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I need a mother effing drink
Seriously dude, you whine way too much.

Writer's Block: Sony Cyber-shot TX5

If you had a weather resistant camera, where would you take it?

The obvious answer here, with a typhoon bearing down on us, is right gob-smack in the middle as it makes landfall in a coastal area.

Yes, terrifyingly powerful winds DO count as weather. Come out of that storm shelter, yellowbellies, the fun's about to... OOH A ROOFTOP!

Writer's Block: Rescue mission

If someone intentionally set fire to your home and you had ten minutes to get out, would you try to save the arsonist or your belongings?

Wha? Why the hell would I save the arsonist?

And as such: memeage

via deosanco

1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, a word, etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to ask you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, you must post this in your LJ or whatever.
I pray all of you teenaged hedonistic heathens who didnt do anything in the five days after the collective national funeral, that makatikim sana kayo ng kalupitan, karahasan, at kadiliman na bumalot sa bansa magmula 1971 hanggang 1986.

Sana ay maranasan ninyo ang takot na nagmumula sa pangangailangang manahimik upang mabuhay.
It has been close to a decade since I last considered myself a political.

As a citizen of a nation, I considered it my duty in January 2001 to step forward into the streets, gather at the crossroads of history, and abide by a hastened succession in line with a rule of law amended by popular outcry from the streets.

Now, I watch my news feeds, observe my Plurk timelines, listen to AM radio, and despair.

Not only are the ones who should be sallying forth carrying the torch my generation drops from nerveless fingers nerveless already, some glory in historical revisionism 20 and 30 years hence.

In less than a year, the opportuntiy comes once more for me, as a contribtor to this nation to make my choice be read. I wonder, if any of the choices then will be worthy.

I look for an excuse to raise my voice.

I look for those who will stand with me.

I wonder and gaze at the wasteland to be.


Today is Memorial Day in the US.

And I know this is a UK poem, but then again... all war is hell.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

The card represents the critical factor for the issue at hand.
Nine of Wands (Strength): A pause in the current struggle to ready oneself. Preparation to meet the final conclusive onslaught. Forces assembled in anticipation of trials and tribulations. The steeling of the will to stand or fall. A line drawn in the sand