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Pia Cayetano always reminding us, when she has the chance, that she's a lawyer. 😂 If you're trying to wield that like a weapon, remember that an experienced professional chef has professional knife skills as well. He or she can use those skills to scale and fillet a fish, or debone a fowl, or peel off the hide of some game animal -- or choose to slit another person's throat. You're a lawyer and senator, but you chose to use your skills, privilege, and experience to protect someone who misused her confidential funds; someone who regularly abused her power as both the vice president and education secretary (and as mayor of Davao City before that); and someone who (more recently) threatened the president of the republic and his wife, plus the former speaker of the House (I don't like any of them, but that's irrelevant in this case), and (several years ago -- but still) beat up a court sheriff who was just doing his job? And by the way, the person who did all that ...

The mob is blaming De'Aaron Fox for getting blocked by OG Anunoby, instead of holding the ball and waiting to get fouled. They say Fox lost San Antonio the game.  I wouldn't pin this on Fox. 1. You see an open lane to the basket, you take it strong. He got blocked by Anunoby, sure, but OG is a stud. (In fact, in the succeeding offensive play, it was Anunoby who tipped in the ball after a Jalen Brunson 3-point miss.) Fox's decision to go for the layup was the right call. 2. They were up by 29 fucking points. TWENTY-NINE. After that Victor Wembanyama flagrant foul on Karl Anthony Towns, the Spurs inexplicably jacked up eight 3-pointers. They missed all of them. (On the other end, the Knicks made their threes, which helped whittle down the Spurs lead even more.) Why the fuck would you continue shooting threes even after consecutive misses, when you can get higher-percentage shots in the paint? While still up big? That wasn't Fox's fault. 3. Wembanyama misse...

I hate to phrase it this way, but majority of us have sucked corporate cock just to put food on the table. I mean this figuratively, of course, in the way that we are viewed as mere TOOLS (pun intended) who reluctantly latch on to the capitalist system's shlong and subsist on watery precum just to survive while the multimillionaires and billionaires fatten themselves with rich and creamy Grade-A cultured whole buttermilk (our own jizz, the sweat of our brows, when you think about it -- oh the irony!). (Of course others [male or female] have unfortunately had to LITERALLY suck corporate dick to survive, but who am I to judge?) What I have a HARD time (again, pun intended) not judging is figuratively (or literally) sucking a corrupt politician's cock. Surely there are other less-degrading ways to earn a living? Some people will say (most probably those who work for politicians), "You pimp yourself to capitalists, anyway. What's the fucking difference?" Well, the fuc...

  I just heard the stupidest thing the other day, that people don't have time to read novels anymore, relying instead on "book summaries" sold on Amazon, with such titles as "50 Books You Don't Have Time to Read, Briefly Summarized." And we all know that people don't have time to write anymore (and when I say WRITE I mean write from SCRATCH, which actually requires you to USE your brain), relying instead on ChatGPT, Gemini, or Copilot to "produce" "content" for them. People don't have time to philosophize about life, they don't have time to study history (and so, naturally, they are doomed to repeat the same mistakes), they don't have time to learn a new language, they think that making art and literature and music is useless. They don't care that teachers who actually teach you how to think are going to lose their jobs. They don't realize that everyone is going to lose their jobs anyway because of artificial intel...

Is it a Virgo thing, this penchant for thinking about things you've lost over the years? For instance, I suddenly remembered this blue American Eagle polo shirt that an uncle gave me several years ago, which I can't find in my closet anymore. It's not even one of my favorite shirts; I didn't like the size and the cut particularly, especially in the tummy area, because it made me look fat. I was lying on the couch the other day, taking a nap, when in that zone between wakefulness and sleep I was suddenly jolted awake by the realization that I haven't seen the shirt in a while. And so instead of trying to go back to my nap I cut it short and headed to my room -- and my closet, of course -- to try to find the shirt. Of course I didn't find it. There seems to be a Twilight Zone dimension where lost objects from all over the world just find themselves teleported to, never to be seen again by their original owners. And for majority of those owners, unless it's a b...