The Great Popularity Contest.

What is it about people being set on fire that always gets the news' attention more than a more than one person being blown up (regardless of cause?)

Either way, I've stumbled on two disgustingly similar articles today, one a heartbreaker and the other very humorous (were it not for aforementioned heartbreaker.)

The first (CNN) is of a 5-year-old boy set on fire and horribly disfigured by insurgents in Iraq.

The second (Reuters) is of a Russian woman setting fire to her ex-husband's genitalia.

That both made the top of the "most popular" articles on their respective news agencies' sites has got to say something as negative about the sites they're on as much as it does about the people involved. Much more for the first than the second.

And that's why we can't have nice things.

I've got ADS.

Not this, dumbshit.

So if you look to the right of this page, you'll see some Google AdSense ads. Yes, I chose to put them up there because I need the money. But I technically cannot ask or encourage you, the few who bother to read this, to click it.

Anyhoo, this afternoon I had nothing to do (school got rained out again!) so I decided to tag along with my bros to the Ayala Museum downtown. Will post some pics once the PSP's done recharging.

Humans are filthy creatures.

This pretty much sums it up.

So last night I was finishing up my last lab shift for the week and I like to do my extra bit by picking up the usual array of litter that these lazy bastards in "Hotel and Restaurant Institution Management" tend to leave around. One of the more common items are Mentos wrappers, as well as tissue paper. It's enrollment week so people left their notepads where they jot down their optimum schedules. Since Wednesday and Thursday got rained out, the enrollment period is extended until next Wednesday, and I'll have a shift on Monday.

This week however was extra frustrating as Friday's free-slotters were extra dirty. If I hadn't forgotten my camera I would've taken a picture of the haul, which could fit inside a medium-sized Tupperware tray. WHICH I ALSO FOUND. At least the outside of the tray was clean so I could pile all the stuff in it (the inside had some residue of some unidentifiable white stuff that looked to have been spatula-ed or spooned out). I also managed to find a broken click-pen that could still write.

At least I can sleep in pretty much all of today...and I managed to download this free MMO called Audition Online which has these really catchy hip-hop tunes...though I'm really more fond of that power ballad. It's very Bust-A-Groove though there is a DDR-style thing called "BeatUp!" mode if you're lucky to find that room.

Man...the life of a reptile gets pretty dull.

Hotel and Restaurant Institution Management my tail.

Fruit Punch Blood

Putting all preconceived racial notions aside, that's a rather interesting way to think of what my (metaphorical) blood would be if nations could be assigned different "flavors." I'm not going to assign each nation a specific flavor, but you might get the idea of what I'm talking about at the end.

My mom once told me that somewhere high up my line is a Portuguese friar. Now, the friars in this country probably sired entire cities (if not towns) full of their offspring during the colonial period, but Portuguese? Then again, if Magellan was a Portuguese who could sail for Spain...than... nah. That's too fucked up to consider.

So speaking of my mom, she's given a mention for being descended from one of the branches of the Montemayor clan (at least from a book detailing the clan's history) though her born surname is Buendia, essentially making her descended from lots of Spanish/mestizo influence. Fine.

On the contrary, my dad's family side appears to be indio, which would be "normal" had his ancestry not included some rather notable figures of the Philippine Revolution such as Gregoria De Jesus (who married Andres Bonifacio but later ended up married to), Julio Nakpil and Maximo Viola, the Freemason reputed to have published Jose Rizal's famous Noli Me Tangere.

So not only do we have Spanish and Filipino Revolutionary heritage clashing in Spanish, Portuguese, indigenous Filipino, Chinese and maybe some Italian blood (Viola sounds pretty Italian to me), but it's all giftwrapped in American citizenship.

Hence, Fruit Punch Blood. With extra saccharine.

Imagine that!