The Rant of Salamander (or Whiled Peace Got Lawsuit Threat, OMZHSFG!)

Blogger’s note:

I consulted my editor (my self) and we agreed on the same opinion that some parts of this particular entry are drunk-talk and should be deleted.

I said to my self, hey self, you see, it’s all drunk-talk right?

Self said, undoubtedly, genius.

Gee, you really can talk. Thanks for saying that, I said to self. So what do you think, should we delete it?

Sensible idea.

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So with that, here’s the new version minus the drunk-talk.

[Originally written as indicated above the title and revised this 14th day of March.]


WTF! I forgot I have a blog, on its way to awesomeness perhaps, for some days at least. You see I was busy beating this and that deadline, some interviews, consuming book quota, Marlboros, brandy in my room, and all that sort of things. Keep me quite occupied.

And now what have we here!? Seems like fragments of my biography is now being written in progress by somebody in utmost hatred and storming details to boot complete with sexual perversions, threatening lawsuits, whatnots, and, ummm, physical abuse, ehh!? You can’t mean that, right, cause it’s porn, right? Oh, c’mon!

But the good thing is, you had something steam out. Well, I think and believe that must be a good thing. Quite good thing but not really.

Salamander rant on pride and insecurity as incriminated by a commentor:

Tell you straight: there’s always that element of pride as well as insecurity in all of us making this so-called great civilization of ours possible. I am both proud and insecure, so what? You know history? Now try to imagine our great Filipino heroes like Rizal and Ninoy minus the said pride and insecurity, or Dennis Trillio (you are crazy with Dennis Trillo, right?), or Jesus himself? You get the picture? Or else, you just made me suspect you are from Mars or your teachers have taught you everything but rubbish all these years, or you are an entity from the I, Robot.

More ranting:

Now let me quote you:

What do you think I should react after reading that blog? Don’t you think ill congratulate you for that hormonal imbalance you have?

Well, this is fucking sexual perversion to the nth level. And I am totally freaked out. Of course, we had not yet technically broke up when I had that said “hormonal imbalance” and I was no longer in my best of mood to have them all wasted inside you. You understand?

Still ranting:

Though it would take a whole course of linguistics to comprehend what you really mean in the later part of your comment, but anyway, I already developed a sixth sense to understand what you want to say.. So by deducing from your arguments, I come to this conclusion that you still found yourself wanting. So here’s the thing: I’ll give you more then but it would of course take me some dozen bottles of booze to allow myself to do that.

Now speaking of booze let me slug for you a couple shots of this brandy. Wait...
Now that’s better. Where was I?

Ah, yes, on that something on your wanting more. Well why not till I have my 30-day-drunk routine and that would be the best time you can have your heart’s desire even the half of my fwucking kingdowm. Or the head of John Rambo on a silver platter. Shit, that comes off bit biblical. Now where was I really... I neeed my fffpuwking paracetamol...

As I said, we’d been for 7 years together Lynmunchkins and for cripessakes I am too lazy to keep track of things or at least a list of things you’d blowed out on me and things I’d blowed out for you, time and all.

That said, let’s just put it this way (slow and easy and a bit whirly): in a relationship you invest something that we all called ‘a present’ or ‘a gift’. It is an act of goodwill that something which naturally flows out from us because we love the person, or supposedly love the person, without expecting anything. That is why we all called it a present or gift – freely given, right? And the one who did just that is the much better, divine person for doing such sublime thing.

However, if you say something to the contrary you are simply betraying, poisoning, corrupting its pure meaning, making your supposedly act of goodwill an act of fakery-phony-shallow-empty-gesture act of goodwill, and you just made babyjesus cry. Jesus might have liked to drink with me right now in my room. So here's a shot to sad Jesus.

NOW SpWeaking of an aCTt of gooOOOWIILll, let Me FEWVOOR yUO WIth anOWHTHER 7 quiWK SlugsZZ from this BUTTottle – a GAWd prosubstitute for dawwwt fouwwwnnt of wissssdom, ewwwpiffffhany, Jjjoooooy, shhhhittttt!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WAZ DA FUWCK MY HANDZ IZ DRUNK IT NOT WANT TO BEZ SEPARATED FROOM HEZ GLAASSS IT HIZS GLAAASS AND TEZ WONT LET GOO FRROM EACHH OWTHER..HEY HANDS LETS RAYT SOME MOOR RANTING OKEY??

WAT DA FUCK MAY HANZ IZ SOOO FWUCKING DRINKZ!


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[BWTF! Again? My hands won’t allow the revision but only on some parts they so hate with a passion. Then so be it.]