tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11979322982124491222024-03-13T01:43:10.557-07:00Ramblings of a SuperhomeyI’m not an expert, just a geek who’s got some weird opinion about stuff. Not a tofu kind of organic consumer either, but at least—I’m nicotine-free. And certainly not Dr Phil Jr... Just PasckiePASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-33800674397806856162024-03-07T11:31:00.000-08:002024-03-07T11:31:12.260-08:00Old Talk: Relationships and Marriage. And Stuff. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Previously posted on my Facebook page. Or written years ago, unedited/not updated.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">RELATIONSHIPS and marriage aren't easy. Of course, there are these sweet little daydreams like, “I found my soulmate!” “It feels like I've known him/her all my life,” “I finally found someone who knows the meaning of love,” or “He/she is my life's journey and destination!” All the honeymoon romances, courtship tenderness and dating confections... Truth is, all these simmer down or subside a bit as life turns more real than ideal, and love rails in rollercoaster rides than rolls in a hay of steamy clinches. So it's time for compromises and negotiations.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1o7vTJaAYOTcDuWzdQOyVk52gZOeG6hbDn-ruzYNMBnx5X_K7kFcTX_5Tg5Yt_gvCrYVa3wE3jMLzaD3NEzvaoOZRvuB0fz2KcmdDxFVMR3cG2xa-NoTG1jzRz84kwOISGlDPlYhjaawrxPN2Xh6PN7vDtmDNJoD9vlW8njSW51Dg1kUzzW0bh8LYPXKo/s301/AI%20lover.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="167" data-original-width="301" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1o7vTJaAYOTcDuWzdQOyVk52gZOeG6hbDn-ruzYNMBnx5X_K7kFcTX_5Tg5Yt_gvCrYVa3wE3jMLzaD3NEzvaoOZRvuB0fz2KcmdDxFVMR3cG2xa-NoTG1jzRz84kwOISGlDPlYhjaawrxPN2Xh6PN7vDtmDNJoD9vlW8njSW51Dg1kUzzW0bh8LYPXKo/w400-h222/AI%20lover.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Are we still going to hang out with the boys in the band for a $50 beer-money on a weekly gig, write manifestoes and grants for activist equals pro bono, smoke awesome herbs and rant about politics that didn't go our way for half a day, live in a house that doesn't exude co-existence anymore but a bohemian's lair, sustain madnesses that feed the “soul” than take on jobs that pay bills just because he/she supports and trusts? Etc etcetera. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Are we still going to be the way we were when freedom flew like an adventuring albatross as a single individual with just morning coffee, evening wine and Herbie Hancock on turntable and on-time allegiance to “House of Cards” to worry about? Are we going to insist, “This is me! You have to accept the way I am!” or “You have to be friendly with all my friends because they are my friends!” or “I don't eat hummus and kale, I don't want those in my house” or “Don't mess with the living room, I want that Chinese imitation Picasso on that wall!” No, we can't. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">WE are two sets of truths mired in a singular vessel that floats in a turbulent sea of compromises and negotiations. Trust isn't just a word that is part of a serenade's lyricism anymore. Trust is now physically proven not pronounced. Respect isn't an awesome Aretha Franklin howl anymore. It is as simple as we are not man and woman in an enlightenment seminar or gender facts in a survey board anymore. We are simply human beings under one roof. Acceptance isn't about political correctness or cultural understanding anymore. It is now about roses in a swamp or fish on land. Deal with it and work things out. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgaww4u__MUBjY1LVWNc8D55f_vf82Y6PhXTe9UqAKiQY8cfv2b2L5yWgqhXYf09Rryc4NxxIYqIe5-NYaYGoW9cujLcEaf1XtiNmedza7kaPCsfixrDTnlSXwyRlCC3QNwYujK2TauYnhnwd-faSUU4oFfQmgQ3tyY5mOfoeq0ftHk_G2Oykh5IKtO95/s800/birds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgaww4u__MUBjY1LVWNc8D55f_vf82Y6PhXTe9UqAKiQY8cfv2b2L5yWgqhXYf09Rryc4NxxIYqIe5-NYaYGoW9cujLcEaf1XtiNmedza7kaPCsfixrDTnlSXwyRlCC3QNwYujK2TauYnhnwd-faSUU4oFfQmgQ3tyY5mOfoeq0ftHk_G2Oykh5IKtO95/s320/birds.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> More than anything else, love isn't about a Schubert sonata or a warm love poem anymore. I don't have a word for it but when I see friends and family who stick together through proverbial thick and think, storms and sunshines for many years and still managed to build and sustain stuff and things to leave their children and grandchildren, and the world at large—which is their love story and life's journey—then I know, it is possible. Very possible. But hard, very hard. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> I will be 55 years old this month... And in a long road trip to somewhere, when somewhere is always within me. Always inside of me. If I won't be able to find myself on the road, how am I supposed to co-exist with someone in a beautiful universe such as a home? If I can't accomplish that, then I will always be consigned on the road. Flying, running, searching until the sky caves in on me. 💖👫💔</span></p><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-36697548870430900722024-03-04T11:16:00.000-08:002024-03-04T11:16:40.364-08:00About Dogs and Cats and their Buddies. And some little jokes. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Previously posted on my Facebook Page.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">THE high-pitched squeak of a stuffed toy wakes a dog's dormant prey drive and compels him to shake, chomp, and dismantle. In the wild, the shaking serves as a way to disorient and immobilize prey. For Arrow, she’s just yielding to her surgeon self. She loves to perform surgery to a stuffed toy. Her hobby. She dismantles her toys not just because there’s a squeaky thingy in there. It’s because it’s her patient. 🐕🧸🐕</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj081UVQdfy0BgbFivunfXPmA3JLfOuHdtRhU4ok0bIyh-Q4x8SY1OYRZgoKQdt0b38WYM_-nrsLtPOhyNzH4WR2pDXGYfJUPc-9zNJv9WOXkmfQFlC3nWmFQn4qOrDNBSn-Tig84p2KEsqJm1_lPNiKa8HEbV0h82gTYJK_7h6qVEt8OgASou30EXmcb1/s1734/USED.awhen%20they%20fight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1301" data-original-width="1734" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj081UVQdfy0BgbFivunfXPmA3JLfOuHdtRhU4ok0bIyh-Q4x8SY1OYRZgoKQdt0b38WYM_-nrsLtPOhyNzH4WR2pDXGYfJUPc-9zNJv9WOXkmfQFlC3nWmFQn4qOrDNBSn-Tig84p2KEsqJm1_lPNiKa8HEbV0h82gTYJK_7h6qVEt8OgASou30EXmcb1/w400-h300/USED.awhen%20they%20fight.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">WHY do cats hide stuff? This could be a tactic for attention, play, and/or food, or sometimes your feline companion is simply following its animal instincts. In most cases, this is not a very problematic issue for pet owners; however, it is advisable to cat-proof your house if your cat has a habit of hoarding household items. Fizz has a habit of hiding her spring toys and forces me to find them and threatens to hide the TV remote if I don’t heed, pronto. 🐱😼🐱</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">CATS appear to enjoy engaging in a variety of mischievous behaviors, but this could be merely an attempt to attract attention rather than showing off their humorous side. And so, as far as science goes, it seems that cats are incapable of laughter and you can be comforted to know that your cat isn’t laughing at you. Though, if they did ever acquire the ability to do so, we suspect they would. Better be, your cat enjoys amusing themselves. So there you go, from the experts, who are also cats. 😺😸😹</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A MIND-BLOWING 170,000 different drink combinations. How is this possible? Just for latte combos: Pumpkin Spice Latte; Caffé Latte with Oatmilk; Cinnamon Dolce Latte; Butterbeer Frappuccino; Vanilla Crème Frappuccino; Cookie Butter Chai; Cinnamon Toast Drink; Cookies and Cream Frappuccino etc etcetera. You can make yours, whatever you desire. Coffee with Vodka: Caffelichnaya; Coffee with Fanta: Lattefantaztick; Coffee with Oreos: Frapporeo Coffee; Coffee with Lettuce: Caffelettucea. ☕😋☕</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCjrCiI7ZOXVfniKEKo99Gft0eFOKh9dHmQmqqekAfvxhHaI7Hrz726zIToIHRLBoOXNzOHGJ94bHXzVMsK8YZd1kTjK5MSrz-YYlbI1qyfxGfZbrDEgfDC5BGxEfker1TLV9JBtcXEJOztb2eU0QGU47L-zbdV8tbkZTceBW2Kt77PLCBnU994LXxSOy/s1393/USED.afternoon%20nap%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1393" data-original-width="1008" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPCjrCiI7ZOXVfniKEKo99Gft0eFOKh9dHmQmqqekAfvxhHaI7Hrz726zIToIHRLBoOXNzOHGJ94bHXzVMsK8YZd1kTjK5MSrz-YYlbI1qyfxGfZbrDEgfDC5BGxEfker1TLV9JBtcXEJOztb2eU0QGU47L-zbdV8tbkZTceBW2Kt77PLCBnU994LXxSOy/s320/USED.afternoon%20nap%203.jpg" width="232" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">SCIENTISTS report that a dog's sense of smell is 10,000 to 100,000 times more acute than a human's. Hmmmm. One of the reasons a dog has a much better smelling ability than we do has to do with the number of scent receptors: For every scent receptor a human has, a dog has about 50. Reason why Arrow smells or sniff-sniff everything when we walk or when she is outside. Then whatever she smells as suspicious or strange, she’ll report those to Fizz who then enters them in a databank for further analysis. 🐕👃🐕</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">MANY factors play into dog intelligence—such as sociability and problem-solving skills—and as a result different breeds have different capabilities. But as a general guide, the average dog has the mental abilities of a 2-year-old child, according to Live Science. But in case the dog lives with a cat, whose average IQ is 228, expect the dog to be smarter than the owner. A lot smarter, though most dogs (and cats) fake it. 🐕🥸🐕</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">LAZINESS, the quality of being </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=573218915&hl=en&sxsrf=AM9HkKlE8wDpIK_ymHrLl9htbEW-Qm1y4g:1697215290730&q=unwilling&si=ALGXSlbSiMNWMsv5Y0U_0sBS8EWzobt8wJCWwru9Vzg-Ara8zWrwDqWwNKrWcvRCPHVp-3Hl5ETaTdva3DpVJRNhlK28khxKGQ%3D%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">unwilling</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to work or use energy; idleness. A “correct” rationale for laziness or not going to work (there’s unemployment benefit): “I have long covid since 2007.” Or “I am so depressed after I watched Zelensky weeping on TV.” No apologies for my wicked pragmatism or cruel sarcasm. 😔🥱😴</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">WHY do dogs chase squirrels? While some dogs may just want to play with a squirrel, there are others who see a critter as their prey, and their predatory drive kicks in. Dogs who are predatory chasers are attempting to catch their prey — and eat or extinguish it. It could be that dogs simply want to be friendly and chat with the critters. Arrow does that. She barks and seems “aggressive.” But she’s not going to bite. She simply wants to say “Hi! There!” and ask, “Are we Facebook friends?” 🐕🐇🐩</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMRt15jPFdB4A5oJLCYnt8P4sJCSpriabT_0OI4X27aL1Se8Xsscn1318BWy6TirWWXi92Pi25RNYHNzveQk7tse-0Ev9HxVQ7J2pyNpmFkLxbPiPwuXcPe7T0I9UENsqxWhGs2IebRM_TiETXjMheWAgD08c7rBNZifi7h0e9tKNJ0rfp3qSIUpl0swDC/s1618/USED.chingayz%203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1618" data-original-width="915" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMRt15jPFdB4A5oJLCYnt8P4sJCSpriabT_0OI4X27aL1Se8Xsscn1318BWy6TirWWXi92Pi25RNYHNzveQk7tse-0Ev9HxVQ7J2pyNpmFkLxbPiPwuXcPe7T0I9UENsqxWhGs2IebRM_TiETXjMheWAgD08c7rBNZifi7h0e9tKNJ0rfp3qSIUpl0swDC/s320/USED.chingayz%203.jpg" width="181" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">WHY are cats obsessed with fridge? It is likely that your cat has been very observant and recognizes that the refrigerator is the source of food. Their sense of smell is much stronger than that of a human. It may be that your cat smells something tasty when the door is open. And so the cat informs the dog. 🐈🛍🐕</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">SOME experts believe excessive use of the Internet, cellphones and other technologies can cause us to become more impatient, impulsive, forgetful and even more narcissistic. Those experts are cats and dogs. 😕💻😡</span></span></p>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-55935133337049516102024-02-22T10:29:00.000-08:002024-02-22T10:29:42.897-08:00About Dogs and Cats and their Buddies. And some little jokes. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Previously posted on my Facebook Page. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">DOGS dream. Scientific research demonstrates comparable brain wave patterns in humans and dogs which validates this assumption. The conclusion is that dreams are part of the normal sleep cycle, and dogs do indeed have them! Arrow, in fact, talks in her dreams. A lot. Fizz takes note, analyzes them and texts those interesting findings to Arrow afterwards. 🐕🐕🦺😴</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_kqnLELMaphYUqiK285HkaEds0flwLeDd-oT1HceKgMZuSM_plxFl8N-ZcvyoSdrdjeItzzyo7u679b3wk69Eg4wGRMLPx1I7L9qdhEOd2ajVec1BCCjp0q3bEjcDtyOTqymiYt9GWzCBkCNq9ePJ9v6vRDmpa1TwQEe2IjsERHLvbozVNG_ws_Qoa0h/s1734/USED.achingy%20mo%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1097" data-original-width="1734" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_kqnLELMaphYUqiK285HkaEds0flwLeDd-oT1HceKgMZuSM_plxFl8N-ZcvyoSdrdjeItzzyo7u679b3wk69Eg4wGRMLPx1I7L9qdhEOd2ajVec1BCCjp0q3bEjcDtyOTqymiYt9GWzCBkCNq9ePJ9v6vRDmpa1TwQEe2IjsERHLvbozVNG_ws_Qoa0h/w400-h253/USED.achingy%20mo%201.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST, a person who treats mental conditions by verbal communication and interaction; a </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=571492166&sxsrf=AM9HkKlA4UVNrYTVBYTeJJMnhq-rS7eslA:1696695115837&q=psychotherapist&si=ALGXSlbmguQulcNG_yDKi8AKFQVFgczyOQGRLyTfaWz9dlOF-lzQ71S7s14BNJgeirOrYNP1RW10OxsyDoWyv3RJVatbRqdIMKWplA_o2kQvM7Ey4wU-VKI%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">psychotherapist</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. In these cellphone/texting times, we should double/triple-check what we text before the auto(in)correct (in)corrects us. For example, when you respond to a text question, “Where are you going?” Elaborate and (re)check. Don’t just type “...to therapist.” It may be sent as “...to the rapist.” It happens. 📱🥹📲</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DO dogs like baths? Like most answers to grooming questions, it depends on the dog. Some dogs get anxiety when it's bath time, and others are just as happy to jump in a bath of water as they are in a pond or pool. But you should know. You don’t need to visit a dog behaviorist for that query and spend $150. Save the money for another fancy toy for your dog, okay? 🦮🛁🐕🦺</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">ONE thing common to all drama queen dogs (and hoomans) is that they want you to buy into their drama. So if you start yelling or panicking or getting all worked up when your dog is overreacting, then you will just be fanning the flames. So you two might as well make a Netflix series drama series. Why don’t you stay calm, no matter what. So the cat won’t ridicule you again on Facebook for all the silly drama that you and your dog do, 24/7. You dig? 🐕🥵🐩</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">WHY is a bank teller called “teller.” The term “teller” is from the Olde English, meaning “to count.” Okay, that makes sense. The person behind the counter “counts” the money that is being exchanged. While customers still call them “tellers,” most financial institutions have moved away from using the term. Fizz The Wiz told me bank tellers are also tellers of tales on Facebook when they are on a coffee break. I guess. 👩💻🧑💻🧑💼</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKY3OlVdE1VKYfxoBWzzopbRpxhgzakFS8Ohng3T0URk9DRuvNw6_xug44GsIBA0-Q-kNCRlCuEhzLVNmlSyaH56NtbBu4BA59afV1UW2fLLwuMZ4OHHaodH3HMVBXoOL0hrJVAgk0Ptiq-BoeyUjTzqLKY1q1YGUDsWS6bcsCX4EAxLHDdV3bLszLjNHb/s1711/USED.arrowcar1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1711" data-original-width="969" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKY3OlVdE1VKYfxoBWzzopbRpxhgzakFS8Ohng3T0URk9DRuvNw6_xug44GsIBA0-Q-kNCRlCuEhzLVNmlSyaH56NtbBu4BA59afV1UW2fLLwuMZ4OHHaodH3HMVBXoOL0hrJVAgk0Ptiq-BoeyUjTzqLKY1q1YGUDsWS6bcsCX4EAxLHDdV3bLszLjNHb/s320/USED.arrowcar1.jpg" width="181" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DOGS read more into our tone and body language than our actual words. They focus on us and observe our physical clues to determine what we want them to do or not do. They watch our facial expressions, posture, and body movements. They listen to the tone of our voice. Reason why, lately, there’s been a 75.9 percent spike in depression among dogs. But not with cats. 🐕🥴🐕🦺</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">CATS are typically very stoic animals, so if your cat suddenly seems to be in distress–howling, crying, tossing the TV remote around–it is a cause for concern. Ching and Fizz aren’t whiner cats though. When Ching wants a backrub, she just cooly walks to the mat, no word, and we take heed. When Fizz wants to play with her spring toy, she calls us out for 3 seconds. Then she quiets down. When both ask how to find a new bird video/show on Netflix or YouTube TV, they send me a text or IM. 😸😼🙀</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">INTERROGATION, the action of </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=570874343&sxsrf=AM9HkKkQ9xvmmkGqesR9ql3tKoJvp3vEvA:1696522029921&q=interrogating&si=ALGXSlaUkho42PFSQFYO6kO7MTs2xnt0bbEY1SWHhTOA8VdRLbJ2MC2eByOCAetjsn_H9o5Bohv2F3ZFEMMZsm_9GOlbEewyspn0wsc_QClJOmlm8JLe5YU%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">interrogating</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or the process of being </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=570874343&sxsrf=AM9HkKkQ9xvmmkGqesR9ql3tKoJvp3vEvA:1696522029921&q=interrogated&si=ALGXSlb91IXEiYApD91csfAularip2qz860DIAalJUW3--j1h9HNi4YHCm0lBlGWaOHIDXeCtmMeLpJ0bGeVqXNG1EZzUHrjlj9tKJYLjWAzWTPPw9QKONA%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">interrogated</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. In the very near future, police interrogation will be done by an AI that is programmed by a cat. Imagine that! 🗣👤🤖</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DOGS read our body language and listen to our tone as we speak to them, which helps them decipher what we are telling them. This indicates that they also use both sides of their brain to understand human words. So yes, dogs are capable of knowing their name and nicknames. Cats though are a lot smarter. They know our names, nicknames, passport names, bitch names, TikTok names, 17 Facebook names, and passwords. 🗣🐕🐈</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZ3PSzqY1oMNBuYsr8HX-l_Wo2OacQWhxofD2GrawSZaZ0ipbNar1FTOYSNWw7oDXUk_ATlsDyKHVy5-BMoQAaoBIKdUlKrusWPnQkjX3Q1gXsL-l6lfnOzdQf-5UWwrXWD1UGhhDtbi13VEs0Byms_QqBuplN7FfU2uzS-NERe9lQQyQDpNxm3z_WUMg/s1734/USED.fizz%20bozz3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1734" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZ3PSzqY1oMNBuYsr8HX-l_Wo2OacQWhxofD2GrawSZaZ0ipbNar1FTOYSNWw7oDXUk_ATlsDyKHVy5-BMoQAaoBIKdUlKrusWPnQkjX3Q1gXsL-l6lfnOzdQf-5UWwrXWD1UGhhDtbi13VEs0Byms_QqBuplN7FfU2uzS-NERe9lQQyQDpNxm3z_WUMg/s320/USED.fizz%20bozz3.jpg" width="239" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">HIGH MAINTENANCE, of a person or relationship, or dog and cat, demanding a lot of attention and financial/luxury needs. Arrow: “I need 7 more minutes of sniff-sniff time every 30 minute interval on a day’s time. That’d be apart from morning bathroom and afternoon walk and evening bathroom. Ching: “My backrubs should be at 10:30 PM, to the dot. Not a minute late! And I want a larger TV screen for my bird video watch.” Fizz: “Don’t argue, that’s what our AI told us! Just do it!” 🐈👑🐕</span></span></p>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-60656151619725749312024-02-12T11:17:00.000-08:002024-02-12T11:24:45.701-08:00Politics. Life. And Stuff.<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Previously posted on my Facebook page.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">I REMEMBER an 18-year old daughter of a friend in Long Beach CA who went to Haiti for “fun and adventure” to help earthquake victims and came home totally a new human being. Now she questions dishwashers and washer-dryers (“Can we do these with our bare hands?”) cars and SUVs (“Walking is exercise”), cellphones (“There were 5 public phones in an entire village of 1500) video games (“We played soccer in the mud! Awesome!”) and television (“TV was like a moviehouse, scheduled for 35 villagers to watch one movie each week”) etc etcetera. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkzVY8dQhsGsNz5vNYXijGPGEZ2oJG2-Yi_RrPd1a0XJCJlxfPwK7ssoqz_uOgFnimn5i1rtmSbBEj3s7xpo4iqxu3jG9RrSpKdHajM38OBTEo46sinzdkWBXPWDWMKJ8eP5C6QCq9uuKSdBirEtx6X5mg7hri16KUQ1XfbsZT84N1bSw9CTyYbdhJnBDV/s643/life%20and%20earth.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="643" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkzVY8dQhsGsNz5vNYXijGPGEZ2oJG2-Yi_RrPd1a0XJCJlxfPwK7ssoqz_uOgFnimn5i1rtmSbBEj3s7xpo4iqxu3jG9RrSpKdHajM38OBTEo46sinzdkWBXPWDWMKJ8eP5C6QCq9uuKSdBirEtx6X5mg7hri16KUQ1XfbsZT84N1bSw9CTyYbdhJnBDV/w400-h260/life%20and%20earth.png" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Come to think of it, that's how I grew up. I may have gone old still a crazy dude, but I am proud to say that all my kids—although they use the internet and got cellphones—are still relatively old-school. Still, there are issues to deal other than a wireless abode, right? I'd rather worry about those... </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> When a child responds to, “Hey, did you check your Facebook today?” with, “I will for few minutes, I just need to finish this watercolor painting and I need to sleep early today for the volleyball game tomorrow,” then there is hope. No need to hire an “internet safety” tutor. Believe me, they know what “safe” is if their minds are working as natural reflex than brains that is so quick at electronic response. 🗽🏦🗽</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">IF we dig deeper and try to get off the Hitler horror cloud a bit and figure out how come the dude was able to convince minions to gather on his beck and call, we can see a parallel in current times. People are disgruntled and frustrated mainly by virtue of the One Percent's (eg Corporate World) machinations in complicity with governments. That is the kind of sociopolitical environment that a quintessential demagogue thrives. A demagogue is a political leader who seeks support by appealing to popular desires and prejudices rather than by using rational argument. That is why elections are about winning and the best (or worst?) demagogues win. Many times strategists play around a certain effective rah-rah slogan that goes with charismatic leaders—and that spell victory. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8CudUXQACsiSZsqEJDDVPdzGmWu8i1oq8tRYk5jyhaigjGMtYz6LIo1xCbodCQMs4shM7HI8lsl6jvYACRjRSlIZdcsWQfa8oJte0Vp7fKvguneawuw_P3_j0OYSUCsiOKvJruuCNxerkS8_WaS8nSG9UOGjkLyqygxureuv4FGlEQm7JZyBvToa-Q6m/s2500/geopolitics2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1187" data-original-width="2500" height="152" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8CudUXQACsiSZsqEJDDVPdzGmWu8i1oq8tRYk5jyhaigjGMtYz6LIo1xCbodCQMs4shM7HI8lsl6jvYACRjRSlIZdcsWQfa8oJte0Vp7fKvguneawuw_P3_j0OYSUCsiOKvJruuCNxerkS8_WaS8nSG9UOGjkLyqygxureuv4FGlEQm7JZyBvToa-Q6m/s320/geopolitics2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> In the US, I believe that the ruckus that ensued between camps of polar extremes (Trump against Sanders mainly) reflect a painful truth. Americans are pissed. As per a recent Washington Post/ABC News poll, voter discontent has reached a fever pitch: 72 percent say their elected officials can’t be trusted, and two-thirds believe the nation’s political system is dysfunctional. Some 21 percent of people want the eventual president-elect to employ drastic makeover of government structures and start over from scratch. Such utter disillusionment mutates into two polar extremes that howl, “We need complete redress of the system!” which makes Republican frontrunner Mr Trump's “Bring back America to Americans!” battlecry and Democrat Bernie Sanders' “Power to the people!” chant seem very alluring and palpable—at least to the heart that bleeds. 🗽🏦🗽</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">MANY compare Donald Trump with The Fuhrer. True, The Donald's politics could be a bit blurry, uncontrollably assymmetrical mostly. He claims to run on a platform of populism, nativism, protectionism and authoritarianism—with strong opposition to immigration, free trade and military interventionism. Meantime, many detractors find his fiery espousals as white supremacist/racist and misogynistic—sending shivers of a Hitlerian blueprint. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> But then, remember, the Adolf fella gained popular support in 1924 by attacking the Treaty of Versailles and promoting Pan-Germanism, anti-Semitism, and anti-communism with charismatic oratory. He denounced international capitalism and communism as being part of a Jewish conspiracy. Hitler aimed to eliminate Jews from Germany and establish a New Order to counter what he saw as the injustice of the post-World War I international order dominated by Britain and France. The kicker was his first six years in power resulted in rapid economic recovery from the Great Depression. Hence, he lured back ethnic Germans to return to nativeland. Germany back to the Germans. And then he got really fucked up. Rest of horrible history.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkgctFN_SsZnPlI2ao0E-qnOuS5kqGuZe-piHDsp6-UqKVF42Zfvs1xixyEwsdUgZ8O-WUnrzAVNNCcvhJ3fXDyDQtRk6Meoo773Mz4osc2PfQRs66BppFyKdwBrq7D3PbyA_Tn7lsyme1IZ90-kAfQbMMzEtCVqk3Yo3OnlHCJR67CGwS9askceTB_wf-/s772/US%20politicz.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="515" data-original-width="772" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkgctFN_SsZnPlI2ao0E-qnOuS5kqGuZe-piHDsp6-UqKVF42Zfvs1xixyEwsdUgZ8O-WUnrzAVNNCcvhJ3fXDyDQtRk6Meoo773Mz4osc2PfQRs66BppFyKdwBrq7D3PbyA_Tn7lsyme1IZ90-kAfQbMMzEtCVqk3Yo3OnlHCJR67CGwS9askceTB_wf-/s320/US%20politicz.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> Trump's glib albeit straight-through rhetoric infers that the ills of current America is ushered by an immigrant community in connivance with giant corporations. And when we talk about the American who lost a factory job to overseas outsourcing and then sees Chinese products flooding retail shelves then comes home to an injured soldier kin languishing in alcohol, what do we see? Then Trump promises, “I will give your life back.”</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> I refuse to sweepingly judge those who gravitate to Trump as idiots or morons. These are disenfranchised citizenry relegated to the background of a largely elitist, politically-correct and educated social enclave. Their woes and hopes accentuate “popular desires and prejudices rather than rational arguments.” Bottomline, the people want change. And Trump minces no words in saying, yes he can. Do I like him? No. I am just pointing some factors why he seems so popular. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> We have to take note as well—elections aren't really about who is the most deserving, or right, or just candidate—it is all about winning, no matter what. It's all about numbers. Hence, the most popular ones, with the most formidable One Percent backer, win. How do the people conter that? Advocate to non-believers instead of pushing them away. 🗽🏦🗽</span></p><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-8920889056634865172024-01-24T11:41:00.000-08:002024-01-24T11:41:57.118-08:00About Dogs and Cats and their Buddies. And some little jokes. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Previously posted on my Facebook Page. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">DOGS dream. Scientific research demonstrates comparable brain wave patterns in humans and dogs which validates this assumption. The conclusion is that dreams are part of the normal sleep cycle, and dogs do indeed have them! Arrow, in fact, talks in her dreams. A lot. Fizz takes note, analyzes them and texts those interesting findings to Arrow afterwards. 🐕🐕🦺😴</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjda1lHHNSD8leXo7OhGkeXn9upESLCkFY5mg5qNfcxR4xfvh-eHOuhpuZ3wx3eh-_CGkKV8Ni93W8pjTNb3ljhtU7pbbmWjkmHvs4ImtHZNxs4d9nBCTKa6JZv9uNCYn7ZvS2y44NbtN_3I4Q0g_qAFE9vQp6gucZosDSMD-Mk8vOtW0zN06mKv91yWXDb/s1617/USED.a%20new%20arrow%201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="941" data-original-width="1617" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjda1lHHNSD8leXo7OhGkeXn9upESLCkFY5mg5qNfcxR4xfvh-eHOuhpuZ3wx3eh-_CGkKV8Ni93W8pjTNb3ljhtU7pbbmWjkmHvs4ImtHZNxs4d9nBCTKa6JZv9uNCYn7ZvS2y44NbtN_3I4Q0g_qAFE9vQp6gucZosDSMD-Mk8vOtW0zN06mKv91yWXDb/w400-h233/USED.a%20new%20arrow%201.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST, a person who treats mental conditions by verbal communication and interaction; a </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=571492166&sxsrf=AM9HkKlA4UVNrYTVBYTeJJMnhq-rS7eslA:1696695115837&q=psychotherapist&si=ALGXSlbmguQulcNG_yDKi8AKFQVFgczyOQGRLyTfaWz9dlOF-lzQ71S7s14BNJgeirOrYNP1RW10OxsyDoWyv3RJVatbRqdIMKWplA_o2kQvM7Ey4wU-VKI%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">psychotherapist</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. In these cellphone/texting times, we should double/triple-check what we text before the auto(in)correct (in)corrects us. For example, when you respond to a text question, “Where are you going?” Elaborate and (re)check. Don’t just type “...to therapist.” It may be sent as “...to the rapist.” It happens. 📱🥹📲</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DO dogs like baths? Like most answers to grooming questions, it depends on the dog. Some dogs get anxiety when it's bath time, and others are just as happy to jump in a bath of water as they are in a pond or pool. But you should know. You don’t need to visit a dog behaviorist for that query and spend $150. Save the money for another fancy toy for your dog, okay? 🦮🛁🐕🦺</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">ONE thing common to all drama queen dogs (and hoomans) is that they want you to buy into their drama. So if you start yelling or panicking or getting all worked up when your dog is overreacting, then you will just be fanning the flames. So you two might as well make a Netflix series drama series. Why don’t you stay calm, no matter what. So the cat won’t ridicule you again on Facebook for all the silly drama that you and your dog do, 24/7. You dig? 🐕🥵🐩</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGclgvYpzrF1lIi4Z-nj7BuUrOg7n05dUUF_Gt_MYqcLa3RII2iMhNG2Ysmr1l8wamdxp-VqZU4PimuUFTqunPbSxlq-NyQR7E07SEdcO-WaTI2WCRDqMhFBYqNtBqUzptsnZ-Y6pkmYJCjQxgor7iYgvFTIaVu7-0CVolKLJWCllNQOV_BNCAi1YP4iG/s945/USED.astaypaw3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="945" data-original-width="854" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFGclgvYpzrF1lIi4Z-nj7BuUrOg7n05dUUF_Gt_MYqcLa3RII2iMhNG2Ysmr1l8wamdxp-VqZU4PimuUFTqunPbSxlq-NyQR7E07SEdcO-WaTI2WCRDqMhFBYqNtBqUzptsnZ-Y6pkmYJCjQxgor7iYgvFTIaVu7-0CVolKLJWCllNQOV_BNCAi1YP4iG/s320/USED.astaypaw3.jpg" width="289" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">WHY is a bank teller called “teller.” The term “teller” is from the Olde English, meaning “to count.” Okay, that makes sense. The person behind the counter “counts” the money that is being exchanged. While customers still call them “tellers,” most financial institutions have moved away from using the term. Fizz The Wiz told me bank tellers are also tellers of tales on Facebook when they are on a coffee break. I guess. 👩💻🧑💻🧑💼</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DOGS read more into our tone and body language than our actual words. They focus on us and observe our physical clues to determine what we want them to do or not do. They watch our facial expressions, posture, and body movements. They listen to the tone of our voice. Reason why, lately, there’s been a 75.9 percent spike in depression among dogs. But not with cats. 🐕🥴🐕🦺</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">CATS are typically very stoic animals, so if your cat suddenly seems to be in distress–howling, crying, tossing the TV remote around–it is a cause for concern. Ching and Fizz aren’t whiner cats though. When Ching wants a backrub, she just cooly walks to the mat, no word, and we take heed. When Fizz wants to play with her spring toy, she calls us out for 3 seconds. Then she quiets down. When both ask how to find a new bird video/show on Netflix or YouTube TV, they send me a text or IM. 😸😼🙀</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">INTERROGATION, the action of </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=570874343&sxsrf=AM9HkKkQ9xvmmkGqesR9ql3tKoJvp3vEvA:1696522029921&q=interrogating&si=ALGXSlaUkho42PFSQFYO6kO7MTs2xnt0bbEY1SWHhTOA8VdRLbJ2MC2eByOCAetjsn_H9o5Bohv2F3ZFEMMZsm_9GOlbEewyspn0wsc_QClJOmlm8JLe5YU%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">interrogating</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or the process of being </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=570874343&sxsrf=AM9HkKkQ9xvmmkGqesR9ql3tKoJvp3vEvA:1696522029921&q=interrogated&si=ALGXSlb91IXEiYApD91csfAularip2qz860DIAalJUW3--j1h9HNi4YHCm0lBlGWaOHIDXeCtmMeLpJ0bGeVqXNG1EZzUHrjlj9tKJYLjWAzWTPPw9QKONA%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">interrogated</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. In the very near future, police interrogation will be done by an AI that is programmed by a cat. Imagine that! 🗣👤🤖</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05vXMcNyyy9fPqap17uNULcXIEpyktww3RhKTBRYXCZdn7yQmVNy_dk8bNZihtBYSRWGAp9HEW_gacS5mNsdsEBlIpaJnE6DYQouV14MeXfSQSFak_NHbHW8YavA7kw0IoBnrNA1cOmLYNKvl54x-ll-u8x8GWBe7gaZ2YTU3TCwSXLhaczen9HalR6s7/s960/USED.1.1.babedawgs%204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="812" data-original-width="960" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05vXMcNyyy9fPqap17uNULcXIEpyktww3RhKTBRYXCZdn7yQmVNy_dk8bNZihtBYSRWGAp9HEW_gacS5mNsdsEBlIpaJnE6DYQouV14MeXfSQSFak_NHbHW8YavA7kw0IoBnrNA1cOmLYNKvl54x-ll-u8x8GWBe7gaZ2YTU3TCwSXLhaczen9HalR6s7/s320/USED.1.1.babedawgs%204.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DOGS read our body language and listen to our tone as we speak to them, which helps them decipher what we are telling them. This indicates that they also use both sides of their brain to understand human words. So yes, dogs are capable of knowing their name and nicknames. Cats though are a lot smarter. They know our names, nicknames, passport names, bitch names, TikTok names, 17 Facebook names, and passwords. 🗣🐕🐈</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">HIGH MAINTENANCE, of a person or relationship, or dog and cat, demanding a lot of attention and financial/luxury needs. Arrow: “I need 7 more minutes of sniff-sniff time every 30 minute interval on a day’s time. That’d be apart from morning bathroom and afternoon walk and evening bathroom. Ching: “My backrubs should be at 10:30 PM, to the dot. Not a minute late! And I want a larger TV screen for my bird video watch.” Fizz: “Don’t argue, that’s what our AI told us! Just do it!” 🐈👑🐕</span></span></p>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-11844797617424891572024-01-04T10:47:00.000-08:002024-01-04T10:47:21.152-08:00Compilation of short MORNING THOUGHTS on Facebook. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-size: large;">Reading news requires “more reading.” For days, most that I read are Left-wing media exalting the Midterms “victory” of the Democrats. Yet the numbers, today: Senate: Red 49, Blue 48. House: Red 217, Blue 205. Governor: Red 25, Blue 24. Tight race; GOP leads. Yet while there’s not much talk about the loss of popular Blue rep Stacey Abrams, shaming royale hit Republicans who lost. Whoever wins, my issues: War, inflation, mass shootings. End it, fix it! 🤨🗣👥</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZE1MOhlnLoL1rp0bOAx9djJnO0NG6XFdMC4THECKsinTaBDxGX50M06bZkdHLYNOFWn3-5GkI_78ZZ8SWVmjfq9v66KI5ZCUBzEqrrYNmpW-XQm9Al6MTxzj_26lUGzhwDUDY4ParP4MqrsraEbCaWjoYELckcEaT4ZbBfU3XRJJExzi0CT3CZz3iSAR/s1840/voters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1040" data-original-width="1840" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitZE1MOhlnLoL1rp0bOAx9djJnO0NG6XFdMC4THECKsinTaBDxGX50M06bZkdHLYNOFWn3-5GkI_78ZZ8SWVmjfq9v66KI5ZCUBzEqrrYNmpW-XQm9Al6MTxzj_26lUGzhwDUDY4ParP4MqrsraEbCaWjoYELckcEaT4ZbBfU3XRJJExzi0CT3CZz3iSAR/w400-h226/voters.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">A subtle kind of racism that pervades here, there, and everywhere: When other people, especially those from perceived “poor” countries, are categorically dismissed, treated, or ignored as dumb, clueless, or “backward.” You see, the Uber driver could be a former finance minister in Egypt; the gardener was a doctor in Laos; the subway busker was a physicist in Cuba; the Red Lobster kitchen help was an English teacher in India. Yet they opt to stay quiet and refuse to argue. 🤨🗣👥</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Simple Minds isn’t happy with the success of “Breakfast Club,” the 1985 film where the Scottish band’s “Don’t You (Forget About Me” was the theme song. Fact is, the John Hughes movie pumped up the song to #1. As of July 2022, the video with clips from the movie, had been viewed more than 240 million times. Whiners for more attention? Like John Lydon a.k.a. Johnny Rotten whining about “Pistol.” How many suddenly clicked Sex Pistols after viewing the Hulu series? 🥺🎼😭</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Never I’ve been so annoyed with following election results till this Midterms. How media drive, muzzle, and push you to their preferred “insight” of who actually won, regardless of the tally numbers—is irritating. Raw figure, 11/12/2022: Red leads Blue albeit very close. So call it that way. Very close. But no, coverage is opinionated-nasty, self-righteous, misleading. This election is a showcase of how America widened its divide in a bonanza of partisanship hate. 😏🗽😒</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7jhF1QOmYd__3YZegSyEW-t9xe8ptfgmQhKRdzOgUErHQ3bQud_OPxA1GnC-j6pyw2dqlg5gFk1wpWUx4bvRsiH1EP4oZBjLiysxF3PcHytGwsRBZkcLghUCKOoI5DCY6fCP_-bfq1Y0I2UKGs6WCMxHJm30_ZrWyMNgMzgRc1zn2alrc5XoKZL4OuaJ/s1600/politics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1600" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje7jhF1QOmYd__3YZegSyEW-t9xe8ptfgmQhKRdzOgUErHQ3bQud_OPxA1GnC-j6pyw2dqlg5gFk1wpWUx4bvRsiH1EP4oZBjLiysxF3PcHytGwsRBZkcLghUCKOoI5DCY6fCP_-bfq1Y0I2UKGs6WCMxHJm30_ZrWyMNgMzgRc1zn2alrc5XoKZL4OuaJ/s320/politics.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">The “antisemitic book, docu” that Kyrie Irving got in trouble with are now bestsellers on Amazon. Sales of most recent “banned” book “Maus” by Art Spiegelman soared 753 percent in 1 month, following the hoopla. You dig? Anyhow, pro/anti thoughts by people are fine with me. Life. What pisses me off is when giant corporations trumpet that they cut their endorser/s because they “stepped over the line.” Come on, Nike! You’ve been stepping over line for decades! 🤨🗣👥</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Basketball is the Philippines’ top sport pastime. In the 1930s, the country of my birth was #3 in world ranking in basketball (yes!) Till we deteriorated. The Philippines’ performance in the last FIBA was the worst that I’ve ever seen! Again, we are vying for a slot in the next FIBA and possibly, Olympics. What country watches the NBA the most? The Philippines! 63 percent! Hmmm. We watch basketball as a community. No politics talk in front of basketball. No way! ?⛹️🇵🇭</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Midterms. Republicans win the House. Senate, a tight race. Some politicians of either side, who are only “good” for online flash or internet “fame,” lost. Good. The GOP victory is not supermajority. Traditionally, that is fine for participatory democracy. But with the current schism of hate, not good. Weakens America and Washington loses clout, globally. Yet only half of the U.S. vote. Doesn’t matter. No need for a referendum on today’s economy. Clear as daytime. 🗽🇺🇸🗽</span></span></p>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-8588256330229797932023-12-28T10:54:00.000-08:002023-12-28T10:54:03.522-08:00About Dogs and Cats and their Buddies. And Other Little Jokes.<p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet; font-size: medium;">Previously posted on my Facebook Page. </span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">PRIMORDIAL, existing at or from the beginning of time; primeval. Soon or already, I am primordial. Are you primordial? Can you pronounce primordial? Pri-mor-dial. Pri-mor-de-yal? /prīˈmôrdēəl/ Okay. 🥸🧙♂️👴</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVHNz90hNSv7reqLeCqQ8s3LGOVqkx3MMYyU2oLsvg_GWzEAht4UsPgsa4dGK5pKMMMXrf9BRFDfCDTL7H2YaVIHgOQnfLXRFcA3bHg2HtB9lj7d57IF9iP1V70JaRD-S-NkcvWJwiqnjRpqFVVgExVAoc8iPEGewjRAj4fb_5LuXgtFl_EGms0LMEfFza/s1945/USED.the%20gang.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1322" data-original-width="1945" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVHNz90hNSv7reqLeCqQ8s3LGOVqkx3MMYyU2oLsvg_GWzEAht4UsPgsa4dGK5pKMMMXrf9BRFDfCDTL7H2YaVIHgOQnfLXRFcA3bHg2HtB9lj7d57IF9iP1V70JaRD-S-NkcvWJwiqnjRpqFVVgExVAoc8iPEGewjRAj4fb_5LuXgtFl_EGms0LMEfFza/w400-h272/USED.the%20gang.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">CATS love to snuggle in one tiny space because they have an instinctual need for protection and to stay warm. They also like to avoid environmental stress and conflict so they look for a tight space to hide. Lastly it may remind them of being a kitten snug against their mother in a confined space. Also, since they are also very smart in economics, they want to tell us to take it easy on purchasing more cat stuff on Temu. Save money for their health care. One cat bed is enough. 🦊🧺🐺</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">CATS can read body language of other cats and human companions. They can read/interpret human vocal intonations. But most cats cannot read words on a laptop or cellphone. But they can read cursive and words in a book. Fizz though can read anything on the internet, including emojis and stickers. 🐱📰🐱</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">PROPRIETORSHIP, the state or right of </span><a href="https://www.google.com/search?sca_esv=570352775&sxsrf=AM9HkKkr3M94N67ve49IZDbQ4R87U8JzTg:1696347578998&q=owning&si=ALGXSlbD4fKmSL7CRU364kGH2u8kvMJXrlXCJuhyFSujYqSYMsEJbKiS-h6MbTWVMqonBHo8carnzHDoMgPPVkNMD5Y71wzLqA%3D%3D&expnd=1" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">owning</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> a business or holding property. In case you have already sold your soul to the devil and the devil now owns copyright of your soul, there’s nothing you can do about it. But you may still vote next year. 😈🤠👿</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nfe1zWKx4ioi16faHYKF0n1DLydByGaaSx-WaemdXamQHEe5jLIJlQKGHUJT9HedJEMNl0ObftvhUNeSIYevxox1qGW-QpV2walnhjK5MuHPzVNmWEMLOGesOiukaleLkNIPC4yKzs57C3tOiXlF7sDJDlmLPJQwnO6oJ1tsMeQQ0tmgnoRblBI3agNo/s1734/USED.aqueen2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1734" data-original-width="1296" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3nfe1zWKx4ioi16faHYKF0n1DLydByGaaSx-WaemdXamQHEe5jLIJlQKGHUJT9HedJEMNl0ObftvhUNeSIYevxox1qGW-QpV2walnhjK5MuHPzVNmWEMLOGesOiukaleLkNIPC4yKzs57C3tOiXlF7sDJDlmLPJQwnO6oJ1tsMeQQ0tmgnoRblBI3agNo/s320/USED.aqueen2.jpg" width="239" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">THERE are plenty of laws in effect to protect dogs and cats, or animals per se, from abuse and neglect. Most states have passed laws that make severe animal cruelty cases a felony. However, each state defines animal abuse differently. Most of these laws were actually introduced by hoomans who were cats in their past life. 🐕⚖️🐈</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">CATS have different sleep-wake cycles than other animals and are often busy at night. This is because cats are crepuscular, which means they hunt and are active in the evening or early morning. Get that? Crepuscular, crepuscular, crepuscular. Kickass word! Crepuscular. 🐱😴🦊</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">REAL MAN is a dude who has been through different experiences in life and does not let those experiences limit or define him. He has lessons from the past only to humble him rather than dwell on insecurities or in fear of those experiences. He looks at life not wanting to define it, judge it or to put it in a box. Pretty much like a cat. 🦹🤴🦹♂️</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">FETCHING the newspaper is a task your dog is likely to enjoy. But lately dogs have been refusing to fetch the paper and instead hands hoomans a piece of paper with links to the day’s news. Dogs learned this trick from, who else, cats. 🐈🗞🐕</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">DOGS are born to be in the spotlight and really love being photographed. Other pups may be less willing to hold still and look at the camera though. Paying attention to your dog's body language will help you learn the difference: When it is okay to snap a picture and when they would rather be left alone. Usually, when there’s a cat in the house, the dog would ask the cat first if it is okay for another photo-op. The cat is their manager or agent. 🐕📸🐩</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6vX21fu-o3CLCOXf53Ex8DpzBJLqLVVPDwUj8dQgyx05BHrF-PLI8qdieyp2wKFh9EIJ43mkuL_L0JeiWmDg6taiIbfnZCAXnYObhbFY-0unsN8aa6VsXbPYFa5cSp-_HovJvXFt7NJfwPEW7DiO-obskktEUZT1aWJSvjxEMTrlSH4_EKApL2cYhuhl/s1944/USED.fizz%20cover%20girl2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="1872" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL6vX21fu-o3CLCOXf53Ex8DpzBJLqLVVPDwUj8dQgyx05BHrF-PLI8qdieyp2wKFh9EIJ43mkuL_L0JeiWmDg6taiIbfnZCAXnYObhbFY-0unsN8aa6VsXbPYFa5cSp-_HovJvXFt7NJfwPEW7DiO-obskktEUZT1aWJSvjxEMTrlSH4_EKApL2cYhuhl/s320/USED.fizz%20cover%20girl2.jpg" width="308" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">THE major characteristic of vampires is not that they eat humans, but that they FEED on human blood. Vampires are evil mythological beings who roam at night, searching for people whose blood they feed upon. So that popular thinking that vampires eat humans is fake news. Although vampires trade humans that they kill and drain blood from with zombies who, of course, dine on humans–in exchange for intel where to find humans with healthy blood situation. 🧛♂️🧛♀️🧟♀️</span></span></p><p><br /></p>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-28200791142452582742011-12-24T04:15:00.000-08:002012-01-13T05:20:03.538-08:00Seven ways to say I love you without saying it…<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQf3XeZ6SrMmh-ojecO0H82NaB0CiMvjxu6UWpERodevBhAG8x70-jW6XOxS0DrzFHRxS-RVhoBYMYN8zGhdxCafM1K7pzI_UM6jdiWlx7x2rwD7VauEQe3N2Xqzpa66Odin7X8lZSfyF/s1600/LOVERS-love-8964894-1024-768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigQf3XeZ6SrMmh-ojecO0H82NaB0CiMvjxu6UWpERodevBhAG8x70-jW6XOxS0DrzFHRxS-RVhoBYMYN8zGhdxCafM1K7pzI_UM6jdiWlx7x2rwD7VauEQe3N2Xqzpa66Odin7X8lZSfyF/s320/LOVERS-love-8964894-1024-768.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[1] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">KISS.</span></strong> A kiss is a most intimate gesture of human warmth towards the other that even nature does it on an ethereal and transcendent way: A feline streak of sun light that gently crawls its lips upon a morning glade. Try to kiss that way… Many times it’s the most endearing, lasting sexual bliss there is—better than the hottest sex—because a kiss lasts, conveys, connects longer than a 3-minute orgasm. So kiss that way—kiss like it’s a need than obligation, pleasure than ritual. But be sure to brush your teeth and gurgle first… No human being deserves to kiss another human being with a KFC morsel in between their front teeth.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[2] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">DOMESTICATE</span></strong> your love and affection. Cook for her—cooking is a profound personal expression of connectedness and compassion. You are feeding the body as well as the spirit—besides the quiet fact that eating dinner together means you are really together. Or wash her clothes, if need be—iron them, as well. Don’t be embarrassed to include her undies, too—that is, if she allows it. Just be sure that you know how to segregate this and that fabric or clothes, and use the right detergent (is she into non-toxic stuff, respect it!) and be extra certain that you are pretty knowledgeable how to operate the washer-dryer. Don't mess up the machine... More importantly, you don’t want to ruin her Gucci, Prada, and Valentino! THAT is a cardinal sin!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[3] <span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>SURPRISE</strong> </span>her with little, silly, corny gifts: a garden-plucked magnolia with a line from a Lisa Gilbert book, ham sandwich or hummus salad (if she is a vegetarian, respect it!) placed on her car’s companion seat as she goes to work, a red red rose on her pillow (cut off the thorns and briers, dude!)—sometimes, a flea market-scored flower vase or antique nightstand or scarf from a consignment store works good or a Pekingese cat at an animal rescue center. Elicit that smile and hug, these sweet little somethings matter. But don’t surprise her with a baby boa constrictor pet atop the TV set as she goes home: that is pretty much a shock—bigtime shock, get it? (Well, not unless your GF is Lady Gaga… that’d be fine, I guess.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[4] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">CLEAN</span></strong> her car or fix her bed. These are some of those tiny tasks or seemingly nonsensical chores that don’t get notice as we feed our insatiable thirst for obligatory toil so we could sustain our hold at life’s physical comforts. We jump out of bed to keep up with the rush and adrenalin of daily grind; we hop in and out of the car and nonchalantly trash the day’s litter all over the car floor and back seat as we drive and text—knowing we could attend to these little things later, and so before we know it, the car has been stuffed with Bojangles chicken bones and Mickey Dees boxes, and the bed looked like a WWF arena. It’d be cool that when she comes home to rest, the bed looks like a Holiday Inn suite that smells like lovin’, and when she drives back to work, her car looks like the inside of a limo to Shangri-la.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[5] Those three words could be articulated better via a <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">POEM,</span></strong> song, artwork—so you don’t need to be such a trying-hard jerk who says I love you in between quick glances at your Blackberry for NFL updates. Everybody texts as they interact so how do you know your man (or woman) is paying attention at all? This is not a 100 percent guarantee of unmitigated attention or focus but at least you could convince her that you spent all night writing her a sonnet, you dig? But don’t you ever commit the stupid mistake of copy-pasting a Neruda or Shakespeare love poem at poemhunter.com and say it's yours– you must know that that everything can be googled anytime. One click and you’re dead!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[6] Criticize her mom’s Dolly Parton hair-do, junk her bestfriend’s love for Burger King dollar meals, lambast her hair stylist’s style—but don’t, DON’T, you ever diss her <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">PET</span></strong> (may it be a babedawg, koolcat, alligator, or pterodactyl). That is a super-huge no-no. Instead, always appreciate the darn animal, okay? If she is a PETA member or anti-animal cruelty advocate, respect it! Bring the pet a treat—and better make it a “healthy” chow (remember, if she's into ethical stuff, respect it!). Sometimes, well—believe it or not, you must pet the babedawg/koolcat first before you go to lady. She will love you double for your sensitivity and sublimity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[7] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">BE PRESENT.</span></strong> Value moments. In spite of or no matter how busy your respective social and work lives are, always have open-ended moments with her. There will always be workloads and neglected tasks to do or attend to—but there will only one love to nurture… Always think that she’s waiting and you are coming, and vice versa. Talk but make sure you have other subjects to talk about apart from an Occupy issue, GOP debate, or a Kardashian butt; and listen, listen to her no matter how loud and annoying her whinings and mopings are. Words that come out of human mouths are like music and poetry when both listen and talk. The heart listens good…</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">… and if all these don’t work, well—what the hell, say <strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;">I LOVE YOU!</span></strong></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-42995615570164727442011-12-04T19:45:00.000-08:002011-12-05T11:53:08.299-08:00TEN Reasons Why I Unfriend…<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Ye75me2yn6UQo_MTjvjybsy7j5QsgwfXhO0WqBC8CnxmCoj3QIPTm0z8PVzJg5lXW-iAoL-Jv_Fu_NPW5i419NlvZuQD2X875tNemAMZISuqM9jq7oT_1bAtqJhpAxVpiETM4L_jGqhn/s1600/met.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" dda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Ye75me2yn6UQo_MTjvjybsy7j5QsgwfXhO0WqBC8CnxmCoj3QIPTm0z8PVzJg5lXW-iAoL-Jv_Fu_NPW5i419NlvZuQD2X875tNemAMZISuqM9jq7oT_1bAtqJhpAxVpiETM4L_jGqhn/s1600/met.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><strong><span style="color: #b45f06;">MY</span></strong> Facebook is like my living room that is open to public—in all continents, seven seas, and Milky Way. A “living room”—which means, this place isn’t my bathroom or bedroom, so there! Although I am so fond of sharing what I just ate or cooked, or where I spent my last weekend (at least, I offer hints), or what sort of housework I just accomplished (yes, I do stuff apart from dishwashing and laundry), or what's up with my kids—it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s all “reality FB” around here. There’s still a whole lot of details and infos about my little life and shenanigans that I don’t feel a tad comfortable to bare in here. You can still call me painfully reclusive and I will not argue it… And yes, although I have close to 4500 “friends,” I still unfriend people (if they’re actually “people” and not a few of Cyd’s clandestine MIBs).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[1] Bloated, overdrawn discussion that evolves into nasty <strong><span style="color: #990000;">ARGUMENTS</span></strong>. Although my intensely opinionated girth always gets caught in a quicksand of passionate debates and verbal engagements, it doesn’t mean I enjoy them. I don’t… I am done with those prolonged jousts about politics of the day and blahblah—that I so love to sink my tiny little brain into when I was younger. These days, I’d rather write my thoughts, one way, no arguments whatsoever—than negotiate a curb and preach my madness to the next soul. You see, there are people who simply are experts in acerbic provocations—they will argue why babedawgs bark 7 times a day, why winter is cold, why soda isn’t called pop, and why the hell they are alone and lonely yet their koolcat has a Friday night date… I like discussion with like-minded friends, albeit virtual—but once it gets a bit of a headbutting gig, I’d rather digress and unfriend. If you don’t like my stuff, why sit on my couch, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[2] Blurbs and quips that tend to be too <strong><span style="color: #990000;">PERSONAL</span></strong>… Again, as follow up to Item #1, I do enjoy sharing my virtual mung beans soup and if I agree with what Anderson Cooper just said or why am I the only human being watching Jerry Springer—but I don’t think I’d reveal the color of my underwear or who the beautiful lady that I last dated or why is it I never adjusted my status to Single, Married, In An Relationship, Imprisoned, or Simply Bored. So I am not at all amused with prying screwdrivers who dig in too much like the New Inquisition, and pick up a fight via my Wall… you know what I’m sayin’? Of course, you know what I am saying…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[3] <strong><span style="color: #990000;">PORNOGRAPHIC</span></strong> minds. I am not saying that I don’t surf a porno site once in a while, because I do. Yes, indeed—I do, but not the perverse type though (if watching ordinary-looking couples with imperfect bodies on intimate moments doesn’t qualify as “perverse,” then I am fine, right?) But I don’t like pornos sent via emails or FBs—apart from the fact that almost all of these nuisances are spam viruses. I mean, I don’t even welcome 4-letter f-words thrown like vodka vomit in here…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[4] As I just said on Item #1, I like discussion of daily matters, stuff and things—from Black Friday shopping madness to China’s domination of the world to a Kardashian frivolity to the Rolling Stones’ next tour… Kafka, Beavis and Butthead, Thai cuisine, sex in Brazil, global warming in Antarctica, Ayn Rand, Calvin and Hobbes. Stuff, you know. What I don’t favor are those who <strong><span style="color: #990000;">COMPLAIN</span></strong> a humongous lot about anything. They go online yet they complain about the internet, they drive a car yet they whine about traffic, they criticize smokers and meat-eaters yet they guzzle up alcohol like it’s water to a fish, they say they are lonely but they mope about their disgusting neighbors or moms and dad who call on Saturday afternoon, they want to help feed all inhabitants of Sub-Saharan Africa but they rant and rave about antibiotics and all that paranoid toxicity in food, etcetera etcetera. You know, people who always carry a pin to burst your bubble, or always come in handy with a negative retort to your positive wavelength… These are the kind of raincloud earthlings who doesn’t notice a flower standing aloft a phalanx of dead brush or a streak of sun coming through a weeping windowpane. They are so freakin’ morose!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[5] I don’t get much of these quizzes and game <strong><span style="color: #990000;">INVITES</span></strong> anymore, so it’s cool. Maybe I am one of those FB rats (or squirrels) who spend a fantastic amount of time on Facebook but don’t do any of the Yoville or Farmville stuff. I am too short-attention span dude to keep glued to an online game for three minutes… Also, I hate <strong><span style="color: #990000;">TAGGERS</span></strong> who don’t ask permission to tag. It’s pretty much a wild trespass or a random tag on your car or something. That is so unacceptable, man!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[6] Elongated exchange of <strong><span style="color: #990000;">RELIGIOUS</span></strong> sermons on the mount or <strong><span style="color: #990000;">IDEOLOGICAL</span></strong> speeches. I am pretty much aware of friends—real, “offline” friends—who use Facebook as an advocacy or propaganda tool. And I agree it is effective—after all, many claim that FB helped launch successful revolutions in the Middle East, as well as to jumpstart the Occupy movement. But my FB is not like that. It’s simply a frenzied cornucopia of this and that, it’s thrift store, a downtown flea market, it’s like a café for one and all. It’s cheap, it’s profound, it’s surreal, it’s intellectual, it’s corny, it’s funny, it’s scornful, it’s romantic, it’s angry, it’s sarcastic, it’s me. But I don’t like a long stream of super-political and “spiritual hallelujahs,” although a bit of these is fine…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[7] Well-meaning but overzealous people who invite you to a <strong><span style="color: #990000;">BILLION EVENTS,</span></strong> although you never show up at all. And I am not really good at attending events, parties, meetings, gatherings anyways. I’ve always preferred the quiet comfort of my room… I’ve always been this kind of “unsocial” dude who is actually kind of social, by virtue of so many community events and organizational projects/program that I have organized in my life. So to save the ink or whatever, better not include me in your 1 million people to invite list… although I will find it more thoughtful and sweet if you send me a one-liner, individual/exclusive note (I may show up).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[8] Hostile <strong><span style="color: #990000;">EX’ES.</span></strong> I have a number of former girlfriends in my Friends List—maybe they read me, maybe they don’t. But we are mutually quiet (with each other). I unfriended maybe two or three ex’es but the one ex that really pissed me off was the one who was so gracious in being my “friend” again, yet she made it a point to beat me up, clash with me like sneaky Scud missile, or wickedly criticize whatever I post. It’s the kind of person who comes to your house with a smile and then starts criticizing unwashed dishes on my sink, dust on windowsill, the Dollar Tree painting on the bathroom wall, the sort of magazines on my desk, and Cyd’s unmade litter box… yet still has the gall to say, “I only have compassion for you.” Ex’es who praised you to the heights of Mt Kilimanjaro and called you The Greatest when you were still dating, and then totally made a huge U-turn when you broke up—so any opportunity that’s open to them to lash out at you, they’d take it. UNf------gFRIEND them, pronto!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[9] People that you are certain you’d <strong><span style="color: #990000;">NEVER MEET</span></strong> in person or in real life. If these people are unnecessary in your life—online or offline—why befriend them, in the first place? There are a number of reasons why I create friends or reconnect with friends or maintain friends in my life: they could be business collaborations, project connects, really cool people with a diversity of interesting takes and insights about life and living, and just plain human beings who could be such gifts in real life. I don’t want to maintain or sustain an online communication with someone that I am sure I’d never meet in the real world at all—I don’t care if the person lives in Bosnia-Herzegovina or Tonga, I want to be sure that I am talking with a real person that I may share a coffee or beer somewhere in the future.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[10] People that are soooooooo <strong><span style="color: #990000;">IN LOVE</span></strong> with life and the world, that it freakin’ screams like a loud denial. These are the kind of people who doesn’t want to hear anything about people getting hungry, being killed, thrown out of houses etc. They believe that the world is one race, everybody has a full stomach, love is all that they see when they dance with fireflies in the quiet confines of their fancy idylls by the woods… Most often than not, these are the kind of immaculate urchins who’d rather cover their faces with masks of white as they pass by a phalanx of starving souls by an uneasy street. They believe that they will go straight to heaven because they are made to be pure and peaceful, loving and lovely. <strong><span style="color: #990000; font-size: large;">UNFRIEND</span></strong> them, is all.</span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-44566128118159566242011-10-31T01:10:00.000-07:002011-11-10T11:31:27.092-08:00Seven Cool, Almost Funk-Free Alternatives to Banking Institutions…<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtk7HQZ1-IrWQ-gv8Fgb3lJblYghtVR8HEc5AkdGQO-TaOzTaUPjd1aRSO2T0rLt_5y5C_r3h7es8Y1Gohe6JpKS_RvFlMfEQI8aCvyoK7QxN19ekrhAGJuApE7JvFHw3QuRPqy7wtyjHg/s1600/loan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ida="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtk7HQZ1-IrWQ-gv8Fgb3lJblYghtVR8HEc5AkdGQO-TaOzTaUPjd1aRSO2T0rLt_5y5C_r3h7es8Y1Gohe6JpKS_RvFlMfEQI8aCvyoK7QxN19ekrhAGJuApE7JvFHw3QuRPqy7wtyjHg/s1600/loan.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[1] Try the Filipino group money lending concept called <strong><span style="color: #990000;">PALUWAGAN,</span></strong> a sort of a community-based or neighborhood mutual fund or small informal cooperative. I found this concept to be very effective, useful, and fun when I was in grade school. “Paluwagan” is a Filipino word—rooted from “magpaluwal” or simple money lending, and “nakaluluwag” which is synonymous to giving. This system has been so popular in the Philippines especially in the rural region. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">The “paluwagan” fund doesn’t go directly to a broker. The concept is to pool the participants’ money—by means of daily, weekly, or even monthly collections to be collected by a leader. The participants will cast lots to determine who will receive the total pooled money. There are other ways on how “paluwagan” system works. It’s up to the participants on how they should plan on what kind of rotation they will implement. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> Bottomline, in case you’d like to apply for a loan, you don’t have to beg a Wells Fargo or Bank of America and offer your soul as collateral—you can easily borrow the fund in the “paluwagan.” This, however, entails a lot of trust—hence, a fluid and solid community relations is imperative. You don’t just sign up a participant via a Tweet or Facebook email or an application from Klingon Planet… You need to first hang out and forge friendships, face to face, with people to be able to make this work.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[2] <strong><span style="color: #990000;">BARTER </span></strong>or trade. Ever wonder if there’s no money or what they call “legal tender” passing through hands after hands? When people just offer: “Hey, want me to repaint your awning in exchange for a sack of potato?” or “I will give you a ride to and from Westville Pub but can you look after my pet pterodactyl and boa constrictor tomorrow?” Or even simple transactions like, “I’ll give you foot massage, will you rub my back?” But, uhh… I think that’ll only work with a girlfriend or wife, right? But you get the drift… At least, you don’t have to go to a Citigroup bank and trade: “Mr Bank Manager, could you loan me some money to buy a new car so I can go to work—in exchange for my soul and my babedawg’s paw and my koolcat’s hair?”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[3] Explore the feasibility of microfinance in your community. What immediately comes to mind is <strong><span style="color: #990000;">GRAMEEN BANK</span></strong>—a community development bank in Bangladesh that makes small loans (known as microcredit or "grameencredit") to the impoverished without requiring collateral. The word “Grameen” is derived from the word “gram” which means "rural" or "village" in the Bengali language.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> The system of this bank is based on the idea that the poor have skills that are under-utilized. A group-based credit approach is applied which utilizes the peer-pressure within the group to ensure the borrowers follow through and use caution in conducting their financial affairs with strict discipline, ensuring repayment eventually and allowing the borrowers to develop good credit standing. The bank also accepts deposits, provides other services, and runs several development-oriented businesses including fabric, telephone and energy companies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> The Western world recognizes this banking system yet it doesn’t endorse it, for obvious reason. But Grameen Bank can be duplicated in the US, especially in small towns—where small, independent entrepreneurs could bond together to build a prototype.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[4] <strong><span style="color: #990000;">INVEST</span></strong> in your friends’ independent business. Help him and then he helps you—everybody happy, have a backyard barbecue! I mean, why entrust your money to so-called professionals or experts, ie Edward Jones or Charles Schwab—those names sound like New Wave singers high on Epoxy, anyways… Try someone that you actually know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[5] <strong><span style="color: #990000;">COOPERATIVES.</span></strong> A cooperative is an autonomous association of persons united voluntarily to meet their common economic, social, and cultural needs and aspirations through jointly owned and democratically controlled enterprise. A cooperative may also be defined as a business owned and controlled equally by the people who use its services or by the people who work there. I turned to Wikipedia to defined cooperatives—but you get idea, right? But then, with so many reasons for people to sever ties or fight (“Hey, I didn’t know that you’ve been using aluminum foil?!” / “Damn, you just chugged in a corporate Bud, I thought you’re an organic PBR dude?!?”)—how could this work? It will… just try forming one. If it doesn’t, I don’t know anymore…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[6] <strong><span style="color: #990000;">SURRENDER</span></strong> your money to your wife or girlfriend. I mean, I am sure this is not going to fly in this culture—but maybe some may agree. Back home, men are primarily tasked to provide livelihood through steady employment or business ventures to the family; women or housewives mostly control financial decisions—from small household/open market purchases to the children’s educational exigencies. In case hubby couldn’t earn enough or barely enough money to cover bills—sorry, dude! “No prime ribs tonight, sorry honey—we need to pay Netflix first!” / “What about my weed, sweety?” / “Www-what???? With this money and you still got the nerve to ask for weed money???” BLAM! “Now, you are sleeping in the babedawg house!” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> In fact, there is an existing labor law that specifically applied to overseas workers (mostly husbands who work in the Middle East). Their salary directly goes to a national bank (ah!) that only honors withdrawals transacted by the legal or common-law wife, none other. The hubby couldn’t even withdraw a cent from his pay… So it’s common practice that whenever men desire to, say, hang out with the boys on a weekend—he first has to try to apply for a little loan from wifey… Dig?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[7] Use <strong><span style="color: #990000;">CASH</span></strong> as much as possible, if you can help it—don’t use credit. Simple. Self-explanatory. Don’t spend money that you haven’t earned yet—especially when you don’t even have a job. But how the hell you got the credit card, anyway? Beats me…</span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-48945081939141278712011-08-07T22:39:00.000-07:002016-05-24T12:52:25.485-07:00MOST LIKELY you are in love…<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCLAoCAHRvPFggSwDPnbW80bnUU6wr3F_BUN8NMxywjRGMzYJaInfHLDy4ah1iYP6MgFX-IhyphenhyphenNuXUdXjPFaG8KNcfnggQYYMDgBfdJ07Xvi4VCpPoLS8bDXY-JLVcQ8xDvUS0dfVKcisSb/s1600/rainlove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCLAoCAHRvPFggSwDPnbW80bnUU6wr3F_BUN8NMxywjRGMzYJaInfHLDy4ah1iYP6MgFX-IhyphenhyphenNuXUdXjPFaG8KNcfnggQYYMDgBfdJ07Xvi4VCpPoLS8bDXY-JLVcQ8xDvUS0dfVKcisSb/s1600/rainlove.jpg" t="" true="" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[1] When you tend to be eerily forgetful and <strong><span style="color: red;">AWFULLY ABSENT-MINDED.</span></strong> Before you get enraptured by her lost-girl Zooey Dechanel stare or sneaky George Clooney wink, you never once missed an episode of “America’s Got Talent,” NY Times’ Sunday crossword, return an important errand call from your boss, or mow the front lawn. The first level of the love/infatuation madness revolves around starry-eyed indolence, prolonged moments by a rain-soaked windowpane, non-stop adherence to 70s sentimental radio, and paranoid gazes at your cellphone or inbox for a message or two. Not good… so before you get fired for missed deadlines and run over a pile up of unattended dirty dishes on the sink, deal with it right here right now: If you feel you are in love, go tell her/him—and demand an instant response. If you don’t get a yes answer, then—invoke Cher in “Moonstruck” (to Nicolas Cage): “SNAP OUT OF IT!”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[2] When you begin <strong><span style="color: red;">SAYING YES</span></strong> to a lot of stuff and things that you rejected, dismissed, or didn’t agree with before. It’s because, at this moment, you see the world as a positive wheel of possibilities, not probabilities; certainties, not doubts; promises, not fears. It’s because you’d like to exert more tolerance and instill more patience at knowing and understanding issues and matters that you didn’t give a chance to flourish or bloom when you first tried them. Everything seems a doorway to anything good and pleasurable… Love doesn’t question, it just keeps on understanding. It could be a bit silly to some, but then—if love isn’t a silly, beautiful gift of humanity, then we will all be single people watching waves come and go by a lonesome shore. And the closest touch of intimacy that we can grasp is an overnight of hot, fleeting sex.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[3] When you start wearing dresses and clothes with loud colors and gaudy designs. The planet becomes a psychedelic discotheque—and <strong><span style="color: red;">LIFE WHIRLS AND TWIRLS</span></strong> like a hula hoop. It has become hip, cool and fashionable to be wearing a tangerine and purple Big Bird gown and straw hat adorned with summertime flowers—although it’s winter or whatever unseasonal instance this could be. Who cares what you’re up to these days, no more greys and blacks and whites. You may even dress your pug or poodle with a Lady Gaga chemise whatever, as long as you don’t dye her fur orange…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[4] When suddenly you are freakin’ <strong><span style="color: red;">CORNY AS HELL. </span></strong>You become surprisingly cheesy, and have chucked your acerbic, holier-than-thou political rants in favor of elementary Adam Sandler gags. Suddenly, who cares about Obama’s take on debt relief and GOPs’ tact on health care; all you talk about are some recycled SNL sitcom gawks and silly high school jokes. You are now spending more time checkin’ out Hallmark card shelves at Target and have been watching The Food Network more than ever, and has been squeezing your beer budget to save some on flowers and chocolates… Well, I am telling you: IT IS FREAKIN’ CORNY! But love has this magical power to melt hearts like marshmallows, feel young like a squeaking piglet, and frivolous as in a 3-year old kid throwing snowballs at your neighbors VW… But that childish reverie shouldn’t last longer than a few weeks, otherwise—you need to see a shrink.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[5] When you <strong><span style="color: red;">FEEL LIKE DANCING</span></strong> whenever you cook, gardening, doing the laundry. You are just happy and lively and on constant celebratory mood. It’s like—although all you get on primetime TV are those whiny housewives, it’s like they’re all Mother Teresas and Marge Simpsons. Your ramen noodles taste like salmon on white cheese, gardening is like ice skating, and laundry work is like chill-out time on a hammock by a Pacific isle beach-front. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[6] When y</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; white-space: pre-wrap;">ou desire more <b><span style="color: red;">KISSING AND HOLDING</span></b> than actual intercourse. Love is derived from mutual intimacy—and kissing and holding make it more real and achievable. So if you happen to postpone or cancel meeting up and spending time together just because it’s her monthly period, that means—you are not in love at all. There are a lot of beautiful things to do together that articulate what you two mutually feel—in the absence of nakedness.</span>Moreover, most of these blessings of romantic relationships are muddled or ruined by sexual politics that pervade in the current generation… If a relationship suddenly becomes a witch-hunt for faults (because he is “such a man, and she acts like a woman”), and interactions turn into a boot camp for gender wars, then kissing is trivial and nonsense. Better quit altogether.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[7] When your <strong><span style="color: red;">INSECURITY AND SENTIMENTALISM</span></strong> torture you like razor blade on melting butter. This is one of the baddest parts of being madly in love—the fear of losing her/him, because you might not come up to her/his standard or she/he might be a player. You are unreasonably, unbelievable insecure if you start worrying that maybe she found a better dude on the hallway—after she excused herself to go to a bathroom while dining at a downtown bar-restaurant… just because she spent time in there for more than 2 minutes and 17 seconds. Or when a random woman greets him with, “How are you doing, Bret Michaels?” on Facebook Wall, you start nagging him that maybe he’s secretly sleeping with Heather Locklear or Khloe Kardashian? Or maybe you are scared that she’ll discover that you are a huge fan of Barry Manilow, or he will find out sooner or later that your high school crush was Rick Astley? Come on, deal with it! Love is love and it doesn’t measure whatever or quantify whichever…</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[8] When you again wants to watch “Sleepless in Seattle” and “Love Story” in one night. Love makes humans feel <strong><span style="color: red;">DREAMY</span></strong>… fantasizing of those little, sweet moments smooching on a gondola in Venice, hugging tightly by Bellagio’s dancing fountain in Las Vegas, or shrieking I-love-you’s as you bungee jump down Grand Canyon—to profess your neverending je t’aime. It’s okay to dream and fantasize, you know—but keep your feet planted on reality ground. Maybe you two can only afford an afternoon walk by a Blue Ridge Mountains trail, hand in hand, sharing a PBR on a brown bag… or a quiet hummus/kale broth dinner at Rosetta’s at 2 in the morning. That’s okay, really. It’s perfectly normal to engage in a crazy dream segment or two once in a while—in some Shangri-la situation—because that also proves that you are in love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[9] When you start getting <strong><span style="color: red;">SCARED OF BEING ALONE</span></strong> again. Yes, her/his presence is the most important ever in life and living… It has become so cold in bed without that other body warming yours up, dinner has become a freezing prison cell chow, shopping isn’t so exciting anymore without him pushing the cart or her taking too much time on the cosmetics section, and driving alone feels like a solitary journey in a space capsule in milky way. You miss his noisy ravings as he pores over Yahoo news, her whiny chats with her mom on the phone, his muddy loafers on the front door, her boring meditation CDs in the bathroom boombox, his old toothbrush in the sink, her hair on the pillow… Without him/her, loneliness has become so unbearable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">[10] When the words <strong><span style="color: red;">“I LOVE YOU”</span></strong> is said at least four times a day (before you part ways for work in the morning, amidst job breaks via cellphone calls or email message, as you kiss each other when both gets home, and a goodnight kiss)—is enough to assure you that you are together. This time, trust and believe—too much digging on the why’s and wherefore’s of love and “I love you” in terms of justifying/rationalizing words—is not good. Just take it easy—live good, love good, and eat good food—together.</span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-81814979599344554832011-05-26T23:38:00.000-07:002012-02-12T11:46:41.733-08:00FIVE SUGGESTIONS to those who just broke up, separated, or divorced…<div class="separator" style="border: currentColor; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZON_QgwFCZxOw7iT1qqjVVmezkDGk9pBLAbqRYMmnjJjz4XCPQaSlmCE5gkwhMSvanPzP8NyyPwvBoKcngP-vw3zO0hnSBmx6BrMZZxGkMzRra5OLWjYcFxUY3H3KITD3FWfK3QD1-sa3/s1600/broken+rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZON_QgwFCZxOw7iT1qqjVVmezkDGk9pBLAbqRYMmnjJjz4XCPQaSlmCE5gkwhMSvanPzP8NyyPwvBoKcngP-vw3zO0hnSBmx6BrMZZxGkMzRra5OLWjYcFxUY3H3KITD3FWfK3QD1-sa3/s320/broken+rose.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 19.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[1] First in line: <strong><span style="color: red;">DON’T DATE</span></strong> on the rebound. Or even try to hook up with a sexual partner just because you seem to be lonely, depressed or wanting validation or revenge—after you kicked him/her out the door or after you walked away. Sexual intimacy is not a drugstore prescription or a diet pill—although most people look at it that way. Provided one of the major reasons for your break-up is lack of romantic activity in the bedroom, finding someone to fix that right after giving up—is the stupidest move you’d ever do. You’ll know why, if you haven’t yet.</span></span> <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 19.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[2] Spend time with <strong><span style="color: red;">LOVED ONES:</span></strong> Parents, sisters and brothers, and most especially—your kids. Take them to a long drive, camp for the weekend, hike or sail, be together. They want to know what’s up, they are very concerned if you’re okay, and dad/mom is okay, too… Respond to their questions, listen—more than you expound your reasons for breaking up. This time, it’s not about you or him/her—it’s them. Don’t defend yourself or throw the blame on your partner, just make the kids feel and believe that it’s not their fault, and that, there is hope in the horizon despite the estrangement.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 19.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[3] <strong><span style="color: red;">TAKE A BREAK, </span></strong>alone. Travel to a faraway city or town—or country—where no one knows you. Go to a place where no one will make you feel sorry, blamed, angry, vindictive, vengeful, or triumphant—about your breakup. It’s a breakup and it needs to go… Reflect more on positive areas of your newly-acquired freedom. Don’t dwell on the bad stuff. Better be, go to a totally new world, new culture, new realities—and explore new possibilities, rediscover your inner peace and quiet. Don’t try to solicit confirmation or acceptance from a furious jilted lovers club that turns misery into a war of attrition between sexes and allow your fate to be a burning case study for sexual politics. Your case is simple but true: It didn’t work. It’s not his/her mess or yours. It just didn’t work, period. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 19.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[4] Navigate your <strong><span style="color: red;">CREATIVE</span></strong> humanity. There are a lot of wonderful things to do and accomplish in life than spend or throw it away by whining with a broken hearts convergence army. Quit weeping and cursing alone in front of a daytime soap opera with Krispy Kremes on hand or soak your midnights with a grainy b-movie, drowning your sorrows with Smirnoff. Instead—write a book, start a blog, paint a mural, compose an opera, dig up your backyard and build a garden, organize a band, produce a concert, develop a recipe line or throw a backyard party or tea afternoon for friends, think of a business, hold a workshop for kids, gather friends to a dance hall each weekend – do these with the thought that, at last, no one is there in the shadows watching your every move, controlling your decisions, arguing your strategies, or getting jealous with people around you. Most importantly, do something that isn’t a disguised attack on your ex—ie don’t write a blog or record a song that you actually wrote hoping he/she’d read or hear it. Come on, let it go! SNAP OUT OF IT!</span></span></div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-size: 19.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">[5] <strong><span style="color: red;">BE BEAUTIFUL,</span></strong> just the way you are. Look at yourself in the mirror. Do you need to lose weight or gain weight, work up some muscles, cut your hair, fix your skin, buy new clothes? Be beautiful, be fit, be healthy. Bottomline, in whatever shape and situation you’re in, just be happy with yourself. It’s not Dr Phil or your bestfriend bar buddy or your patronizing neighbor or Jenny Craig or The Situation who’s gonna tell you you’re lovely or good-looking, it’s you. Life is cool, living is great—and love will be waiting for you somewhere out there. But don’t rush, build friendships, enjoy your moments. Be cool. Smile and say, “Oh yeah!” Live good, love good—and eat only good food. </span></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-37552570081978124752011-05-02T12:54:00.000-07:002012-11-15T09:45:49.653-08:00THINGS TO DO when your internet connect—and Facebook, Twitter, all e-baubles—falter or conk out…<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlRpteDG9LLUEkiYdz0alE4PZXImtquHGYyTMVQdHA-F9x8EEKswbvufwKl-dA-9oVK0FjOO3kKvoU2QFlmgpGVNJjk5Xt209IKC7ZWkNEQSR5TKNVUIWBpDgCqu-4KuP7bGPZJICAzAl/s1600/internetaddict1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602210619534202962" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlRpteDG9LLUEkiYdz0alE4PZXImtquHGYyTMVQdHA-F9x8EEKswbvufwKl-dA-9oVK0FjOO3kKvoU2QFlmgpGVNJjk5Xt209IKC7ZWkNEQSR5TKNVUIWBpDgCqu-4KuP7bGPZJICAzAl/s320/internetaddict1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 223px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 226px;" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: 130%;">[1] It’s okay, things will be fine… <strong><span style="color: red;">TAKE A DEEP 20-SECOND BREATH,</span></strong> and heave—ahhhh!!! And then, think of all the good stuff and things there were before we all willingly—albeit entrancingly—severed our umbilical cord from life and living’s pristineness. Those days of yore when smoke signals were text messages, drumming or banjo pickings were ringtones, roosters’ sweet barkings were digital alarm clocks, and human yells across hills or over picket fences were Blackberry calls… Those days when social networking was a rollickin’ banter at Mr Robinson’s barber shop or at a basketball court in the `hood or at the Saturday evening benefit dance at the town plaza. Yes, things will be fine—hold that scream and drink Diet Mountain Dew. This is not the end of the world.</span><br />[2] There is a place called <strong><span style="color: red;">PUBLIC LIBRARY,</span></strong> you know that? Do you have a lib card? Yes, I know—most likely, you’d be queued with grizzly-bearded, homeless looking AA denizens, and you’re only allowed an hour per usage of public computers, and—okay now, there’s no porno surfing or YoVille games here… But this would also usher you around shelves and shelves of good books to read. Browse around, check out newspapers, Sports Illustrated, Atlantic Monthly, or Utne Reader—these are awesome reads, you know what I’m sayin’? You may even love the place! And totally quit the Net. You know what I’m saying?<br /><br />[3] <strong><span style="color: red;">DANCE</span></strong> a chicken dance, run around your `hood a-la Rocky or Manny Pacquiao, with Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” on your headgear—sweat it out. You can do it… While running, say this mantra: “My internet will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon…” If that doesn’t work—uhh, well. Recheck your last cable bill or account statement. Maybe you haven’t paid yet obligations yet? Figure it out.<br /><br />[4] What’s the point with staring at your laptop’s lifeless black and blue screen—when it’s not reacting at all? Do something. <strong><span style="color: red;">COOK!</span></strong> A lot of foul Friday night moods, hormonal imbalance, or just plain bitchiness are cured by an awesome, super-delicious dinner. So don’t sulk over a Facebook password that has been “compromised” (aka hacked) or an iPhone that isn’t part of mom’s monthly budget streamlining program anymore. Whip out that wok and attack the kitchen!<br /><br />[5] <strong><span style="color: red;">MEDITATE…</span></strong> Close your eyes, slide to a lotus or crane posture – or praying mantis or brooding pterodactyl position, whatever fits you—and say: “Jai guru deva om… baba nam kevalam… praise The Lord, hallelujah!” Whatever suits you. Better be, go to church, temple, or kirtan convergence—and feel the communal vibe, the enlightening wavelength, crush all your hedonistic/self-aggrandizing paradigms with the immaculate sentience of life and love’s ethereal bliss, whatever rocks you, my friend. Voila! When you open your eyes, you may as well be a new lump of glorious atomic chakra. You may just say, in a super-low, meek and ahimsaic voice: “Ahh, what do you mean, laptop? Facebook, Twitter? I don’t see them in my plane of being… I am The One in me, the universal entity… jai guru deva om. Where is my hummus dinner?”<br /><br />[6] Sweet, glorious animals—especially <strong><span style="color: red;">BABEDAWGS</span></strong> and <strong><span style="color: red;">KOOLCATS</span></strong>—are awesome companions, especially when you’re about to crack up by virtue of your stunning internet withdrawal. Unlike human beings, babedawgs/koolcats don’t really bark back at you when you start bitchin’ and cussin’ and all that messed up state of (in)sanity. They just stare back at you and may even interpret your bizarre actuations as an invite to play catch ball or frisbee. After awhile, you’d probably tell yourself: “Ah, look at these animals. They don’t need an email address or Facebook account to live or enjoy life, they are cool… I wish I am a babedawg myself… woof!”<br /><br />[7] Engage in a <strong><span style="color: red;">CONVERSATION</span></strong> with any sensible/sensitive human. This, of course, is a temporary solution that applies only to those who don’t have health insurance for a shrink appointment or don’t have babedawgs and koolcats to chat with… A conversation may turn out to be really creative and productive, and maybe—just maybe—your conversation partner may be able to loan you a few bucks so you could finally pay your cable connect… right? </span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-4422331139479404682011-03-22T23:35:00.000-07:002011-03-22T23:40:34.430-07:00TEN WAYS that you could try to have a fighting chance near a man’s heart… (not necessarily in order)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUaontMH0obP6G37NwNR-HQZfif1IJFQHISelfeD9PgNvEbpLRTFW9vhSp0H6ZrGLkruX1CFR0ZPeQbq_8QoWHkA8i5t1ZBhzV7ioHw4-TalByK2eps8nHQ_m5cmiuWBOKi6pSvGsJ-94/s1600/romantic+dude.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 280px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 180px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587161538603042098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUaontMH0obP6G37NwNR-HQZfif1IJFQHISelfeD9PgNvEbpLRTFW9vhSp0H6ZrGLkruX1CFR0ZPeQbq_8QoWHkA8i5t1ZBhzV7ioHw4-TalByK2eps8nHQ_m5cmiuWBOKi6pSvGsJ-94/s320/romantic+dude.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;">[1] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">DON’T IMPRESS</span></strong> him with your new butt tattoo or wonder bra enhanced cleavage. Most likely you’ll catch his attention but not his long-term interest. Yes, some dudes are kinda old-fashioned swains and not really moved by too much show of skin or display of flesh… Let his imagination flow—that is sexy.<br /><br />[2] Talk to him, draw out his emotion, <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">SQUEEZE HIS HEART OUT</span></strong>. Most men find it painstaking—even mushy or “not-too-masculine”—to let go off innermost emotions and sentiments. What they usually prefer blabbering about are sports, some politics, how cool they really are, and how hot the lady who just walked in is… But that doesn’t mean they are all that “superficial.” Mostly, it just takes some patience to heat them up. All those macho talk that he’s into, those are just facades.<br /><br />[3] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">KISS,</span></strong> don’t jump to the “other” calisthenics of sexual positions. Most men also want to look in the eyes of the woman he’s kissing. If you could get him to kiss you longer than he rushes for the jugular (you know, strip naked…) then he’s the kind of man who could probably give/receive love than some dude who just lusts for your body.<br /><br />[4] Let him have his <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">“MAN THING”</span></strong> toys, hobbies etc—if it doesn’t really hurt that much. Make him feel that despite him getting married or “snagged,” he doesn’t need to give up some of the little frivolous stuff that he does. I mean, if you could spare some time and dough on tanning machine visits and a few additional workout gadgets downstairs, why can’t he play some golf sometimes or collect some Transformers robots (oh yeah, they do that) and Ken dolls, uhhh.<br /><br />[5] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">DON’T NAG.</span></strong> Witch-hunting is a no-no. Most men don’t like to feel like they’re in a boot camp or training facility or inquisition trial. Don’t anticipate mistakes or faults. If you love him, let him feel that he can consistently, perpetually change for the better… Love makes both become better individuals. Inspire and motivate.<br /><br />[6] Be the gentle, <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">HOUSE-CONSCIOUS</span></strong> woman—without being the housekeeper. When you go to the store, try to buy kitchen implements—it’s not that you are the cook, maybe he’s the cook, and say, “Hey, sweetheart—I didn’t buy that new Revlon because I saw this cool Emeril wok, and I know you like this… and I bought a dozen Sunburst dish detergents, too…” I know of some women who don’t even know how to cook/prepare an omelet, but it doesn’t matter—he will cook as long as he feels he’s cooking for both of you.<br /><br />[7] Don’t buy his <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">GUILTY PLEASURE</span></strong> beers. But don’t prevent him either… just let him decide. Don’t condone his vices but don’t make him feel so bad either when he does. They key is moderation, subtlety. It’s all in the dynamics of a relationship…<br /><br />[8] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.</span></strong> A lot of beautifully-spontaneous night of sweetness, sensitivity, and sensuality (aka SEX), have been snuffed out by little, irksome bitchiness. This actually happened—GF (girlfriend): “You are giving me these red roses, and 12 roses at that?!” / BF (boyfriend): “Yes… what’s wrong?” / GF: “You are insensitive! You just contributed to the murder and commercialization of plants, they are also living things, you know—just like us!!!” Sexual intimacy… keep the it low, quiet, dim-lit. Don’t start a political rant how Hallmark sucked, or condoms must be organic, or “Did you just bought wine at Wal-mart???” Come on… hold, touch, cuddle, kiss—linger, explore, navigate. Just shut your pie hole, and strip each other naked—to a Kenny G CD… wwhat???<br /><br />[9] After a few weeks of seeing each other, dinners, and sleepovers (oh, it’s the modern era, okay?) it should be time to talk about <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT. </span></strong>Some men evade this kinda “serious” talk, especially when they’re not really into commitments. But some men want to hear what you think or feel, as well… Are you just having fun with sex thrown in, or you mutually plan to take this interaction/connection to another higher/deeper level?<br /><br />[10] Go with him to the bar, try to <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">GET INVOLVED</span></strong> with what he’s doing, too. Don’t always nag as in: “You are in that pool hall because there’s so many hot girls there!” Instead try to be with him, play with him etc. At the same time, can’t he also join you wherever you want chill, as well? While you two do the laundry together, or go contra-dancing, you may also join hands in pursuing community projects.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff6600;">--Pasckie The Dude<br /></span></strong></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-43114952143981432102011-02-18T22:15:00.000-08:002011-02-18T22:42:17.496-08:00TEN MOST ANNOYING STUFF & THINGS THAT WE ENCOUNTER IN A PUBLIC PLACE…<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqPucE4RBdrLIU9-cwEd-QVOH_JXN5F178J-aElFmhBsjJ84h6mkwCl8_Kb9PtctoHvpERDdHVDflRu9r_g6ZUPUVXSpm6jpHKaKO6KF_xbBdKcs4DM3dVpKaMw8rwwcBmT47QVIL78Ma/s1600/annoy.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 302px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575287256140416962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKqPucE4RBdrLIU9-cwEd-QVOH_JXN5F178J-aElFmhBsjJ84h6mkwCl8_Kb9PtctoHvpERDdHVDflRu9r_g6ZUPUVXSpm6jpHKaKO6KF_xbBdKcs4DM3dVpKaMw8rwwcBmT47QVIL78Ma/s320/annoy.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;">[1] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">CELLPHONE TALKERS</span></strong> in groceries. I simply don’t understand why earthlings engage on freewheeling banters in enclosed public places (“Hey, I just bought a really inexpensive leather boots at Macy’s. It’s like, only $357—how awesomest is that?!” “Oh really, so did she break up with him. Oh my God, so he didn’t know what a wheelbarrow maneuver is?!? Turn off!!” “What, honey? Koolwhip? Do we need that???”).<br /><br />[2] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">MOTORISTS</span></strong> who impatiently <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">HONK HORNS</span></strong> on slight provocation. This is really silly. They think it’s macho. I seldom see a motorist who could excise 3 seconds of wait behind another vehicle at a go signal. What’s the problem, people? A lot of these impatience result in road rage. As early as 1997, therapists were working to certify road rage as a medical condition. It is already an official mental disorder in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">. According to an article published by the Associated Press</span><span style="font-family:georgia;"> the behaviors typically associated with road rage are the result of intermittent explosive disorder</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">. This conclusion was drawn from surveys of some 9,200 adults in the United States between 2001 and 2003 and was funded by the National Institute of Mental Health</span><span style="font-family:georgia;">.<br /><br />[3] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">MOTORISTS</span></strong> who <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">SCREECH </span></strong>tires. If they are not gangbangers, they’re homeys of Item #1: Desperado attention-grabbers. What’s the point? Angry with the road or just angry with being angry?<br /><br />[4] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">RUDE FOOD SERVERS</span></strong>/waiters/waitresses. Let’s admit it. We tip really good if the server smiles like Meg Ryan, courteous like the Geico gecko, fast and efficient like Speedy Gonzales, and attentive like an erring kid who just broke the peanut butter bottle. But if your waitress/waiter pouts like a Donald Trump with a pair of Nancy Grace eyebrows, rude like a toll gate attendant with PMS, slow and clueless like a slug on hangover—don’t ever tip, even if you were dining in a New York City restaurant (where tipping is kinda obligatory, what is that?!)<br /><br />[5] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">COUPLES MAKIN’ OUT</span></strong> or <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">FIGHTING</span></strong> big time in public. Whatever they’re doing – swapping icky remnants of their last meal off their mouths or arguing over unpaid Netflix bills, this obnoxious and disrespectful actuation is just unacceptable, man! (that’s Cyd ranting.) Go get a room!!!<br /><br />[6] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">HOLIER THAN THOU</span></strong> TV talk show hosts. Probably, it’s about subtlety and handling. But most of these talk show hosts reek with narcissism and BS. Many times they proclaim that they are just channeling the people/public’s heartbeat. I don’t think so—most of them have their partisan or commercial agenda. Why can’t they stay on the middle and just let the public speak? Their job is to preside or traffic or initiate public opinion, NOT promote and push their own opinion.<br /><br />[7] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">NEIGHBORS</span></strong> who <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">INCESSANTLY COMPLAIN</span></strong> of dogs barking five times. Dogs bark because they don’t talk like humans. So “barking” in babedawg language isn’t the same as we humans define the word. I don’t understand why we are so obsessed with pets but are so sensitive and touchy and upset when they start acting like animals. What if animals plug our mouths when we start yapping around like Glen Beck, would you like it? Just imagine how irritated they are when people argue so loudly…<br /><br />[8] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">SUPER-LOUD, SUPER-ANGRY ACTIVISTS</span></strong> and religious bigots who judge and measure people from head to toe back and forth, up and down. There’s a thin line between advocating a cause and judging reality—so I am also working out ways to fight this obnoxious demon on my back. It’s impossible to convince and persuade people about a certain truth while we brandish a fire-spewing mouth. It burns. It’s more effective to appeal to the people’s collective heart and spirit if we do it benignly, anchored on peace and quiet.<br /><br />[9] People who keep on <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">TALKING</span></strong> (or yapping about) in <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">CAFES </span></strong>(or venues) while a show is going on. I organize/produce shows and gigs—and also perform—so I am so sensitive and touchy about people not paying attention or simply don’t care (that there are artists onstage sharing some good stuff). The most that they could do is, as RuPaul hisses, “Please, sashay away… bitch!”<br /><br />[10] <strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">DRINKERS</span></strong> who couldn’t keep still after 5 beers. The smoothest earthling (who drinks) is one who could still play it cool after 7 beers, can you do that? It’s a major turnoff to find drinkers who believe they should be understood or tolerated for a nasty girth just because they are drunk…<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;">by Pasckie The Dude</span></strong></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-8740550839618419952011-02-02T15:51:00.000-08:002011-02-02T15:56:26.880-08:00SEVEN LINES that somehow confuse me…<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG_Ur26W6Kc2wgCKvHelxUBfcFFxkBKMnUTkXEH0tldxPIYSc9d7IreP4GB5hrdZqK_LGlrkvEWKg4IYoDjAw0al6eZm9leX7cYkAe4fQvZcnTzcEHqSxkEvrxp8AupmVHrsLVZAITyC_/s1600/IMG_8341.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 192px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569245280393670130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG_Ur26W6Kc2wgCKvHelxUBfcFFxkBKMnUTkXEH0tldxPIYSc9d7IreP4GB5hrdZqK_LGlrkvEWKg4IYoDjAw0al6eZm9leX7cYkAe4fQvZcnTzcEHqSxkEvrxp8AupmVHrsLVZAITyC_/s320/IMG_8341.JPG" /></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong><span style="color:#ff6600;">YOU MIGHT</span></strong> think I’m talkin’ smack here, but I am stating facts or truths (at least, in regards weird conjectures and sweet fumbles that define my perpetually evolving great American “railway bazaar” journey). Believe it or not, when I am greeted with, “How are you doin’?” on the street (by strangers or acquaintances), I still response with a courteous, detailed accounting of what I’m actually doing at that time (“Oh well, I woke up at 6:17 this morning, had free-trade coffee, read NY Times, checked my Facebook for an hour, 17 minutes, and 35 seconds. Then, I sat down and pondered, what’s wrong with Katy Perry marryin’ this dude?… then, realized I needed to call my sister!”) Or whenever I stammer my silly island jokes and I get, “Get outta here…” I still meekly scoot out of the room… and feel so offended. The following, I purposely singled out those lines with kind of sexual connotations or subtext/s, or tell me…<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[1] Let’s hang out and PLAY.<br /></span></strong>The catchword is “play.” But then, I can never tell what “play” actually meant… There were times when I stayed over in some of my female friends’ houses, had dinner, and played lots of scrabble and monopoly, till we dropped exhausted (after two glasses of red wine). In those instances, I slept on the couch almost automatically… and then, at the breakfast table, I am asked, “Don’t you like me?” So I meekly respond, “Of course, I like you!” (One time I was invited to do some gardening and “if it’s okay to play” with the water hose… uhh.)<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[2] I REALLY like you!<br /></span></strong>What was supposedly a simple, uncomplicated, non-suggestive complimentary remark in a galaxy so far away—becomes a confusing invite and/or straightforward statement here. But I am not really sure, I can never be sure… are you? But then, it seems it’s a more honest come-on that an “I love you,” in most cases.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[3] You wanna STAY the night?<br /></span></strong>I never thought “staying” means sleeping in her bed. And “sleeping together” means sex. One time, I took a long overnight Greyhound trip to Adirondacks NY from Atlantic City—with a lady friend. Later, I was asked by friends what did you we do while on the night trip. I said, “We talked and slept together.” We did sleep together, shoulder to shoulder—and woke up together, as well. You know, what I mean…<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[4] No strings attached but let’s be EXCLUSIVE with each other.<br /></span></strong>Apparently, we people don’t like to be in “formal/official” relationship trappings, right? Like, we don’t want jealousies, insecurities, arguments etc—all those corny boyfriend-girlfriend confections. Right? But we need to be sexually intimate when we need it… but then, we can be either jealous he/she might be screwing others or scared of catching STDs. So we say, “Let’s just sleep with each other, okay? But, remember, we are just friends… Do your thing and I do my thing.” Friends with (sexual) benefits, uh-huh.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[5] NOTHING SERIOUS, just havin’ fun.<br /></span></strong>So play the field… call me when you get “lonely,” let’s watch a movie, maybe cook together? Just having fun. Have sex, take it easy… just having fun. When it gets serious, fun over. Next!<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[6] I LOVE YOU but I am not in love with you.<br /></span></strong>Why say, I love you, in the first place—if there’s such difference between “loving” and “in love with”? Or when it’s over—why can’t people just say, “I don’t love you anymore”? I think, when he/she just loves you and not “in love” with you—that’d mean, you’ve just become a DiGiorno pizza or Kings of Leon CD. God, I love that mozzarella! Oh yes, I so love Caleb Followill!<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">[7] Let’s HOOK UP.<br /></span></strong>Nah, I am not going to say it. At all!!!<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:85%;color:#009900;">--by Pasckie The Dude</span></strong></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-32203760230165524252010-12-10T21:58:00.000-08:002011-07-31T23:37:58.269-07:00SUPERCOOL GIFT IDEAS—for relations, family, friends (any occasion)…<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7aqSwm-zGQSMTK9yrBbv2MiQ-3rhNvu__PzM6gBe7fLo-WADnYrFtUQ3ZJJFhH7M9SKqOPgBjIiaMHzHSS0i5MYWI3jhphSKAoX8ER9-1oHCVxl_-RDoGoOn4NvSO4DAt3VkDutNlq6p/s1600/gift1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn7aqSwm-zGQSMTK9yrBbv2MiQ-3rhNvu__PzM6gBe7fLo-WADnYrFtUQ3ZJJFhH7M9SKqOPgBjIiaMHzHSS0i5MYWI3jhphSKAoX8ER9-1oHCVxl_-RDoGoOn4NvSO4DAt3VkDutNlq6p/s1600/gift1.jpg" t$="true" /></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">[1] <strong><span style="color: red;">BOOKS.</span></strong> Really good old ones—say, “Of Mice and Men” by John Steinbeck or “To Kill a Mockingbird” by Harper Lee, or kinda heavy stuff that has immediate relevance these days… I’m talking about, for example, a Howard Zinn book or futurist author Alvin Toffler’s trilogy on digital age, communication revolution, information overload, and technological singularity: “Future Shock,” “The Third Wave,” and “Powershift.” Or, maybe try neat easy-readings like a collection of Calvin and Hobbes or Marvel Superheroes Comics… Or, why not go for revered poetry in the likes of Pablo Neruda’s “Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada” ("Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair"), and although I am not necessarily talking about “Delta of Venus” by Anais Nin, cool erotica isn’t bad at all. (NOTE: I am strongly admonishing you NOT to dabble on e-books… or books read via a Kindle, or whatever it is where people read books these days, nah! Well, buy a Kindle but still—send the real stuff with a real book cover and real paper pages, guys!)<br />
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[2] A <strong><span style="color: red;">SPIRITUAL</span></strong> book. Whether you agree with me or not (oh well!), I believe that humanity has either lost or mixed up its concept or understanding of universal good and evil in the light of the current man vs machine “conventional wisdom” (if there is such a thing). Why not read back and reflect “the good book”—may it be The Holy Bible, Quran, Bhagavad Gita… The receiver may be an atheist, pagan, wiccan, anarchist, Taoist/Buddhist, or a DOC (Divine Order of The Cool)—it doesn’t really matter. Good is good, and bad is bad—but let’s (re)check things out and ponder a bit. Let’s look back to where humanity’s reflexes and responses were first anchored. Are you with me, Bob?<br />
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[3] A <strong><span style="color: red;">JOB.</span></strong> Last time I checked, unemployment rate in the United States was pegged at 9.80 percent—so it’s likely that the person who’s expecting a present from you is jobless or wanting to find a better-paying employment situation. This could be the most practical and realistic gift that you could give a friend or relative. Or maybe you yourself don’t have a job, right? So give yourself a present—go get your butt off the Facebook thang and find a friggin’ job!!!<br />
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[4] Cook a great <strong><span style="color: red;">DINNER.</span></strong> Whip out a special sumptuous gathering for 20 or 200—and declare it a Superspecial Party for her/him. Think of a costume motif: Superheroes, 30s era, polyester years, animal get-ups, witches ball etc etc etc. And cook the dishes, I mean—Armenian Easy Broiled Mackerel, Baby Bok Choy with Garlic, Bourbon Chicken, Bamboo Shoots on Coconut Milk. Be creative—chuck the usual breaded pork chops and mashed taters. Because this entails budget, you may require your party guests to bring gifts for her/him and for each other, like good old exchange gift-giving gig, got my drift?<br />
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[5] A gift that you feel is some stuff and thing that’ll make him/her <strong><span style="color: red;">HAPPY</span></strong> (depends on what’s their profession, persuasion, guilty pleasure, eccentricity etc). That’s what the entire deal all about, anyways—make the person happy! So, this time—try not to be so freakin’ politically-correct, killjoy-philosophical, or a some sort of whiny master of relevance… like you just read a mind-altering Utne Reader article or gotten off from a fiery activist gathering in a downtown bookstore/café… You know what I’m saying, bro? Yup—you may score (if you can reasonably afford them) an Amazon Kindle e-book reader (am I inconsistent!), iPad tablet computer, Van Cleef and Arpels jewelry, Titanium kitchen set, Black & Decker power tool, a Maserati Quattroporte V or a yacht (yes, a yacht!)… But then, in the case what you could realistically afford is a found treasure at a thrift store or Goodwill Outlet—so be it (just wrap it pretty nicely… sometimes, packaging and presentation do the trick).<br />
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[6] A <strong><span style="color: red;">PET.</span></strong> This is a personal revelation: babedawgs and koolcats touched my humanity this year. They are good company, especially when you coexist with dubious humans who can’t seem to settle down their ass or yap about anything at all on your exasperated face. Enough already! You see, animals don’t complain as much as whiny human beings do, and they don’t expect you to go fetch Kourtney Kardashian or Snooki Polizzi to cheer them up either… These cute superhomeys don’t expect you to walk upside down from the rooftop and down to your apartment unit to let them know you exist—they are not that stupid. They are cool living things, you know what I’m sayin’? Of course, you may expand your choices from babedawgs and koolcats to horses, birds, fishes, hamsters—but no pterodactyls, hippos, monkey-eating eagles, or anacondas. Okay?<br />
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[7] A prepaid <strong><span style="color: red;">MEMBERSHIP</span></strong> into something that you know may make him/her a better or peaceful person: yoga class, cooking class, exercise class, superheroes lovers class, scrapbookers class, bloggers class, contra dancing class, Eat Pray Love lovers class, hummus eaters class, meditation class, Rumi ruminators class, belly-flapper divers class etcetera. As long as the class is classy, you’re cool.<br />
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[8] A <strong><span style="color: red;">ROAD TRIP</span></strong> somewhere—just you and him/her. This could be a second/third/4th/101th honeymoon with your lovey-dovey or a long road drive with your daughter or son that you haven’t really done… Make up for lost time or just revive/rejuvenate the bonding. In between big city/small town stops, go watch an NBA game or a Broadway play, fish by the lake, visit a museum, marvel at Niagara Falls, or bungee jump at the Grand Canyon. You may reveal a long-kept secret (this maybe dramatic but make sure it’ll end up fine not both of you bruised and battered), propose a long-term union, suggest a collaborative project, unveil some sexuality ideas (hmmm….), whatever.<br />
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[9] A CD box set or a DVD collector’s pack. Nothing beats this <strong><span style="color: red;">GIFT SET,</span></strong> I tell you—this transcends age and lunacy, hormonal mood swings and madness-bouts. CD box sets from the Bee Gees’ “Mythology: The 50th Anniversary Collection” to Bruce Springsteen’s “The Promise: The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story” to “Sinatra: New York” to Miles Davis’ “Bitches Brew: 40th Anniversary Collector's Edition” to Franz Schubert, all-time jazz greats, The Chipmunks – go get `em! As for DVD collector’s packages—I recommend “Clint Eastwood: 35 Films 35 Years at Warner Brothers” (hints, hints, hints). This jewel is Eastwood’s entire filmography from “Where Eagles Dare” through “Gran Torino”: 35 films on 19 discs, including 16 two-sided discs. But, if you’re not a Clint Eastwood diehard like yours truly, well… go get some 4-in-1 $5 junk at Wal-Mart, instead (just kidding).<br />
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[10] <strong><span style="color: red;">YOURSELF.</span></strong> Be present… Just for the entire 24 hours on this special day, chuck the cellphone, stupid texting, Facebooking (uhh… uh, well), cable TV surfing, whining, ranting, complaining—and just be with the one/s you love. Enough said.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #ffcc33; font-size: 85%;"><em>--Pasckie The Dude</em></span></strong></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-76263703576617116122010-11-08T14:46:00.000-08:002017-03-21T08:52:11.926-07:00TEN WAYS that you could try to have a chance near a woman’s heart...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50NHRgYBgteEh_kcknk8aCxI1lqBXEUyU4dmN3F4qVa-zlKVJX_yaZW8qdP4JzrbN2_dxlUhW01PthWPF0iOWBkssBsRKzG__Q3wqYhfSKS4NhDRxCAni6UMIjq_PYYWSlwMHN9s_JEJI/s1600/rose8.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537315543136936866" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50NHRgYBgteEh_kcknk8aCxI1lqBXEUyU4dmN3F4qVa-zlKVJX_yaZW8qdP4JzrbN2_dxlUhW01PthWPF0iOWBkssBsRKzG__Q3wqYhfSKS4NhDRxCAni6UMIjq_PYYWSlwMHN9s_JEJI/s320/rose8.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 177px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 284px;" /></a><span style="font-family: "georgia";"><strong><span style="color: #ff6600; font-size: 85%;">(not necessarily in order...)</span></strong><br />[1] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">DON’T IMPRESS with MATERIAL EXCESS. </span></strong>You know what I mean—a fancy car, Harley-Davidson, Brooks Brothers coat/tie, Rolex, or knockout iMac may catch her attention for sometime… but these get so old and boring so quickly even before you realized you’ve just maxed out your AmEx. Besides, a lady who’s after bombastic wheels and Platinum credit cards aren’t really good long-term pursuits. You lose her as soon as the repo dude takes your BMW away… You know, there are times when an inexpensive three red roses, a poem scribbled on a notepad and placed on her windshield, a healthy dinner dish that you cooked yourself—go a long, long way…<br /><br />[2] <span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>THE DYING ART of KISSING.</strong> </span>Provided, you have just hurdled the initial barrier—and there’s a window of opportunity and blessing to kiss (uhh, make out), here’s my tip. Kiss like a swain, a sensitive romantico who patiently awaits for a full moon’s shade to serenade his muse and then kisses her hand first before her lips. Kiss like it’s always the first kiss of your life: No matter, whether you are 23 years old or 87 years young. Kiss like it’s the most beautifully intimate gift of man-woman intertwine. Kiss like—if you don’t do it right, you lose the heavenly chance to go anywhere beyond the couch.<br /><br />[3] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">REMEMBER THE FIRST-TIMES.</span></strong> A failing memory won’t take you anywhere, I tell you. Do you know the name of the pizza parlor where you first shared a Honolulu Hawaiian Pizza? And don’t forget exactly what’s on it: sliced ham, bacon, pineapple and roasted red peppers with provolone cheese on a parmesan asiago crust? Domino’s, Pizza Hut, or Mellow Mushroom? Do you remember the shirt color and brand that she wore on your first date, the first sappy/mushy or slasher/gory movie that you both saw on a Multiplex? The name of her first-ever babedawg or koolcat, the name of her favorite niece from a second-cousin who’s married to an ex-Marine in Rhode Island and who moved 3 years ago to Charlotte, the name of her first sanitary napkin brand, the name of her first CD purchase or download buy? This is hard, can be ridiculous—but most women I know, value all these sentimental memorabilias, so keep a notebook handy always.<br /><br />[4] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.</span></strong> Some dudes engage in sex like it’s a war, an aggressive clash of attrition, a rough venue to release anger. Well, I don’t know about that—but what I know is that, most women wanna make love, you know what I mean? Hold, touch, cuddle, kiss—linger, explore, navigate. Rediscover her body like it’s the lush glory of the Amazon, an aftermidnight shower by Niagara Falls on a humid season… Adore and caress her body, like it’s the transcendent physicalization of love itself. Make love like tomorrow is not gonna happen, like it’s all that matters. Remember, it takes humongous patience and selfless love to make a lady satisfied in bed; don’t do a one-trick pony gig or a 3-minute blues-rock jam. This is the moment of your life, dude!<br /><br />[5] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">ACCOMPLISH TASKS that may not be called “MASCULINE” or MACHO.</span></strong> Cook her dinner—COOK! Don’t score some nasty TV dinners or Chinese buffet deliveries. Cook like cooking is the undying art of human glory. Do laundry, buy groceries, wash dishes, take out the trash, vacuum the floor, brush her bathtub, iron her office dress, hang her coat, place her shoes where they should belong. All these—I REPEAT—are punctuated and intermissioned by cooking.<br /><br />[6] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">TRY NOT TO ARGUE, LISTEN TO HER.</span></strong> Billy Joel once sang: “She’ll ask for the truth but she’ll never believe.” No matter. Just respond—don’t say, “I don’t know” or “I am busy.” Drop anything that you’re occupied with (may it be a Facebook post or a World Series game) and ask her, “What’s up?” Make her feel important, needed, beautiful. In case you get pissed with whatever she’s in the mood to fight about, keep your cool—maybe it’s just her hormones, monthly period, bills-payment day, or she just had a bad hair day. Take it easy. Don’t engage her but talk to her, listen to her—even though she has already told you that unforgettable summer camp horror story 1 million times already. A major blunder is—for you you head out the door and kill time at a bar, while she’s yelling at you.<br /><br />[7] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">BE FUNNY.</span></strong> Make her laugh, make her relax those tired and weary bones—by making her laugh till her stomach ache for some loving. You can rant and rave about stuff and things but be sure to take a time out to crack one funny joke and more. I tell you, this is a guaranteed tip—done this a lot in the past and it took me to places in a woman’s heart… and hips.<br /><br />[8] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">DO THINGS TOGETHER. </span></strong>Being together is being together (that is, if you are already dating)—but you can still try to be “together” even if you are not yet there. Bring a cool DVD movie to her apartment, watch it together on a candlelit room, or sit down with her over two hours of “Dancing with the Stars,” The Barefoot Contessa or HGTV. Accompany her in shopping—push the cart, make good buy suggestions, carry her humongous grocery load, open the car door, fill up the gas. Of course, don’t ever forget that going out to dinner—after a night at the opera—works good, as well. That’s the perfect time to hand her a really lovely love poetry or a cassette tape of a song that you wrote for her and recorded in your bathroom.<br /><br />[9] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">EVERYTHING in MODERATION.</span></strong> Women (or sane humans) don’t like addicts of any kind. You don’t need to be an extreme “perfect” dude who doesn’t touch a bottle of PBR or smoked a weed in your life. Don’t give her bullshit. Just be real and considerate. Don’t get drunk, stoned, or reeking with nicotine. These are no-no, lose-lose deals. That’s the father of all fuck-ups, okay?<br /><br />[10] <strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">OPTIONAL (apply when necessary). HAVE a pet BABEDAWG or KOOLCAT…</span></strong> You know what I am saying?<br /><br /><span style="color: #ffcc33; font-size: 85%;"><strong>--Pasckie The Dude</strong></span></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-4332253461671877912010-10-24T22:46:00.000-07:002012-10-20T23:23:03.383-07:00REASONS Why Some Women are More Interesting...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyjchtGy-D59cqoT7jD1ASoUrhKMS2XymkBakvrHRmro_2dnjRcpU1Vx1P7bTIj-ZQoYPWfTkVJqm_8_9wD4kfxGIXqxUbf1U3KnAB8C1qWMDPdSXfsOiACcbo5I34nO0NkZcDU-zsftUw/s1600/woman.rubens.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565503988978909986" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyjchtGy-D59cqoT7jD1ASoUrhKMS2XymkBakvrHRmro_2dnjRcpU1Vx1P7bTIj-ZQoYPWfTkVJqm_8_9wD4kfxGIXqxUbf1U3KnAB8C1qWMDPdSXfsOiACcbo5I34nO0NkZcDU-zsftUw/s400/woman.rubens.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 157px;" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;">[1] <strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">She doesn’t make too much effort</span></strong> trying so hard to sound interesting and attractive. She doesn’t compete with whoever’s attention (man or woman) and she doesn’t heed the latest fad or fashion just to keep up with the “competition.” She believes she’s cool and… deal with it! She’s the kind of woman who believes she’s most beautiful right after jumping off the bed in the morning—hair in disarray, half-naked, “un-made,” enticingly grumpy, and sleepy eyes… 29 years old or 72 years young, and whatever shape her lustre and beauty is in--she's a woman who could launch a thousand ships and delay bullet trains.<br /><br />[2] <strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">The way she moves</span></strong>—not really the sex vixen, purry catwoman moves… which is pretty obvious and contrived. Just that sure, confident, unaffected move. Posture, poise, subtlety, grit, grace. Some mysterious amazon who’d look you in the eyes and pierce your soul--without really staring at you.<br /><br />[3] <strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">She says NO.</span></strong> The woman who says no to a man with a straight face and tells him, NO! without explanation is the renegade spirit with a mission… A woman who doesn’t easily fall for a man’s usually outdated advances or pick up lines is a woman who could take you to heaven with just a wave of her hands. Yes, a woman who walks the talk, and speaks her mind… irrelevant whether the man talks more—she knows how to shut his pie hole without arguing.<br /><br />[4] <strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">A woman who takes control</span></strong> but willing to relegate the steering wheel to a man when she needs to, or vice versa, depends on circumstances. A woman who regards relationships are not man versus woman war of the sexes but a working synergy of two human beings with diverse body chemistry but parallel wavelengths.<br /><br />[5] <strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">She makes a stand and defends</span></strong> it by showing how it’s done in practice than rhetoric. It doesn’t really matter whether she’s Left or Right, conservative or radical (she doesn’t oblige to categorical isms). What matters is she sticks to her beliefs and convictions and happy living it—because, for her, the universal good and bad is inherent in the human heart whether you are female or male, gay or straight, ideological blue or political orange.<br /><br />[6] <strong><span style="color: #ff6600;">A woman who smiles with her eyes</span></strong> and laughs with her brain… and makes love with her heart.<br /><br />[7] <span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>A woman who cooks for two</strong>.</span> I mean, a woman who—instead of asking a man, “What do you want me to cook?” will instead say, “This is what I like to cook, wanna try it?” I just love watching a woman rule the kitchen: hair tied up, white knee-high skirt, apron, sweaty forehead, chopping onions with ferocious ease, juggling spices and herbs like a wicked sorceress hissing sweet mysteries off the wok … and dancing to a full moon’s bossa nova like only the stars and butterflies are watching.<br /><br /><span style="color: #009900; font-size: 85%;"><strong><em>--Pasckie The Dude</em></strong></span></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #ffcc00; font-size: 85%;">[art credit: Peter Paul Rubens]</span></strong>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1197932298212449122.post-22731695446393009682010-08-05T22:28:00.000-07:002011-06-13T23:48:55.378-07:00THINGS THAT YOU MIGHT CONSIDER: “… when you feel you are in love again.”<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502166716891352258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmfnrH0EleWNJYN1yhaCMRR9kErW4WuZeFClsPMDYJqgCKn1Z3ihyphenhyphenFudffljIu8Zo5h-twPbmTSivhO4X8aVU1qYGPHdq9uBQEIlKjAdfAv7kdpF9DdW4L3IpRxNQv6-ZDXiha8VQV6pNa/s320/flower.bmp" style="cursor: hand; float: right; height: 320px; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; width: 179px;" /><span style="font-family: georgia;"><strong><span style="color: #ffcc00; font-size: 130%;"><em>[Actual practice doesn’t come easy, but still—it’s good to know that we can always try]</em></span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[1] JUST LET IT FLOW.</span></strong> Don’t justify or rationalize or “confirm” your feelings. Take it easy, let it flow. Don’t panic and subject your heart in a sort of Grand Inquisition chamber: Am I really in love or I am just horny, or I am just lonely, or I just dig his/her new hairdo? Or don’t counter-interrogate yourself, like—“Is he/she just a reflection of my past? Good shit now, but all SHIT the next?” Come on! Past is past—the present is here and now. And the future is something lovely to realistically dream about... Don’t look for faults and mistakes—sad, bad reflections of your past relationships and broken valentines—with the person you are with right now. Today is a new page, he or she and both of you are a new story to explore, navigate and rediscover. Give each other a chance to be better human beings. Do something different: Bungee jump together tied on pink ropes, or something. Body-paint each other atop a water tank in Hell, Indiana or Mt Kilimanjaro... just do it.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[2] TRANSLATE THE SURGE OF EMOTION INTO SOMETHING CREATIVE.</span></strong> Don’t daydream, hon. He/she is as human as hands trembling and letting go a glass fall and break. Her body has bumps and scars that could exude a new, sweet layer of warmth… your hands and legs have assumed a frail stride that may also mean a new set of tenderness by a park bench. Capture these like you seize the moments and keep them in you. Paint, write songs, cook new recipes, feed people, romance the earth, feel the wind caressing your hair. This is the moment, savor it. But do it because it’s about you and him/her for the world. Don’t believe in mushy crap like, “You and Me Against the World.” That’s nonsense!<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[3] LEARN TO WALTZ AND BOOGIE (in bed and beyond).</span></strong> Sweat it out, let love’s juices flow. Yup, they flow really good in the dead of night as the moon’s little eyes of light shine in between the cracks of your bedroom window and the music of the stream flowing or the incessant rain cadence with your naked bodies communicating, feeding, healing, consuming each other… But beyond the bedroom intimacy, go out—run/jog, play basketball or few rounds of pool, dance and boogie to Chuck Berry or the Rolling Stones. Sweat the love juices out… then replenish them over and over and over again.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[4] BE PRACTICAL, CHECK YOUR DEBIT CARD.</span></strong> Now listen, love is not all or 100 percent heartwarming romanticism. Reality is, there are material/financial matters in life that go with love and loving. These days are dire economic times but you are not finding someone to help you pay the bills… but you are (also) looking for someone to ease your worried mind and make things a bit manageable. Not just someone who is always there to massage your tired foot and your aching back or kiss your tears to dry… but someone you can run to when Wachovia or Wells Fargo start acting like the way they are, legal thieves. Life like love is real.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[5] LISTEN THAN SPEAK.</span></strong> Love can only grow than wilt away. Love is beautiful because it is a two-way street, a synergy of wavelengths, a communication continuum. Listen to what she/he’s got to say. Let things flow (the magic word)… you and him/her together is not an organizational meeting. It is the “feel” of the moment that ushers talking/speaking/listening. You can email, if that suits you better… or you can drive up Blue Ridge Parkway and talk/listen. That is being together – ie dinners, laundry gigs, cooking etc – matter a lot.<br />
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</span><span style="color: #009900;">[6] GO OUT WITH HER/HIM</span></strong><span style="color: #009900;">.</span> Go camping, make a 50 miles drive, build a bonfire, watch a festival of bands, interact with the world with her. Don’t squeeze all the lovin’ inside the bedroom… that’ll subside and go into a “sweet seisure” (to paraphrase Joseph Campbell) before it rewinds again and go into its 2nd (3rd/4th etc etc) wind. It is also kinda stressful to be inside the house always… go to Hot Springs, for example—or camp somewhere beside the French Broad River. Anywhere together where the wind and the breeze and the rain and snow and sunshine keep you company is all good.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[7] AFTER THE HOT KISSES AND WARM HOLDING SUBSIDE A BIT…</span></strong> talk about realism more than starry-eyed-musings about romanticism. What is it that needs to be “changed” or improved on as individuals and as a couple. Be honest. Don’t afraid to admit that you used to dine on deep-fried wahoos or sleeps upside down like a bat on hangover, or maybe you are shy to admit that you have a collection of Bee Gees or KC & The Sunshine Band records and dresses up like Grandmaster Flash when depressed… or whatever it is that you may find embarrassing or “inappropriate.” He or she will understand because love has its own special way of making things work out. You two just’ve to have to honest and sincere.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[8] COMMUNICATE MORE, SPEND MORE TIME TOGETHER.</span></strong> See each other more, if you can help it. Presence is like water to a seed. Love isn’t there yet as a full-blown or blossomed rose, it’s just a seed right now—but there are no plants or trees without seeds. The seed of love—that sweet, little tingle that tickles your insides… that is good. Water it, nurture it—be together. This is apart from the cellphone calls, text message/s, Instant Messenger chats, emails, Skype video chats. But you should know how to keep a handle of your pace… you know when you are overdoing or underdoing it.<br />
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<span style="color: #009900;">[9] PRAY/SHARE WITH GOD THIS NEW, WONDERFUL FEELING.</span></strong> Bestfriends are cool, a how-to tip from Cosmopolitan is cool, a suggestion from your pet dog or cat is cool, Judge Judy’s advice is cool, a visit to your shrink is cool, too—but it’s the ultimate cool to talk to God. It is you conversing with your inner humanity… love is transcendent, love is healing time, life is the future. God will guide you.<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #009900;">[10] FACEBOOK IT.</span></strong> Don’t announce it to the world, just send out little ticklish silly funny hints that you are just feeling so cool inside you feel like breakdancing to “Play That Funky Music” amidst an autumn rain falling in the mud (nah, not the Tom Cruise kinda trick, that’s no really good for ya). But you know what I mean. Once in a little while, take a break from the rants and raves—like maybe allow a page or two—to send out silly love songs than an angry slew of sociopolitical vitriols. Despite the trials and tribulations, shortcomings and shit—life and living are still gifts of humanity. Enjoy! When you feel like you are falling in love… fall like a freefalling leaf touching the inviting earth, don’t fall like a piano coming down a 7th floor window down to the cold pavement. Dig?<br />
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<strong><em><span style="color: #00cccc; font-size: 85%;">--Pasckie The Superhomey</span></em></strong></span>PASCKIE PASCUAhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05312716892828923035noreply@blogger.com0