<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246</id><updated>2011-04-22T09:03:15.732+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Clueless</title><subtitle type='html'>I think I know but I have no idea. Like, totally!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>429</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113264701680405998</id><published>2005-11-22T11:01:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2006-09-02T13:06:57.500+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memoirs of a Clueless</title><summary type='text'>(Because I have turned Clueless into a noun - a proper noun. A pronoun, even.)I was supposed to place links here to my memorable posts but daym, there is just too many.Instead, I decided to discuss relationships this blog had affected.Astro - Stupid Fingers It was because of this post.Mark - Ooops It was him this post was directed to.Lex - who can ever forget this and this?Abe - the feeling guapo</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113264701680405998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113264701680405998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/memoirs-of-clueless_113264701680405998.html' title='Memoirs of a Clueless'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113228421043304809</id><published>2005-11-18T11:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-18T11:26:58.816+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Men Oh Men</title><summary type='text'>~ Advices from Oprah about men ~   If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away.    If he doesn't want you, nothing can make him stay.   Stop making excuses for a man and his behaviour.   Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.   Stop trying to change yourself for a relationship that's not meant to be.   Slower is better.   Never live your life for a man before you find what</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113228421043304809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113228421043304809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/men-oh-men.html' title='Men Oh Men'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113221627666550798</id><published>2005-11-17T16:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T16:31:16.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Sweet Death</title><summary type='text'>So... This is what it is like as you near your death.Nobody would care to make you smile anymore."I hope the leaving is joyful and I hope never to return."- Frida Kahlo's suicide note</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113221627666550798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113221627666550798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/oh-sweet-death.html' title='Oh Sweet Death'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113212587970960526</id><published>2005-11-16T15:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-16T15:24:39.720+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Steady Lang</title><summary type='text'>I think I'm being extra melodramatic for having a countdown for the shutdown of this blog.T-minus 7 daysMost people I know would simply delete their blogs or stop blogging when they felt like doing so but I'm not most people. This blog has grown on me in the two years of its existence, nourished by my thoughts and rants and non-sensical blurbs. I'm not very good in letting go. So slowly, I shake </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113212587970960526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113212587970960526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/steady-lang.html' title='Steady Lang'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113204278898269529</id><published>2005-11-15T16:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T16:19:48.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ping Said Watch</title><summary type='text'>All must obey.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113204278898269529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113204278898269529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/ping-said-watch.html' title='Ping Said Watch'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113195338919993404</id><published>2005-11-14T15:28:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-14T15:29:49.310+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Playboy</title><summary type='text'>This has been responsible for my climaxes these past week. Imaginatively speaking, that is.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113195338919993404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113195338919993404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/playboy.html' title='The Playboy'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113168366404001944</id><published>2005-11-11T12:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T12:34:24.053+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kinda Flatline</title><summary type='text'>This blog is twelve days away from death.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113168366404001944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113168366404001944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/kinda-flatline.html' title='Kinda Flatline'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113159042296125962</id><published>2005-11-10T10:26:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T11:06:00.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>WEtDogi</title><summary type='text'>Something to look forward to next year sabi ni Carlo.Alipin: qwestyn, wats the one thing u wnt right now but u cnt hve it?Diyosa: carDiyosa: heheDiyosa: boyfriendDiyosa: ay one thing lang palaDiyosa: well they can be one naman ehAlipin: which is more impt?Diyosa: of the two?Diyosa: carDiyosa: or maybe boyfriend who HAS a carDiyosa: haha i really can't tellAlipin: yes u can....Diyosa: well, yeah, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113159042296125962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113159042296125962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/wetdogi.html' title='WEtDogi'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113152035272607662</id><published>2005-11-09T15:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-09T15:12:32.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rent</title><summary type='text'>Yey.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113152035272607662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113152035272607662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/rent.html' title='Rent'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113143193233621945</id><published>2005-11-08T14:28:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-10T11:13:31.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deadma</title><summary type='text'>Aking napaghinuha na makabubuti na hindi ko na muna siya kausapin. Maguguluhan lang ako. Kebs lang muna.Birthday ni JP. Love pa rin daw niya ko. Inilipat niya yung painuman niya ng ibang araw, baka Friday, para makapunta ako sa bahay nila sa Cainta. Kebs rin.Keber ako sa lahat. Ganun rin naman ang pinaparamdam nila sa `kin.Alala ko yung nakakatuwang bading sa Mikko's sa White Beach. Sa kanya ko </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113143193233621945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113143193233621945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/deadma_08.html' title='Deadma'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113135401674479532</id><published>2005-11-07T16:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T17:00:16.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hitching A Ride</title><summary type='text'>I don't really relate to my new background music. I don't care to know when "it will be me". It's just that... this song... this song... immortalized... [insert moment here]One joint of good shit brought out mushy Floi. UNO LANG.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113135401674479532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113135401674479532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/hitching-ride.html' title='Hitching A Ride'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113116352486064668</id><published>2005-11-05T11:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T16:42:51.330+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day Down Memory Lane</title><summary type='text'>I love Islam. I'm thankful to Muslims for having Ramadan. PGMA declared yesterday a non-working holiday to commemorate the end of Ramadan. Yey, nakapagday-off si Inday.I woke up at around 9, read a couple of chapters of Santa Evita, laid in bed pondering how to make good use of a Friday of freedom and decided to invite Bes for a day of bonding. I am so good with parents as long as they were not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113116352486064668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113116352486064668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/day-down-memory-lane.html' title='A Day Down Memory Lane'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113089758505603167</id><published>2005-11-02T09:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-02T11:14:09.083+08:00</updated><title type='text'>365 Days Later</title><summary type='text'>It has been a year. It has been twelve months. It has been fifty two weeks. Yes, it has been three hundred sixty five days. It may as well have been only yesterday because those four days in Cebu, my four eventful memorable days in Cebu, remain vivid in my mind.Remembering Cebu doesn't fail to bring a smile on my face. From the "packing", to the missed flight, the unwelcomed visitor, the endless </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113089758505603167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113089758505603167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/11/365-days-later.html' title='365 Days Later'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113084997298543742</id><published>2005-10-30T20:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T20:59:33.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blinding but Seeing</title><summary type='text'>It has been a while since I last had a blinding* moment. It has been months, I believe. I only get to experience it when I go to Malate and the last time I did, I was too wasted to remember how I got home.I was on a cab home to Pasig this morning and as I passed through Guadalupe bridge, I noticed something spectacular. I looked to my right and morning light was breaking. I could even see Laguna </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113084997298543742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113084997298543742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/blinding-but-seeing.html' title='Blinding but Seeing'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113047438323683902</id><published>2005-10-28T12:01:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-28T16:55:41.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cloudburst</title><summary type='text'>I have a new favorite activity. I love walking in the rain! I love staying under the shower till I'm all pruney and near-hypothermic and plodding in the rain with slow baby strides feels like being under a giant shower. There was a heavy downpour last night and with my sorority umbrella as refuge, I walked home from KFC. (Yes, my dinner last night came from KFC again) The difficult feat of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113047438323683902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113047438323683902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/cloudburst.html' title='Cloudburst'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113038769443669918</id><published>2005-10-27T12:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-27T12:34:54.493+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Split</title><summary type='text'>I caught Mary Reilly last night on HBO. It stirred my insides in ways I could not describe. I now have a thing for John Malkovich. He's as old as my Pop but it doesn't matter. He'll be in my head for quite sometime. I'm on the hunt for a real live Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Something about restrained evil men turn me on. And the eyes, oh the eyes. Stare at me to eternity. Maybe that's why I'm </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113038769443669918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113038769443669918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/split.html' title='Split'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-113029824106486564</id><published>2005-10-26T11:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-26T11:44:01.123+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kwentong KFC</title><summary type='text'>Gusto kong kumain sa Tokyo Tokyo o kaya ay sa Subway. Purgang-purga na ko sa KFC. Hindi naman sa nagrereklamo ako, pwede akong mamatay na tanging pagkain lang sa KFC ang aking kinakain.Kagabi, sinubukan ko ang promo ng KFC na P75.00 para sa tatlong maanghang at malutong na pakpak ng manok at isang kanin. Bumili na rin ako ng maliit na coleslaw pantanggal ng suya. Todo sa sarap naman kase ang </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113029824106486564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/113029824106486564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/kwentong-kfc.html' title='Kwentong KFC'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112978719752294261</id><published>2005-10-20T13:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T19:28:30.736+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yucky Stories</title><summary type='text'>I was stepping off the building lobby last night and was lighting a cig when this horrible horrible sight greeted me. A girl (or so I thought) was sitting at the top step of the front stairs. She appeared to be a student of The School of Today located in our building. Her shirt was running up and her jeans were running low, waaaay too low actually. Her butt cleavage was exposed. It woulda been </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112978719752294261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112978719752294261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/yucky-stories.html' title='Yucky Stories'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112970322245659326</id><published>2005-10-19T14:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-19T14:27:02.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My NO</title><summary type='text'>Can I not say no? Must I be in constant waiting for your beckoning? Is it utterly imperative for me to heed your every invitation? Is it my duty to drop all I have in my hands to accept whatever you throw my way?I do have a life, you know. Like you, I do have other friends. I miss you everyday but that doesn't mean I would be excessively ecstatic at the chance you would finally decide to give me </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112970322245659326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112970322245659326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-no.html' title='My NO'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112962888675108415</id><published>2005-10-18T17:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T17:48:06.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spaghetti Night</title><summary type='text'>I missed my doc's appointment yesterday. She seems always in a hurry; it's starting to annoy me. She needs a little more dedication to her profession. hihihiI went straight home but not before making a quick stop to the grocery store to buy prepaid load for my cell. I realize now that I have this thing for the grocery. Something about it gives me satisfaction in orgasmic levels. I bought shampoo,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112962888675108415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112962888675108415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/spaghetti-night.html' title='Spaghetti Night'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112952485261235071</id><published>2005-10-17T11:44:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T17:09:31.643+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Weekend to Remember</title><summary type='text'>I did say "we be drunk giddy girls enjoying a fine Friday night". I only kept my promise. It may have gone a little overboard but hey, who would gawddaym remember, anyway? Even I couldn't. o^_^o One of these days, I'd buy Nakpil. I swear I will. So, everything I do along that street would be my business alone. I would effin' own the place! That's hot.I received sad news when I dropped by CG and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112952485261235071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112952485261235071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/weekend-to-remember.html' title='A Weekend to Remember'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112926095988993221</id><published>2005-10-14T10:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-14T15:56:41.910+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stranger</title><summary type='text'>It was a lovely evening. I took the MRT instead of getting a cab because I miss public transportation. I love being around strangers. The MRT was full but a good man offered me his seat. I walked through SM and Glorietta with a spring on my steps. Then...I have just walked past McD and Pizza Hut when my eyes travelled to the lane across. A familiar face. It couldn't be. With a familiar girl. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112926095988993221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112926095988993221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/stranger.html' title='The Stranger'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112901424059431730</id><published>2005-10-11T13:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-11T15:07:42.220+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoes and Slippers</title><summary type='text'>I went to the doc yesterday and I came out clean. In reward, I bought me red Dorothy of Oz stilletos. *bliss* Shoes are a girl's best friend.In the hit movie Got 2 Believe starring the late Rico Yan and the fabulous Claudine Barretto, Yan played a successful bachelor terrified of the idea of marriage while Baretto played a consistent achiever doomed to being eternal maid of honor due to her </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112901424059431730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112901424059431730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/shoes-and-slippers.html' title='Shoes and Slippers'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112865726393151252</id><published>2005-10-07T11:25:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-07T11:54:23.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'>+ and -</title><summary type='text'>The longest relationship (and the only one worthy of being called so) I've been in  formally lasted for one year, six months and twenty days. The operative word being formally. We've been together for a year before we finally decided to be boyfriend-girlfriend. Everyone wasn't thrilled. In fact, I have reason to believe that the only ones who were excited were him and myself. It was, literally, a</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112865726393151252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112865726393151252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/and.html' title='+ and -'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112858596284217439</id><published>2005-10-06T12:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T16:06:02.913+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Live Like Forrest</title><summary type='text'>One of the enduring movielines of our time goes, "Life is like a box of chocolates; you'll never know what you're gonna get."While probability can now be computed based on withstanding data, there is no proven equation to determine predictability. Everything is probable but nothing is predictable per se. Everything that can happen may happen and, God forbid, will happen. A minute, an hour, a day,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112858596284217439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112858596284217439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/live-like-forrest.html' title='Live Like Forrest'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112848564733491487</id><published>2005-10-05T11:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-05T12:14:07.413+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Share Your Blood, Win A Friend</title><summary type='text'>One of my dearest sisters is lying in the ICU of PGH for encephalitis. The news came as a shock and I almost wept to tell myself this is reality and not a bad dream (because it has been a while since I had one). I informed her batchmate in the sorority and a couple of sisses who I know are in Manila. She is badly in need of blood donors.I remember her as vibrant, outgoing and witty. These are the</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112848564733491487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112848564733491487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/share-your-blood-win-friend.html' title='Share Your Blood, Win A Friend'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112831495286084404</id><published>2005-10-03T11:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-03T14:13:28.156+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just crack my head with a hammer</title><summary type='text'>I have three posts saved as draft. I was going to do final editing for publishing when Lara oh-so-emphatically asked for assistance regarding this Statistical problem:The distribution of weights of a product that is being mass produced at a certain factory was found to be a normal distribution with an average of 5.2 kg and a standard deviation of 0.1 kg.  Products that weigh less than 5.0 kg are </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112831495286084404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112831495286084404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/10/just-crack-my-head-with-hammer.html' title='Just crack my head with a hammer'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112806088921127782</id><published>2005-09-30T13:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-30T14:14:49.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secrets</title><summary type='text'>Dirty LittleI reckon the new video of All American Rejects was inspired by this website. It's just too conspicuous.I've sent mine. Could any of you spot which one it is?You're MyDid anybody see you come into my house last night? When I got your message on my [cellphone] that you wanna do everything I like, alright. Alright!I like being in the same room as you and your girlfriend. The fact that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112806088921127782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112806088921127782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/secrets.html' title='Secrets'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112789294401214814</id><published>2005-09-28T14:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-28T15:35:44.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hearts and Stars</title><summary type='text'>I did not get my heart trampled on again. I am not broken-hearted, so to speak. I am not. I love him but I'm not IN love with him. It's not a matter of unrequited love. It's a completely different story.Being in love is when you hold someone's hands and the two of you spin in place. The centrifugal and centripetal forces keep the two of you in situ. You spin and spin and spin and all the world </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112789294401214814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112789294401214814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/hearts-and-stars.html' title='Hearts and Stars'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112781064774500681</id><published>2005-09-27T16:05:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-27T16:44:07.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pass it to the left-hand side</title><summary type='text'>This is not a poem.Kubler-RossI am in denialAnger made me wash my dirty laundryAnger made me scrub the toiletWHY ME???How ever far away, I will always love youHow ever long I stay, I will always love youWhatever words I say, I will always love youI will always love youI will always love youyou I love will alwayslove will you always Iwill I always you loveyou always I love willalways love will I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112781064774500681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112781064774500681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/pass-it-to-left-hand-side.html' title='Pass it to the left-hand side'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112772200861208444</id><published>2005-09-26T15:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T16:06:48.676+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taft Ave. as Freedom Park</title><summary type='text'>Going to the Bar Ops made me miss UPLB quite terribly. It reminded me too much of Feb Fair. Such fun.U! nibersidad! ng Pilipinas! Our booth was right beside UP Law's. How many more reminders did I need to see?The battle of the colleges does not end with UAAP. An even tougher battle is whose College of Law is the best. Maroon, Blue, and Red were everywhere.If I were given a month to study, would I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112772200861208444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112772200861208444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/taft-ave-as-freedom-park.html' title='Taft Ave. as Freedom Park'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112772027265260082</id><published>2005-09-25T10:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-26T15:37:52.710+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't</title><summary type='text'>The Greenpeace orientation didn't happen. Apparently, the orientation was moved to Sunday because not many volunteers were available for Saturday and the GP people kinda failed to inform those who confirmed to show up on Saturday. Anyway, we stayed for the first aid training just to make our travel worthwhile. I was completely bored because all that was discussed I already took up in high school </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112772027265260082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112772027265260082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/dont.html' title='Don&apos;t'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112744788667587243</id><published>2005-09-23T10:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-23T16:28:02.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Floi</title><summary type='text'>The average Filipina shoe size is 6.I went to Mega with Meg yesterday to buy the Happy Feet sandals I've been eyeing on, the blue one with polka dots and stars. I know that everything on display are on the smallest size available. EVERY SINGLE ONE is either size 5 or 7. How lucky. The only styles on size 6 are with black soles and in colors white, apple green, red and lavender. I would never </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112744788667587243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112744788667587243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/happy-floi.html' title='Happy Floi'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112736470572854023</id><published>2005-09-22T12:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T16:55:17.423+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Geeky Peter Pan</title><summary type='text'>"Many people would kill to have your life."Well, this life is mine and you can't have it.I do have a good life, don't I? Sure, there's drama and heartbreaks and so and so but still, it is outnumbered by the things that make life beautiful. Take M-Y G-E-E-K, for example. He is one person who always always makes me fly everytime I see him. For the almost two years that I've known him, I can only </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112736470572854023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112736470572854023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-geeky-peter-pan.html' title='My Geeky Peter Pan'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112712340624679385</id><published>2005-09-19T16:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T17:50:06.336+08:00</updated><title type='text'>A True Josephian VS. Tunay na Iska</title><summary type='text'>THE TRUE JOSEPHIANThe unbelievable happened yesterday. I was getting ready to leave Pasig to go home to Las Piñas when Bob Marley sang Jammin' to an unregistered number. I answered and TENTENTENEN!!! It's Marlin.We agreed to meet up at St. Jo after she said her prayers and head to Starbucks.I was amazed at the renovations done on the buildings of my beloved Alma Mater. The structures that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112712340624679385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112712340624679385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/true-josephian-vs-tunay-na-iska.html' title='A True Josephian VS. Tunay na Iska'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112703955328588951</id><published>2005-09-17T17:35:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-19T17:55:35.390+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feel Good Friday</title><summary type='text'>It tookred nail polish,a pair of Hollister flipflops,the cutest Abercrombie skirt,a trip to Xaymaca,being around Elaine and Charm,hanging out with Abe, Mike and Randolf,Extra Joss mixed with San Mig,Lintik live,a warm hug,a tight hug,a hipgrip,mah bebe Belle and her Bumi,♥My Sweetheart♥, Neil and their friend Fifi,a whiff o' hemp, andstanding outside the Big Brother house at 4AMall in one night </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112703955328588951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112703955328588951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/feel-good-friday.html' title='Feel Good Friday'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112684629945355273</id><published>2005-09-16T12:09:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-16T12:54:45.690+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Open Letter</title><summary type='text'>The following letter was originally sent some three months ago to someone deeply offended by the contents of this blog. It is now addressed to everyone who shares her sentiments. Shame on you, but what the hay, read on.Sentences/words not applicable to the general readers have been omitted or edited.In relation to this, read this post.You have to understand that my blog is like an online journal,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112684629945355273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112684629945355273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/open-letter.html' title='An Open Letter'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112675517657836706</id><published>2005-09-15T10:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-15T11:51:36.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Apologetically Almost</title><summary type='text'>I almost want to say I'm sorry.I'm sorry about this and that and everything in between.I'm sorry I'm too honest. I'm sorry I lied.I'm sorry I went berserk. I'm sorry I was indifferent.I'm sorry I blogged. I'm sorry I didn't tell all.I'm sorry I believed. I'm sorry you believed.I'm sorry I fell. I'm sorry [if] you fell.I'm sorry I met you. I'm sorry you met me.I'm sorry we met. I'm sorry I went </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112675517657836706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112675517657836706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/apologetically-almost.html' title='Apologetically Almost'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112658472054515547</id><published>2005-09-13T11:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-13T18:17:22.353+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tower Crashes</title><summary type='text'>I was channel surfing last night in hopes of drowning my woes when I caught Zero Hour on Discovery. The final hour of AA Flight 11 was featured. The last events before the plane struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center were theoretically staged based on the flight attendant's conversation with the manager (?) for flight attendants on the ground.Incredibly, the flight attendants managed to</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112658472054515547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112658472054515547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/tower-crashes.html' title='The Tower Crashes'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112649667376632143</id><published>2005-09-12T11:38:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T13:58:02.753+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Postcards</title><summary type='text'>I cried for four hours last Friday night - make that Saturday morning. It aggravated my turbulence. I realized crying could not offer me comfort anymore. I don't even know why I'm sad. I'm certain it's not because of the hormones. I need to learn to forgive, not others, but myself.Yesterday, I checked my mail and received a link to this site from Jenny Pretty Fairy. I found a new outlet. Blogging</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112649667376632143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112649667376632143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/secret-postcards.html' title='Secret Postcards'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112617565415320167</id><published>2005-09-08T18:13:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-12T11:50:58.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Diskaril</title><summary type='text'>I've been a nostalgic wreck this past few days so I'm resorting to my alter-blogs to pour myself out because this blog has become too public. Browsing through Friendster this morning led me to some hilarious photos and some photos that oiled my rusty memory back to life. I have quite a vivid memory. Sometimes, when a certain scene in my life comes into mind, I close my eyes and is instantly </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112617565415320167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112617565415320167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/diskaril.html' title='Diskaril'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112599361886393527</id><published>2005-09-06T15:53:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T16:00:18.870+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lintik na Pag-ibig</title><summary type='text'>Summer is back with Cohen! Yes, they are kissing again. They are cuddling again. They are affectionately getting on each other's nerves again.*lovestruck face*I love The O.C.======================I've been Brownman Revival happy these past couple of days. Thanks to El Cid's bootleg CD. hihihi... Support the Filipino music industry. Please buy pirated CDs and cassettes.Lintik na pag-ibigParang </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112599361886393527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112599361886393527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/lintik-na-pag-ibig.html' title='Lintik na Pag-ibig'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112590710124185829</id><published>2005-09-05T15:51:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T15:58:21.240+08:00</updated><title type='text'>FED Up Again</title><summary type='text'>Ugh.No.Not. Again.Tanga-tanga mo kase, Floi. Nung ikaw lang, pakipot pa. Ayan, tsaka ka pa kakagat kung kelan...May gf na naman.fLoi on the side na naman.To get rid of the main course's taste.No.Don't.Dubi. You want?</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112590710124185829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112590710124185829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/fed-up-again.html' title='FED Up Again'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112590560684280425</id><published>2005-09-03T14:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T15:50:34.420+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know we're COOL</title><summary type='text'>Ludwig consumed ten pesos of my precious prepaid load yesterday [until this morning, actually] inquiring about Puerto Galera. It was my fault, though coz I couldn't help but reply. It seemed to me he thought I were a travel agent for White Beach [which I might as well be considering my knowledge of the ins and outs in the area]. He was going to go with his beloved WEG. How sweet is that. I wonder</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112590560684280425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112590560684280425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/i-know-were-cool.html' title='I know we&apos;re COOL'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112565476099575112</id><published>2005-09-02T17:21:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T16:31:05.640+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Professional &lt; Social</title><summary type='text'>PROFESSIONALWhat will happen when the sun got tired of shining amidst heavy nimbus clouds?This.Floi may be the most optimistic person you'll ever meet in person [obviously not in this blog] but she gets disheartened just like this *snaps fingers*.Meron naman Starbucks and Yellow Cab sa Dubai eh.SOCIALI will love you forever, Kassy for inviting me toIt was so good to watch Manuel play again. I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112565476099575112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112565476099575112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/09/professional-social.html' title='Professional &lt; Social'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112545888153053609</id><published>2005-08-31T10:56:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-31T11:28:01.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Floi's Afraid of Mumu</title><summary type='text'>Mumu - n. Filipino slang for ghost.Cayio told me this urban legend about the old rural building in UPLB while we were sitting in front of the bonfire in Galera. I was so terrified that I fell off the bench and almost ran through the beach had he not managed to grab my arm. This happened in front of Cayio's Zoology classmates and I was wearing a skirt. Talk about embarassment.In revenge, I would </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112545888153053609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112545888153053609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/flois-afraid-of-mumu.html' title='Floi&apos;s Afraid of Mumu'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112537380892272484</id><published>2005-08-30T10:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-30T11:50:08.930+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today Like Any Other</title><summary type='text'>I have liberated myself from the stress brought by public transportation. Hmmm... not quite but less. Every morning, I only need to take a 10-minute FX ride to get to work. I get exercise and sunshine as I walk from the apartment to Shaw Blvd. I do feel and look healthier now. This morning, without a smaller bill, I gave the driver a hundred-peso bill for the P10.00 fare. As the van approached </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112537380892272484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112537380892272484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/today-like-any-other.html' title='Today Like Any Other'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112529113048415383</id><published>2005-08-29T12:43:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-29T12:54:28.463+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Womyn</title><summary type='text'>"You work so hard not to be seen as a sex object.Before long, you're not seen at all."- Constance Harraway The Life of David Gale  Complaint? Not.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112529113048415383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112529113048415383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/i-am-womyn.html' title='I Am Womyn'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112485899134530477</id><published>2005-08-24T12:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T09:09:38.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and Me</title><summary type='text'>After watching the Prom episode of Smallville last night, there's nothing more I want to do now than to slowdance. It has been far too long. I am not entirely certain but I think the last time was actually in the brods' induction ball three years ago. Yes, that's it. Astro and I almost didn't go because we had a silly fight earlier that day. It was such a magical night. Until the brods and I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112485899134530477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112485899134530477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/me-and-me.html' title='Me and Me'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112469366441501999</id><published>2005-08-22T14:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-22T15:12:52.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corporate Hell</title><summary type='text'>All those times that I thought I have been overloaded with work seems petty compared to what I have on my shoulders now. I literally am in way over my head with tons of projects up to my neck. I. Am. Drowning.I finally finally moved in to the staff house for good yesterday not because I want to but because I have to if I want to reserve my energy for more worthwhile tasks than travelling. I dozed</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112469366441501999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112469366441501999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/corporate-hell.html' title='Corporate Hell'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112384188568718894</id><published>2005-08-12T17:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T18:21:14.370+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Remakes</title><summary type='text'>Pelikula @ Titus Brandsma presents:Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory Mel Stuart, USA, 1971.100 minutes. OldboyChan-wook Park, South Korea, 2003.120 minutes.L'AppartementGilles Mimouni, France, 1996.116 minutes.I was just blogging about not seeing the French original of Wicker Park yet! How splendid!^_^Short films:InterstateMatt Ackerman, USA 2004.14 minutes.KMart ConfidentialElena Oxman, USA </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112384188568718894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112384188568718894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/remakes.html' title='Remakes'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112382567606191123</id><published>2005-08-12T12:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T13:51:32.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Umuwi ka na, Baby...</title><summary type='text'>I have to stop singing this song sometime soon. If I don't, I'll definitely go out of my mind. I don't even have anyone to sing it to. Joketime.Hanggang kailan ako maghihintayNa makasama kang muliSa buhay kong puno ng paghihirapAt tanging ikaw lang angPumapawi sa mga luhaNaglalagay ng ngiti sa mga labiStig ng Orange and Lemons! Theme song yata toh ng utol kong punk sa pinakamamahal niyang nobya </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112382567606191123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112382567606191123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/umuwi-ka-na-baby.html' title='Umuwi ka na, Baby...'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112374247086834480</id><published>2005-08-11T14:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-11T14:41:10.873+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gold</title><summary type='text'>I haven't even filed for a leave yet! I'll prolly be sick on that day. *wink*Too bad I can't go on the brods' anniversary on Friday coz Chevy's leaving for Cali on Saturday so it'll be our last night to hang out. Too bad because socials during the brods' anniversary are always funn.Anyway, I'm so excited. I just can't hide it. I miss my sisses so much. I haven't been to LB since last April when I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112374247086834480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112374247086834480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/gold.html' title='Gold'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112365617412326436</id><published>2005-08-10T13:33:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T17:23:25.396+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Coffee and Sympathy</title><summary type='text'>I hate you Ipertz for reading my thoughts.With apologies to Blur and Jars of Clay.Monday night was TGIS night. Due to Loiza's call center career, the S in TGIS sometimes stands for Sunday and we sometimes become TGIM. Sundays, we go to Marbles to play billiards. Mondays, we meet up in the newly-opened Starbucks in Las Piñas. We used to hang in Figaro before that.Mum has long found the idea of us </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112365617412326436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112365617412326436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/coffee-and-sympathy.html' title='Coffee and Sympathy'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112357021470797034</id><published>2005-08-09T14:32:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-09T14:50:14.713+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Son of a Gun</title><summary type='text'>You probably think this post is about you, don't you?You're so vain. Quit flattering yourself. When I wrote this post, I meant I was jealous of YOU. I had to get down on my knees to ask her out but you pulled her in a jiffy. THAT was why I was seething.If we're talking users here, has it ever occurred to you that I was using YOU? I have what I want; go figure what it is. I have no need for you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112357021470797034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112357021470797034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/son-of-gun.html' title='Son of a Gun'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112349158043440827</id><published>2005-08-08T16:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T16:59:40.523+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Malaka Gamoto</title><summary type='text'>Elmer SMSed me last Thursday about a Hale-Spongecola-Sugarfree-MYMP gig in Mapua. In my pink Pony, puzzle-print skirt and Pringles tee, I braved the heavy drizzle. I met up with Ighie by the Manila City Hall. Tadah! The effin' gig was sold out. Ighie and I hanged around a bit in Intra when Abe called up. He and Randolf were in Xaymaca watching Session Road. Off went Ighie and I. I'm not supposed </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112349158043440827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112349158043440827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/malaka-gamoto.html' title='Malaka Gamoto'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112313308492651768</id><published>2005-08-04T11:47:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-04T14:48:47.446+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovers and Friends</title><summary type='text'>I come from a coed barkada [peer group] of equal ratio. There is Loiza, Julie, Carmen, Ikang, Aising, Jeff, Alvin, Chris, Arturo, Erick and Nog. Six girls and six boys. They've been my friends for four years now and they've seen me through it all - the sadness, the happiness, the failures and the triumphs. I could not imagine me being myself without them. They played a major role in my journey of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112313308492651768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112313308492651768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/lovers-and-friends.html' title='Lovers and Friends'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112305609481891499</id><published>2005-08-03T14:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-03T16:01:34.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Day for You &amp; Me in Paradise</title><summary type='text'>I am a city girl. I live a city life. The urban spirit dwells in me. One attempt at surviving the rural lifestyle left me with defeat. Three years was the longest possible time I could reside away from the city; it even included going home on weekends. [read: UPLB]On the other hand, I'm truly madly deeply addicted to the beach and the outdoors. It lets me shake off the stress. It is my ideal </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112305609481891499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112305609481891499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/another-day-for-you-me-in-paradise.html' title='Another Day for You &amp; Me in Paradise'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112296103214375200</id><published>2005-08-02T13:19:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T14:41:29.486+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Years in the Making</title><summary type='text'>No, Cayio, I'm not talking about that FPJ movie.My Galera weekend was superb. Fun fun time. The best things happen unplanned.I went with Chevy, her boyfriend Miko, her cousin Elaine and Elaine's best friend Darl. Needless to say, by the looks of it, I would eventually end up playing fifth wheel which I DIDN'T because being out of place is just not possible with me. Fed was supposed to go with us </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112296103214375200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112296103214375200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/three-years-in-making.html' title='Three Years in the Making'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112297715197507207</id><published>2005-08-01T16:18:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T18:05:52.063+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies Galore</title><summary type='text'>Harris' gift to moi for his comeback. Oh and Den's also.^_^1. Total number of films I own on tape/VCD/DVD:- Aaack. I dunno NOW. Gimme until later to count.2. The last film I bought:- Been too long! Mum's the one who mostly buys. Gimme until later to check.3. The last film I watched:- Let me see. I don't remember also. Sorry, Harris. I'm not answering this well enough.4. The five films that I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112297715197507207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112297715197507207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/08/movies-galore.html' title='Movies Galore'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112287593221542297</id><published>2005-07-31T22:37:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T13:18:39.086+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Randolf Won</title><summary type='text'>I had just arrived home from Galera and was still a bit stuck up when Pangee told me Randolf is on the television. I was surprised coz I know his bilog ang mundo ad stopped airing when summer ended. It turns out he was a contestant at K! The One-million-peso Videoke Challenge on GMA. He does look different on TV than in person prolly because of his goatee and hint of moustache which he shaves </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112287593221542297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112287593221542297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/randolf-won.html' title='Randolf Won'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112252495471397253</id><published>2005-07-28T10:36:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-28T12:29:14.806+08:00</updated><title type='text'>When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted</title><summary type='text'>CSI season finale was on last night in AXN. I was debating with Mylabs over YM whether it was any good or not. He thinks the former, I, the latter. His status says "CSI finale - best episode ever!" I beg to differ.So, Quentin Tarantino directed it. There were many points I'd like to tackle. First, why the heck did the CSI team not think of mock money as ransom? When the kidnapper blew himself up,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112252495471397253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112252495471397253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/when-hunter-becomes-hunted.html' title='When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112242697624897794</id><published>2005-07-27T08:59:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-27T09:16:16.256+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Isang Palaisipan</title><summary type='text'>SINO...ang kumain ng kaning lamig sa mesa?ang nagtago ng kabilang pares ng aking tsinelas?ang nag-ubos ng tubig sa timba sa banyo?ang tinutukoy ni Ludwig na nais makipagkita sa akin sa Biyernes?ang nagsasabing may pag-asa pa ang gobyerno at ekonomiya ng Pilipinas?ang gustong pumunta ng dentista?ang nagtapon ng toothpick kong pangalikot sa tenga?ang patuloy na nagpapadala ng bastos na mensahe sa </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112242697624897794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112242697624897794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/isang-palaisipan.html' title='Isang Palaisipan'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112236559350507278</id><published>2005-07-26T15:02:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T16:13:13.513+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Hard being a Girl</title><summary type='text'>But most of the time, funn. [With apologies to the equally-ripper Bayo]I wore my golden gown to Chevy's debut. You know, the one I wore to the brods' convention in Cebu which Lex said made me look like a wedding sponsor. How's that for a compliment from your pseudo-boyfriend after being dolled up for two hours, huh?I was supposed to borrow a gown from Kate but it turned out that I have heavier </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112236559350507278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112236559350507278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/its-hard-being-girl.html' title='It&apos;s Hard being a Girl'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112234944621159718</id><published>2005-07-25T15:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T11:44:06.216+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be a Star</title><summary type='text'>Last Saturday in Malate, right after Rossel, Chevy and I got off the cab, three persons approached us. They introduced themselves as talent scouts for Abs-Cbn's new reality show Pinoy Big Brother.They asked us if we were liberated, confident and comfortable in wearing a bikini. We were like, duh! But the clinchers are Chevy's only here for a vacation which means she'll be leaving on August 6 and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112234944621159718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112234944621159718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/be-star.html' title='Be a Star'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112218342518546107</id><published>2005-07-24T12:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-18T09:08:57.793+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eighteen IS the age to be</title><summary type='text'>So, Chevy's debut to adulthood was celebrated last night in Patio Victoria. Lud didn't go but, odd enough, his mum and sister were there so I got to catch up with them for a li'l bit. Tita Edith [Lud's Mum] almost didn't recognize me but it struck her upon hearing my name. Even more odd, prior to last night, we never went beyond hi's and hello's and have you eaten yet's. It was good.I finally met</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112218342518546107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112218342518546107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/eighteen-is-age-to-be.html' title='Eighteen IS the age to be'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112193631106319261</id><published>2005-07-21T15:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T16:58:31.116+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*emoticon*</title><summary type='text'>fLoi enjoy is in ♥! *blush* Don't jinx it, silly. Oh my, someone may have already did. *sad*I'm still playing Oscar, though. Grouchy groucho. My sense of humor and patience have quietly gone out to get a pastrami on rye. Come back! Come back! *crabby*If yesterday weren't proof of my dedication to work, I don't know what is. So, I missed the outing to Pansol. It turned out to be a wise decision. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112193631106319261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112193631106319261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/emoticon.html' title='*emoticon*'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112183394761361136</id><published>2005-07-20T11:20:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T15:33:53.036+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Critically-acclaimed Shanghai Lily</title><summary type='text'>My ass.Rossel celebrated her birthday last night in a resort in Pansol and I was supposed to go but Boss is leaving for Dallas tomorrow so I couldn't take a leave today to make final arrangements and take down last-minute projects. Chevy tried to convince me into going by telling me Elaine is going back to Manila early in the morning; but, I've gone to one too many outings in Pansol to know that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112183394761361136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112183394761361136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/critically-acclaimed-shanghai-lily.html' title='Critically-acclaimed Shanghai Lily'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112176001742464527</id><published>2005-07-19T15:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-19T16:10:04.146+08:00</updated><title type='text'>BANGBANGBANG</title><summary type='text'>I've been tad too touchy these past few days. Para akong kanin na nanlalata. I'm too fragile. I feel like I'd easily snap at anyone. I already have to two. Tsk tsk! I can't be around people. I suppose all I need now is some me time. I just want to stay in bed and read Mary Higgins Clark's Remember Me. I'm already done with Stephen King's Misery. I think it's sick to be reading dark novels when </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112176001742464527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112176001742464527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/bangbangbang.html' title='BANGBANGBANG'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112166714560483526</id><published>2005-07-18T11:48:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-20T12:33:29.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>If Only...</title><summary type='text'>The tagline goes "What if... life gives you a second chance... to love the one you lost?"I watched this with Rozl and Francis yesterday. Here's my $ 0.50 worth.At the end of the movie, I could only think of one thing: the movie is unfair. Spoiler alert! Highlight to read. *wink*[The movie starts with a typical day for couple Samantha (Jennifer Love Hewitt) and Ian (Paul Nicholls); or so they </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112166714560483526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112166714560483526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/if-only.html' title='If Only...'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112132423103947354</id><published>2005-07-14T14:30:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-14T16:51:35.070+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonchilychees &amp; UP</title><summary type='text'>Ugh. My tonsils have been red, swollen and sore since Tuesday. Coinky dinkily, I bought a new wallet last week and found the old prescription from the doctor in my old wallet.I last had tonsilitis in March 2003. How I vividly remember that day when Rozl accompanied me to the Infirmary in UPLB. The doctor was cute, though I can't remember his name, and he was taken aback when I stuck out my tongue</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112132423103947354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112132423103947354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/tonchilychees-up.html' title='Tonchilychees &amp; UP'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112113678375005581</id><published>2005-07-12T10:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T10:53:03.760+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Golden Gate Scandal</title><summary type='text'>Shhhh...Alam na... [part two]Chevy did a great job with telling the story so I'll let her do the blogging... </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112113678375005581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112113678375005581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/golden-gate-scandal.html' title='Golden Gate Scandal'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112105776174406347</id><published>2005-07-11T11:58:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-11T16:13:53.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three</title><summary type='text'>Here we go, Leng...^_^three names you go by:1. Floi2. Buloi3. Floi enjoy ^_^three screen names you have had: 1. betan_belle2. skirts_are_for_flirts3. chick_so_fine ^_^three physical things you like about yourself:1. eyes2. hips 3. butt ^_^three physical things you don't like about yourself: 1. eyebags2. hands3. toesthree parts of your heritage: 1. filipino2. spanish3. americanthree things that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112105776174406347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112105776174406347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/three.html' title='Three'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112071322459933090</id><published>2005-07-07T12:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T14:17:13.836+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blame it on Stress, Maybe</title><summary type='text'>One, Two...(Damn! These last two are huge.)Three, Four...Four zits sitting on my forehead.Moi! The girl who has breakouts as frequent as a nun cusses.------------------------------Anyway...As of last Tuesday, I am officially every girlfriend's worst nightmare. Whatever happened in Elmer's birthday party stays there.All I can say is I'm so proud `coz i have a real man as a friend. He'll stand by </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112071322459933090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112071322459933090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/blame-it-on-stress-maybe.html' title='Blame it on Stress, Maybe'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y93/lavender2/lj/th_gcpulp2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112045201781184530</id><published>2005-07-04T12:31:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T12:45:06.776+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Impasse</title><summary type='text'>If today were yesterday and tomorrow were today, there is no need to despair for the promise of sunset shall be fulfilled sleep shall bring to reality all the fantasies that Dr. Seuss sees from the other end of the telescope. It must be sufficient to fuel the zest to try again should tomorrow becomes today. To try what again? Why, LIFE, what else?A crippled author under the mercy of his deranged </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112045201781184530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112045201781184530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/impasse.html' title='Impasse'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112031622269373466</id><published>2005-07-02T22:29:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T22:57:04.743+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Empie-Four Seasons-Sprite</title><summary type='text'>My head still hurts from what I drank last night at Leng's party. Everybody, spell A-W-E-S-O-M-E. The best parties do not have to include a long guest list and loud music. It's all in the hostess. Kudos!^_^At some point, presumably when the alcohol has kicked in, everybody was in the pool IN THEIR CLOTHES. I was. I went home this morning wearing wet undies. Good thing Tins, Chevy and I were in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112031622269373466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112031622269373466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/empie-four-seasons-sprite.html' title='Empie-Four Seasons-Sprite'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112019144237065329</id><published>2005-07-01T11:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T12:17:22.376+08:00</updated><title type='text'>To the Artsy-Fartsy Filipino Film Junkies</title><summary type='text'>July 9, Saturdaypelikula @ titus brandsmaTitus Brandsma Center24 Acacia St.,New Manila, QC1:00 PMSHIT HAPPENS(2005, 15 mins.)By Nich Retz PerezA comic philosophical take on the meaning of life and the metaphorical pieces of shit of existence. Features a broken-hearted imaginative student and an enigmatic Philosophy professor (Peque Gallaga).PUSONG LIGAW, PUSONG HILAW(2005, 7 mins.)By Rene DurianA</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112019144237065329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112019144237065329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/07/to-artsy-fartsy-filipino-film-junkies.html' title='To the Artsy-Fartsy Filipino Film Junkies'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112012615708826840</id><published>2005-06-30T18:04:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T18:09:17.093+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boys of Summer</title><summary type='text'>...have gone. ...have been dispatched, rather.Nobody on the roadNobody on the beachI feel it in the airThe summer’s out of reachEmpty lake, empty streetsThe sun goes down aloneI’m drivin’ by your houseThough I know you’re not at homeBut I can see you-Your brown skin shinin’ in the sunYou got your hair combed back and your sunglasses on, babyAnd I can tell you my love for you will still be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112012615708826840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112012615708826840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/boys-of-summer.html' title='Boys of Summer'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-112004009748328376</id><published>2005-06-29T17:52:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T18:30:40.290+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What is it about my blog?</title><summary type='text'>I've been asked this question innumerable times by Voldemort.I've been seriously contemplating on closing down this blog. I don't see any point for this anymore. The angry-psychotic-skank-contaminating-the-serene-blog universe-episode left me with that not-so-welcomed guilt. My brutal frankness and honesty has affected my closest blogger friends [except for Mar-dee-kay who was practically </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112004009748328376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/112004009748328376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/what-is-it-about-my-blog.html' title='What is it about my blog?'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111979197359126849</id><published>2005-06-26T20:49:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T12:44:16.986+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gising na Tulog</title><summary type='text'>Lutang pa rin ang aking diwa mula sa mga pangyayari kagabi. Pumunta kame ng Tagaytay. Nag-hemp at V. Meron pang hash pero buti hindi na nilabas. Sosyal! Vodka Tonic ang inumin na meron pang kasamang Maraschino cherry pero imbis na tonic water ay Sprite ang halo.Meron akong nakita na hindi ko inakalang makikita ko kahit kailan sa buhay ko. Natulala na lang ako. Hindi ito bastos kung yun ang inyong</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111979197359126849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111979197359126849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/gising-na-tulog.html' title='Gising na Tulog'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111969781024983122</id><published>2005-06-25T18:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-26T20:48:56.706+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Angels</title><summary type='text'>What do angels look like?Like the little old lady who returned your wallet yesterday.Like the taxi driver who told you that your eyes light up the world, when you smile.Like the small child who showed you the wonder in simple things.Like the poor man who offered to share his lunch with you.Like the rich man who showed you that it really is all possible, if only you believe.Like the stranger who </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111969781024983122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111969781024983122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/angels.html' title='Angels'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111960081983683098</id><published>2005-06-24T16:11:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-24T16:13:39.840+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesdays with Morrie</title><summary type='text'>Tonight at 9:00 on Hallmark Channel.Gon' watch this first before goin' out with Chevy! Yebah!We have to see each other on her first day back in P.I. Woohoo!^_^</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111960081983683098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111960081983683098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/tuesdays-with-morrie.html' title='Tuesdays with Morrie'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111952473435928730</id><published>2005-06-23T18:45:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T19:05:34.366+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hollywood Anorexia</title><summary type='text'>I was watching The Tonight Show with Jay Leno last week. Hilary Duff was his guest. She was wearing this floral tube dress top. I don't really remember what she was wearing. I was too focused on how thin she had become.I loved Hilary in Lizzie Maguire. She was super adorable. But, seeing her on Jay Leno, I wonder what happened to that sweet-looking girl. I know I know, she's not some Barbie doll </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111952473435928730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111952473435928730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/hollywood-anorexia.html' title='Hollywood Anorexia'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111943662202024246</id><published>2005-06-22T17:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-22T22:04:10.620+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes They Come Back</title><summary type='text'>I'm on Cloud 9. Bliss is an understatement for what I feel.People come in and out of our lives. We can only convince ourselves that everything happens for a reason. God has a purpose for every one of us.It all began a couple of weeks ago, specifically the night before I went to Dagupan with TGIS. Nico sent me an SMS inviting me to hangout. We had Toska, Mountain Dew, Marlboro, Microwave Popcorn </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111943662202024246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111943662202024246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/sometimes-they-come-back.html' title='Sometimes They Come Back'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111932870225618113</id><published>2005-06-21T12:22:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-21T12:38:22.263+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cardinal Jaime Sin (1927-2005)</title><summary type='text'>Another effective leader of the church passed away today. It's scary. Could the apocalypse be around the corner? Let us all pray for the eternal repose of the soul of our dear cardinal.Read about it here.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111932870225618113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111932870225618113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/cardinal-jaime-sin-1927-2005.html' title='Cardinal Jaime Sin (1927-2005)'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111925678473322648</id><published>2005-06-20T15:12:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-20T22:04:52.530+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Such Insolence and Betise</title><summary type='text'>This has gone far out of hand. At first, I thought I could keep up with it but, unfortunately, my assailant proved more ridiculous than I deemed possible. She cannot present a worthy cause for such behavior - lack of netiquette as aptly stated by Abi. The only evidence we have proves that she is an INSECURE UNCULTURED OTIOSE IMBECILE whose vocabulary is limited to nonsensical blabble.She claims </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111925678473322648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111925678473322648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/such-insolence-and-betise.html' title='Such Insolence and Betise'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111915551564338337</id><published>2005-06-19T11:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T12:31:55.650+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music Baton</title><summary type='text'>Oh my, the music baton was passed to me by Bob and Ariane. I realized I might as well get it done now instead of later when I've no one left to pass it to!^_^Total volume of music files on my computer: 30+ GBThe last CD I bought: Oh gosh, been so long. Kazaa is my best friend.(^___^) [bad Floi-floi] Oh! Chrome Eight's EP: Extended Play! Righty-o, Kassy.^_^Song playing right now: Urbandub - </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111915551564338337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111915551564338337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/music-baton.html' title='Music Baton'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111915206637934938</id><published>2005-06-19T11:27:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-19T11:34:26.386+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Murphy's Laws</title><summary type='text'>1. Nothing is as easy as it looks. 2. Everything takes longer than you think. 3. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. 4. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage will be the one to go wrong. 5. If anything simply cannot go wrong, it will anyway. 6. If you perceive that there are four possible ways in which a procedure can go wrong, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111915206637934938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111915206637934938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/murphys-laws.html' title='Murphy&apos;s Laws'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111908809229102687</id><published>2005-06-18T17:41:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-18T17:48:12.296+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Good to be True</title><summary type='text'>I saw an ad for cheap airfare to Kota Kinabalu and Kuala Lumpur on Libre.I checked out the website and was astonished. Indeed, Air Asia charges PHP 909.00 for a one-way trip to Malaysia from Clark PH.Now, I really have to work on my passport!See it here.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111908809229102687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111908809229102687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/too-good-to-be-true.html' title='Too Good to be True'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111883004781660755</id><published>2005-06-15T17:39:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-15T18:07:27.830+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Galera II bit 1</title><summary type='text'>I looked out the office window this afternoon and was washed with memories of my second trip to Puerto Galera [May 14-16]. I have no idea why. The view is nowhere similar to White Beach.Life in Puerto Galera is idyllic. It is my dream retirement. We stayed in this bahay kubo (nipa hut) without air conditioning, fluorescent lighting, appliances, not even comfy beds. The hut stands in a mango </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111883004781660755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111883004781660755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/galera-ii-bit-1.html' title='Galera II bit 1'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111866446529734842</id><published>2005-06-13T19:06:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-10-20T13:22:43.536+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Check the date before you rant!</title><summary type='text'>Whenever I go online, I first log on to YM, then visit my blog, click on my stalker stats and check how many visitors I've had and what site they came from. I've had not so pleasant experiences in my blog that made me resort to such security measures.I was quite amused to find that someone found my blog by searching Lex.ir Roduta on Yahoo. The search has two results: the November posts on my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111866446529734842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111866446529734842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/check-date-before-you-rant.html' title='Check the date before you rant!'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111858409786887463</id><published>2005-06-12T21:34:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-12T21:48:17.876+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Humor Post</title><summary type='text'>Sunday dinner is one of the meals I most dread because it is the time of the week when I sit down with the family to pretend we've open communication lines and miss Will and Grace to talk about things we've started discussing years ago.I'm planning to go back to school. I have so many plans. Too many that it might take me a year's worth of post if I discuss each.Inevitably, Mum is part of the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111858409786887463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111858409786887463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/humor-post.html' title='Humor Post'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111839143074014532</id><published>2005-06-10T16:15:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-10T16:17:10.746+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Advil</title><summary type='text'>nakngtokwa sakit ng ulo ko!Makapag-badminton na nga lang.Maligayang Sabado't Linggo at Lunes sa inyong lahat! Yey long weekend.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111839143074014532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111839143074014532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/advil.html' title='Advil'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111830605092874639</id><published>2005-06-09T15:55:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T16:34:10.976+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Unsolicited Comfort</title><summary type='text'>In life...the greatest handicap is FEAR.the hardest thing to do is BEGIN.the most useless asset is PRIDE.the scariest thing to make is CHANGE.the greatest mistake is GIVING UP. Sometimes, comfort comes when you least expect it. This morning, Chris SMSed me the previous quote. Friends do have an invisible string to connect them and tell them when one needs a tap on the shoulder or a stroke o the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111830605092874639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111830605092874639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/unsolicited-comfort.html' title='Unsolicited Comfort'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111822244456826053</id><published>2005-06-08T16:54:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-09T15:14:27.823+08:00</updated><title type='text'>In a Relationship</title><summary type='text'>Relaaax... I still am NOT.It seems everyone else is, though. Inggit tuloy ako. Even John is now committed. *thinking*Sige, unang manligaw sasagutin ko. Nyahaha!^_^ADD: C/O Vea, Fed now has a gf also. huhuhu...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111822244456826053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111822244456826053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/in-relationship.html' title='In a Relationship'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111813617095918074</id><published>2005-06-07T17:17:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T17:22:50.963+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Job</title><summary type='text'>How can someone who is notorious for breaking the rules set and implement THE rules? I'm working on the house rules for the staff house. Shiet! How can I enforce people to not smoke, not drink, not bring in visitors, keep their area clean and tidy, turn off the TV by 1AM and minimize noise when I'm pretty certain I MYSELF couldn't?!This is sooo effin' hard and it'll only get harder if I don't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111813617095918074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111813617095918074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/tough-job.html' title='Tough Job'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111813501645859202</id><published>2005-06-07T16:57:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-07T17:03:36.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally Found</title><summary type='text'>I fin'lly found what I've been looking for...We're fin'lly what I've been hoping for...He loves her! He loves her!I couldn't be any happier...Though at the back of my mind I sing...When I saw you at the grocerystore,you were sharing a shopping cart with herand I couldn't turn and run awayI didn't know what to sayyou introduced us for the first timeand I had to look her in the eye but you could </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111813501645859202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111813501645859202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/finally-found.html' title='Finally Found'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111778357621743064</id><published>2005-06-03T15:23:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-03T15:46:19.410+08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Bootie Call</title><summary type='text'>                                                                    Alam na...</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111778357621743064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111778357621743064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/its-bootie-call.html' title='It&apos;s a Bootie Call'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111771995174244725</id><published>2005-06-02T21:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T22:21:59.400+08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Phone was Reformatted</title><summary type='text'>I'm still in shock. It's all too sudden.I am now a wandering ghost. I lost EVERYTHING - contacts, calendar, to-do, notes, poems, .wav files...Please email me your mobile phone numbers at flirt.in.a.skirt@gmail.com or pm me on YM at skirts_are_for_flirts.Thank you very much.My letter of salvation: (sent through Friendster)Subject: A Very Funny AnecdoteHeya! Sup?I have a very funny story to share. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111771995174244725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111771995174244725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-phone-was-reformatted.html' title='My Phone was Reformatted'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6119246.post-111770350588801351</id><published>2005-06-02T16:10:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2005-06-02T17:11:45.936+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Profundity* At Last</title><summary type='text'>*only with a different definition.I did something profoundly stupid last night. On my way home, I crossed paths with this cute geekoid at the MRT. Upon loading the train, he ushered me to go first. We sat across each other. While he avoided looking me in the eye, I could see him looking with my peripheral vision. Well, you can always feel when someone is looking at you even if they're at your </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111770350588801351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6119246/posts/default/111770350588801351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cluelessss.blogspot.com/2005/06/profundity-at-last.html' title='Profundity* At Last'/><author><name>satisfy.me</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10386692151260733116</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_6aHoMGh7rro/SBPLc1XA05I/AAAAAAAAAAM/xRGgZ3O1Fw8/S220/DSC00463.JPG'/></author></entry></feed>
