Man-Blog

When I was a boy of around 5, I was riding my bike down Regalado Avenue one sunny June morning. Exhausted after five hours of straight biking, I pulled over to the side of the road, lit a cigarette & took a breather. I was busy throwing soda cans at passing cars when all of a sudden, a white car with five heavily armed men drove by and opened fire on me with semi automatics.

Eleven bullets pierced my body, two of which struck major organs and another ruptured my spinal cord. Miraculously, I survived but not without permanent damage. I am now a quadriplegic and am confined to a wheelchair. I blog using a special speech to text program and have committed myself to preaching the word of God to the lost tribes of Africa.

Adam Mordo used to suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder and a severe messianic complex. He is much better now. The only remnant of his fractured psyche is his penchant for speaking about himself in the third person. Adam Mordo also suffers from wanderlust, an affliction he happens to be quite thankful for. He is most at home on the beach where he passes the time taking photos and hunting for camel toes.

J. Angelo Racoma is the Man Blog's all-around good guy. The editors initially thought he was too wholesome for the site, but as with all the Man Blog editors, writers, and contributors, he has Scizophrenic tendencies which he displays every so often, usually with disastrous results. The last time he sneezed, he unleashed what was more popularly known as the tsunami that terrorized the inhabitants of the Indian Ocean's shores.

FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!

All your secrets come across the liquid mirage of your face. It comes across, it conveys to the other like a flashing advertising banner of the unconscious. My cigarettes, my late nights spent writing, listening to music, watching movies and masturbating, photographing...it shows on my face. Seduction, it sets off something in you by remote.

I hung from a tree by the ankle for centuries and eons of twilight unfed and thirsty. I looked down and saw symbols of mysticism and enchantment. I took them and called them runes. All of them. It was after the gathering that I fell from the tree into the dark abyss. Tumbling and flailing. Waiting for the hard ground to break my fall. Seven months ago, it came. The ground, I mean. I now walk the worlds, sometimes stopping by to eat squid balls or chichacorn while reading soft porn in tabloids. I can also make my fart do tap dances while it juggles a holographic simulation of man’s collective booger when I’m bored. Where am I now, anyway? Anyone got a map?

Emerson used to be a programmer and all-around nice guy. Seduced by the dark side of the force, he now studies law. Once he finishes his training and passes the bar, he shall unleash a wave of death and suffering such as the galaxy has never seen. That, and legislation banning spam. Will take up photography real soon now. Enjoys reading, blogging, and sizzling panda.

Señor Coco's gaunt, frail, and looks-like-it's-decaying body may imply that he poses a nuisance to the Fellowship. But fret not --- for his superior intelligence, his masterful bartering abilities, and his overwhelming and supreme magical powers prove to be of substantial benefit to the company's cause. Not only that, it is a known fact that 9/10 ladies agree that Señor Coco is indeed one good-looking and strapping young chap. The other 10% are either mentally retarded, or what the general populace refer to as "Chicks. With dicks."

As a child, Squid Villanueva had been found nursing on the teats of rabid wolves in the mountains of Nepal. He was adopted by an Amish couple and spent most of his childhood in a wooden box where his favorite toy was a rat’s skull. As a teenager he became a disciple of the black magician Aleister Crowley and, in exchange for his left testicle, was given the ability to change the color of his urine at will. As a young man he fought alongside various freedom fighters in the jungles of the Congo. His body is a now a hideous map of battle scars. Squid Villanueva smokes scorpion tails.

The Planet Krypton was doomed. Just before its destruction, a scientist placed his only son in a small rocket and sent him to safety. He was NOT that child. While Steel’s occasionally-effeminate behavior and sporadic seizure attacks sometimes frightened the shit out of his fellow editors, this mild-mannered monkey was able to prove his worth mainly by writing pointless articles and changing motherboards while blindfolded. Oh, and because of his titanium alloy nuts. Steel is the only surviving heir of the Ventus clan.

Once I was a lost soul, aimlessly wandering the filthy and dangerous streets of Manila. However, an old crone gave me a magic amulet that immediately transported me to a dark and mysterious place where I fought the Dark Lord Voldemort alongside a ninja, a pirate and a giant gecko. After winning that Great War, I returned to Manila to reclaim my rightful throne. I got bored of ruling Manila's underground beggar syndicate and left to start my own blog. I am currently reading "The Little Prince". I like chicharon.

Behold! The Prophecy of Baddie! It was written that Baddie shall be trained in the mystical arts and the lost form of Kung Fu known as Baddie Fu. Baddie shall use these deadly skills to kill and maim all those who oppose his will. It was written that Baddie shall lose battles, but he... shall win... the WAR! The victory shall be followed by an inane monologue about how awesome his victory is, and a maniacal laughter that shall bring terror to the hearts of all his surviving foes. It was written that Baddie shall bring forth a new world order, in which he shall be the absolute ruler. He shall have 9 hot wives in each of the continents, which shall then be called Baddienents. It was written that Baddie shall organize orgies involving said wives, to which he shall be a spectator, drinking his beer and devouring his slices of pizza. It was written (in bold italicized) that Baddie shall speak in the third person, no matter how stupid it may sound. So it was written, and so it shall come to pass! Fo' shizzle.

I'll never know what brought me here—as if somebody led my hand. It seems I hardly had to steer; my course was planned. And destiny it guides us all. And by its hand we rise and fall, but only for a moment—time enough to catch our breath again. And we're just another piece of the puzzle, just another part of the plan. How one life touches the other is so hard to understand. Still we walk this road together. We travel through as far as we can. And we have waited for this moment in time—ever since the world began.

Bim, the semi socially-adjusted nerd! The only thing I find more thrilling than a game of Dungeons and Dragons is watching porn all night long, all by myself, every night for the rest of my life! It's specatular! On weekends, me and my action figures recreate Marvel's Secret Wars on my mother's bed. On those really special occasions, I even introduce my Daredevil figure to my sister's Barbie doll, and watch them as their love blossoms. It is magnificent! Don't tell anybody, but I sometimes take that Barbie doll and make out with her! I respect her so I keep her clothes on, but I can't help but get a little frisky. I hope my wife from World of Warcraft never finds out.