Saving… Face

Once upon a time there lived an ugly duckling named Marocharim… no wait, that’s not right…


I always say that if it’s on the Internet, it must be true.  Save for lapses in grammar (“did” = simple past tense, “showed” = simple past tense, proper usage is “the winner did not even show his face,” I’m just saying).

For the past few years, I have made it a reflex action to cover my face with the only thing awesome about my looks: my hair.  It’s not that I got beaten with the ugly stick or anything (I probably was, I wouldn’t know) but I am not photogenic.  As Helga put it, I’ll evolve into a prettier Pokémon.  I mean, take a look at this Flippish screencap from the Philippine Blog Awards last Friday:


Ade is the guy in the brown shirt.  Chrina Cuna of is the woman in #3399CC (or is it #0099CC).  So make out vampire-hands and an outline of what seems to be a human face, that’s me.  Yes, I do not look good.

If I were a teenager with angst issues (I [act like/am] one even if I’m 24, LOL) I’d probably engage in self-mutilation.  I would probably even be a misanthropic derelict and sociopathic malcontent with little regard for people who describe themselves as “simple lang” (who am I kidding, of course I don’t; I think of them in the same way as I do simple things… like intestinal parasites, for example).  Yet here’s where long hair’s awesome:


Thanks, Azrael.  The rockstar/heavy metal awesomeness ended when I realized I could still look like:

Aloysius Snuffleupagus, or…

A variety of black mushrooms.

There’s always Ozzy Osbourne.

“Juxtapositions,” from someone who asked Noynoy Aquino what he thought of people who mocked his hair problem.

11 Replies to “Saving… Face”

  1. You can braid your hair, dye it green, hot oil it, but never, ever cut it.

    And that is the gayest comment I’ve ever posted on a blog, ladies and gentlemen.

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