fallacious defined 2

i’m giving my usual fecal-material-related posts a rest (cue collective sigh…of relief, I hope), to give way to a more inspired, a more relevant, and – brace yourselves for some brilliant use of pun – a more intellectually digested topic: suicide-inducing blunders.

(commercial: talking about feces - can’t help myself – I’m about to get a physical and I’m pretty sure that everyone is familiar with fecalysis. They give you this plastic condiment cup – pray that it comes with a cover – kind of like the ones they use to serve ketchup in Wendy’s, and they ask you to give your “freshest” stool specimen, collected from your bum 2-3 hours before your check-up. now, the thing is, when you look at the plastic cup, you’re confronted with the question of quantity. Zag told me that it should just be a “kurot” – as in a “pinch” of salt. first of all, who pinches shit? - don’t answer that. second, if they only need a “kurot ng tae,” then why the plastic cup that suggests generous serving? it’s probably cheaper than those cotton buds with plastic cover used by CSI’s. you’re probably thinking what i’m thinking – i’m going to saunter into the examination room, whip out my stool specimen, and give those doctors the surprise of their life – cherry-topped macaroon ala turd.)

on to my blunders. just one, for this post. i was hanging out the other day with Grossy and Sponge Booba (my SO’s new alias. Don’t ask, won’t tell.) in our favorite haunt, Double Deck. they have cheap beer and great Anyhows (grilled livestock entrails, in particular), excellent for those who rarely use their liver and arteries. the place’s design concept resembles that of PierOne, with its multi-tiered approach to “dining & wining.” like icing, we prefer to be on the topmost layer, exposing ourselves to the elements and Double Deck’s infamous sound system (which their waitress proudly claims to be “sadyang basag”). unlike Grossy’s Makati hotspots (V bar, Azzurro, Capone’s), Double Deck boasts of a crowd of seasoned beer-guzzlers, which includes your over-30 demographic - this means that people pretty much will leave you alone. except when you do something remarkably stupid. there are times when I feel that my statuesque frame does more harm than good – riding in jeepneys, shopping for pants and shoes in greenhills (apparently, the knock-off industry caters to midgets and dyslexics – saw a football jersey in Market! Market! that has the word “Protugal” strewn across its left shoulder). that time, it definitely did me some harm – just add two klutzes into the mix and we will be called the “harmed ones.” (caught yourself smirking to a corny joke, eh?) moving on, given that it was cold and i’ve had a couple of bottles already, i needed a piss. nothing beats a good piss when you’re solb (tipsy), few people will argue the fact that it’s nearly orgasmic. the restrooms in Double Deck are located on all floors except the roof deck, so i had to go down a flight of stairs, and enter a glass enclosure for private functions before i got to the men’s room. it was no trouble really, i still could see straight – meaning i wasn’t hitting on any MILF’s yet, maybe if it were someone like Cristina Gonzales, now that’s a fine looking ermats. as i was saying, my depth perception was still okay, i didn’t perform any of my gymnastic routines while traversing the steps of Double Deck, so i was confident that getting out of the rest room doesn’t need my full concentration. if you’ve ever seen me walk, especially if i’m alone, you’d notice that i walk with my chin down. not that i’ve ever been humble or meek, but i just don’t like it when i make eye contact with strangers, especially old men who tend to stare a bit longer than what is deemed decent. i find it violating, being ogled at. so, as i headed out of the enclosure, i failed to notice the glass partition that people don’t normally run into. i have to thank the maintenance staff of Double Deck for keeping things pristine, that glass and its existential presence was indeed a piece of work. good thing I had my hands in front of me that prevented me from giving the glass a good smooching. as i calmly tapped the glass with my right hand while shaking my head thinking, “great, just great,” i realized that i had an audience on the other side of the glass – around four badminton enthusiasts, out for a night cap. what’s truly remarkable about the whole incident is how those four people composed themselves, giving me ample time to run up to the roof deck before they laughed their bladders and tear ducts out. all i could tell Grossy and Sponge Booba when i got back to our table was, “Uwian na tayo.”

and that, my friends, is another definition of the word “fallacious.” you guys can laugh now.