Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Crazy Stupid


It's 11:40 pm. I have a ton of work stuff to finish and I'm suddenly craving for a cig. In times like this, I find that making a list - any kind of list - helps settle me down.

One of my favorite excuses is "..because I can". Because I can, I've done some crazy stupid stuff over the years.

Here are some that I can remember

In the 80s. I grew a moustache, shaved half of it and kept it like that for most of a work-week. I remember that it was suppposed to be an act of protest about something but, for the life of me, I cant remember anymore whatever it was I was protesting. I was working in a bank at that time. I didn't stay long.

I've shared a joint twice in my entire life. The first time was my first week in college and I was diagnosed with hepatits the next day. The second time was years after in my friend's house and we all had a laughing trip. I've never really had the urge to try it again although one time in Sagada my friends and I were waiting to be offered (cause that's whats supposed to happen in Sagada) but that didnt happen. I wanted to try Ecstasy when I was in my 30's but never did.

In one of my first trips abroad, I had the bright idea of bringing home free toiletries from my hotel as pasalubong. Not content with what I collected from my room, I was caught by the chambermaid taking stuff from her cart (which was outside the door of a room that wasn't mine). In my embarassment, I put them all back and skulked away.

In the 90's, I invented this imaginary friend (Mr. Ho) with whom I would have loud, engaged conversations. In public. In front of strangers. All the time. And then it wasn't funny anymore, just strange.

A friend and I accepted a dare from other friends to have ourselves strapped to a slingtshot-like contraption that flung us hundreds of feet away from the ground. It felt like my balls were in my mouth and a scream was stuck in my throat.

On another dare, I walked around the streets of Tokyo like a duck for the better part of one afternoon.

One New Year's eve, I was so drunk I have pictures of myself lying along Ayala Avenue that I dont remember having been taken.

A few years ago, in a club in London, I started screaming Tagalog curses while in the middle of the dance floor because it seemed like a fun thing to do at that time. I was a little (alright, very) drunk but sensible enough to stop when a friend reminded me that a lot of Tagalog cuss words have Spanish or Latin origins (i.e. Puta......a) :-) might be understood by the stoned Europeans around us.
Hmm...practice kissing (with tounge of course) and howling at the full moon :-) , hurling wine glasses at the Roxas Boulevard breakwater shouting Mazel Tov in what I thought to be a French Jewsih accent (long story, I also went through a Black Russian phase, longer story)

This is most likely not a complete list, let me know of anything else that should be in it (at the risk of embarassing yourself for having been part of whatever stunt you remember me doing, haha)

I really have to go back to work now. I still want a cig.