IT’S THE week before Christmas, and I’m still in Great Britain.
This is a series of advance articles because, well, I really don’t know how the month will pan out.
My first week in Whiston, it had been raining.
I couldn’t even go out running.
I mean, that was supposed to be my December project: get back to running.
So there’s that.
***
Regarding my sex life, well, I’ve checked out Grindr.
After some short chats, I’ve met a few men in public places—Henley Park, some cafes, some pubs, and even in the parking lot of Whiston Hospital.
Some I kissed, some I didn’t.
Racist realization: I really like kissing blondes, and redheads.
***
I couldn’t really host (the British term is “accom”, for accommodate) since I’m just visiting my sister’s family.
And I don’t want to be accused of bringing Covid, and strangers, inside the house.
But I just have to say this: At 52, I’m still very popular among the Brits.
Maybe it’s because I am young-looking.
But I think it is mainly because I am fresh meat in the area.
***
I decided not to rent a car.
No. 1: I don’t like driving.
No. 2: I’m not sure about right hand driving.
No. 3: The streets are narrower here (and crazy!).
No. 4: I am on limited internet data, and I’d rather not spend it on Google maps.
No car, limited hookups.
But I kind of like that.
I really don’t want to be a slut.
***
Last week, I got into a virtual fight with a “friend.”
I don’t need this person in my life.
I don’t owe him anything.
He was just someone I knew back in college.
If at all, our relationship is/was more competitive.
He thinks he’s prettier than I.
But everybody else thinks I’m smarter, more talented, kinder, and, well, prettier.
***
Why do I even bother with this loser, our mutual friends ask.
Well, it’s for the same reason why I attend to all the poor, and miserable people in the world: Kindness.
I want to be kind.
I want to be there for the poor and miserable.
I want them to feel that they’re not total losers.
That I care about them.
***
Apparently, this loser follows me on Facebook.
And apparently, he’s not sold to my Pink campaign.
And you know how it is with me on social media.
***
Some of #ThePSN jewels on Facebook:
“My doctor-friends are for Leni.
My lawyer-friends, teacher-friends, artist-friends, nurse-friends are for Leni.
My stupid friends are stupid, and are for stupidity!”
***
“Nakakaawa ang stupids.
Walang pang-unawa.
Puro feeling sila ang tama.
But feeling is not equal to Truth, moral right, or intelligence.”
***
“Sorry to add this:
My good-looking and well-bred friends are for Leni.
My stupid and dugyot-looking friends are still stupid, and are for stupidity.”
***
“Lahat, may ‘feeling’.
Lahat, may opinion, may choice, may ‘right’ to be wrong.
Pero hindi lahat, may talino sa pagpili.
May mga bobo talaga!”
***
My posts are popular.
People react, and comment on them.
They have been shared, and reposted.
Of course, I encourage reposting and spreading my posts.
I also reply to comments.
More encouraging replies for Kakampinks.
And subtle insults to those who dare contradict me.
Because why not?
***
So, why even contradict me if you don’t have half of my kindness, talent, intelligence, and, I dare say, beauty?
What right have you to engage me other than your delusion that you matter in my universe?
In the face of Facebook renaming, in my Metaverse?
You want to see if my bobo-shaming works as a political campaign?
You got to continue reading this on Wednesday! (To be continued as “That ‘friend”)/PN
