on immortality

like, what do you think of immortality?
what, to you, is immortality?
if you are alive, and you are alive forever, but no one knows who you are, are you immortal?
if you do not age, but you could be wounded, justlike the greek gods (ares comes to mind--the coward who runs away from battles once wounded)are you immortal?

what if you are immortal, and all your friends die, and the world explodes?
let's say you're floating in outer space, lungs withered from lack of air, you feeling all sorta pain, like chest pains or burns, you flying in space, trapped between the scorching heat of the sun and the blistering outer space cold.
you shout, help, but since you're in space, no one can hear you.

what if, right?
to make matters worse, what if you got donald trump's hair?
now that sucks, doesn't it?

in the zoo, to escape boredom, animals masturbate.
what if you're just left with your upper torso?
how can you fight your own boredom?

do you still think immortality is inviting?

*this message has been brought to you by random-thought-of-the-day.com, the site that doesn't exist.*

superhero

You see the logo of Mozilla Firefox.
Hello and welcome to our humble town with a population of seven hundred thirty-nine. Formerly, this was a village, but, well, things happen. Shit happens. Three quarters of our population are made of the tourists who stay here. The rest, we’re the survivors of a calamity, we’re the only ones left. Not a lot of people leave after staying here, you see. We’re the true citizens of this town, this town which used to be a village, and we are your slaves.
You see the logo of Cartoon Network.
What’s that? No. No, you aren’t seeing a small jet plane, or a kite, or a blimp. That noise isn’t an engine noise. It’s either a laugh or a cry. We can’t tell, really. It’s a superhero, but it’s not even the shooting of the latest superhero film, since he killed, murdered, some say, he killed the whole superhero genre. You’re seeing our local superhero. Not that local though, because sometimes he also goes to the city to meet his sponsors.
You see the logo of Esprit.
What are you saying that we’re lucky to have a hero?
You see the Coca-Cola lettering.
He used to have a logo that looked like a pawn outlined in black. It was a white chess piece with a circle for a head, and below that, there was the body looked like a Florence flask, long and narrow at the neck, wide at the body, flat at the butt. He used to have a logo, and then he gave that logo up.
You see the logo of Adidas.
It took quite a time for the people to get used to that. Before, when he was still starting out, trouble would strike and the police would flash a signal in the sky that looked like a silhouette of his logo. When he gave his logo up, it took quite a while for him to respond.
You see the logo of Nike.
The people used to shout different names. They used to shout “PAWN!” or “SAVIOR!” and he’d be there. The name never mattered for him before. Now, people don’t know what to call him anymore.
You see the logo of Lacoste.
He used to look so clean. He had a grey leather hood on his head, a grey domino mask on his face, and a white leather suit, grey leather gloves and grey leather boots. No capes, because he used to have one and it tripped him up. At least that’s what he said. On his chest, the logo. A white pawn outlined in black. He used to look so clean, he still wears that outfit, sure, but now, he looks like he’s made of worn-out leather seats full of stickers.
You see the logo of Gatorade.
You see the logo of McDonald’s.
You see the logo of Johnny Walker.
You see the logo of almost everything. You see different logos except his own. Banks and restaurants and clothing lines and electronics companies. On his body, there’s Sony and Ferrari and Puma and Tommy Hilfiger. On his back, Apple and Nintendo and Calvin Klein. There’s Tag Heuer on one glove, Motorola on the other. One of his leather boots looks like a street artist played with it, courtesy of Marc Ecko’s Unlimited Footwear, while under the other boot, you see the logo of Diesel. On his mask, there’s Lee and Pik-Nik. On his hood, there’s Valve and Nickelodeon and MTV. There’s now more of his costume and less of him as a hero. We can’t even call him a hero anymore. He’s just a flying, punching, super billboard.
If ever you’re in trouble, let’s say there’s a mugger who’s pointing a knife at your neck, try calling for help. Try shouting “PAWN!” and he might come. That’s the name people gave him, after his logo, so when he gave the logo up, we were confused. we didn’t know what to call him, but in the end, we agreed on Pawn. Try shouting that when you’re in trouble. He might come. He just might come before the mugger sticks the knife in your neck and cuts off your jugular. He’ll come, to be sure, unless he’s in the city, signing contracts for his sponsors, promoting products, appearing in commercials. He’s got supersonic hearing. To be sure, he’ll hear you. What’s not sure is if he will come.
You see the logo for Kraft.
So what are you saying that we’re lucky to have a hero?
Well, sure, we used to be lucky. He appeared out of nowhere to save us when we needed it. It was a monster. You ever heard of that? The Ghost, they called him. That skinny man half Pawn’s height wearing black tights and a white mask with a Rorschach blot resembling a face. Heard of him? Pawn saved us from him. Maybe he killed him. Maybe Pawn killed The Ghost, I mean. Who knows? We were all out of the village, because that time this was still a village, we were all out of the village when that happened. We had to evacuate, because, well, they fought and it was such a big fight and it destroyed the place.
Doesn’t look much destroyed now, huh? Well, the first wave of tourist money helped us renovate, so sure, we welcomed tourists. Then we expanded the place into a town. Trouble is, they don’t stop coming anymore. You don’t stop coming and now we’re overrun and we’re now dependent on tourist money. The tourist money, that is to say, your money, and the Pawn. If we get rid of Pawn, if we stop the tourists from coming, our economy will fall.
You see the smiley.
Well, we asked Pawn to stay. That turned out to be our biggest mistake. Since he stayed here, this place has been overrun by tourists. Now our town’s getting poorer and poorer. Not really, but, well. Plus, we’ve been depending on his help to get us out of situations we could have gotten ourselves out of. Ever since he appeared, the Pawn, we’ve been crippled, especially when he began having those sponsors.
You see the logo for Atari.
You see the logo for IBM.
Well, I tell you, when he gave his logo up, people didn’t know who to trust anymore. People would shout his name and that’s all they can do. They can’t fight anymore. we can’t fight anymore. People would shout his name and he won’t come anymore. The Pawn, he’s killing us from inside.
Sure, we were lucky, we used to be lucky, but…well, what you’re saying, that we’re lucky to have a hero…
All we got is a prostitute.
You see the Playboy bunny.

EARWAX

(I frigging swear this is a true story, and it’s the story of my ear. It’s a true story, with a few exaggerations here and there.)

The day my left ear bled, that's the day I decided to seek medical attention.
The pain, it started because I didn't know how to swim. I still don't. I don't know how to swim, how to ride the bike. It started when I tried swimming, this pain. My dad held me horizontal against the water, said that's what his dad used to do to him, and he let go. I drowned.
Where was I? It would have helped if I was in the sea, because salt makes people float, like in the Dead Sea. Where I was, I was in a kiddie pool. That's how much I suck at swimming. I drowned in a kiddie pool.
As it happened, I've got a real large earwax in my left ear. That's the same earwax I had when I was a baby, and when it falls out these days, it's black. That's how old it is. I had that large earwax, though it's smaller now, and what happened, the water expanded it, and my left ear began hurting.
We went to an otorhinolaryngologist, an ear-nose-throat doctor, and it was real against me, because I thought I was fine.
In the clinic, there was this thing the doctor called a suction machine. It looked like a photocopy machine, but the top, instead of glass and a cover, it's got nozzles and sprays and a hose. Two meters. One's for suction, and it's measured by centimeters of Mercury, cmHg. The other, it's for spray, measured in pounds per square inch, psi. The doctor doesn't use that on me.
Instead, he took an ear pick, a really long one that can probably poke the eardrums, and before anything else, he sprayed my ear with water from a syringe, and it felt like a drill, only, it didn't drill anything.
The doctor used the pick on me, and it felt like he was scraping the skin off my ear canal, and it hurt so much, I told my mom, I ain't going back there. And the next day, my ear was bleeding, and it bled so much I could have made an ear blood drop museum. And I told my mom, I'm going back there.
The next week, the doctor was using the suction machine on me.
The next week, I had a pimple in my ear.
The next week, the pimple became a tumor.
The next week, it was a different doctor. I said, Doc?
Yeah?
Doc, how's the tumor?
And he looks at me, and he says, What tumor?
The next week, he said I should drop baby oil in my ear.
The next next next week, my earwax fell off. It was black, and it smelled like baby oil, because for weeks, I kept dropping oil in my ear. Doctor's advice. To soften it, he said. The earwax, not the ear. The doctor had another look at it, and there's still more earwax.
I'm going back to the doctor next week, and who knows, he might verify my theory that there's an earwax mine in my ear.
The moment it's verified, I'm posing in lettuce to demand that earwax should be turned into our national currency.

oyster

the password is oyster.
great. i almost forgot that other one,minutes after resetting my password and deleting my other blog. i deleted it. talking on a singular topic,boring as hell.
anyway,the password is oyster.
why am i posting this? i dunno. i figure that if i forget,because im bound to forget,i can look it up somewhere in the whole world wide wide wide porn-filled web,and i can find this post,and well, the password is oyster.

what's with oysters?
i dunno.random thought,i guess.if i made this blog earlier,i'd have thought of a porcupine and a humping stick,but that's too long.porcupine and its humping stick,so i wouldn't have used it in the first place. also,in the second place, it's weird.
on the third place, roseann said it's weird.
no. wait. she didn't say that. she said i'm weird.
cheers roseann.

this is paolo rodriguez, good evening,good night,if you're on the other side of the world, good morning,and the password is oyster.
or oysters.
i dont know.
i forgot.