An Overload of F*ck

I hate facebook. F*ck this shit. F*ck social networking sites. F*ck having a venue to see shit you don't wanna see but HAVE to see for the sole purpose of wanting to have something stupid come back and bite you in the *ss... like how it bit Pandora and the rest of mankind in the *ss when she opened that stupid box.

F*ck being able to open 12 tabs of Xs and "restoring previous sessions" of that sh*t.

F*ck google.

F*ck history.

...

But yeah, I'm a hypocrite. F*ck that too. I don't care. I wish I met a nomad who didn't have to deal with this sh*t and he and I could live on a farm and he can hunt and gather and chop trees to get wood and he and I wouldn't have to tweet about how happy we are because we wouldn't give a flying f*ck.

(And I just realized that you don't really need to hunt and gather if you already live on a farm... *shrugs*)

But whatevs.

Too much information is OVER-RATED.

Knowledge is power?

(over-f*cking-rated)

.....

I used to have to resort to my funk and wagnalls encyclopedia to get "knowledge."
And I used to actually go to the library to read. Hell, I used to sleep in the library and write notes and loveletters with a pen and paper in a library. And I never f*cking got that duey (dewey, same frikkin diff, danee.) decimal system sh*t. But library cards and overdue books were just the awesomest things ever.

*sigh*

.....

God damn you Facebook and your "Me likes this" function and tagging and sh*t.

And jeez multiply, isn't there an easier way I can hide (or delete) my albums without having to open them ONE-BY-ONE????

Ugh.

......

So for all this ranting and obsessive/abusive use of the word "f*ck", why the hell do I do this?

That's easy.

I do this so that I may collect as many opportunities and instances to say...






"Suck it, bitch. I. Win."

3

It's my third monthsary today.

Today, my desk was moved to the "romance star" corner of our office --- in Feng Shui, it's the area that's supposed to bring romance and governs relationships and is symbolized by hugging couples.

Now I'm supposed to put two mandarin ducks on a plate on my desk to enhance this love. *shrugs*

......

I was formerly in the "conflict star" area. I guess you can say that Paolo didn't have the smoothest 3months whilst my sitting there. And I know I'm not the easiest girlfriend to have what with my retrogressive jealousy and my annoying habit of wanting to pick fights and my mood swings and my constant need for perfection.

But then again... I wasn't gonna let him have it easy. And I think I'm more in love now than then... and if love really does grow rather than wane over time, then this is one of those, i-love -you-more-and-more-each-day type loves, despite how cliche or corny or just downright fallacious it is (esp. for the cynics and romantic atheists of the world... which I once was, fyi). We become more and more like one of those uber-happy perfect married couples who can just hang out or party it up or work together in the same room without talking or have a fully-packed family day sunday running errands and spending time with the baby... just to do it all over again.

Seriously.

I'm obsessed with the guy. And we can do all of that whilst having crazy monkey (but responsible) sex. LOL!!!

I especially love the family he and I have made. And that requires more than just nature and genes, if that counts at all these days. He's nurtured us into one. And I think my daughter and I couldn't have been more blessed to have someone love us both so much.

....

But he and I made a deal that once we hit our 1st year anniversary, we will no longer count our monthsaries. (But I still will. Hmph. Monthsaries are AWESOME.)

So awesome in fact, that he got me that grill plate teflon thingie that doesn't require oil or charcoal for you to fry or grill your food... since I've always wanted one. And now, I've never been more excited to "grill" my marinated chicken fillet tonight.

I love you, Paolo. I got myself a keeper.

BFFs and the Jocasta Complex

I'm sorry to state the obvious but...

Best friends are the BEST. *puts hand on heart whilst sighing*

....

So Ms. Monna Mariano... I know... that in the heart of hearts, I will always allow you to call me up JUST when I'm about to work, in my pambahay, all the work essentials neatly sprawled on my bed (particularly, the cigarettes)... and ask me out to Tomatokick JUST to drink only because it's undeniably and inexcusably near my apartment and since apparently, you live SUPER near my place and somehow I feel like I de-ja vu'ed myself back to UPLB and back to those days when all you needed to do was call and I was always ready and willing to drive to wherever you were, even when I was in the middle of something ridiculously important and have to wake up super early the next day JUST to join your little drinking session for some new (or old) heartache and share your misery.

But most of all, for my best friend, I would break my diet rather than break her heart. Or let any other guy do it. *amen*

.....

And Monna? He's not worth it. And I've never meant that cliche with more conviction in my life. He may be baby daddy... you may have more than a decade's worth of history under your belt. But enough should be enough... and like I told you again, lastnight... the same thing I've been telling you since I was 17 and we were only freshmen REGARDING THE SAME FRIKKIN' GUY (sheesh)... if he knocks on your door and asks you back (for the gazillionth time amidst the lies, the hurtful words, the cheating --- and i'm NOT even exaggerating), knowing that your loving and forgiving heart will probably let him back in... tell him that you're sorry... but he hurt you... you and your daughter... and he has to realize that you both deserve better... and he has to earn your love back. If not the love, at least the respect.

*sighs*

Girls can be so hardheaded... and love can be so complicated.

*shrugs*

But my best friend... no matter how much of a MARTYR she is and no matter how many times I wanna strangle her... she does give the best advice --- the best meaning, allowing me to do what I want (like annoy the boyfriend with questions about his "romantic history") and rationalize that "it's better to be a fool for five minutes than a fool forever" --- though I really don't get how that piece of advice follows my wanting to open the proverbial pandora's box on relationship no-no's but still high-fiving her for the wisdom and the loving consent and the non-judgmental assurance and affection... even when her two brothers STRONGLY advised against my decision.

Well... I'm just a girl. And girls can be playful. =P

I haven't felt more at ease in the longest time. And maybe it's the nostalgia that college brings. To have had the ultimate UP buddy --- from maintaining a non-probationary status whilst being DRUNK ALL DAY, EVERYDAY, DURING ANY TIME OF THE DAY. And being broken hearted and using it as a reason to cut class, drink some more, sober up with coffee then drink again... and vandalizing our apartment walls and that time I distracted her brother just so she can uppercut the girl who her boyfriend cheated on her with and that time she snuck out of her house at 6 in the morning just to rescue me from my woman-beating ex.

Best of all...

I like how I can be stupid with my bestfriend. And I can talk about a**-licking with her and she won't mind, or at least, she'll find it really funny instead of disgusting. LOL!


Oh and speaking of best friends...

Roni, my sister, REALLY IS MY TWIN. It's not even funny. (So Roni, it's ok to pick fights with your boyfriend because of the stupid decisions he's made in the past, hahahaha!) Oh right. They're only allowed one. =P

Sarap nga naman kasi mangulit. *tee-hee*

....

Oh shoot, you live near my apartment. I must learn to turn my phone off in case you might call, hahaha!






***FYI, the guys in the picture are our brods-slash-bodyguards. No romantic involvement whatsoever. =P


.....

And in addition:

What the hell is up with this whole Jason Ivler nonsense? Homeboy has got a fan site on facebook.

Seriously?

Like seriously? He shoots someone cuz of road-rage, is in the hospital after a hostile confrontation with the POlice (where he was described as emulating "Rambo" during the shoot-out)... and he has a fan site???

Wow.

And seriously (again)...

Marlene Aguilar (Jason's mom)... should be diagnosed with the Jocasta Complex. (Cuz homegirl is super crushin' on her own son.)

Donkey Kong

I want my colon cleaned.

Seriously.

....

See, last sunday, I was diagnosed with costochondritis... WTF, right?... which simply means the inflammation of the ribs. So apparently, the sharp, stabbing pains pulsing from the right side of my body was due to that. Now how do frikkin' ribs get inflammed?!

Then I began to google more about it and realized that you can get it from physical injury. Now I didn't fall on my side... and I certainly didn't get it from (as Ruth so eloquently put it) "crazy monkey sex". I figured the only real strenuous physical activity I underwent which could've caused it was my "Fat-Burning Dance Party" DVD exercise routine, as taught by Jennifer Galardi.

She taught me to salsa, cha cha, and party funk.

What a tragedy. Now I need another new year's resolution.

There goes that diet plan.

.....

The following day, I had an appointment with Amezcua Spa along Katipunan for my feature article regarding their services. I was treated to a Dead Sea Salt and Peppermint Body Scrub and a 90minute Hilot, not to mention a 30minute prep to the jacuzzi, steam bath, and sauna.

All of which was f*cking awesome.

Then I had to return again yesterday for my medical checkup (as Amezcua is a MEDICAL SPA) and learned about all sorts of things in my body I never had.

Like microbes.

Gross.

(Ok, I know we've got em but it's just different when you can see them moving around under a microscope.)

I got a live blood analysis and it showed that my blood cells were HELLUH abnormal. Apparently, from the drop of blood they took from my finger, they figured out that I:

-had poor blood circulation
-liver stress
-had few metals in my body
-uric acid crystals
-and that my white blood cells were currently (during time of checkup) battling those microbes I got from skipping meals

(That's why I hate doctors.)

Luckily, they didn't see any red or black crystals (which supposedly means my 13years of smoking was taking its toll on me).

I was given a diet plan of fruits for breakfast, anything for lunch all the way up to an early dinner, then only fruits or vegetables come past 5pm. Of course, I take anything as not really anything because I'm supposed to cut down on fat, fried, dairy, and nuts (and yeah alcohol)... and to drink more yakult for those live micro-organisms and probiotics.

And my costochondritis prevents me from taking caffeine.

*shrugs*

Oh and FYI, I have completely cut rice out of my diet. I'm on week three. Furrealz.

...


I also got "cupped" yesterday. Yeah. It hurt. 24 cups sucking on your back and "energy meridians". My back looked like I was some creature out of the movie "Species" (y'all remember that movie? Wasn't that Rebecca Romjin-Stamos?)

Anyhow,

On a more positive note (according to my chinese cupping interpreter doctor), that I had a relatively positive "chi" save for my being a bit of a worrywart and some whack hormonal dysfunction ----- (so you see Paolo, I'm not completely crazy out of my own volition =)

But I still look like a reptile.

*shrugs*

....

I was told if you get your colon cleaned, you lose about 1.5lbs per session whilst removing toxins from your body. They shove pressurized lukewarm water up your a** and clean that sh*t (literally) for a good 45minutes.

Dang.

I think I would really appreciate this for my birthday. (And no, love, I am not addressing this to you so you need not feel pressured to get me this =)

Or perhaps I should get this for my boyfriend instead so he won't be so iffy when it comes to me shoving anything else up his a**hole. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! (Cuz I'm a freak like dat!) ---

He's gonna so hate me right now, LOL!

***Disclaimer: I have not put or shoved anything inside my boyfriend's rectum as he so violently refuses my offers and advances. However, this is a personal fantasy and wish of mine and I will keep insisting until I get what I want... Which probably won't be anytime soon. *sigh*

....
....
....

On a less sexually freaky note:

It's almost 10am. I just had watermelon for breakfast. I have 2hours left before I can eat my tupperware lunch of half grilled chicken fillet and 3 baby potatoes.

My tummy is grumbling. =(

But this healthy living sh*t is so ON.

BOOOM!

Because I'm the awesomest girlfriend ever...

And because I know absolutely NOTHING about kicks and sneakers and SBs and dunks save for the brand name but buying a pair anyway simply because...

I love him. And he works hard. And he hasn't bought anything for himself since he and I got together and since I do keep his best intentions at heart...

All the way to the sneaker store (welegendary --- thanks ms. danee for the serendipitous/supposed DJ AM kicks purchase which I wasn't able to get but who cares? i think these kicks are WAAAAAAAAAAAAY cooler =)

First buyer status with homegirl whippin' out the wallet, hahahaha!!!

***But the cheezy "kilig" smile on his face was PRICELESS.

So ladies, don't be afraid to buy your man things... even if you don't get it. =P Just make sure you make him show you just how grateful his little sneaker-loving heart looooooooooves you. *licks lips*

                                       Waiting in line at We Legendary

                                            Shoe-shopping with the baby.

                         Nike SB Quickstrike Booom (oooh look at all the pwitty colors... =)

    First buyer status: "Happy Valentine's, Happy Birthday, Happy 6th monthsary... baby. =P"

....

Thanks to Jojo Munsayac for the pictures. =)
http://www.kingcrux31.com/

***sociology

I like blogging and all...

But I just realized how much I miss talking to people. Like really talking to them. I miss real, physical interaction. (Not that I don't appreciate being "written" to and writing back...)

I just miss my friends. Miss the way we were before the internet.

Yeah. That's it.

I miss ranting and raving in person. I miss seeing looks of surprise and disapproval and changes in tone and being scolded and ridiculed and patted on the back.

I miss being able to laugh and cry in front of them.

I miss finding a friend in a stranger I just met on the bus. And coffee dates. Not starbucks coffee pretentious dates. Like... nescafe 3-in-1 whilst walking around somewhere, finding a bench, lighting a cigarette and just... talking. Aimlessly. Endlessly. Without looking at the time.

....

It's funny now, how there are so many means to communicate with people... thru text, fb, email, twitter, and other what-have-you...

But people don't really "communicate" anymore.

God I need to go to a bar alone and find me a stranger to talk to.

MY LONGEST LOVE STORY EVER.

girl, did it ever occur to you that maybe you're not with anyone cause no one deserves you yet? you are an amazing, gorgeous, funny, SMART woman, and you should be with someone who deserves you. who deserves every inch. (well, we cant help those moments when we give em every inch just cuz we're horny!) but you know what im talkin about right. thats what she said. -Gia

 

….

….

 

 

People have told me... time and time again... that you can NEVER find love at the club. (And yes, I can still hear Nick's loving but firm reproach ringing in my ears...)

Let me tell you all now that that. is. bullsh*t.

Seriously.

And whoever tells you (though well-meaning as they may be) that the aforementioned "theory" were actually true... then...

Perhaps they've just been going to the wrong clubs.

Like me.

 

I think I seriously just went to the wrong clubs.

 

But we’ll get to that in a bit.

Now I was supposed to write about why I believe you CAN find love at a club because obviously (at least, I hope I've made it pretty obvious), that I am in love. And yes... that I found love.

At a club. (Ok ok, it wasn’t really a club more like bar-turned-club but same diff, right?)

And all of the world's cliches about love coming when you're not looking for it or finding it serendipitously when you least expect it and everything that ever held that same premise...

Holds true.

 

Fo’ sho’. (Can I get an Amen from my lady friends who found their loves whilst dancing like a happy little love bunny whilst holding a redbull and vodka up in their hand?)

 

I guess it really is just one of those things we all have trouble accepting because... well... we're human.

And we get lonely.

The same way I did. The same way I made every guy who gave me a morsel of affection "the one". The same way I went home alone every night because I knew that I was selling myself short and I couldn't bear to have any evidence of that reminder waking up beside me... and I'd have to talk to it and make it coffee and have that awkward instance of having to kiss or wave this shortcoming of a reality up out my door while my daughter sat on and watched.

Gross.

(I know Mr. Toledo is going to read this but I have to explain where and at exactly which point I was in my life to further strengthen my love-finding-at-the-club testament.)

So...

After four months, an X no. of "he-just-wasn't-it" and "oh-god-he-has-a-girlfriend" misses than hits, and a sickly, burned out, slowly chubbifying little body... I finally decided that before my 26th birthday, I would rid myself of the notion that singlehood was a disease... and that "quality" should really be more important than "celerity".

 

But then again, maybe… in the beginning, at least, I was just sour-graping after seeing my beloved ex enduring with the same girl who he got with and flaunted just two weeks after our break-up (and no, I am not ashamed to self-deprecate since I now find this almost tragically funny and yes, yes, you all told me so and that’s what I get yadayadayada but he and I are the coolest ex-couple baby parents ever so I’m not complaining...)

 

And besides…

I found love 3 days before my birthday…

 

And it was like one of those real love type loves, ya know? *blush*

Only... I didn't know it then. (I actually dated another guy on my actual birthday who was bad for me from the start but the messiah complex in me thought I could “save” him…)

 

What was that saying…???

 

“While waiting for the right one, have fun with the wrong ones?”

 

Yeah.

 

So when I finally found him… I was too drunk to notice. And for the first time... I was too drunk to care. Because you don't look for love on a Tuesday (as I had this twisted belief for being single and desperate for so long that love could only be found on either a Monday, Friday, or a Saturday). At a club… … … and because apparently (from what my lovely sister Mika reminded me of the day after)... all I cared about that night (after downing some 4 vodka-7s and 4 vodka-bulls and a blowjob… *licks lips*) was throwing ridiculous 90s music requests at this poor, hapless, unassuming DJ and harassing him while he played then later, taking his lovely fedora (which I personally didn't even really like) and wanting to keep it for myself.

God I think he and I must've gotten into a 30-minute debate as to why I should get to keep his hat. And I got him to get my number, too.

 

Yes.

 

I got HIM to get MY number.

*smacks forehead*

But then again... I didn't care. I didn't care that I didn't get his hat. And I didn't care that my sister kept apologizing for my behavior.

I was drunk. And I always forget things when I'm drunk.

 

But he was polite. I remember that much. And he let me down gently and politely declined my drunken aggression which I yielded on his fedora.

 

I DON’T EVEN LIKE HATS. Sheesh.

 

 

***God I can already feel this is going to be a long story, hahahahaha!!!

 

But I wanna gush. Shit. I waited this long. Ranted this much.

 

I deserve to gush.

 

Any. How.

 

So you see… it really was one of those random things that you look back on and go, “Oh man, I should’ve paid more attention then I might’ve been smoother whilst being in the presence of ‘the One’” or look back and think how something so trivial and forgetful pave the way to something so much more than you could ever hope for.

 

*cue background music for sudden epiphany*

 

That sounded so lame.

 

And I just made all of that sound really grandiose and over-romantic.

 

Well… it is. Now. In retrospect.

 

There really wasn’t anything eye-opening about it. It was almost like I’d become too jaded to believe that Love comes in a shiny box and when you open it, a blinding ray of sunlight and rainbows come flying out.

 

We just happened.

 

Like…

 

He texted me the next day. We texted. Really random things. But mostly a lot of 90s jams he and I should listen to whilst nursing a hangover. Saadiq, D’angelo, SWV even.

 

*cue Anything by SWV feat. Wu Tang Clan* (I firmly believe this was the song that made him fall in love with me but we won’t get into that.)

 

And that was it.

 

He never even asked me out on a date.

 

Though I never paid that any real mind. I just figured he wasn’t that into me to bother.

*shrugs*

 

I dismissed the thought of even attempting to flirt with him or throw game or anything else I would normally do when I liked a guy. Though… I’m not even sure I actually liked him at all. He wasn’t my type. (Sorry babe… you weren’t.) He just had a wicked ass playlist loaded with 90s goodness.

 

And that was it.

 

That was really it.

 

A couple of weeks passed. I still went out. Did my “dating” thing.

 

Then… a good friend passed away. And there was this guy…

 

*dandandaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!*

 

I guess misery really does love company. And I needed the attention. And maybe I was just sick of waiting… and I was afraid if I didn’t take a chance, it would never come again.

 

So this guy… who showered me with attention and affection and spoiled me and told me I was beautiful and catered to my every whim… when he wasn’t out breaking his curfew, that is (as he was 7 years my junior)… I opened myself up to him and became his girlfriend.

 

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

 

And looking back…

 

It kinda sorta was…

 

Because this gave me a justifiable, reasonable, un-slutty reason to email my newfound text buddy/semi-friend… this elusive, unassuming DJ who I only met twice (the second time, I was just as drunk and he was with a girl). I asked him, without formality or modesty… to make me a CD of my favorite 90s jams so I can educate my young-un boyfriend.

 

And the letter went something like this:

 

From: michelle kay callanta <michelle_kay_callanta@yahoo.com.ph>
To: switchtrik@yahoo.com
Sent: Wednesday, September 23, 2009 5:37:46 PM
Subject: MICHELLE'S 90S PLAYLIST

These were just some of my favorites but let me know if I forgot any pivotal 90s jams. =)


Groove Theory - Tell Me
Mary J. and Method Man - All I need
SWV and Wu Tang - Anything
Lucy Pearl - Dance Tonight
Musiq Soulchild - Love
Brownstone - Cant tell you why
Changing Faces - Stroke you up
TLC - Something you wanna know
D'angelo - You're my Lady
En Vogue - Givin' him something he can feel
Shai - Baby I'm Yours
Maxwell - This Woman's Work
Tribe Called Quest - 1nce Again
New Edition - I'm Still In Love with You
Total - Kissing you oh honey remix
Something For the People - My Love is the Shhhh
Mya feat. Blackstreet - Take Me There
Aaliyah - Back and Forth
Mary J Blige - Sweet thing
Quincy Jones (feat. Babyface and Tamia) - Slow Jams
Monica - Why I love you so much
Brandy - I wanna be down
Jodeci - Freek n You
Busta Rhymes - Woo Hah (I got you all in check)
Fugees - Fu Gee La
Lost Boyz - Renee



Thanks,

Michelle N. Callanta
LIFESTYLE EDITOR

 

(Not even a hi or hello there, hahahaha!)

 

I thought it would make a great gift.

 

And he obliged.

 

And we began to email each other.

 

And the emails just got longer…

 

And longer…

 

And longer…

 

And more personal…

 

And more intimate…

 

Until each response became an integral part of our day. And he was so diligent in responding to my every thought as we religiously (and almost competitively), enclosed youtube videos of nothing but throwback 90s hip-hop and Rnb classics.

 

And so finally, when I was asked to stay in and guard the office along with our art director during Typhoon Pepeng (the one after Typhoon Ondoy), I decided to throw a little relief party. (Oh God I hope my boss doesn’t find out about this, hahahaha!)

 

The unlikeliest of suspects?

 

Our art director Chad, my bff and fellow love-finding-at-the-club patron Beverly, and… who’d have thought? Him. He who offered to bring me relief goods in the form of alcohol and pizza all the way from Makati. It was only then (out of my embarrassment), I decided to finally call this guy.

 

My text buddy who became my email buddy.

 

Just typing that weirded me out. Sheesh.

 

And when he came by… I LOOKED HELLUH WHACK. I met him in my jogging shorts, black wifebeater, and maroon University of the Philippines hoodie AND NO MAKE-UP. I was totally not expecting anything from this guy except a kick-ass friendship… and my 90s CD.

 

But then… I got drunk. --------------------->

 

And God, WE ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I’M DRUNK. (Uhm, no I didn’t f*ck him right then and there.)

 

I became UN-FINESSEively flirty. (For want of a better term... and looking like that!!!)

 

My friends shook their heads in disapproval. I was being a jerk. I knew it. But a cute one, nonetheless. I guess… I wanted to have some fun. I guess… I wanted to prove that this unassuming, nonchalant, kind and generous stranger LIKED me.

 

Because it’s fun to know these things. And because ego-boosts and winning and being utterly desirable and irresistible is… fun. =)

 

So he and I decided to take the 3-minute walk to Mister Kabab (and if y’all know and like Mister Kabab, can I get an AMEN?!)… in the middle of a typhoon WHILST holding his hand.

 

…..

 

And when we reached the desolate, rain-soaked streets illuminated by a row of warm streetlamps… there, beside the gold-colored bars that decorated the sidewalk and underneath an umbrella… I asked if I could kiss him.

 

….

….

….

 

We’ve been inseparable ever since.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***My boyfriend and I broke up a week after that. (Perhaps in the end, I needed someone who loved the 90s… not someone born in the 90s… *shrugs*)

The Grind.

Y'all remember that show on Mtv with Eric Niese from the Real World 1?

Probably not.

But it was a fun workout show back in the 90s. And Eric Niese was deeeeeeelicious. And Dan Cortese. And Simon Rex. =P

....
....
....

God I hate the internet. (Ok no, I don't but I can seriously do without it if it weren't say... available. Unless it's for work.)

That's why I made sure I left my laptop in the office and steered clear from coffeeshops and wifi and borrowing my boyfriend's lappy or my sister's lappy just so I wouldn't get sucked into the whole let's-cyberstalk-people-on-the-internet phenomenon whilst enjoying my Christmas vacation.

(Whilst is my new favorite word.)

So yeah.

People should take detoxes from the net... like they do with alcohol. Or junkfood. Or whatever else you decided to stuff yourself with in excess... cuz it's Christmas and you have an excuse to make dieting and healthy living a new year's resolution rather than an all-year round one. (Guilty as charged --- day one of diet and alcohol detox starts TODAY)

And people need better pastimes.




Oh and...

What's up with wanting to be my facebook friend? Like really?

Aren't we good enough friends in real life? Am I really all that more interesting on a computer screen than in person?

*shrugs*

....

Happy New Year, everyone.

Let the daily work grind of checking my email, updating my multiply, loading music on youtube, chatting with the boyfriend on YM, and googling videogame walkthroughs... BEGIN.

Oh shoot, editorial meeting to commence in 10mins.