Saturday, December 01, 2007

Squid on the Crunch

You must understand that as a professional writer I am of the greedy, unscrupulous sort. If you wag enough bills in front of my face I will write the vilest, most disgusting piece of offal ever conceived by the mind of a television brainstormer. Most mainstream writers I know retain a modicum of their youth’s artistic principles and so would debase themselves in the worship of Mammon only low enough as to be able to feed themselves and their families but not any lower. I, on the other hand, am known for my mercenary disposition. Now if you think that’s a bluff, let me introduce you to an abomination I sired in my avarice; a wretched thing so loathsome my friends bring it up in parties to embarrass me:



In case your mind is reeling at the hellish spectacle of this Lovecraftian horror, it’s the original PBB Housemates in a pocketbook called Pinoy Big Brother True Horror Stories. Curse the cruel gods that gave you sight as you pluck out your eyes if you must-- however much you punish your body, though, nothing you do can match the defilement to which I had to subject the temple of my flesh in the process of begetting this howling filth.

And so I plod on in my whoredom, which is the reason why I haven’t been blogging much lately. Come to think of it, I haven’t been doing much of anything else lately except beat script deadlines. My PS2 is growing moss in my living room, I have a ton of unread books slowly being devoured by silverfish on my bedside table, and I’ve forgotten what a movie looks like. Right now I have about a hundred script sequences to finish and that begs me to ask: why am I here writing this post for your entertainment? I'm on a crunch of sorts so screw your entertainment-- I have to go back to work.

As a consolation, though, let me leave you with this little story my college buddy Carlo wrote:

Once, there lived a guy named Randy. He was a bohemian, with long, black hair and glasses. He worked as a writer for a television station. One weekend, being stressed out from work, he decided to go fishing. He caught nothing the whole day and was ready to pack his things up when something bit his line. He reeled it in and saw that it was a magnificent fish, about a foot long and covered with golden scales. To Randy’s amazement, the fish spoke to him. The fish told him that if he, Randy, released the fish back into the lake, he would get three wishes. Randy, being a kind hearted young (relatively speaking) man, released the fish back into the lake. The fish kept its promise and asked Randy from the lake what his first wish was. Randy answered that he wanted material wealth. Suddenly, Randy felt something in his pocket. When he pulled it out, he saw that it was a bankbook in his name with a billion USD in it. The fish asked for his second wish. Randy asked for an end to world conflict. A newspaper appeared at his feet and when he picked it up, he saw that there was already world peace. The fish asked for Randy’s third wish. He asked for someone that would love him for what he was. The fish then said goodbye and swam to the depths of the lake. He heard footsteps behind him and when he turned around, he saw the love of his life and they lived happily ever after.


Carlo, because I am your friend I feel compelled to tell you to stop smoking crack. Also, who the fuck is Randy? That is by far the gayest name I’ve ever come across in this here the internet.

7 comments:

  1. damnit, i misread the title...i thought it was "crunchy squid", now I'm hungry...

    but that little fairy tale (?) is sweet :D

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  2. Not it's not! It's a feverish hallucination brought about by narcotics! Shame on you for supporting my friend's crack addiction!

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  3. Aggggh! My eyes! I must bleach my eyes! Heheheheh. :)

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  4. Laugh if you will but that shameless piece of crap helped put food on my table, glitch.

    ...

    That sounds kinda like what a granny porn director would say too.

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