More music to listen to.
I just finished the latest issue of The Walking Dead. If you aren't familiar it's an ongoing comic book about a group of people surviving a zombie apocalypse. It sounds like your average zombie story but it isn't. The way they treat their characters and the way they show the evolution of the characters helps make the comic book character seem more 3D. Also, the writers are incredibly skilled at portraying the character's struggles to remain human while surviving in the land of the dead.
I was gonna blog about something but I totally forgot what. Then I abandoned this post for some weeks now.
Now it is a Wednesday night, I should be reading the rest of Kudaman, our assigned Filipino reading. It's a Palawan epic recited by some dude named Usuy. Right about now, I should be getting to the part where he gets wasted on rice wine, then transcends into another level of existence. But no. I'm slacking off. I was lying down just a while ago, thinking about signatures. When I was a kid the first things I had to sign were things like mealcards. No biggie. All you have to do is write your name. It's not like a legit legal document. Then come the documents my dad made me sign. You know you're fucked. Back when the other kids would practice their signatures in their notebooks, you thought, "what the fuck is the point?" Now I'm fucked. My dad was all serious. MAKE SURE YOUR SIGNATURE IS EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE LAST ONE. What the fuck!? WHY??!?! Jesus. How medieval is that?! Verifying the authenticity of a document based on the precision of someone's ballpen etchings!!!
...Okay fine. It's still pretty practical. But jeeeeeezzzz. Why the pressure?! I mean, I was still just a kid! What if my handwriting changed!? What if I felt like I wanted to change it??? There should be a system wherein kids that sign documents register the changes in their signatures. So that the motherfuckers that make us kids sign those motherfucking documents keep up with us.
And that is my rant on signatures.
Also, SOSE night is coming up in a few days.
FUUUUUUUUHUUUUUUUUUUCK YEAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I'll be looking back at this post and thinking about whether it was awesome or not. Last time I went drinking, I thought I was going to die. Perfect timing too. Kudaman's all about getting blasted now. Our teacher, Alvin Yapan, shared stories about his own drunken experiences. He told us about how he and his buddies toured Luzon after graduation. Just before Reality set in. They drank at a beach at La Union and took shot after shot of brandy. They thought it was all good fun 'til the stuff finally took effect. The next thing he knew, he was on his bed and it was morning. He blacked out. When he asked his friends the told him that he got MEGA-wasted that night. He started speaking in Bicolano and everyone thought he was just losing his shit. When they had enough they told him to pack his stuff up. He was very obedient. When he got to his room, he lied down on his banig because he was told to sleep. However, he didn't really sleep. He just lied there with his eyes wide open. Even a flashlight pointed at his face couldn't get him to close them. If I were there I'd be afraid that he just died on me.
Pretty cool story. I love his other stories and lectures. The reviews were right. You WILL learn a lot from Alvin Yapan. I am glad I got him as my teacher.
Anyways time to read Kudaman then dream of being a rockstar.
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