Let His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit show you some pretty pictures.
Jester (Pierre Tito Ga*a in real life) has subscribed me, against my wishes, into that blogger past time of "tagging". Apparently, I'm supposed to divulge "6 Weird Things About Me". This is a shameless attempt on his part to piggyback on my well-loved and critically-acclaimed blog, mainly for the purpose of him getting more hits on his site. Casting aside the obvious animosity and vitriol between us that dates back to high school, I reflected for a moment on the meme.
And I have come to the conclusion that I can't think of anything I do that is considered "Weird". In fact, I'm a little bit disappointed at my lack of otherworldliness. I would have loved to have listed supernatural traits such as:
1. I take a bath in a tub filled with the milk of lactating ferrets at precisely 7:21pm each day while 3 castratos serenade me with April Boy Regino songs.
2. When having sex with my girlfriend, I really like it when she lubricates her strap-on with the saliva of Komodo dragons.
Of course, it may just be a question of semantics, but I read Jester's list and those who had the misfortune of being tagged and not one of them, based on their lists, are weird. Although some of them can give Kris Aquino a run for her money in terms of self-drama and hyperbole. ("Alam mo Tito Boy, muntik akong mamatay at nangailangan ng 12 na duktor dahil nabali ko ang kuko ng hinliliit ko...blah blah".)
Yes, The Nashman is fairly normal.
.......
Speaking of self-drama, I too had my fair share yesterday. I had this craving for goat curry and scoured the vibrant immigrant quarter of Oxbarrio for ingredients. I went to the Moroccan, Kurdish, Indian, Jamaican, and Russian delis but couldn't find the wretched beast. (Well, goat in a Russian deli was unlikely but I did find some bestiality DVDs.) I was about to give up when I saw a man with dreadlocks leaving another grocer. Surely, that last store had goat. Sadly, I was too late. The dreadlocked man took away the last batch of the day. The butcher offered me mutton instead which he said was halal. I told him I also wanted kosher and he assured me that the mutton was circumcised. I looked at the leg of mutton and felt an overpowering but transient guilt that an animal had to die to nourish me. I scheduled myself for confession. Happy that I had faithfully adhered to all the religious dietary requirements of my Abrahamic faith, I took home 2 pounds of mutton...
HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit appraise this year's Oxfordshire ArtsWeek output from the undergrads.
HRO Karl Willem's and PA/PR Gromit's critical opinions are sought after by new artists willing to break into the big league. They can catapult or sink one's career.
Should you be in Oxbarrio for the next two weeks, let HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit show you the highlights from the hundreds of mini-arts exhibits around the Shire. (Remember, Mika was just a lounge singer before HRO Karl Willem spotted his talent.)
Redemption! This is the love!
HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit first marinate the mutton in spices then Stir it up, little darling stir it up into mouthwatering curry... Ganja optional
HRO Karl Willem guards the saffron rice while PA/PR Gromit fries some sweet plantains. (We have to store our saffron in a Swiss bank vault. Some fellow Filipinos might steal our stash, replacing it with kasuba...)
HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit admire their handiwork. With so much trouble in the world, you don't have to wait in vain for some love, let The Nashman cook you up some soul food to lively up yourself. Then, let's turn the lights down low and I'll let you rock my boat...
Okinnas na, nag-imas! Kasla di perst taym mo nga nag-iyot. Malipatam ti nagan ni nanang mo. Umali kayo, mangan tako!