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!
an old post from 2006 [this was from my old blog (jesmaeruzione.blogspot.com) which roots way back junior year high school. this was about my lil' bro and I just knew I had to re-post this. Pretty hilarious (:]
Tucking Lloyd in bed every night, is a ritual that includes a short conversation, a little bedtime banter and a kiss. I never know what kind of conversation I'm going to get caught up in, when it was his turn. This was last night's discussion (I'm not sure if I should share this, but as a older bro, I have to know if this kind of stuff is normal.)
L: Good night, kuya. I Love you.
Me: Good night, bro. How's Ms. Aloe? (His teacher whom he has a big crush)
L: She's hot.
Me: Uh........OKAY. What's that supposed to mean?
L: She makes me all tingly when I see her.
Me: Aight young man. That's normal.
L: And I mean everything gets tingly (wink, wink.)
Me: Um.....er...(fuck it. screw you jesma!)..okay. That's, er......normal. I guess. Uh....good night young fella. Love you lots.
I kissed him on the cheek and ran out of the room as fast as my jello like legs would carry me before I collapsed on the hallway floor. The kid just turned six on Saturday. What is he doing with a tingly appendage? I thought that male appendages were not supposed to be tingly until much, much later? (Well, mine was...) Oh...my...GOD. I am having full cardiac arrest over this. Should I be worried? Should I be wondering if he's going to be like this all his life? Should I be stocking up on condoms? Are there such things as male chastity belts?? Holy fuckballs. I'm at a loss for words. Help me out here, because I don't know what to think.
[HAHAHA.. male chastity belts? (: now that he'll be turning 8 in a couple of weeks, I wonder how he is now. I super duper miss him though.. ): Please. don't grow up! I'd want you to stay like that forever.]
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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
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persons with low self-esteem, no sense of humour or irrational
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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
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Have fun! :)
all the love,
jesma
Thursday, May 22, 2008
an old post from 2006 [this was from my old blog (jesmaeruzione.blogspot.com) which roots way back junior year high school. this was about my lil' bro and I just knew I had to re-post this. Pretty hilarious (:]
Tucking Lloyd in bed every night, is a ritual that includes a short conversation, a little bedtime banter and a kiss. I never know what kind of conversation I'm going to get caught up in, when it was his turn. This was last night's discussion (I'm not sure if I should share this, but as a older bro, I have to know if this kind of stuff is normal.)
L: Good night, kuya. I Love you.
Me: Good night, bro. How's Ms. Aloe? (His teacher whom he has a big crush)
L: She's hot.
Me: Uh........OKAY. What's that supposed to mean?
L: She makes me all tingly when I see her.
Me: Aight young man. That's normal.
L: And I mean everything gets tingly (wink, wink.)
Me: Um.....er...(fuck it. screw you jesma!)..okay. That's, er......normal. I guess. Uh....good night young fella. Love you lots.
I kissed him on the cheek and ran out of the room as fast as my jello like legs would carry me before I collapsed on the hallway floor. The kid just turned six on Saturday. What is he doing with a tingly appendage? I thought that male appendages were not supposed to be tingly until much, much later? (Well, mine was...) Oh...my...GOD. I am having full cardiac arrest over this. Should I be worried? Should I be wondering if he's going to be like this all his life? Should I be stocking up on condoms? Are there such things as male chastity belts?? Holy fuckballs. I'm at a loss for words. Help me out here, because I don't know what to think.
[HAHAHA.. male chastity belts? (: now that he'll be turning 8 in a couple of weeks, I wonder how he is now. I super duper miss him though.. ): Please. don't grow up! I'd want you to stay like that forever.]
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.
