Homlessexual

If one is to be beaten, placed a in a field with wild lockjawed dykes with chainsaw breasts for having a wild imagination then I would be one of the first batches in the caravans of people to meet his/her demize.
Well one of those moments occured to me last night, just past 12:22am after work.
Due to a growing problem of streets getting too small and people are in the habbit of waisting thire blood labors on huge bulking show of 'superiority' called cars, my own poor excuse of 'superiority' was parked a few blocks away, through the dark S.F. alleyways.

Every sound around me is amplified due to the high walls, bridge overpasses have pillars creating an effect one can only imagin being underneath a huge fossilized centaped. Shadows dissapear, and the things you now fear are the lights manipulating your darkest dreads and insecurities. The wet cement floors reveal a soundless muzzled steps and random crisp sounds revealing disguarded plastic bags, then i hear a whisper.

I froze for what seems to be a millenia relating to the remains of the people of Pompei forever turned to status due to the volcanic ash. Was that whisper nothing more than my imagination? was it getting louder? which way is it comming from? and the main question in my head, why am i not running? Fear turns to curiosity, and i try to follow the sound with my eyes. leading me to a dark shadow behind one of the Pillars shadows. At this point images of littel dwarves with circular spears pop into my mind i automaticly draw up a plan to thwart there thurst for Pinoy flesh, but then reality steps in, my eyes adjust to the lack of lighting and i see a figure, 2 of them to be exact stacked on top of eachother like Jenga peices, the top one seemed to be teetering and about to collaps the Jenga structure.

To my surprize it wasnt dwarves, or Jenga blocks but to Homeless people making love. To my shame i looked away hoping i didn't interupt there Extream PDA performance, and continued my walk to my poor excuse of 'Superiority'. Upon driving back home i couldnt get the though of 2 poor and out indeviduals finding 'love' in the midst of harsh conditions, i couldnt help but think can they truly love like 'regular' people? have a 'regular' relationship and remain poor? or will they try to pick things up and try to better there situation?

Dont get me wrong, homeless people are regular people with natural needs and affections like Love, hate, and fear. But through life expreiences there deffinitions of the words alter and possibly tainted. The Social View of Love is the ones that we see in TV, in there situation, that is not possible, but then again in real life no matter how much we try to immitate art, all were doing is immitating something that is truly abnormal.

Little Emily

Little Emily was wondering in the outskirts of her Aunts Cemetary one snowy afternoon. Her snow boots crunching with every step, and every breath looked as though she herself was a portal for the souls below her to assend to the skies. She would look up and see the heat vapors vanish into the 4pm skies, then all goes black.
Little Emily awakens with what feels to be in a belly of a speeding monster. Now having difficulties breathing due to something around her neck, she thinks "this is a joke right? kuyas pulling a fast one" but the pain in her poking her left arm with every shift tells her otherwise, possibly a toolbox.
Voices are heard through the sack surrounding her head, past the cotton and leater seats that separate her with the ones that abducted her. Within moments the voices form words, words with melody only a boxer with cauliflower ears could understand, "Its too late to appologize, its too late" the sound gets louder with a womans voice attempting to sing over it, "ITS TOO LATE TO APOLOGIZE, ITS TOO LATE" the voice now seems to echo in her head..."I'm sorry, let me go please, I promise not to tell" but somehow the song answeres her inner monolouge all too well. The car gets wilder and the bumps more violent, then with a sudden screech and a sound like a humpback whale screaming, it all stops.
Few days later Little Emily was back in her Aunts Cemetary, the snow crunches with every step, and the souls of the dead are brought to the skies through the peoples breath that are there for her cerimony. I wonder if Little Emilys was one of them.

Trouble Troubles you

One can ever wonder what the world was before our world started.
Did the old universe have similar orgins as ours? If so how far did its technology evolve? Or was did its main inhabitants totaly different than ours, that us being made under Gods image as opposed to the old Universes look/feel, was it more angelic and bright?
Are we just cycles of "New Heaven and New Earth"?
Or are we (Meaning our Universe/Reality) be the final one God creates, like the ending of Revelations 22.
Quick thing.....
In the end of our universe and God creates a New Heaven and New Earth with God himself as ruler, we are leaked through, kinda like trickled down from the old world. How about the World before us? did they trickl down? Such as the case with Sin, the Evil One and many other things?
Hmmm...

the Tragic Trauma Tabs

Its happening again.

I should know, I've went through this several times before.

The edge of exaustion, the limit of sanity.

Right now all my muscles ache, my head feels like its submerged in urine and blood, my eyes are like police sirens warding off all who looks at me in direct contact. I want to sleep but cant due to my working hours. If i had my way, i would have sleept in but i cant afford getting that 'write up'. Back to back shifs, 14hr work day, and evil overseers. Seems like the begining of a video game, but this time the hero is a lowely security guard that just cant tell from phisical to imagined images. I hope i dont have to write any reports of incidents or stupid he said she said buisness.
I feel like gnawing at my tendons.

This is the borderline, if i dont have sleep soon then dementia kicks in and afterwards... Doktor Sleepless.

Gerber Baby Food

Just the other day (not that other day, the other one!) I was sight seeing in our local Electronic Orgazim store known to the local mass omnivores, 'Best Buy' in the land of the dead, Colma.
Already i understand why this senario seems funny and sad.

Here is a place filled with our departed and forgotten loved ones, miles and miles of people that has influenced our little lives, and shaped who we are today, only left to be taken cared of by Mexican gardeners, and sprinkler heads.

Then lies the Comedy, a giant box of consumer filth plopped right on the center, and droves and droves of people flock to its 'Savings' thinking it would grant them 'Salvation' to there meek existance.

Here I was. Surrounded with what looked like a crowed of undead people, almost numbering the nearby Italian Cemetarys Grave Markers.

Here i was, in its Mens Restroom located at the back near the room where the establishments slaves quarters were.
As i stood ever so close to the urinal a gentelman occupied the one next to me. He seemed happy, the kind of happy a bunch of microchips in a black box so you can watch your High Def. Porn, happy.
As i reached the end of my stream, the person to my left let loose some aire from his pant reigon, but something was different, the sound had more bass, and his posture stiffened.
His happieness turned to compleet defeat it held in his kakhi Dockers.
I turned and went off to the sink, took my time washing my hands, curious to what the gentelman would do. Obiously he would use the toilets but how in his loose rectume can he play this one off. I used the mirror to mask my glee and stare.
He took one step back from the urinal, and with both his knees locked together he slowly walked only rotating his knees (very occuard) toward the handy-cap stall.
I can only imagin the imbarresment and shame the Guy went through. As he let loose a what sounded like a water baloon bursting in a bucket filled with water. Possibly the arse clean up must be a work of its own, the T.P alone might look like something you wipe up from your baby after eathing Gerber Baby Food.
After a while (safe enough to know my boudaries of pervert and someone who is mearly curious) i left the restroom back to the crowed of dark haired masses.

Possibly this was a case of finaly paying respect to the dead around them? After all, Fertilizer is what keeps the area green and beutiful so that we can look at our loved ones Ephitaph and feel better about ourselves.

Good bye Mr. President

I found this image.

Its not real but a manufacturd one, but non the less, freakin funny!




I mean, its George Bush chocking on a pretzel.
hehehehehe

Man, this is Gold!

Guitar

Yea, funny how things turned out.
I got home from work yesterday at 0425pm, and started practicing my guitar.
2hrs and 20mins later i almosed missed my other job.
Its really fun learing the thing.
I just wish i could learn faster.
so far i'm learing 2 songs.
"In the Secret" and "Prince of Peace"

Prince of Peace i kinda stopped cuz i was demoralized on my performance in the Winter Retreat (sucked that bad)but "In the Secret" i would have to say i'm doing pretty good at.
well only time will tell huh?

cant wait for round 2.

Rational Madness

Some say that there is a very fine line between Genius and Insanity.

I'm not sure there is any line at all, some Physicians say that Madness is in some way Rational Behavior that is simply a Reaction to an Irrational Situation.

But this theory falls apart when you study some of the more extreme cases of Recent Serial Killers.

Mercury is Shrinking!

yea, a freakin planet!

what does this all mean?

"Scientists had theorized that as the core of Mercury cools, it contracts and the whole planet shrinks. That was even a 19th Century theory for why Earth had mountains, but one that later proven wrong, Solomon said. But with Mercury that seems to be the case. As the planet shrinks, a bit of crust is pushed over another, forming what Prockter calls "wrinkle ridges."

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080131/ap_on_sc/mercury_messenger;_ylt=ApJ6kEtgV0iGjKOWLfn0gZus0NUE

THE Dying Breed

The other day i was behind an Elephant of a vehicle (SUV) on my motorcycle. It was wild, i couldn’t shake off the analogies of Animal kingdoms to vehicular comparisons, possibly due to the Idea that Down Town was a giant water hole, among other things.
Now back to the Elephant.
I tried to keep away from its speratic movements, but i ended behind it on a red light, then I noticed the reason of its random driving. Inside his vehicle had several LCD screens playing adult entertainment, and not the kind you would find in an Opera, or Circus but ones you discover underneath your uncles reading glasses and bowel of cereal (my uncle sucked at hiding them).
The shock was not the idea that the man was possibly doing his deed while driving (although it should have been), but what the video aired.
"Kabuki Bukkake" and stared several Filipina women.

This angered me.
No, not the exploitation of women, or the poor guy this driver would eventually pay to 'Detail/Clean' his Elephants interior unaware of the surprise that lies ahead.
No, its this:
Filipinos marketing themselves as other nationalities.

I dated this girl, and in one of our conversations regarding the class we took earlier in the college semester, she regarded herself 'Asian'. I had no problem with this, but the problem did occur on what she said afterwards which to summaries was this:
1/8=Chinese 1/4=Japanese, some French, and Filipino.

It blew me away.
First off... was that even mathematically possible?
secondly, i asked her, "when growing up, did your parents call it an 'Egg Roll' or 'Lumpia' ?" she said "Lumpia"
"THEN YOU’RE FREAKIN FILIPINO!"

Lets just say the date ended with no Kabuki love....
Being a Filipino is a Dying Breed due to our desire to fit in the box of world culture, and finding something to anchore us with something outside of who we really are. Is it ignorance of our own history? Is it the shame of our culture? Or possibly the submitting to white America in classifying us cuz were too lazy to classify ourselves?

World of Logic

The fear of the unknown is something most of us don’t dwell on.
I mean c'mon!
That’s borderline insanity, fearing something that isn’t really there...yet.

When I was younger, before my Abs betrayed me by rounding out and how I was but a little boy trying my handles on love but evolving now with love handles, i didn’t care for much.

I went with my 'gut' instincts thinking of my invulnerability toward harsh realities and bending chances with my tenacious charm.

O how i miss the times of jumping toward the unknown and knowing that somewhere down the cliff there would be nets to meet me laced with beautiful women as they salivated on my boyish endurance and drive.

But now....
A dark cloud of security, (no pun intended) and a vest filled with pudgy responsibility.
Uncle Sam demands his Debts, while siblings/children demands for their Love Debts.

That net is no longer there; the women are now cursed with bad relationships and are ruined for their next ones.

"Welcome to the world of logic" a long crooked nosed white boy named Bennet said as he picked up what’s left of his dignity reading the newest 'Styles' magazine, his pear shaped figure walks away thinking he is better off being aware of the screw job that is our existence.

Shall i take another Leap?
Will there still be a net if incase don’t make it?

"Welcome to the world of Logic"

The Tabo Taboo

If a person from the 1950's were to fast forward to see the future of our present, one can only imagin his knee jerk response. Possibly a temporal opening in his neather regions and letting loose his already fossilized excrement, or even a simple strangilation of the nearest woman within reaching distance due to old socially 'Acceptible' habbits of 'Wife Disiplining'.





After the shock of the witnessing the wonders of the world wide web, plastic vehicles, and instant ramen, he (lets call him Scott) would need to use the restroom to clean himself off (do note the fact that he must try to avoid the instant cleaning restrooms in the cities, the poor guy would probaly pull out his pubic hair out of amaizment).





Suddenly, something framiliar. The trusty toilet.





You see Toilets and the whole restroom expreience has not been updated and is being left behind in the dust, shows how much we (as a sociaty) really care about cleanslyness.


The savage wiping with a peace of soft paper, smearing and rubbing.


It would be safe to compair the action with... lets say cleaning oily car rimms with a dry towel. You wipe, smear and use alot of elbow grease to a satisfactory clear, but the damn thing is still dirty without water and soap.





Comming from the Philippenes as a child i felt the same way Scott would have felt with technology, but its failure was my amaizment was my one step up of the evolutionary scale.

Yea, the Tabo. The advantage of the Pinoy and proof that we are far more civilized in a culture valuing cleansliness and simplicity (not like those silly japs with their expencive 'sprinklers' in there toilet seats). Once you go Tabo, you should never look back.

Courtyard Noir: "Ninjacking"

Typing down ideas that stick to my head like a bugger flung accidentaly at the dashboard of my car, i usualy write what cannot be said.....
a few days ago i saw another dead body at my work.I was called in and "Take Care" of the situation.what else can i do? so i covered all the basics.

1) poke the body (not sure why but the animal inside me forced my hand)

2) Talk out loud (now i was alone with the damn thing and if felt fitting to narrate what i would do with this lifeless figure, sudden images of a cheap 1930's Noir murder movie started to creap in on my mind, which lead me to 3)

3) Investigate(yea this was probably the funnest part.... sucks that it was a no brainer answer with a bag of pills and smell of urine comming from his neather regions, kinda robbed the fun away actualy.)


After a while i was informed that the cops is on my way up to meet me in a few short minuites, in my mind i suddenly felt the urge of whiping out my pistol (if i had one) and take his fance laptop and cash and attempt to make a daring escape.Its a good thing i had sleep that day.

Riko Vs. Yoga

In my life there are life experiences that occur daily, hourly, and mili-sec-ly. I travel in a different time field only adhering to the Sun and Work.
This will prove to be an account of my battle in a smoldering room filled with bodily excrement.

Wed. 16, Jan 08
2000hrs--- (that's 8:00pm stupid)

I went with Terry Jennifer Williams, (don't let the "Jennifer" fool you, if, god forbid, you ever cross this man, expect waking up the next day with your testicles wrapped in a rubber band, and saline fluid leading out of you), Querivin, (a woman that does not know the word "Cant") and myself (yea, the narrator) arrived at the:
"Bikram Yoga" building in Berkley C.A.

Possibly the Bay Area night air caused the leap from a nice 53 degrees weather jump to 110 degrees created a crazy reaction in my mind water cuz upon entering I thought I saw Odin (the Norse god) pass out on the "Yoga" room floor.
This Experience may prove to be difficult, if the sign of a lower deity collapsing on the sheer heat/work out allowing us mere mortals to Tea Bag the god, what chance have I ?

Onward I pressed, finding a nice spot on the room to lay my Yoga mat, trying to ignore the temperature and not let this Dhalsim training beat me, the number one goal is to not leave the room in the 90min of the session (later on I thought that goal was like telling the village whore to hand me a clean pair of underwear)
As you would guess, the 3 of us did our stretches, and dips, and breath controls, (though the toughest part of the 3 moves were really the breath controls, imagine trying to breath Out slowly then In the supposed good air that smells like Forrest Gumps Socks after the years of running). I was able to keep up showing the rest of the group how a real man does Yoga, and Terry J. Williams was doing his thing, nudging the now dead Odin god out of his way so that he can get in to the next position, trying not to shower anyone in close proximity with the sweat fluids he was oozing out of his every pore hole to the general masses of..... yogi? (Is that how you call its practitioners?)

After the 90 min. of the Bikram Yoga class we were able to go to the locker room (clean and colorful, felt like home, if home were filled with 18 naked hairy men with a centimeter thick towel separating them and the glory that is me) and left the building, hoping to somehow regain the electrolytes I lost in on of the instructors.

Found in the arms of 'Nations' (also located conveniently nearby).

All in all,
RIKO-1 YOGA-0 I WIN