Gary wants to punish me
Posted on June 6, 2008
Filed Under Failures | 4 comments
Okay, remember when I blogged about how I wanted to get a gym membership just because I liked the gym bag that comes with it? How about that short-lived diet I had going on?
Well, I think I’m finally getting my act together because recently, along with a couple of friends from the office , I finally got a gym membership and consented to being subjected to an exhaustive and rigid training regimen.
But, instead of being all optimistic about being whipped back into shape, I think I may very well be on my way to gaining all the weight I lost from my short dieting stint.
The reason: I think my shoulder–the same shoulder I hurt on a sports-related freak accident back in 2001– is shot to shit. I think I might have busted it yesterday when I forced myself to do a pathetic 165 lbs on squats. I know, I know; you readers who are into body building and shit are probably laughing your steroid asses off and saying “Well, if you did your squats properly there shouldn’t be any reason for you to hurt your shoulders because when you do squats, the bar should rest below your shoulder blades” and to you I say “Well that’s easy for you to say because if you’re as fat as I am, you can’t really tell your shoulder blades apart from the rest of your fat-laden back even if your life depended on it” and laugh at how funny you look in your muscle shirts and arm tattoos.
I told our group’s trainer, Gary (who is some sort of Mixed Martial Artist and whose secret mission to turn me from “Mike Villar: Rising Internet Star, Fat Chops” to “Mike Villar: Stamina God and Purveyor of Pain” is becoming more and more evident each day I work out with him)about this yesterday and his response was something to the effect of “I can see your Vagina through your shorts. Oh and welcome to the world of serious working out. And Pain.”
The friends I work out with say that a certain amount of pain and discomfort is to be expected when you work out seriously and yes, I probably do have a vagina, but when my body’s so sore to the point that I cannot even guide a spoon to my mouth with my right hand to eat, well, something’s definitely amiss.
(Oh and Gary said that he was going to “punish” me if I do not continue with the program tomorrow after I explained to him that I might not be able to work out for a while because of the chronic shoulder pain bothering me. He said that it doesn’t really matter and he’s still going to punish me and my family so yeah, I’m kind of freaked out by that.)
Now, I’ve sunk deeper and deeper into a pit of depression because I feel like a pussy and a failure.
This morning, I contacted the orthopedist who worked on my shoulder two years ago to have it checked but his secretary said that he won’t have clinic on the hospital closest to me until Monday next week. Apparently, saying “My shoulder’s feel weird” doesn’t evoke a sense of urgency from doctors.
So yeah, fuck that. Instead I’m going to sleep tonight and hope that my shoulder magically heals mostly out of admiration for my will to get back into shape or, I dunno, maybe it will just decide to fall off or something. I mean, at least if that happens, I can get a cast and have an excuse not to work out for the next few weeks or so. And maybe I can confront Gary and say “What? You honestly think I wanted to blow my shoulder out and not work out? I’m in a fucking cast! How about a little sympathy you asshole?”
So yeah, I just thought I’d write about all of this because I know you assholes love it when I fail at something. Also, I promise this is the last time I’m going to write about health shit. Expect the next update after I hit the 300 lbs milestone.
Sometimes I overdo this humor thing
Posted on May 30, 2008
Filed Under Failures, Nickel and Diming | 4 comments
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?
FOBCast 7 - Constipated
Posted on May 28, 2008
Filed Under FOBcast | 6 comments
In this show we talk about:
- Jayvee Fernandez reads one twitter message
- Then he talks about umobile
- Mike pretends to know about marketing so he talks about Permission Marketing
- And because it’s the fucking Jayvee show, he talks about Blogbank
- Markku Seguerra is a handsome guy
- Globe/Singtel Offering the Iphone in the Philippines
- will the iTunes store open in the Philippines?
- SEO vs Findability in Web 3.0
- Jayvee’s 34 seconds of LOL
- Rico Mossesgeld dicks around with us
- Mario Kart for the Wii
- Painter’s picker for OS X
- Hugo Boss Dark Blue
Mike Villar: Now Healthy as a battleship!
Posted on May 26, 2008
Filed Under Daily, Failures, Gluttony | 8 comments
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)
Posted on May 21, 2008
Filed Under Failures, Nickel and Diming | 9 comments
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.
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Mike "Fucking" Villar
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"The personal blog of Marketing Strategist, Rising Internet Star, Man Blog editor, child pornographer, alcoholic, and cokehead-- Douchebag Jones--Err, Mike Villar!
