Ruth is a full-time writer. Foodie. Happy camper. Wanders a lot. Used to have the worst taste in men. A reformed swipe-a-holic. Reviving her blog after its death.
Monday, March 17, 2003
Bazooka Fortune: Cows Come, Cows Go, The Bull Goes on Forever.
***
“Putangna ni *bleep. Kupal sya. Panget. Malandi. Gaga. Boba. Inggitera. Insecure. Nuno. Dimonyo. Aswang. Pangako, ruthie, pag may magkamaling makabuntis gyan, anak nyan kambal na *bleep.”
So much rage, so much fire, and too many obscenities to translate in English. I haven’t read Pammy so worked up since EDSA Dos.
But as God as our witness, the bitch deserves all the hate thrown in her direction…
***
When Felice, Shayn, and me were on the road driving our way to that wonderful glass building in Ayala, I shared to them my not-so secret plans of getting myself knocked up at the age of 27-29. Without a husband.
Felice wanted me to deny this, or maybe she didn’t want to believe me. Even when I swore that I would really, really do it. I even have the perfect source of sperm in mind. You know what she told me?
”May moralidad ka pa rin naman kahit papaano. (I know you still have morality no matter how small.)”
Okay. Actually, I feel flattered that she thinks I would never do such a thing. She warned me about my mother probably accepting the situation, but my father would never understand. Besides daw, if I marry Gelo I can produce as many babies as I want.
But the thing is, I’m lusting over Gelo, but I do not love him. I want his literary sperms, but I don’t really care whether he screws his life or not. I just want his genes.
And I explained to her that I’m dead serious about this plan.
So after promising her that I will do it after I have a stable job, my own house, my own car, and I’m totally independent from my parents, she finally conceded. But with one last hirit.
”Pero ‘wag namang iba’t ibang ama ha. Mamaya may tatlong anak ka na galing sa iba’t ibang lalaki. Nakakahiya naman yun. (But be sure that you stick with one guy. It’s embarrassing if you have three kids with different fathers)”
I think I should try to stay clear of this topic in the future with her. Not because for fear that she would never understand, but because one of us will probably influence the other.
Just thinking about a liberated Felice walking in the street sends shivers to my spine.
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