old man hrudu.

My birthday is the 200th day of the year (201st on leap years), which was a week ago.  I’ve noticed that the last 3-5 years have gone by seemingly faster than usual.  (And they have!)

My cousin explains this … phenomena as “relativity.”  Put simply, having more years in relation to the number of hours a day makes the previously-big measures seem shorter.  (I think.)

So, 24-years-old::24 hours a day.  I now have a year in relation to each hour that a day has.  Couple that with EVERYTHING I’ve ever experienced and it makes most things feel like they aren’t “new” anymore.  Solution?  New experiences!  24 down, 476 to go.  :p

Anyway, some things:

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As it would turn out, a way to make post-birthdays just plain sad is hanging out with your own kind.  In this case, two senior citizens ranting about their failing love affairs with younger women.  )

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Nothing perks up a workplace more than a sale, or maybe a coupla pizzas. 

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I ate a horse!  Well, in tapsilog form, thanks to new-office-champ Vlad.  Dongalo in Parañaque — it took me hours to get home!

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Thanks to Drei + Ven, my potential for ultraviolence has increased two-fold.  Thanks for the awesome gift!

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No matter what age you are, YOUWILLNEVERBETOOOLD for ice cream and cake.  And Coke!  NEVER.

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Also, I ran out of things to say.

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No matter how you hide, SOMEONE will know it’s your birthday.  Thanks, beautiful people!

magicsung’d.

Scenes from last Friday — beer, sangria, A LOT OF COKE, 16 boxes of pizza, kick-your-ass-with-the-desserty-flavor jello shots, other assorted snacks, awesome officemates, a small tv and magicsing.  Embarassing photos (of me) to follow.  :p

Happy birthday, Loes + Tricia! 

[Made with the ever-win BigHugeLabs' Mosaic Maker.]

happy birthday, you a.k.a. when will hrudu get tired of the effect?

While everyone’s scrambling in the US because of the elections, it’s Yna’s birthday!  Since I have this new favorite effect in Photoshop, I applied it to an old doodle from MCP class.  (2006, yow!)  I’ll probably retire it after this one. 

Happy Birthday, Yna!

(Doodled on paper, tweaked in Photoshop, now with 59% more crumpling!)

happy birthday, you.

(Advanced) Happy Birthday Jaimee!  Because it’d still be the 29th from where you are.

(P.S.  I love this picture of you … it’s so … me.)

there is a light that never goes out.

Happy Birthday, Jess!

a semi-charmed oktoberfest, yow.

Last night, beer enthusiasts (plus mga tambay sa kanto) flocked the Ortigas area for the opening of this year’s 120 days of Oktoberfest.

For some reason, by around 8:30, they (the gatekeepers) decided that there were already too many people inside, and they simply stopped letting people in.  Even people who had tickets weren’t allowed in, or if ever they did, they had trouble squeezing in through the sweat-shield-covered crowd.

Several shouts of protest has turned the group mentality from eagerly-in-line to the-people-versus-the-organizers.  They even popped a hole in the giant SMB beer bottle balloon thing.  (As it deflated, it fell on several people’s heads lol)

Then, some godless-fucks from behind shouted, “1, 2, 3, PUUUUUUUSSSSSSHHHHH!”  

Everyone had to push along in order not to get trampled.  Rainwater that had collected on top of the registration tent splashed all over my right arm.  (Stagnant water, yow)  I held on to a bit of railing while knees, elbows and heads hit me all over.

It was at that point that a police van and a firetruck drove in to stop the riot-waiting-to-happen. 

I feared that they might start hosing us down, I mean, isn’t it enough that mosquitoes can now lay eggs on my stagnant-water-soaked sleeve?  

A big burly security man started ordering everyone to back.the.fuck.up, drill-sergeant style — when they didn’t listen, he hopped on over from the street to the line, and then started going ballistic.  With a baton.  Shouting profanities (you know, the one with a mother?) to intimidate the retreating masses.

I walked to a 711, bought several cans of Pale Pilsen and started having my own Oktoberfest opening by the El Pueblo area.  (As everything in proximity was filled to capacity.)

Since Drei and Ven were already inside, and I had little chance of getting in, I decided to wait it out … by the small island near El Pueblo.

By chance, I saw Ryu, a friend of mine, and, as it turned out, his girlfriend July was a promo girl by the Oktobrew tent.  We waited for another friend of ours, Tippi, then we headed for the tent.  

We got to meet the host, and was let in.  (Lucky!)

The tent was airconditioned and very, very spacious — the food area was at the far end, a darts section by the left, the beer station smack dab in the middle and a live projector by the right, so that people could follow what was happening at the main stage.  

Several tables told drinking stories via empty beer bottles.  The special Oktoberfest limited edition brew was being sold at 50-bucks a pop — and also, everytime you get one, you get to play a game of darts, at which Tippi showed off his surprising ability of always hitting the bullseye.  (He won me a shirt.)

Third Eye Blind started playing at around 11(?) — they premiered 2 new songs (here in the Philippines, yow!) from the upcoming fourth album, then finished off with mostly older songs — the ones I remember from highschool.  (They rawk!)

They even threw in Nelly lyrics in there — “Must be the money!”

As of 12 AM of September 6, Ryu officially turned 24, so he suggested that we all go dancing, or something of the sort after.

First, we had to make a quick stop to bring Jona (July’s promo girl friend) home, and then we hit up one of their favorite haunts.  We arrived far too late (2:30 AM) to hit up several places — either people were already leaving, drunk, or just plain sad.  So we decided to get a meal instead, Ryu’s treat.

After eating, I hailed a cab and asked to get taken to Junction.  We made a conversation out of the drunken yahoos who were also from Oktoberfest, and traffic, and our favorite beers.  The cab driver asked, “san pa ang punta mo boy? / where are you still headed to?”  I told him, “Antipolo.”  

Without saying a word, he turned off the meter and proceeded driving.  Turns out his taxi’s garage was in Antipolo!  He dropped me off near the house and looked confused when I handed him some money for my earlier fare.  I just told him to add it to his gas money.  

I made a quick stop at 711 to get some snacks, and then headed home to the batcave.

[Parts inspired by Plurk / Last year's Oktoberfest / Photos from Tippi]

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