I heart Bear Grylls *the baddest survivalist ever*

Bear Grylls

Bear Grylls is the host of TV’s Man Vs. Wild, a show almost completely centered around him parachuting into the harshest climates on the planet, chopping down trees with a butter knife, building homemade flotation devices out of bamboo shoots and shoelaces and then slaughtering two-thirds of the indigenous species of that particular region using only his bare hands and his teeth. 

Bear got his start whomping balls in the British SAS, which is pretty much one of the most badass military units to ever strap on steel-tipped boots and kick terrorists square in the junksack.  He was trained in survival, mountaineering, parachuting and hand-to-hand asskicking by the most hardcore drill sergeants this side of Full Metal Jacket and served actively in a bunch of crazy fucking black ops shit right out of a Chuck Norris movie, until all of a sudden one day his parachute ripped in half while he was plummeting to Earth and he ended up breaking his spine in fifteen places and having his legs eaten by rabid lions.  Bear was so badass though, that he ended up knifing the lions to death with a rusty shiv and re-attaching his legs using only a pocketknife and a couple vines tied into perfect sqare knots.  Since the SAS has this crazy policy where they don’t employ dudes with broken backs, they let Bear go off into the wild on his own.  Within two years he had miraculously rehabilitated himself to the point where he became the youngest British dude to ever summit Mount Everest.  After that he went off and put himself through three months of basic training in the middle of the Sahara Desert for the French Foreign Legion just for fun.  Once he sufficiently proved the size of his enormous nuts to the French dudes, he decided it was time to start up Man Vs. Wild and prove to the rest of the world that he was the most hardcore motherfucker to ever punch a rattlesnake in the mouth.

Now Man Vs. Wild is ostensibly a program designed “to show you how to survive in the wild” by teaching you all sorts of insane fucking survival techniques.  In actuality, the show is more or less “look at how fucking awesome I am”, because Bear Grylls does all sorts of superhuman insane shit that no other human being on the planet should ever be able to accomplish.

 

Two things strike me as being totally balls-out about Bear Grylls.  First off, the man will eat fucking anything.  He’ll bite the heads off of live rodents and insects, he’ll chow down on crazy shit like pirahnas, tarantualas and rusty thumbtacks… fuck, the dude once drank an entire water bottle filled with his own piss in an effort to stay hydrated in the middle of the goddamned Australian Outback.  It doesn’t get more hardcore than shotgunning your own urine.  It’s like the Holy Grail of Survivalism - you either have the nuts to do it or you die an excruciatingly painful death by dehydration.  Secondly, the dude has a climbing ability the likes of which make The Amazing Spider-Man look like the fucking last kid up the rope in gym class.  He’ll be standing there looking at a cliff face that better resembles a pane of sheet glass than it does a rock wall, and he’ll just be like, “no problem, I’ll just climb up this fucking wall and get out of the canyon”, and shimmy up the wall with about as much difficulty as it takes a regular person to tie their shoes.  It’s so awesome that it borders on retarded.

Another sweet thing about Bear is that his answer to everything is to just suck it up and do some fucking pushups like a real man.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve just fallen face-first into freezing cold water, jumped into a pool of molten magma or had your arm bitten off by a polar bear - as long as you do some goddamned pushups you’ll be fucking fine.  Stop being a baby, walk it off, and get going.  He also doesn’t give a shit about putting himself in life-threatening situations purely for the enjoyment of his viewers.  At least once per episode he does some stupid-ass thing like purposefully jumping into a vat of quicksand, leaping off a thirty foot cliff into a pool of glacial water, getting himself trapped underneath some ice or showing you how to survive if an alligator tries to chomp down on your head or something.

Bear also proves something that a lot of people tend to forget - that humans are the most badass motherfucking animals on the planet.  A lot of humans tend to “get soft” by living up the cushy city life, but it’s nice to see guys like Bear getting out there and showing the fucking animal kingdom that we’re still the toughest bastards around.  He kills a rabbit by sharpening a stick into a point and chucking it with enough force to dent sheet metal, he builds a bow and arrow out of bamboo and skewers pirahnas with it, he beats trout to death with his bare hands, he can make fire just by rubbing his hands together really fast and yelling and he can build rafts and shit out of things that theoretically shouldn’t actually even be able to float.  Darwin would be proud.

Basically, Bear Grylls is totally fucking sweet to the max and Man Vs. Wild is one of those shows that puts hair on your chest every time you watch it.  He’s the ultimate survivalist, a tough-as-nails adventurer, and the sort of guy who can walk up to Mother Nature herself and give her a right proper bitch-slap across the face.

Christ,battle of the sexes

   I read a bulletin about the oh-so-suffering of guys and girls,come a relationship (post and pre). It came from both sides,so its biased.

   The only opinion i have about it is to be mature,try to understand the art of equalizing a relationship,know your roles (as per gender)and know (or at least try to;you can talk it over anyways)where you stand in your relationship.  Also, know your limitations, your perfections and otherwise, always think through what you’re about to do and what you have done.  Never kang susumbat bigla,isipin mo muna kung anung nangyari on both sides,if you only think about your right and the others’ wrong,you’re not going to solve anything.

    Sure there’s always bias, di naman mawawala yun, the best solution talaga is good communication with your partner.  Differnces are always gonna be there,it’s inevitable.

    Besides,if one keeps bitching about the other,then what’s the whole point of being in a relationship or even wanting one?

Geez,crazy kids.

Welcome to the world of the unemployed.

After four gruelling years of busting our asses (well, not alwyas =p) in college, we’ve finally reached the moment we’ve all been waiting and working for: GRADUATION. Now that we’re done with it, we have to start busting our asses now looking for jobs and thinking,"am i gonna get in, am i gonna get in?" Good grief. Now I understand why some people don’t actually wanna leave college! But hey,t’least I can say I’m a degree holder now! HAHAHAHA! World of unemployed, here I come! *whoooooooshhhhhhhh!!!!!!*

hypocrite,that’s the word that’s looking for me.

     I wasn’t planning to start this entry with a heaping dose of ego, but here it goes: I’ve always had a way with words, i mean expressing it written or oral. Sometimes it just comes and I write (ehem,type) it down and sometimes, it’s forced (like an essay or a report). But nonetheless, I have a way with words. The problem is though, when these ‘words’ i spit out start emulating my emotions, it doesn’t come out as clear as my other ‘wordly’ works. Okay, confused much? Lemme put it more bluntly. I have this thing of (pretty much) invalidating the things I say. Prior to my previous entries where I have either said I’m scared of commitment or am looking for my L-word, still here I am, now, in a relationship (and I outline it in red too). I’m  not saying it’s a bad thing, quite the contrary actually. But to those who I’ve preached to about the horrors of being in a relationship, given the chance, they’d strangle me and chant: Hypocrite. I know I also have an anomalous association with hypocrisy, but c’mon, everyone’s a hypocrite in their own ways (don’t even try defense people!) So bottomline, L-word is the word I’m looking for (uh,found?) and Hypocrisy is the word that’s haunting me.

The L-word.My own demon.

** this is the most personal crap here yet.shield your eyes. **

      I think my lovelife, or lustlife, as I’d prefer to call, it is cursed.  Cursed by those stupid love chain shit that the shoddy internet is spewing, either that or my dad cursed me.  I don’t necessarily believe the chain stuff, I mean, who does?  It’s all in the mind and the person who controls their lives. But I’m starting to think someone else is pulling the strings here.  Here I am, 20, and still no serious relationship to speak of.  Not that I want one in a snap, but it’s just that I think I should have one or I should have HAD one, in the least.  C’mon, 15year olds are already claiming that they’ve been in love or had experienced it, and here I am, still looking for the meaning of that oh-so-elusive L-word!!!

     I dunno if it’s because (a.) i don’t treat guys seriously, (b.)they don’t treat me seriously, (c.) I haven’t found that person,yadda,yadda,yadda or (d.) I’m too cynical/pessimistic to give it a chance.  Some say I’m scared to commit, agreeable at times, especially when I enter something that ends badly.  But isn’t it usually gut instinct that tells us when love is love and not love-lust?  Or you just kind of realize that you’ve been with a guy longer than your set expiry date, and that’s when you realize you’re in love with that person.  Hmm..maybe my gut instinct has short-circuited or my expiry dates just get shorter and shorter. 

     I guess, the reason why I’m scared to commit is because I’m really afraid.  Reason? I’ve hooked up with guys who don’t bother to hide their slob and treat girls horribly (dun worry,i made damn sure they got theirs…ha!) and I have heard waaaaaay too many testosterone induced stories of my guy friends’ …ehemm…"multi-tasking" (and dig this,they’re in "serious" relation-blahs themselves!).  THAT"S why. I guess.  But I’ve yet to have professional help or opinion.  I guess I’ve just witnessed too many playing-arounds (guilty!) that it makes my level of trust a little more shorter than others.  I mean, it’s hard for me to like, give myself when there’s that fear that when I do, I’m gonna get screwed! (not THAT screwed,perv) In short,I guess I’m scared of karma.  I know,I’ve not been that girl you’d bring home to mom, and I know I’ve broken a few hearts here and there (that was UNINTENTIONAL I SWEAR!) and of course, I wish that I could undo some of the things I did, but I also had a reason.  I was just looking out for myself.  If that behavior is to be saluted as feminism, fine, but just keep it in moderation, coz, whichever way we put it, girls are still more emotional than guys and girls still have a harder time recovering from emotional blows. (unless you’re extremely skilled in numbing yourself)

   So in conclusion (mine, at least =) the reason why I’m still ignorant about the L-word is coz I’m scared of it’s consequences, I’m scared to trust too much and I’m scared to compromise my freedom and other single-girl-just-hooking-up advantages. But I know, eventually, I’ll be able to strip off this tough cookie facade and get there.

    "Love like you’ve never been hurt."  I really oughta listen to that.

The 5 centavo coin that got me home.

     Ever checked in your coin purse only to find that all you have left are those annoying 10 and 5 centavo coins? Well, I have, and yes, I used to be annoyed by it (operative words: used to). Though I have nothing against them and don’t throw them away, I never thought them to be necessary as they only add extra weight and jangle to your purse. It’s actually my mom who puts them in my coin stash, like, a coin fairy. But then, my irritation for said coins changed a couple days ago, on my way home when i found out i had absolutely no money left except for the last 6pesos that only alloted me one jeep ride. And I needed two. Short of considering walking all the way home (and believe me,it’s not exactly a walk in the park), I last resort checked my coin purse. Thankfully,there was 4 one-peso coins left and 7 twenty-five cents. I was still short of 25 cents! And since jeep drivers at our place were stingy, i had to pay the whole 6 pesos. I looked some more and found, sure enough, my annoying 10 and 5 cents. As if by some sort of fateful mockery, those annoying coins made up exactly what I lacked for me to get home. Sigh of relief, I didn’t have to walk all that distance home. Thanks to those annoying bronze coins.

     So, the next time you see those coins in your purse and think about throwing it out, think again. It might just give someone else a meal.

     And it just might get you home. =)

The Gay Women’s Association Convention

      Okay, so I haven’t exactly been to one of those yet. But I was just wondering how that would be. Women of different walks of life milling about in some swanky hotel conference room, swapping information and starting the conversation with a little something that sounds like, "Hi,I’m Jane,Bi." and then "Oh,hello,I’m Shiela,strictly lesbian."

     Whoa. That’d be super.

***no offense to gay women of all walks of life (as i am one of them)***

***if you don’t get the humor,don’t bother,you probably never will***

A Great Big Yellow Mustard Stain

     Have you ever seen a mustard stain on a shirt? Or rather have you ever actually experienced getting one? You see that gooey glob of yellowness on your shirt and you think "oh,I’ll get that out later…" only to find out that it’s spread and stuck to your shirt so badly that you don’t even know where to begin removing it anymore.

     There are problems we consider much like a furniture mess and we can see that mess from afar, therefore we’ll know when and how to remove it. Yet, there are problems that are much like mustard; it drips slowly, spreads, sticks and is very, very hard to remove. Sometimes you don’t even know you have one already until it’s too late. When that stain sticks, it’s hard finding a way to wear your shirt again. Then you’ll start thinking somewhere along the lines of: "I should’ve gotten this out sooner"  or "I should’ve seen this earlier". Either ways, you get a " I should have…" mentality. But much like certain problems arises, it’s hard to see when and where it’s gonna come from.

     So until anyone finds a way to stop a mustard stain from occuring or how to get it out, let me know.

Emily

>>> Just can’t reeeezeezzt this song <<<

Emily (From First To Last)

Smiles and her laughter

Its the only thing that I’ve been waiting for all time

Regardless of our distance and our hopes

Coz we’re trapped by pretty eyes and laughter for all time

The only thing that I’ve been waiting for

I hope its something worth the waiting

Its the only thought that I ever felt real

Thunderstorms could never stop me

Coz there’s no one in the world like Emily

She’s simple yet confusing

Her sparkling eyes make me weak and my words they tremble

Days seem like years in this month of December

The winter coldens me for I have yet to sleep

And never will I give up trying coz she’s everything to me

I hope it’s something worth the waiting

Coz it’s the only thought that I ever felt real

Thunderstorms will never stop me

Coz there’s no one in the world like Emily

There’s no one in the world like Emily

Failure by Designer Jeans

I’m a mess of insecurities
Attention starved with a narcissistic twist
Don’t you think that I’m amazing?
Please tell me I’m worth dating
I have every reason not to leave home today

Mirror, mirror, how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures
Mirror, how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures

Please don’t believe my words are lacking honesty
I’ll be the girl you can’t resist
You’ll be the tenth boy on my list
I’ll write your name upon my chest
These less than three’s will never rest
Please don’t believe my words are lacking honesty

Mirror, mirror, how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures
Mirror, how amazing is my figure?
Your visitors they fall apart before my pictures

You’ll be the last boy on my list
action’s just a click away
these things photographs could never say

Please don’t believe my words are lacking honesty