Artificial Intelligence

If I hear one more person giving some sermon on the US stock market bailout issue, I'm going to have to punch someone. Know-it-all idiots, if you ask me.

The events in the stock markets, here and abroad, the past couple of weeks have prompted much talk among everyone. The Wall Street meltdown that was instigated by the filing for Bankruptcy of Lehman Brothers, Inc. has been all over the papers, net and TV. Of course, just as any scandal would, news has made its way through the grapevine as well. Everyone is talking. The economists. The financial analysts. The stock brokers. The investors. The business people. The business-intelligent. And, of course, also the artificially-business-intelligent.

I say artificial because it is feigned.

This stock market controversy is chiefly the type of thing where people who thrive in "intellectual" conversations brandish their knowledge of the facts and what-nots. And I say thrive because these people simply use the opportunity to make themselves appear smart.

It could be a defense mechanism. It could also be part of one's inferiority complex. Whatever it is, one thing's for sure. I hate it. Ikaw? Intelligent? PWEH.

One problem though with artificial intelligence is it is hardly detectible, if at all. One can go about fooling everyone with feigned intelligence and do so successfully. All of us could pay our precious attention to someone making a Lehman Brothers controversy sermon and have ourselves effectively drawn to the seemingly highly-knowledgeable person talking in front of us. We may be impressed by the seeming authenticity of his competencies, all the while not knowing that all we have in front of us is bootlegged.

Is it not scary knowing that there is artificial intelligence and we might have been and could still be fooled by the idiots who make use of it? More than anything else, is it not insulting?

It is. And today is the day that I do something about it. I hate artificial intelligence and I refuse to be perpetually bound in its foolishness. Ihinto ang pagpapanggap. Tigilan na ang pagbabalatkayo.

How would you know if one is just feigning intelligence?

Here's how.

#1 In Writing – Check for Shift+F7 words

When you get an email or read a blog post, try to count the highfalutin words that appear in the composition. Take note also if there are Latin maxims. If the amount of the non-layman jargon seems too good to be true, it probably is.

I used to hate it when I encountered yearbook write-ups with words like penchant, façade, enigma, etc. I wanted to strike all of those overrated terms and dress the write-up down. "Masyado naman nag-enjoy sa Shift+F7 sa MS Word!" I thought.
It's not just freakishly uncommon gobbledygook. There were also idioms and proverbs. I even caught one using the very pedestrian idiom "Still waters run deep". "Still" you say, hija? STILL? If they are "still", then why are they running? Demnit. I could not bring myself to believe that these terms are used by teenagers in their everyday conversations. A write-up is supposed to be descriptive of the person. It should be candid and realistic, not a vocabulary-building exercise.

There was also this one email that I received from a client a month ago. It read…

xxxxxxxxxx.xxxxxx@xxxxxx.com wrote on 08/12/2008 02:56:04 PM:

> Hi Tin!
>
>

>Good day!
>Sorry for the late reply, just got back from the Finance's lunch
>out. I totally agree with you in the sense that the entries-in-
>question are in fact manually prepared...blah blah blah... But
>is the control really ineffective, ceteris paribus, and that only
>these "clearing account entries" are not reviewed and approved? Talk about practicality . blah blah blah

>Thanks a lot Tin and I'm still counting on your immediate response...

>Regards,
>xxxxx

I read the email and could not comprehend the purpose of using "ceteris paribus". Was it a ploy to intimidate me with foreign language maxims? Well, I was neither intimidated nor impressed. I was not going to be fooled. I knew pretty well that this guy would not have used this term had we corresponded personally. I was actually tempted to email back something like: genus nunquam perit res perit domino ratio legis est anima ut magis valeat quam pereat ora et labora ad maoriem dei gloriam. I wouldn't have had made sense, yes, but maybe I would've feigned an increase in a few IQ points.

#2 While speaking – See if it's scripted

If you're in a seminar or in a simple conversation, familiarize yourself with the person you are talking to. Notice how much time he spends in making unwarranted sermons on current events and issues, in highly technical English. Observe how he articulates himself. Listen intently then ask yourselves these questions:

Is he an actual authority on the topic he his rambling on about?

Do his expressions sound natural and effortless?
Do his statements make sense?
Barok ba siya?
Is English second-nature to him?

If "no" is the only response you have for your own questions, then honey, the person in front of you has artificial intelligence. It is not beyond comprehension that that idiot read a book on his topic of choice and memorized a few lines from it. Maybe, just maybe, he even threw in a few actions that would make him seem ultra confident.

You don't believe me? Here. Memorize this:

A derivative is a financial contract whose value depends on the performance of a foreign exchange rate, a commodity price, an interest rate, the price of another financial instrument or other financial variables.

Now, when asked of what a derivative is, retrieve the script from your brain. Then, while reciting your lines, make hand gestures as if you're making some important point with every other statement you utter. Ha. If you pull this off, do you not think you'll be a hoot?

I once had a trainer in an audit seminar. I heard endless monologues of technicalities (just like the definition of a derivative as stated above) and expressions like, "Well, I don't know for the life of me" and I kept on thinking, "Really? You use that expression? You—a man who can't articulate even a simple sentence in full English." Isn't that nice. Straight from the business book he just read, if you ask me. Or is it Dilbert? Either way, he seemed so lame and I was so pissed off. Hindi kasi bagay eh. It was so unnatural.

#3 As regards the subject matter – Make sure it's not just a product of 5 minutes in Google and Yahoo! Answers

When the guy starts blabbing on about Lehman and other business shit, don't be impressed just yet. Artificially intelligent people tend to superficially study the topic just so they could talk as if they know the entire thing. Ask really inquisitive questions. If they either get unreasonably ticked off or act as if you've asked the dumbest question ever or just fumble for answers before your eyes, aah…there's an idiot in your presence.

Buddha said:

Again, it may be understood by a person's conversation whether or not he is competent at discussing things. If, on being questioned, a person is evasive, changes the subject, displays anger, malice or sulkiness, then he is incompetent to discuss things. If a person does not do these things, then he is competent at discussion.

Yet again, it may be understood by a person's conversation whether or not he is capable of constructive discussion. If, on being asked a question a person loads scorn on and beats down the questioner, laughs at him and tries to catch him out when he falters, then he is incapable of discussing things. If a person does none of these, then he is capable.

Buddha certainly knew what he was talking about.

I really hate people, and trust me when I say I've met more than a handful of people like this, who frantically research on something just so the next day, they could pass off their overnight knowledge as stock knowledge.

Having immense knowledge of something is particularly impressive if acquiring such was effortless for you. Knowing that you're bragging of your knowledge about the NYSE and the US' largest bailout you just got from a 30-minute run in Yahoo! Answers is a DEAL BREAKER to me. Don't get me wrong though. There's nothing wrong with researching (or using Yahoo! Answers). Just don't act as if knowing such details is second nature to you. Don't act like the guru which you are most obviously not.

Funny thing is these creatures who feign intelligence, as Buddha said, get mad when they're asked questions. How could we blame them, really? They have squat of an idea what they got themselves into. It's but natural for them to act defensive and get mad.

See this post from the blog "Things We Love to Hate".

Argh. If you have no idea how to answer a question, just say so and if, by some miracle, you do admit not knowing, don't act as if it was a dumb question to begin with. Stop shitting us. Don't pretend like you actually know. You're making it difficult for us not to believe that you're making an ass of yourself. We know more about life in outer space than you know anything about Lehman. Yeah, you're that stupid.

Now that y'all know how to spot these fakers, let's all unite and take our time hating them. Let's have our pistols ready and fire at them for every bit of bullshit they utter.

For those of you who want to feign knowledge on Lehman, see Yahoo! Answers. If you do decide to brandish your artificial intelligence, better get out of my way. If I don't catch you off guard with my probing business and finance questions, I'd just stab you just because you're an ass, because I'm sure that, just like all the fakers out there, you'll look like an ass as well…crack, fuzz, [bull]shit, and all.

BAYANI FERNANDO FOR PRESIDENT MAY 2010

Yeah, right. Is that some seriously disturbed prank?

Oh shit. Are you freaking kidding me? No, effin way.

It has been months since the first time I saw his poster along EDSA. Some could say that a post about it is a bit obsolete. But, really, no one could deny the effect of that poster to many citizens out there. To this day, almost seven months after the first tarpaulin was put up, it remains an eyesore to most, especially to me.

It has been plastered everywhere. Well, at least on his pink-and-blue-coated structures that are, unfortunately, all over Metro Manila. Every freaking day, as I go to the office, I see that ugliness at least ten times in one morning. It is but logical for me to feel so irate in the morning taking that I involuntarily bask in this repulsiveness ten times too many. I have never been a morning person. This poster gives me one more reason to hate waking up in the morning. Or abhor going to the office altogether.

There have been rumors that these ugly posters have an ulterior motive, a political one, at that. And now that it is seemingly out in the open, this Bayani-Fernando-for-President shit…is just that—shit.

So, hey, BF [insert sarcasm], I want to tell you something:

I DON’T WANT YOU TO RUN FOR PRESIDENT. If you do, I would not waste my time to even read whatever crap you put in that platform of yours, let alone vote for you.

What you’ve done to the “development” of Metropolitan Manila is a JOKE. I think your candidacy will also be nothing more than that.


WHY PINK?



I can’t bring myself to understand why the city I grew up in and I have come to love is now infested with your fugly pink structures. Of all colors, sir, pink is the shade you so bravely chose. You say that it IS actually the international traffic standard to color similar structures pink. So wait, are there pink traffic posts in Malaysia? Pink urinals in Thailand? Pink pedestrian walks in Indonesia? What’s that? There are none? Hah, international standard my behind. With that kind of reasoning, sir, I’m constantly in fear that if you do get your chance to head up for Malacañang, you’d repaint it pink as well.


CONCRETE BARRIERS are causing casualties here and there. Instead of addressing the issue, of adding reflectorized warning signs or of phasing these hazards out completely, you, dear sir, again, reason out that it should be the motorists who should straighten up. That if it were not for these irresponsible motorists, not one vehicle would crash into your infamous concrete barriers, say the ones near Crame, night after night (after night).



Taxi crashes into Concrete Barrier
notice that in the accident, the barriers, contrary to the statement of the good MMDA chief, were not properly made visible with reflectors and lights.

See statistics of accidents involving MMDA Concrete Barriers



So, BF, are you saying that these motorists brought it upon themselves? That all those accidents were caused by the motorist throwing himself in YOUR GOOD OFFICE’s concrete barriers? I don’t think so.


YOUR URINALS STINK. And frankly, it won’t surprise me if you do, too. I don’t know what came to your mind in putting those eyesores all around the metro. Not only eyesores, man, because they freaking reek! Shet. Ang baho. Promise. I guess you had the best of intentions, but, come on. One, they’re pink. And two, guys piss in it and the piss has nowhere to go! The piss spills over to the sidewalk most of the time. Eeeeew. My god, what kind of health principles did you learn in school?




the picture's a bit unclear, but I think you could see the piss here flowing onto the sidewalk.


YOUR BAD BOY-LOOK POSTER MAKES ME WANT TO BARF. Okay, so let’s see that again.




Watch TV report on BF's Poster
Metro GWAPO? Ah, yes. Talk about IRONY. Nakakasuka. To be honest, sir, in the beginning of your, I don’t know, CAREER[?], I must admit that I did like you. You had all these projects in all sorts of places, but never did I see your face plastered on any of them, salivating to be recognized by the people. I guess I preempted you, sir. Because, as I’ve said, when you put up your posters, you sent shivers up my spine. Kadiri, eh.

GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR SINGING CAREER. Wow. I heard that you are one of the aspiring celebrity contestants in GMA NETWORK’s Celebrity Duets. I think your 2010 candidacy preparations are going a little overboard. Bordering pathetic, even. Good job in making your image one step more similar to that of Lito Lapid, Ramon Revilla, Bong Revilla, and ERAP. I’ve had enough of entertainers-turned-politicians. What makes you think I’d feel differently with politicians-turned-entertainers?

Watch BF's duet with Renz Verano in an episode of Celebrity Duets

See why BF joined contest

DO THESE JOKES OF YOURS FORM PART OF YOUR CONCEPT OF DEVELOPMENT?

If it does, then, yes. You are a joke as well. This country has had its fair share of humor. Actually, I think it has had enough. Take my advice and don’t run for president. Better reflect first. So, when you decide to take a leak in one of your magnificent pink urinals, aim for bull’s-eye, gaze up the open sky, TAKE A DEEP BREATH, don't break into song, and start serious introspection. Please.

For a Change

The Buddha once said,

Those who quarrel do not realize
That one day we must all die
Those who do realize this
Find little to quarrel about

I feel affiliation to this particular saying not because I adhere to it, but because I seemingly am the total opposite, especially here.

I make it just like a clingy, high-maintenance girlfriend. I blog just to rant and complain.

But now, there is one reason not to. This is a RAVE for a change.

Presenting my vote for the 2008 Philippine Blog Awards Bloggers’ Choice Award:

An excerpt of my favorite post entitled Who would’ve thought?:

Because my brother’s my brother, and he’s sweet like that, he introduced his girlfriend to me today. He’s always made it a point to introduce his girlfriend to me, and he’s had two. [Some have all the luck. Haha.]

After two minutes of small talk, I had to leave for a friend emergency, and I asked him [through SMS] if they were going to be alright. He replied with:

“Okay lang kami. Love u. Ingat ka.” [emphasis supplied]

How SWEET is that?

Haha. I guess it’s because I was nice to his girlfriend. Haha. Not that I’m usually not. :)

I like it because, one, it’s honest and endearing and, two, on a personal note, I would not have been as nice if I were her. It’s just refreshing to know that there is much niceness out there to cancel someone like me out. (I’m a bitch and I’m sweet like that. Hahahaha!)

I also love how Myuzeeshun uses words and phrases like:

Srsly?

Luma-laughtrip lang.

WHAPAK!

And many of her funny posts like Well, ain’t that sad - dated May 22, 2008.

It’s so candid and witty. Well-written. The layout of the page is easy on the eyes, too. It’s all of that and I so love it. Seriously.

Give just curious a click, why don’t you? You’ll get what I’ve been saying.

If you must vote, cast it for just curious, howkee?

You might ask, “Eh sino ka ba para utusan akong bumoto?” [or if coño ka “Eh, who the crap are you to tell me to freaking make boto?”]

And I just MIGHT say, “Ako? Sino ako? WALA LANG. Feel ko lang, bakit? Eh sa gusto lang naman kitang magkaroon ng chance manalo ng Nokia N82, eh! Concerned lang ako for you. Tsaka…boboto ka na rin lang might as well cast it for a blog that deserves it…”

‘Yun naman.

It just occurred to me that I’m ENJOYING raving. Quite a bit. But something tells me this streak of good karma points might end soon. I’m feeling a bit out of my element here. I should get back to the outskirts of the middle path. Hehehe.

Douchebags in Shemaghs

I watched this feature in Kapuso Mo, Jessica Soho last week. I was a bit surprised to see that the segment was devoted solely to feature a fashion trend that’s currently sweeping the nation. And by “sweeping”, I mean it like its literal but secretly hope that it is not true.

But it is and I don’t like it. As expected.

The feature was on shemaghs. Shemaghs (or keffiyeh) have been the must-have accessories here in Manila. They are, most of the time, the checkered scarves you typically see on teenagers, mostly college students, hanging around their necks like it’s an elaborate necklace of sorts.

Shiver. The mere mention of people who wear shemaghs makes me cringe.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I’ve seen these shemaghs on other people before. I’ve seen it on Yasser Arafat. I’ve seen it on Osama Bin Laden. I’ve seen on different field reporters making a live broadcast from Iraq and Mindanao as well. I must admit that the fact that these personalities sported these shemaghs did not at all bother me. Well, that was true up until it became a senseless fad and started to catch on with herds of brainless fashion-victimized sheep.

I do have three reasons why I don’t like shemaghs.

ONE. Mainit dito sa Pilipinas. What do you need a shemagh for? Porma? Style? Aba’y p*cha naman. Kahit tumatagaktak na ang pawis mo, basta pormado ka, okay lang? Again, p*cha naman.

*side note: Notice this guy’s physique. Come on, now. I mean, he doesn’t need a shemagh to keep himself warm, right? His own body is going to do wonders already.

TWO. I’m going to bet my life that not half of those idiots who sport shemaghs actually know what a shemagh stands for. It’s cultural people. It means something, I tell you. I suggest you find out about it before deciding to go out with a shemagh on. I even stumbled upon an article and a blog saying that there have been Muslims who have expressed their discontent in the keffiyeh becoming a trend. It’s like having dreadlocks without knowing that it’s a spiritual statement rather than a fashion choice. It’s like getting a bindi on and missing the little known fact that it marks fertility rather than forms part of your make-up. It’s like wearing a Che Guevara shirt and being totally oblivious of who Che Guevara is.

*side note: Notice what these under-aged girls are purchasing. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that those are a bubble gum lambanog, two Tanduay Rhum lapads, and a gin or vodka bottle. Getting wasted much? Ugh. It’s so juvenile, I wan’t to stab a pencil into my eye.

THREE. Ayaw ko lang talaga. Ang EPAL ng itsura, eh. Wala lang. I just don’t feel like appreciating it on a Pinoy juvenile. I see them and I just think, “Pwede ba? Tigilan niyo nga ako! Douchebag ka, p’re, douchebag!”

*side note: Green shirt. Green “shades” (they’re on his head, btw). A shemagh to boot. Does this not look epal to your or what?

*side note: Notice the bangketa bracelet here. I really don’t get it. A checkered shemagh on a striped shirt? I thought you people are trying look good with your porma?

Ugh. Douchebag fashion is just racking up nowadays, don’t you think? I’m so right, I want to smack the shit out of me. Well, you shemagh-lovers out there would want that, wouldn’t you?

I guess it’s going to be okay with me if you decide to shemagh-ize yourself. But please make sure that: (1) you’re in the desert or in some harsh winter conditions, (2) you know what it stands for, and (3) you’ll carry it well.

I’m sure it’s going to be an easy task for you to ignore my three tips. So, I guess I’ll just see you around. Let’s just hope and pray that I’m in some stable state when I see you lest I strangle you with that damn shemagh you have on.

Badge Not Honored

Never have I actually known the meaning of this phrase until just the other day. As I frequent public buses, signs bearing such a phrase meet me and my co-passengers each time we get on the bus. Of course I knew to whom it was addressed. I’m not stupid. It is just that, then, I never really understood the repercussions, ramifications if you will, of the reason why that sign is put up.

I knew that it was for policemen and they were not supposed to flash their badge to get a free ride. But, surprisingly for myself, I didn’t actually think that a policeman would do such a thing. Well, stupid xtin, you should’ve known better.

My brother once mentioned that if he had his own blog, he would fill it with posts about what he calls ang pinakamababang uri ng tao. And who might this low-life be? It is he who is going to be the topic of this post. He who could read the sign “Badge Not Honored”, but could not seem to fathom that it is to himself, the law-abiding officer that he is, that this insult of a sign is directed. Who else would this kind pertain to? Sino pa ba kung hindi ang ating mga nagpipitagang mga pulis [pangkalawakan?].

This sudden rage of mine absolutely did not come just out of nowhere. As a matter of fact, no less than a first-hand witness account is the basis of this string of ranting.

It was a rainy Monday evening. I was coming from Timog after having dinner with a blockmate. I had accompanied him to the area so that he could run this one errand. Mind you, this was after a hellish midterm exam that drained us of all of our known bodily energy. We were tired, drenched, though a bit full from our 99-peso steak dinner, waiting for a bus at the corner of Kamias Road and Edsa.

As it was not the most opportune time to find public transportation, a bus was even harder to come by. We waited for at least 20 minutes in the light-to-moderate rains. I was growing a bit impatient so I finally decided to just get on this ordinary fare bus bound for Sucat-Bicutan-Alabang. I had to go south that night, instead of my usual north route, as I had some “business” to attend to at home.

The bus stopped, as expected, at the Cubao-Farmers bus stop to get passengers. It didn’t take much time after the bus had temporarily stopped when at least ten men got on the bus. All of us who were in our seats were caught in a somewhat awkward but noticeable silence. Our stares were rude, yes, but cannot be said to have been uncalled for. The men were all in uniform. They were all policemen. They filled the backmost row, just behind where I sat, and the three-seater to my left.

Not that I was trying to be effectively nonchalant about it, but I really could not have cared less that they were there. In fact, I felt a bit safer that they were there. At least, I thought, there would be less unfortunate chances that the bus would be held-up. Good for us.

As the bus was traversing EDSA, though, I began to notice something. Some of the policemen were already fast asleep in their seats, with their heads bobbing around with the motion of the bus, but they hadn’t paid the fare yet. I knew for a fact that they hadn’t put out even a cent because if they already had, I would have noticed the bus conductor collecting their money and issuing them tickets.

I was so tempted to ask the conductor why he wasn’t collecting the fares from the policemen. But, also coming to mind was the fact that though it was the conductor who personally waived the fares of the men in uniform, these so-called men in uniform didn’t really do anything about it. Not one of them called the conductor’s attention and voluntarily paid the fare that was due of them. It was as if they have been accustomed to this kind of “VIP treatment” while in public transportation.

All of them alighted at Bicutan. Saving a good P30 each.

Still fumed and totally dismayed by the incident of the night before, I talked to the taxi driver I encountered on my way to Rockwell the next day. I asked manong driver if it was usual for policemen to get free rides even from humble cab drivers like himself. He disappointedly told me that although some policemen do pay the meter rates, few of them even giving tips, he has had encounters with men in uniform who so gallantly decided not to pay full fare or not to pay at all. I asked him why he acceded to such lousy deals and to that his reply was, “Kasi wala naman akong magagawa.” He said that if he dared assert his right to full payment of his fare, the policeman would most probably slap him with a criminal case he would pull right out of his top hat.

I felt sorry for manong driver. But like him, there was really nothing I could do about it.

There was nothing I could do but fret about it. So still armed with an aura of discontent and anger, I went about my day-to-day commuting activities with eyes wide open, just in case I could catch even just a glimpse the pinakamababang uri ng tao on the freeloading prowl again.

True enough, at the Buendia MRT station, as I was in line for the bag inspection, I noticed this policeman who liberally bypassed the long lines of people, awaiting to get on the platform. He didn’t use any magnetic card to get in the station. All he had to do was lift the latch of the gate intended for “authorized personnel” use, and boom, he was in. At first, I actually thought he was one of them “authorized personnel”. Maybe, I thought, he was going to be on duty in a few minutes to man the station or something.

However, when I got to the platform, lo and behold, he was also there waiting for the same train I was catching.

Wow. How low are the wages of policemen, really, for them to not be able to pay even just P14 of MRT fares? What? Do they get just P10? Hhowcamon.

This post is going to be the start of my hopefully endless rantings of disgust and annoyance of the pinakamababang uri ng tao. I will be on the lookout for the shady practices of these low-lives we call law enforcers. It will not be pretty.

For every cent that you didn’t pay for but oughta have… For every peso you extort… For every little thing you get but don’t actually deserve… I will be watching. Closely. Slap me with a criminal charge, why don't you, and I'll slap you with one as well.

No White Pants After Labor Day

Josie Geller: That'll teach me to wear white pants after labor day.

Gibby Zerefski: Nobody's worn white pants after 1983.

Indeed. There IS something wrong with anyone who chooses to wear white pants—ever.


I’m not talking about your generic, run-in-the-mill white pants. What pisses me off the most nowadays are white SKINNY jeans. Not just white skinny jeans…those white skinny jeans on MEN. MALES. BOYS. Those with the Y chromosome.

I mean, it’s bad enough one of the worst fashion choices from the NOTORIOUSLY FASHIONABLE ERA of the eighties, the skinny jeans—or just baston pants—have made a resurrection of sorts. The worse thing is that it has to be worn by men. The freaking fit of those jeans is hip-thigh-leg and not to mention CROTCH-hugging…Holy shit. How can a guy in his right mind find it in himself to wear something so—unflattering? And why of all colors, in God’s holy name, would they choose white? Can you be gayer than that?

Well, I WOULD understand, even if just a tad bit, if a GAY guy wears white shitty, er, skinny jeans (WSJs hereafter). To some extent, it WOULD fit the stereotype. And I must admit that there are rare occasions that they do carry WSJs well. But note the RARE in my statement. BryanBoy COULD get away with it. I'd find it so difficult to comprehend if someone else fashions it. So if someone who is not actually gay wears WSJs, I’d say he would be shitting me if he insists that he is straight. So please, stop shitting me.

It just looks so…so…STUPID. It doesn’t look good. REALLY. And people who wear these shitty WSJs almost always are one thing—a douchebag. Or a specie at least. Douchebags, as I have said before, wear things that they think would look nice on them just because it looks good on others. These men who wear white skinny jeans are, to my mind, just that.

Now, since they ARE douchebags, you’d see, apart from their WSJs, some other article of clothing that would complete the douchebag ensemble. Be it a gigster cap or collar-ups…look for it…it’s going to be there. And if you look more closely, you’d notice that for every additional piece of clothing, the person looks more idiotic. Well, they are, more often than not, idiots anyway. If the jeans, er, shoe fits, right?

Getting to that portion of my post where I share my paparazzied finds. Here are some reality captures of DOUCHEBAGS who are in their WSJs:

In Greenbelt 5
Ugh. Another Ayala Mall with more designer stores. We should blame these freaking malls for propagating a culture of shameless social climbers who frequent these designer stores in the hopes that one day, they would be able to buy even just a key chain at Balenciaga (if Balenciaga does sell keychains). To me, wearing WSJs in GB5 forces to see you in that light. Unflattering, ain’t it? Note the collar-ups.

These may be not too SKINNY for some people out there. But, for me, they are a stitch too tight.

In Trinoma
No surprise. This mall is filled, and I say FILLED, with fashion victimized douchebags. And look, the guy’s on a date…with another guy. Great. How sweet. Maybe the pair of WSJs really is working wonders.

In School
Crap. Nakakahiya. I mean, in school? So this guy really thinks that he looks decent? That he’d be brave enough to let other students see him that way? Eew. Talk about oblivious. And the hair man. I suggest that instead of wasting time, money (and your life) in buying those hideous WSJs, you should just visit the barbershop and do something about your hair. Have it relaxed. Shorten it. Chop your whole head off, I won’t care, really. Just get them out of my sight. It just occurred to me that these aren’t actually WHITE as they are obviously BLACK, but they ARE skinny jeans, nonetheless, on a MALE. Hideous. With ridiculous white sneakers. Damn.

Please lang mga tsong. I hate to break it to you, but you really have to know that you look so effin gay. And that’s only good if you really ARE gay. If you’re not, lose the WSJs. Strap on a pair—a better and more visually acceptable one. Please.

See Yahoo! Answers for the alleged source of the No White After Labor Day Rule