy, Noisy Man

After all, yours truly had a recent brush with death and our readers who are not incapacitated or dead statistically have more money to put into our illegal “Donate to starving orphans in Africa” and “We promise your money will get there and we won’t spend it on alcohol” funds.

Two paragraphs of fluff later and with no further ado, I shall impart to you, dear reader, some useful tips to avoid dying.

If you follow these simple tips, you’d be exactly like this guy. Healthy, alive and most probably a douchebag.

Tip #1:

If by any chance, a venomous scorpion finds its way inside your shoe, do not wear it. I know you really like that pair of shoes and I agree that you’d look silly wearing only one shoe, but bro your shoe belongs to the venomous scorpion now. He has like neurotoxic venom or some shit that could give you a bad case of death if you get stung.

If you’re really forgetful and you feel like you can’t trust yourself to avoid putting the shoe with the venomous scorpion in it on, you might want to consider writing “Do not fucking wear” on a paper and gluing it on the shoe where the venomous scorpion is.

If wearing the shoe cannot be avoided, you will have to get rid of the venomous scorpion–you can do this by not giving it food daily. It will then get hungry and shall be forced to get out of your shoe to hunt for food.

Tip #2:

Try to say no to AIDS. Sure, it sounds tempting and all but people who’ve actually had AIDS will tell you it’s not as good as it’s all hyped to be.

Tip #3:

If a bear attacks you while you’re taking a leak behind some bushes, you have to make sure that the bear is smaller than you. Scientific studies show that the size of an animal is directly proportional to the seriousness of the injury and the size of death it can inflict on a human being it attacks. So yeah, make sure the bear has a serious case of dwarfism or something.

Tip #4:

When faced with the decision to whether fall off a high cliff or not to fall off a high cliff, choose to not fall off a high cliff EVERY TIME. Seriously, this is not hard. Think of it this way: you can pretty much choose to not fall of a high cliff a million times in a row and everything would be fine and dandy; if you choose to fall off a high cliff just once you fuck everything up.

Tip #5:

If you find yourself being stabbed, DO NOT, under any circumstance, take off your chain mail. I don’t care if it’s uncomfortable or you think you saw an insect creep inside your chain mail, DO NOT remove it. Also, if you have some sort of uncanny mutant ability that allows you to heal instantly but you found a magic coin that grants you one wish, now is a terrible time to wish your mutant ability away. Really, screw being normal. Just take deep breaths and wait the stabbing out.

I’ve always tried to see these comments or emails as constructive criticism; but sometimes, comments like “Mike Villar likes to lick donkey balls because he has the intelligence quotient of a barbecue skewer. Also, he is a gay and a dumb” are too much for even myself to resist:

Yes. Sometimes, I cannot help but retaliate with an effortless strike of witty, obscene, curse-filled polemic whenever comments like these find their way in my inbox. Of course this isn’t exactly a good idea because as we all know, arguments done over the internet last an average of 62 years and sometimes even carries over to your unsuspecting progeny’s internet life. (Most of the flames directed towards me were actually just spillovers from my dad’s tiff with some members of a Dragon Ball Z message board back in 1967)

Needless to say, I have mastered the art of arguing over the internet and if you have enough time and patience, I am willing to take you under my wing and teach you this intricate art. Or maybe not because even if you do have the time, I probably don’t as I am perpetually busy proving that Super Saiyan Son Goku is no match for a Super Saiyan IV Vegeta to a nine year old over a nondescript anime message board.

So, you know, why don’t you kamehameha your face and just read the fucking guide?

What the fuck do you know? I am the expert. Bitch.

If, for some reason, you find yourself arguing with somebody over the internet about whether or not Gloria Macapagal Arroyo should resign, say that you are the secret emperor of the Philippines and thus know more about the subject than she does. And if say you find yourself arguing with somebody about the legitimacy of blogs as a medium for journalism, why don’t you go ahead and claim that you are the Dean of Blogs in the University of the Universe’s college of blogging?

What you have to understand is that it really doesn’t matter whether or not you know what the fuck you’re talking about. The internet makes it possible for you to become anyone you want to be! (read: Rising Internet Star)

Sample Flame: Hellow pow! y WuD u Say ThaT KiM is d BesT PInOy BiG BROTHeR GrAnd ChAmPion? ThAT Is A BuLLsHet! You DnT knW WhaT ur TalkIng AboUT! ClEarLY NEL is d BEst GrANd ChamPion BeCauSe HiS Pogi And hAs Dark Betlog and Many BulBols!

How NOT to respond: Hi, while, arguably, Nel is the most colorful character as far as the entire Pinoy Big Brother series would go, he didn’t have as much career mileage as Kim Chiu did after PBB. I think her endorsements speak for themselves. Just my opinion

Correct Response: I would listen to you but seeing that you didn’t CONCEPTUALIZE, FILM, MANAGE, nor did you do ALL THE STUNTS for Pinoy Big Brother like I did, I don’t think your opinion matters. So why don’t you just suck a queer fetus you stupid fuck!

NEVER Stay on topic

This is very important. Never, under any circumstances should you attempt to engage a flamer on an argument that could potentially stay on track. If you stick to finding flaws in your flamer’s comment instead of tackling the issue head on, you should be fine.

Everybody knows that anyone who stays on topic leave themselves open for further scrutiny and end up parrying strikes from his opponent when he clearly needs to be on the attack instead.

It’s really just like Marvel Vs. Street Fighter– The amateur internet debater ducks in a corner with their arms covering their face to dampen their opponent’s blows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to launch a counterstrike. The experienced internet debater on the other hand unleashes complicated 3222-hit combos that more often than not involves transforming into a ten headed dragon of death that breathes orange fireballs of destruction and opening a can of evil pedophile mime death on their cowering opponents.

Sample Flame: I read your post about how blogs are used by some people as penis-compensating tools. I think you don’t know what you’re talking about and should probably do some more research. Blogs are an integral part of social media!

How not to respond: No, I stand by what I wrote. It’s just that bloggers nowadays value their existence based on their blog’s page rank and technorati links.

Correct Response: Um no? You are a dumb and stupid and you’re probably a virgin. Why don’t you just go to your squatter house and kiss your squatter mom because you are stupid as a dumb idiot.

Even better response: I HEADSHOT YOU WITH AWP

Call anyone who flames you a Fag

An internet argument is not an argument at all if it doesn’t involve one person calling another a Fag. This is a non-negotiable requirement of an internet argument.

People who don’t know any better would probably find this tactic childish and politically incorrect but this technique represents one of the cornerstones of internet debating.

This technique is believed to have been invented by The Man Blog’s Pau Araos who, up to now, uses the technique with staggering mastery and efficiency.

Sample Flame: Why do you keep mentioning that Diablo Cody used to be a stripper? Yeah, so? Seriously, why is that even worth mentioning? Because if you keep bringing that shit up, I think it’s only right that you also mention that she graduated with a degree in Media Studies. That she used to do proofreading jobs. That she used to write for magazines. Long story short, she’s more qualified than any of you ignorant bigots will ever be. I mean, really (Sample Flame courtesy of Anne)

How NOT to reply: You’re right. I should probably have done more research. I’ll edit my post when I find the time. Thank you for pointing that out.

Correct Response: EAT MY PENIS PLZ! JUMP UP MY BUTT YOU FAG!!!1

I know that my girlfriend has nothing but good intentions in wanting me to think more positively and frankly, I am all for changing for the better.

But while that’s true, I see no real pragmatic reason to become a frivolous, young optimist. I mean come on, how fun can that be? All those optimists do is to anticipate that everything is going to end up fine peachy in situations where normal people (and negative thinkers like myself) would have no choice but to embrace the staggering truth that life is transient, happiness is an illusion and we are born for only one purpose: To die.

Anyway, before I cross over to a world where musical little bunnies follow me where ever I go and colorful flowers sprout where ever I tread; I want to make sure that I pass the torch to a new batch of people who’re going to keep it real. A batch of people who will believe only one immutable truth: and that is the world is nothing but a savage joke played by a negligent, chortling God and no matter how good this life gets, it’s nothing but a grim preview of the burning, eternal hell that awaits us in the afterlife.

In order for me to succeed in this endeavor, I have created a guide that differentiates the reactions to everyday scenarios of a positive thinker from that of a negative thinker. Remember, it is important that you learn how to think negatively as soon as possible. After all, every day you spend in this forlorn Earth is like another step you take towards your inevitable doom.

Scenario #1: Waking up for work in the morning

Scenario #2: Getting dressed for work

But you’re probably going to fuck that up too. Whatever.

Scenario #3: Seeing an attractive chick walking down the street

I’ll probably panic and try to scream for help only to realize that she had cut off my tongue with that katana blade she’s holding.

So no, I better forget about her and do some more drugs or drink myself to death.

–
That about does it for this guide. I know I probably failed in educating you with it but hey, on a more positive note–wait, there is no positive note. Also, did I already mention that we’re all bound to die?

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…

Starbucks.  As an establishment that epitomizes everything that’s wrong with western commercialized culture and the pitiful third world market that patronizes it, Starbucks is actually an excellent place to get high-quality, USDA-approved meat if you know what I mean.

The trick here is to head down to your local Starbucks with a sweater and the thickest, most pretentious book you can find and order a coffee concoction that costs at least 200 Pesos.

Now for the secret sauce that’s sure to send those rich, pretentious art majors flying into your longing, intellectual arms: Formulate a sentence using the patented template below:

My Opinion is that ___(A)___totally ___(B)___The Novel ___(C)___ with astounding___(D)___

Choices for (A)

• Khalil Gibran
• Gabriel Garcia Marquez
• Milan Kundera
• Pablo Neruda
• Immanuel Kant

Choices for (B)

• towered over
• outshone
• bastardized

Choices for (C)

• To The Lighthouse
• Mrs. Dalloway
• Heart of Darkness
• Lolita
  

Choices for (D)

• lifelikeness
• steadfastness
• surrealism

Sample Usage: My Opinion is that Milan Kundera totally towered over the novel Mrs. Dalloway with astounding surrealism.

How not to do it:

If you’ve done everything I told you to do at this point, you’ve probably already found an attractive mate. If not, you should start looking good or come up with a rock solid alibi for the judge of your future sex crime trial.

Also, I hate the guy on the picture above. The look on his face reminds me of my ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend. Especially that time he called the cops after I broke all the windows of his car by throwing soda cans at it. That pietistic son of a bitch.

Anyway, that’s all the time I have for now. Stay tuned for the next installment of The Picking Up Women Series: Dating – How to weave an intricate web of lies you will base your entire relationship on.

Well:

• A lot of cussing.
• A lot of racist jokes.
• A lot of dicking around.
• Bim, having an emotional breakdown as he regales others with stories of his childhood replete with sexual abuse and incest.
• Some asshole double-fisting drinks all night and eventually throwing up and passing out on the cold bathroom floor.

Seriously though, I had a blast recording this podcast and I hope we can do more of this in the future. Special thanks to San Miguel Beer for sponsoring the event; Jayvee Fernandez for making all of this possible, Lauren and Noemi Dado for letting us destroy their house, eat all their food and steal one of their figurines (Okay I did it. I’ll return it, I swear. Jeez.); and to everyone else who were part of the podcast, the show wouldn’t be half as fun without you guys.

• Juned
• AJ
• The Rest of The Man Blog

Although I cannot claim to be a pioneer of what we call today as “The Internet Culture;” I’ve been online long enough to have a fairly good understanding of what internet denizens are like. I vaguely remember going online just to download Alicia Silverstone pictures on a 14.4 KBPS connection or logging in to ICQ to ask one of my pre-med classmates to scan his notes for me and have them “DCC’ed” to me–A process which takes something like 4 hours.

I can’t claim to have sent plain text emails on a super computer that runs on vacuum tubes, there were internet pioneers who stretch farther into the past than I did. But one of the things that these pioneers and myself share is being able to witness a time when “internet culture” was a homogeneous thing–a badge we wear proudly.

The internet of 2007 is a long tail of thousands upon thousands of archetypes. Since I do not have sufficient time nor willpower to describe each and every one of them, let me provide you with keen insight into my favorite one: The Internet Elitist.

If you yourself are an internet elitist, please realize that I’m not making fun of you specifically. I’m just making fun of you in general. You know, because you’re a douchebag.

Who are the Internet Elitists

Internet elitists are typically in their mid twenties to their mid thirties. They spend most of their adult life obsessively fixating over the internet, something which they consider to be their domain. Among all the archetypes of modern internet users, the internet elitist is the one who share the most characteristics with the pioneers of the Internet. They’d remind you every chance they get too.

Internet elitists think that having an email address with a naming convention other than “name.surname@email.com” is “geigh” and using Yahoo! Messenger is “retarded” since the Yahoo! Messenger client “sold out” when it served ads. Internet elitists use Trillian or for Mac elitists, the more elite of internet elitists, Adium.

Awesomecakes! How do I become one?

Internet elitists have very discerning tastes when it comes to how they use the internet or how they entertain themselves over the internet. They will discuss their passions to a point of fanatical obsession. In order to qualify as an internet elitist, you must possess at least five of the following qualities:

• You must have a borderline deranged obsession for alternative browsers like Flock or Safari or Opera.
• You must hate a TV series after its first season or after people outside your circle starts watching them. Sure Heroes was cool but it totally fucking sucked after the first season. Now every episode feels like a really bad episode of One Tree Hill.
• A Zealous love for Tool. Nevermind the fact that Tool fans are the most widely-hated music club this side of Linkin Park land.
• Impossible, scrupulous standards for what makes a woman “attractive.” Despite the fact that an Internet elitist is most probably a virgin, or in the rare instances that he does have sex, he fails to satisfy both himself and his partner because of his obvious lack of stamina resulting from sitting in front of the computer for weeks on end working on a huge ass Photoshop or AutoCAD project; he will immediately spot or even fabricate flaws in the most beautiful of women.
• An automatic, inherent disgust for anything on the Internet he has seen before. When anybody shows an Internet elitist a funny video on YouTube, he’ll snap back with an almost knee-jerk retort of “The 90’s called, it wants its video back…“
• …Because after all, the video in question was probably posted on Digg months before.
• You should laugh at people who played Final Fantasy after Final Fantasy VII because the franchise “sold out” after that.
• The internet elitist buys computer hardware based on benchmarks and the recommendations of other internet elitists in a tech forum he frequents. Also, he, most probably, has a signature containing the complete system specs of his “rig” on any forum he posts at.
• Don’t have a blog. Blogging is so below you. However, make sure to leave anonymous comments on popular blogs which invariably questions the blogger’s sexuality or attacks his personal life.
• A blatant disregard for hygiene and grooming. After all, “Trying to look good limits my productivity” or “It’s a dot com thing.”
• Internet elitists are the life of the party. That is if by “life of the party” means whipping out your laptop, Cellphone, hell even your PSP to wardrive for free WiFi to post updates on Twitter about how “retarded” the party is.

Originally written for The Man Blog

TV shows come and go. Every so often, there comes a point when the life of a television series starts to flicker and grow dim. Worse, there is always a putrid uncertainty that comes with wondering if our favorite TV shows will even return as networks, with an insensitive and cruel disregard, toy with our emotions with executives waiting until the last minute to decide which shows live on and which shows drop from the lineup to their certain deaths.

Your show, Desperate Housewives, was one of the shows I wished death upon after its first season. And can you blame me? The inexplicably retarded storytelling, random betrayals and suicidally poignant interpersonal drama, as well as all the twists, turns, flips, flops and flops that happened midway through the 2nd season made the show really painful to watch. A pain which is, perhaps, worse than losing a loved one. Maybe even two loved ones in a bizarre hotel fire.

But still, I continued to watch. And I did so only because of Teri Hatcher and Eva Fucking Longoria.

There was actually a time when I was so obsessed with Teri and Eva that had either one of them asked me to quit my job, I would’ve said “done”; That had either one of them asked me to renounce my fleshly ways and dedicate my life to reading the bible, I would’ve said “done”; that had either of them asked me to embrace people from all walks of life and cultures and maybe give up sweets, I would’ve said “not until you give me a blowjob.” You get the point.

I was pretty smitten; so when I first heard about what many claimed to be a sweeping, insulting remark about medical schools in the Philippines made by Teri Hatcher’s character in one episode, I remained relatively indifferent to the issue.

Showing a modicum of class when you’re not required to is a tough act; so you guys can only imagine my surprise when your network issued a public apology for your little “racial slur.”

I know it should’ve been water under the bridge now but there seemed to be a call for blood and a major brouhaha even after your public apology was issued.

Now, I believe in the power of forgiveness and in the same manner that you apologized to us, I would like to apologize to you on behalf of my countrymen who do not have the intellectual capacity to understand satirized humor.

Since this is a rather rare opportunity for me, let me start off by apologizing for our country’s bastardization of Christianity by creating sects based on the twin principles of destroying other forms of faith and getting a tenth of their members’ monthly income. Oh how I digress.

• I want to apologize for Representative Bienvenido Abante and Senator Rodolfo Biazon for even thinking of banning Desperate Housewives in the Philippines. What they don’t know is that most of us assrape your intellectual property by buying entire seasons of your show on sub $2 pirated DVD’s or downloading the shit out of it from torrent sites. The latter is of course done using Taiwan-made OEM computers running on a pirated version of the latest version of Microsoft Windows.

• I apologize for our dangerous soft-heartedness and more importantly, our hypocrisy. I doubt if any of you watch Philippine Television, but we make a lot of sitcoms based on your TV shows where we invariably make fun of racial stereotypes including but not limited to the Indians being smelly, turban-sporting loan sharks; the Japanese being war shocked WWII veterans and the Chinese being chinky-eyed, greedy businessmen who own junk shops and magic barbels.

• I apologize for Manny Pacquiao. Nuff Said.

• And finally, I apologize for the list of bloggers below. If it’s any consolation, not all of us are retarded and some of us actually get it.

• Desperate Housewives jokes about Med Schools in the Philippines
• Second Class Citizens
• Anti-Filipino Slur on Desperate Housewives?
• Desperate Housewives’ Rather Insulting Remark about Medical Schools in the Philippines
• Desperate Housewives racial slur against Filipino medical practicioners?
• Who’s Desperate?
• Filipino Americans demand for apology from ABC and Desperate Housewives Petition
• Kick That Desperate Housewives Out
• Teri Hatcher of Desperate Housewives Insults Filipinos
• Desperate for Philippine Audience
• Desperate Housewives Maligns Philippine Med Schools
• Filams Protest US TV show – ABS-CBN News
• Reacting and Over Reacting to DH Script…
• Desperate Housewives on Philippine Med Schools
• Bloghopping
• My Take On This Desperate Housewives Shenanigans
• Another Perspective on the Latest Racial Slur Issue
• Of Racists and Slurs
• Desperate Housewives, Philippine Medical Schools and How Many of You Got it All Wrong
• What Did You Just Say, Teri Hatcher?
• About Desperate Housewives, Teri Hatcher and Med Schools
• Pinoys seek apology from ‘Desperate Housewives
• “Desperate Housewives” insults Filipinos
• Anti-Filipino remark on ‘Desperate Housewives’?
• Desperate Housewives’ [Season 4, Episode 1] denigrates Filipino Doctors
• Fil-Am Anger: Desperate Housewives’ Slur vs. Filipino Medical Schools
• Dok, sa Pilipinas ka ba nag-Med School
• Desperate Housewives on Pinoy MDs
• Desperate Housewives’ insulting remark to Philippine Med Schools
• Desperate Housewives Diss Philippine-Educated Doctors
• ‘tado to ah!
• Desperate Housewives Slur Vs The Philippines
• IT’S NOT FUNNY!
• Desperate Housewives Chenes
• Desperate Housewives maligns Philippine med schools
• Desperate Housewives Apparently Insults Filipinos: So What?
• Malacañang responds to Desperate housewives issue
• Teri Hatcher doesn’t want her vagina examined by doctor from Philippines
• Susan Mayer, Back Off!
• What Should You Do Before Condemning Desperate Housewives?
• Do You Really Want to Get Desperate Housewives’s Attention?
• Video Response to “Teri Hatcher Insults Filipinos”
• Filipino medics protest alleged racial slur in US TV show
• Fil-Americans protest ‘racist’ line in ‘Desperate Housewives
• Ermita: Palace to seek apology for ‘racial slur’ on US show
• DFA protests to US TV network over ‘racial slur’
• Touchy Subject | Filipino Americans demand for apology from ABC and Desperate Housewives
• Conan O’Brien Hates the Philippines Too!
• Dismal And Sound Logic: Reactions Regarding The Desperate Housewives Controversy

All told, I would like to urge you to go on and do your thing with Desperate Housewives. Our Television industry lives off your ideas. I mean, who knows, in the near future, maybe we can make a sanitized rip-off show which stars Cherry pie Picache, Zsa Zsa Padilla, Ruffa Mae Quinto and Kris Aquino. Remember Dawson’s Creek? Remember Tabing ilog?

It’s just that we, as a people in general, are very sensitive when it comes to our sense of nationalism. But then again, we can always count on Christian Bautista to work on that can’t we?