Every one of us, consciously or unconsciously, affects the
objects and people around us, including ourselves, on a continual basis. Think
about the expression 'laughter is contagious.' Well, sure it is! How do you feel when you
are around happy, laughing people? Usually, you cant help but feel good
yourself right?. All emotions are energy and energy passes from one body to another;
from one object to another; matter to matter. Laughter is contagious!
You clear your house of negative energies and replace them
with positive ones. Laugh once in a while. Promise. It'll help. :)
For my younger bro.. all the love!
homeless peeps > starbucks customers a physiology classmate invited me to study with her for our big test at the tenth.
"...aryt, where do you want to? wanna crash at my place? it's 15 tops through andrew bell"
"nada. too far bloke. i think it'll be better chillin' out at starbucks." "...WTH? who the fuck reviews at starbucks?"
"hell jesma, errbody does."
And so it goes. I'm not really a coffee person and I detest starbucks for their overpriced beverages, plus I really don't see the point of 'hanging out' at that place. Anyway, for lack of something better to do while waiting in line at 'bucks, I started looking around at the crowd. (It was either that or really thinking about the ridiculous amount of money I was about to fork up for a small cup of bean juice and milk worth about 2 pounds outside.)
This particular Starbucks is in a university town, a 5 minute walk from my school, and I was amazed by the sheer quantity of grungy, unshowered guys and girls who had laptop computers open and stacks of papers spread out on the tables next to them. One guy was sleeping. Another chick was camped out on the couch by the fireplace and I swear to god she had slippers and a blanket. I am not kidding. I couldn't help but wonder whose job it was to tuck her in at night.
It seems the unwritten Starbucks rule is that as long as you have a Starbucks cup somewhere in your general vicinity you are free to take up couch and table space and use their electrical power as long as you'd like to -- an offer which many people obviously prey them up on.
It was at that point I realized something: The only difference between being homeless and being a Starbucks customer is a laptop and a paper cup.
Here's an example: Say you're a rebellious kid, a band guitarist, who want to be independent from your parents. If that's not the definition of homeless I don't know what is. The first thing you should do is buy a laptop. Then hit the garbage can outside your local Starbucks and grab an empty cup. After that, you're on easy street. Walk in, sit down, open the laptop, put your feet up and bask in the coffee-scented goodness that is your new living room.
Seriously, could this scheme be more perfect?
Youre a musician, so obviously you work nights. Normally youre leaving for the club around nine or ten at night and coming home around six in the morning, so you leave before they close, and you're back when they open.
Added bonus -- you can start a blog to tell all your fans how old-fashioned your parents are, and how they don't understand what rock and roll is all about and that you didnt know they were even coming to your gig and you were only autographing that chick's naked, tanned, perfect ass because you're a consummate professional and seriously, the reason your pants were down is simply because it was really hot in the dressing room and after a great show like that you always like to give it a little air, so kicking you out of their house was totally uncalled for and if you think about it, they should actually be apologizing to you, and also Mike Portnoy is the best fucking drummer ever.
disclaimer
Spelling error and poor grammar in this blog are the product of a poor school system.
This blog is intended for the use of the individual
user named above and may contain information that is
confidential, privileged or unsuitable for overly sensitive
persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humour or irrational
religious beliefs. My opinions are neither copyrighted nor trademarked,
and it's price competitive. If you like, I'll trade for one of yours.
None of the ideas expressed in this blog are actually mine, they are told to me
by Luthor and Ferdinand, the five inch tall space aliens who live under my
desk. In return for these ideas, I have given them permission to eat any dust
bunnies they may find under there. The rants written herein do not conform to
my views or to any accepted standard of logic that the Greeks thought up.
Unless the word 'absquatulation' has been used in its correct context somewhere
other than in this warning, it does not have any legal or grammatical use
and may be ignored. No animals were harmed in the transmission of this blog,
although the golden retriever next door is living on borrowed time. Those of
you with an overwhelming fear of the unknown will be gratified to learn that
there is no hidden message revealed by reading this warning backwards,
so just ignore that Alert Notice from the conscience behind your head. If
you have come to this blog in error, please add some nutmeg and egg whites
and place it in a warm oven for 40 minutes. Whisk briefly and let it stand
for 2 hours before icing.
Have fun! :)
all the love,
jesma
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
homeless peeps > starbucks customers a physiology classmate invited me to study with her for our big test at the tenth.
"...aryt, where do you want to? wanna crash at my place? it's 15 tops through andrew bell"
"nada. too far bloke. i think it'll be better chillin' out at starbucks." "...WTH? who the fuck reviews at starbucks?"
"hell jesma, errbody does."
And so it goes. I'm not really a coffee person and I detest starbucks for their overpriced beverages, plus I really don't see the point of 'hanging out' at that place. Anyway, for lack of something better to do while waiting in line at 'bucks, I started looking around at the crowd. (It was either that or really thinking about the ridiculous amount of money I was about to fork up for a small cup of bean juice and milk worth about 2 pounds outside.)
This particular Starbucks is in a university town, a 5 minute walk from my school, and I was amazed by the sheer quantity of grungy, unshowered guys and girls who had laptop computers open and stacks of papers spread out on the tables next to them. One guy was sleeping. Another chick was camped out on the couch by the fireplace and I swear to god she had slippers and a blanket. I am not kidding. I couldn't help but wonder whose job it was to tuck her in at night.
It seems the unwritten Starbucks rule is that as long as you have a Starbucks cup somewhere in your general vicinity you are free to take up couch and table space and use their electrical power as long as you'd like to -- an offer which many people obviously prey them up on.
It was at that point I realized something: The only difference between being homeless and being a Starbucks customer is a laptop and a paper cup.
Here's an example: Say you're a rebellious kid, a band guitarist, who want to be independent from your parents. If that's not the definition of homeless I don't know what is. The first thing you should do is buy a laptop. Then hit the garbage can outside your local Starbucks and grab an empty cup. After that, you're on easy street. Walk in, sit down, open the laptop, put your feet up and bask in the coffee-scented goodness that is your new living room.
Seriously, could this scheme be more perfect?
Youre a musician, so obviously you work nights. Normally youre leaving for the club around nine or ten at night and coming home around six in the morning, so you leave before they close, and you're back when they open.
Added bonus -- you can start a blog to tell all your fans how old-fashioned your parents are, and how they don't understand what rock and roll is all about and that you didnt know they were even coming to your gig and you were only autographing that chick's naked, tanned, perfect ass because you're a consummate professional and seriously, the reason your pants were down is simply because it was really hot in the dressing room and after a great show like that you always like to give it a little air, so kicking you out of their house was totally uncalled for and if you think about it, they should actually be apologizing to you, and also Mike Portnoy is the best fucking drummer ever.
c
"Not by wrath does one kill, but by laughter"
-Friedrich Nietzche
it has been crazy five years full of cracky, non-sense and whimsical humor blogging.
what started out as a "for-profit" racket of a graduating elementary student (which he really
didn't need) turned out to be one of his hidden passions -- writing. truly, writing is the world's
most favorite metaphor, and sharing it, broadens the adventure to begin with. rudyard kipling once
qouted, "words are the most powerful drug used by mankind" if that was so, i am due for rehabiliatation
just to get over with the addiction. the pen is the tongue of the mind so let your mind speak, and write it
down; for words are so many things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces
that which makes thousands, perhaps millions.
theverybestofjessiemaria[dot]com, jesma's current and 4th blog, and possibly his last will be a hopefully
collection of his best hits since he started blogging in 2003. a frustrated novelist, he is currently studying
in Portsmouth, UK, struggling through his first year at University as a Eng'g Physics Nursing major. He
hopes to find some success in writing so as to soften the blow when telling his parents how much he is flunking
the course they would be funding for the next five years.
As a seasoned interweb dork, Jesma's diet consists mostly of a steady supply of energy drinks and
Cool Ranch Doritos. Because of this, Jesma must supplement his diet with a steady source of positive
feedback in order to survive. You can contribute to Jesma's continued existence by either leaving a
comment or by sending him an email at rossiyskaya_federatsiya@yahoo.com
an essay to the ateneo de manila's admissions personal essay requirement. the question was:
Are there any siginificant accomplishments you have realized, that helped defined you as a person?
-- I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train
stations on my free time, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic
slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently.
Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row. I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone
playing. I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook 30-minute brownies in
20 minutes.
I am an expert in snakes n' ladders, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru. Using only a hoe and a large glass
of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon basin from a horde of ferocious
army ants. I play bluegrass cello. I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries.
When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays,
after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend
passes. Last summer I toured around the whole world traveling with centrifugal force demonstration. My
deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise lost, Moby Dick,
and The Odeyssey in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the
exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA.
I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated
with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate
in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life, but forgot to write it down. I have made
extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven.
I breed prize-winning dandelions. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka,
and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played with Cirque du Soleil, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken
with Elvis.
