In desperate need of a brain detox to eliminate lethal toxins caused by killer workloads - - tons of work that crammed most of 2004 and is now seeping through 2005. My mind is burning out or ready to combust. A syringe of bucolic thoughts must be injected soon into my cerebrum to keep me sane. Rejuvenation is in order. A vacation is needed soon.
Talks of a Bohol trip last Saturday certainly pacified the poisons eager to murder my happy thoughts. I must fly to pristine waters and crystal sands soon. There are no monsters on this trip. Fresh feeling is also on board and a wonder cure for my damaged brain.
Switching to a different nerve, my cerebrum’s right hemisphere can’t recall if this occurred mid-December or during the last week before 2005. Blog material at the time but it never made the printing press at all. Blame again pointed at the killer workload.
Now oiled and infused with new ink, the machines are running again with gusto. Just in time to appease the gods dismayed at this meager half-mortal Souljacker. The dismayed gods: the god who watches the dusk, the god who incessantly asks if it’s safe, and the Norse god of thunder who nowadays enjoys singing are looking for offerings. Well, the motors are running smoothly so l bloggeth once more.
PISS STOP
The boss called at about 10 that morning wondering where the hell I was and to remind me of a 10:30am appointment. Panic-stricken I jumped out of bed, told the boss I was on my way. After a quick shower, a not-too-good shave, and wearing not-too-well-ironed clothes, I ran off to catch a taxi ride.
But the snagging of the taxi was difficult. Four times I hitched for a cab and four times I got busted. The driver would ask “saan kayo?” I would reply “Katipunan lang ho.” Then the driver would yell “ay ayoko dun trapik!” and leave me alone and deserted on the sidewalk. I decided to do the next best thing. I hauled the incoming FX that said “Cubao Tuazon”. Now the drop off from the FX would make me walk a few blocks to the office and lose precious seconds off the clock, but it was a lot better than a sweltering hot jeepney with lesser stop points and less contamination from carbon dioxide.
Now seated smug at the front passengers side of the FX, I was ready and raring to go. The bells rang, the gates opened and the race was on. I was furious at every pedestrian crossing, every vehicle blocking the way, and every traffic light turning red. The clock on my cell phone read 10:31am and I was late. But I was nearing the corner of Aurora Blvd. and Katipunan Ave. which meant I was almost there. Then, all of a sudden, the friggin driver turns right to pit stop at the corner Caltex station. Not to gas up but to piss! It wasn’t an empty gas tank but a friggin filled up urinary bladder!
Nonchalantly, the driver got off from his FX and headed towards the men’s wash room for his needed piss. All the cussing I could think of in English and Filipino were whispered that day.
After what seemed an eternity the driver returned to the steering wheel. At this point the cell phone started ringing again. It was the boss. And I wasn't able to muster enough courage to answer him. I was almost there anyways.
As we turned left around the Bayani-designated U turn slot, right before us in front of the Katipunan station of the MRT 3, lo and behold! It was a 5 vehicular collision involving five jeepneys. All banged up from front to rear. The smoke was still fresh and the passengers were still in their seats all in a state of shock.
If you ask me how the fuck this happened, well…I still can’t fathom to this day. Freaky as they say. Now this was not an accident with innards, brains and blood all splattered on the road. But it was enough to smash the thick fronts of the jeepneys halfway - - and you know how metal thick those old jeepneys are - - and leave sore bruises to the poor unsuspecting passengers.
There I was imagining what could’ve happened if we we’re a few seconds or minutes earlier? Might've been worse.
It was at this point that I turned to the driver and said, “Pre buti na lang umihi ka.”
The driver, eyes widening slightly with hairs raising from both his hands and forearms replied, “Oo nga no?!”
Mach 3 Turbo 3D Animated Unveil. Two months to make. Athough the bulk of the work was done by our talented animator, I was still around for moral support.
Gillette Sales Conference. Theme: WWII. Our first attempt at compositing. One month to finish. Eat your heart out Spielberg.
