<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d26651252\x26blogName\x3dThe+Girl+in+the+Dirty+Shirt\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://thedirtyshirt.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://thedirtyshirt.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d8029999187183231155', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script> <script type='text/javascript' src='http://track3.mybloglog.com/js/jsserv.php?mblID=2008010808021427'></script> <script type="text/javascript"> var bt_counter_type=1; var bt_project_id=5746; </script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://tracker.icerocket.com/services/collector.js"></script>
I'm Very Chatty
Tuesday, March 31, 2009

+ I'm looking for a 1-bedroom/studio type apartment in the QC-Diliman area for around 5K. Help a homeless harlot out!

+ My short story "Hunters" is out in this week's Philippines Free Press. Yeehaw!

+ That is all.



posted by marguerite @ 7:59 AM

|

Untog
Friday, March 20, 2009


In my long-standing tradition to rehash piddling opinions about me, I would just like to announce that a tricycle ride and my mortality have, yet again, held hands pa-sway-sway pa. Kind of. Some people are convinced that I’m going to die in either a taxi or a tricycle and, considering that their opinions are based on my eerily consistent ability to be physically injured/verbally molested by drivers of said vehicles, I’m sure as hell convinced of that, too. Last night added a new dimension to my fatal affair with The Commute. Kind of.

I hit my head fucking hard on a trike’s ceiling (?) yesterday. Was on my way to EDSA Central when the driver decided to take a speed bump on like a motocross moron. Just made the trike fly in the air ‘cause it’s like, you know, astig. Because I do not normally ride tricycles with 50-pound bags of grain tied to my ankles, my head slammed against the trike’s ceiling (?) so hard, I felt an intense rush of blood to the head not unlike the one you get when you fall down a flight of stairs. There was a bit of smarting and wooziness for a while, but it died down after a few minutes. No bumps, no bleeding.

So what’s the deal? Why have I suddenly resurrected my blogging habit after a month of happy silence to do some long-winded narrative on an untog? And why can’t I just get straight to the point in any of my entries instead of paving my hell-bound road with adjectives?

The latter, I don’t want to answer ‘cause it’s like, you know, astig. As for the former, well, ever since Natasha Richardson’s freakish untog of a death, I would like to think that I have every right to be paranoid. It’s been almost 24 hours since the big, bad bump, though, and my normal bodily functions have yet to be hindered by any mouth-frothing or speaking in tongues. In fact, seconds after the bump, I started asking myself standard me-specific questions such as Quick! Where are you headed tonight? and Quick! What’s your password to the company e-mail? and Quick! Remember that thwarted Chuck Bass sex dream a few nights ago? Where did you almost do it?, and I think I answered them quickly and accurately enough. And I have been able to get my ass to the office all the same today. It’s just that I still think there’s the eensy weensy chance that medics will find me face down in my plate of Mexican later tonight.

Let’s just hope for the best. Or, fine, at least I will. But just in case I do conk out for real, it was Trike # 43, part of the fleet of lime green trikes allowed to bring Kapitolyans to EDSA Central, and it happened yesterday, March 19, at around 5:10 in the afternoon. And the driver? Well, I never really got a good look at him. I don’t have time to look people in the eye when I’m busy formulating links between myself and sufficiently successful dead actresses as blog content. Timely blog content. I should get a medal.



posted by marguerite @ 12:43 PM

|

the girl


Marguerite.
23.
Pasig City, PH.

Damned the man, saved the empire.

Email.

speak



sound


happy trigger

www.flickr.com
This is a Flickr badge showing public photos from the_urgency. Make your own badge here.

exits


detour

tunay na lalake
happy mondays
biskochong halimaw
panitikan
fuggers
q magazine
gorillamask

lookit: vistaprint

Make your own rubber stamps with images uploaded from your computer!

droogies


mine!


Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Free Blog Counter


bygones

April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
May 2009