The Missus Chronicles #3: 15 Minutes

I was listening to Mellow 94.7 and heard about this show they do, Desert Island Disc. Basically the idea is you send in a list of songs you would take with you if you were marooned on a desert island. If I was going to be a jerk about it, I would say - "If I knew I was going to be stuck in a desert island ahead of time, I would bring a satellite phone, a GPS homing device, a raft, etc." But I'm always game for hypothetical situations, so I sent them an email with my songs and a long with a brief message. It got picked and Chloe read it on their show April 15, 2008 with some side commentaries from her and Chris. They sent me back a message before the day so I had a chance to prepare and record the segment. Here's a recording of the show where I cut out all the songs and just left in the stuff where they were reading my email. And who else would I pick-on aside from the missus? No one really. Check it out:


You can also listen or download through this link (5.61 MB).

I was hoping this was going to be my big break. But it has been a week now and no one has stopped me on the street to ask for my autograph and Hugh Hefner hasn't called with an offer to pose for Playboy. I guess that 15 minutes of fame isn't what it used to be.

The Missus Chronicles #2: Mrs. Evil

I hate wires. So you can just imagine what nightmare computers are, especially if you have a few peripherals. Keyboard, mouse, power cords, external drives, network cables, etc they just drive me crazy when they get tangled. I go on a rant when the missus moves the laptop to another part of the house and the cables get tangled when I use it. Naturally she's annoyed by it. So yesterday when we had to move the laptop, she gave me all the cables and said "Here, you connect them, you're going to kill me again if I mess up.", which is a funny way of saying what she wanted to say. Having the juvenile mind that I do, I turn to her and said "I knew it! I suspected it all this time! You're my evil arch rival disguised as a woman and tricked me into marrying you! Ha! I have uncovered your evil and elaborate scheme for revenge! You shall not succeed! I have defeated you before and I can do it again!"

The Missus Chronicles #1: The Blind Milkshake

The missus was cleaning out the closet under our stairs. That's where we keep old shoes, boxes, dead bodies, and other miscellaneous things we don't often use in the house. When I got home, the missus told me that I had several pairs of old shoes we should just get rid of.

missus: Let's just give them away. The only problem is that we don't know anyone who has feet as big as yours.

me: We could have a yard sale. I already have a jingle in mind. It goes like this:

My shoes bring all the boys to the yard.
And they're like, bigger than yours
Damn right, bigger than yours
I can fit you but I would have to charge.

I start laughing, she isn't.

me: What? You don't know Milkshake?

She gives me a blank look.

missus: Milkshake?

me: Never mind.

She resumes her rant.

missus: I had a hell of a time moving out all your shoes. They're heavy as hell. I never really appreciated why people ask you to take off your shoes when you get on a weighing scale until now. Ordinary people would have to take off a couple of pounds for their clothes and shoes when they get on a scale. You would probably have to take off half a dozen pounds.

me: Quit it. Besides, now that you mention it, it's probably the only heavy lifting I ever do.

I was playing around with a fancy pen someone gave me while we were having this conversation. I liked the way it felt as I used it to write. I have awful penmanship. I was writing down random things trying my best to write nicely. I wrote down the following:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
if you were reading this, and didn't know any better
you'd think I was blue.

The missus looks over my shoulder, read what I was writing down. She takes my pen from me, crosses out the word 'blue' and replaces it with the word 'blind'. She laughs hysterically.

*sigh* Some people run and hide from their bullies. I apparently married mine.

1st Anniv: Crack Shot, Cracked Voice

Today is the first anniversary of this blog (yey!). There have been a few title iterations, the first one was Pitik Blog (baduy!), then Kastilyong Buhangin, and now Pinoy Pie. And just because, here's a link to the first post.

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Blogger introduced a new feature last month: video uploading. When you want to put an original video on your blog, you don't have to go through a third party service such as YouTube, you can directly upload on Blogger. Very cool, so of course, I felt obligated to use it. The following video is my first time in a live shooting range.



I guess all that money spent shooting plastic ducks and toy soldiers paid off. So don't mess with me. I keep a gun in the car. I don't have a license to carry a firearm, so it's a water pistol for now. To make it more lethal, I have filled it with soap water. You hassle me, I'll shoot you in the eye. Believe me, it's gonna hurt. Maybe it's not too late to change careers. I always wanted to be a cop. It shouldn't be hard to transition. I already have the body type of the average Manila policeman.

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Warning, the following paragraph contains several references to undesirable bodily gas emanations.

My darling wife, who tolerates my burping during meals, who can stand me farting in the car with the windows rolled up, and who can give me a kiss even with morning breathe - draws the line at my singing. I always thought I was a bad singer, but never really appreciated how bad until now. To think that once upon a time, someone actually asked me to sing a duet on stage.

I Love You Like A Fat Kid Loves Cake

Update: For all things "i love you like a fat kids loves cake" click here. If you came through a search engine, that's probably where you want to be.

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Geez, no new post for more than 2 weeks. I'm slipping.

I just realized that I have some form of subconscious obsession with bread and pastries. I was going through previous post and I found that several of them talked about such things:

• Weeding Out the Stupid
  
• Donut Expect
  
• The Donut Journals (Day 6)
• The Lone Donut Motel
• Better Than Sliced Bread
• Easy As Pie
• Delusions of Grandeur and Meat Pies

Quite a strange discovery since consciously, I'm not too fond of bread or pastries. I'd rather have my hotdog on a stick and make it a Salisbury steak rather than a burger. I’m also not big on pastries or pies either. I'll eat it if it's given to me (true for almost anything edible), but I would rarely order one for myself. Speaking of steaks, look what the missus made for dinner last night. It should give you an idea why I'm fat - I mean weight challenged.

Weeding Out the Stupid

Ever since I first had a sandwich in a restaurant, I always thought it was stupid to serve it with a toothpick stuck in the middle. What if you didn't notice the thing was in there? Somehow, the missus and I got into a discussion about it. I probably brought it up.

Missus: They put toothpicks in there so that when they slice it, it doesn't fall apart.

Me: That's actually smart but why leave it in there when they serve it? There's a toothpick dispenser on the table, I'll pick up a fresh one if I need it.

Missus: Because when they serve the sandwich, it can still fall apart. The toothpick holds it together and it also make it easy to pick it up when you're ready to eat it.

Me: I'd rather risk my sandwich falling apart than getting stabbed in the roof of my mouth with a toothpick.

The missus rolls her eyes exasperated.

Missus: Now you’re just being argumentative.

Me: No, I’m not.

Yes, I am.

Missus: It's really simple – take out the toothpick before biting into your sandwhich.

I was a blank on a good comeback. So I just auto-fired...

Me: You take it out!

The missus becomes silent and gives me the dreaded look. To distract her from eating me alive, I talk.

Me: What if people don't see it? What then? Is this some kind of conspiracy to weed off the stupid? "Let's put toothpicks in sandwiches to kill off people stupid enough to bite into one without checking for sharp objects." Conclusion: The stupid die off, leaving the smart people to breed and multiply.

Missus: Exactly. So be careful when eating those sandwiches.

Success! I live another day.

Me: You’re not going to start putting toothpicks in your sandwiches, are you?

Missus: Well, weeding out the stupid sounds good to me. I should do my part.

Me: Hahaha (*nervous laugh*), stupid people beware.

Missus: Just keep checking those sandwiches and you’ll be all right.

Okay, okay, I might have enhanced the original discussion a bit. But it remains faithful to the essence of the story - I never win an argument with the missus.

Donut Expect

The donut was still here when I arrived Tuesday morning, which would be day 11. It was gone when I came back from lunch. I hope somebody ate it, as is the destiny of every donut. I wonder what an 11-day-old donut tastes like. Not that I would want one. I was really rooting for it to be left alone until it grew legs and walked away on its own. Ah well, so ends the plight of our sugar frosted little friend. Dough you are gone, you are not forgotten.

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When I got home Wednesday, Feb. 14, I greeted the missus a Happy Valentine's and gave her a kiss and a hug. There was a paused and we looked into each other's eyes for a second or two and I said... "You're not expecting anything are you?" Yup, I'm a hopeless romantic. She's so lucky to have me.

Blog Interrupted

Last week was a good week. The missus had her birthday last week and she wanted to go bowling. So bowling it was. Some people would go skydiving on their birthday or something like that, but that is so passé :) Bowling is the new skydiving, for the sake of this post at least.

It was fun, specially since I won. The missus would claim it was a draw, but I had a bigger accumulated score, so I won.

The missus: uhm.....don't believe a word he prints!

See, in some cultures it would be considered rude to interrupt someone typing. Don't ask me which culture, I just know there are some out there.

The missus: Not in this house!

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get an internet connection at home or at least to be blogging at home. Before she would only read my entries after I post them, not while I type them. Besides, I've been online so much this weekend I think my brain has turned to goo. I think I can hear sloshing in my head.

As I was saying, before being rudely interrupted, I won. Birthday or no birthday, fact is fact.

The missus: Sympathy votes for the missus! He's being mean...again!

I think people are generally more discerning than that. Plus, I'm not mean, I'm nice.

The missus: ooooo so defensive

I think someone should get their own blog :p I think I'll end it here before people are witness to a full on domestic event. Kidding! I love the missus (translate: I hate sleeping on the couch)! And just to remind the missus: