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(this one's kind of racist...)
A Pinoy went to a bar in Hawaii to have some drinks. At the counter, he sat next to the famous Hollywood director, Steven Spielberg who was already ahead by a quart of alcohol. After a couple of beers, the Pinoy sensed that Spielberg was glaring at him. Suddenly, in a flash the Pinoy crashed down from his stool, felled by a vicious hook from the director.
Picking himself up, he yelled, "Wat da hell is dat por?"
Spielberg ranted: "That's for the bombing of Pearl Harbor, you #@@!!##! My dad perished in that bombing!"
"Tang Na! I am not Jafanese, you stufid Nincomfoof! I am Filipino!" exclaimed the Pinoy.
The inebriated director replied, "Yeah yeah yeah ....Japanese, Burmese, Chinese, Vietnamese, Filipino ...you are all the same."
Regaining his composure, the Pinoy dusted off his white pants, straightened the collar of his loud bird-of-paradise printed shirt, took his seat and ordered a double R&B;from the bartender. After a few sips, the Pinoy stood up and delivered his best Jackie Chan karate kick, sending the director flying halfway across the room.
"What was that for?!!" shouted the surprised Spielberg from about fifteen feet away.
"Dat's por da sinking of da TITANIC! I had my grandpader on dat shif!" the Pinoy answered back.
"You ignorant Chink! The TITANIC was sunk by an iceberg!" exclaimed the director.
"Yah yah yah...Iceberg, Sfielberg, Carlsberg... you are all the same."
There were three students: one Japanese, Haole, and Filipino. The teacher asked the students to use the words, "chicken, nut, and bread" in a sentence. The Japanese girl went first.
"Last night for dinner my mother cooked us chicken and yummy banana nut bread".
"That's good", the teacher replied.
Next went the haole boy, "I live on a farm and we raise chickens, and grow nuts to put them into our bread".
After that, the teacher asked the Filipino boy to use the words in a sentence.
The Filipino boy replied, "Ho ya know... my madda said neba put de plastic bag oba my sistah's head cuz chicken nut bread"
the truth may hurt, but its those lies that kill.
You are left with two choices when the truth is revealed: either let people destroy you, or get up and fight. Because even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just stand there.
At the end of the dayupon finding out this "hurtful truth", there are some things you just can`t help but talk about. Some things we just don`t want to hear, & some things we say cause we can`t be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they`re what you do. Some things you say cause there`s no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. & not too often, but every now & then, some things simply speak for themselves.
I’m learning to master the art of growing up, and let me tell you, it's a long process. full of tripping, saying something you regret, getting grounded, blaming others for something you did, staying up late, trying to fit in, pigging out and laughing too hard. taking pictures, singing too loud to old songs, getting bad grades, fighting with parents, spending money too fast and backstabbing friends. stupid crushes and falling too fast, trying to hold onto something that simply won't last. lending a hand, giving advice, dressing to impress, trying to look nice. putting on an act, fooling no one but yourself, learning to forgive and to put your pride on the shelf. rainy Mondays and crazy Saturday nights, secret tears cried when you turn off the lights. making a complete fool of yourself in front of everyone. not taking life seriously, just having fun. life is a rollercoaster; it ain't no merry go round. there are times when it's up and times when it's down. but at the very end when you get off the ride, you realize you've had the time of your life.
If you call that wasting, then clearly you are insane.
someone asked me the other day if my glass was half empty or half full. i was going to say it's empty, but that's not completely true. my life isn't void & i have my happy moments, but they usually just seem to disappear, or get worse. so, my glass is cracked. yes, cracked. it gets filled up with happiness & hope, but it always ends up escaping my grasp. it always ends up emptying out. it will never be full because it's always leaking. & one day, it will get thrown away, because no one wants a broken glass.
i've been on this road for a long time now. at times, it seems like the road is never going to end. on this road, there's a lot of hills & mountains, peaks & valleys, even a lot of potholes. on this road, it's never smooth. on this road of life -- i don't know where i'm going. i just know where i want to end up.