Saturday, April 27, 2013

Unwisely Being Entangled in Office Communications that are, Well, not Purely Work-Related

There are (if you ask some people, outrageously ridiculous-sounding) researches that show a resounding statistics of 65-70% of people having some sort of relationships in their office that is at least somewhat beyond the confines of professional work-related exchanges.  But then again, if one spends majority of the day for 5-6 days a week for nearly every single week with the same group of people, it is almost inevitable that some form of amorous feelings develop over time.  As humans, most are not immune.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Inter-Community Suspicions and Occurrence of Disasters

At the bus terminal in downtown Olongapo City around 4pm, there was a massive line snaking out its front door and spilling onto the side streets.  The line was for purchasing bus tickets to Manila.  Dejected by the prospects of late arrival back home, the author nonetheless joined the end of the slow-moving line, hoping that his turn at the ticket window will come as quickly as possible.  Rules, when they do seem to exist, should be followed.  And with dozens of others anxiously inching forward in the still-hot afternoon sun, there was no reason the author should not.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Six More Months in Manila: a Time for Resolutions

This blog is big on personal resolutions, most of which, after even the most fleeting reviews of which shows that most never even come close to being fulfilled...or the efforts of working toward fulfilling them even being shown.  Instead of choosing to work toward something, the author instead focuses on grabbing whatever interesting that comes his way, hopping from one country to the other, one job to the other, one experience to the other, without seriously thinking of the consequences involved, or where such adventures will take the author next.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Putting a Price on the Bottomline of Human Morality in Manila's Sexual Entertainment Quarter

The entertainment strip of the town is always packed with people and lights.  Perhaps not crowded with visitors but always full of guys and gals of the nights peddling condoms, massages, and themselves.  Every joint has decorated heavy metal doors under their shiny neon lights advertising the best experiences and girls in the strip.  And it is into those heavy metal doors that the author, along with his friends, casually strolled in, full of smiles and expectations that a whole new world was behind the premise guarded by a perpetually serious security guard/bouncer.