IS IT JUST ME? OR IS THIS THE ROOT OF ALL (BLOGGING) EVIL?

Money, whether in the form of cold hard cash or just the concept of it, always has the power to ruin things or make things more exciting.

I don’t know if I should thank Dundee for posting the link to this blog worth assessment thingie on his turf. I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad that I clicked on the link and dared to see just how much I was worth.

My blog is worth $8,468.10.
How much is your blog worth?

I was content with my worth. I mean, I didn’t think it was bad. I’d almost be a a half-millionaire (much like a half-vegetarian) when the money is converted to Philippine pesos. That’s nifty enough for me.

But then this blog worth assessment thing could spawn a whole new pastime called “gold blog digging.” I mean, what happens when bloggers suddenly gravitate towards your blog? How do you know they’re not after you for your blog worth alone? How do you know they’re not gold blog diggers?

I can also see some ruthless bloggers making up this rule:

Never blog mingle or blog flirt with people whose blogs are worth less than your own.

Oh, God. Why? Why did I click that button? Why? Must I now be compelled to social climb in the blog world? Must I suffer the agony of being middle class in the blog world, too? How do I raise my worth? Must I sleep my way to the top?

Wait, how does one sleep her way to the top in the blogging world?

I am willing to pay for any helpful information. By way of services, of course. What sort of services? Well, let’s just say it’s not necessarily the taxable kind. It may also exhaust both parties. But I’ll throw in a Happy Meal for the morning after. Wouldn’t you say that’s an offer that can’t be refused?

(Insert evil laughter here.)

Keep thinking dirty, troops.

WEAPON ENVY #1: NIGHTMARE GLOVE

Thursday is a fine day to kill off some people. I shall keep the details to myself. I’m not sure if I can keep myself from acting on my violent fantasies if I enumerate the one thousand and one acts of idiocy that I had to witness today.

I do, however, long for a special type of weapon to gear up for the day when I can finally give in to my rage. Here’s a favorite killing implement from the not-too-distant past.

Popularized in the horror flick that had even insomniacs like me shivering in our beds and actually thanking God for our affliction, the glove of death of Freddy Krueger from Wes Craven’s 1984 horror film, A Nightmare on Elm Street, has become as much of an icon as its hideous owner.

I got so excited when I saw that this model of the glove was actually being sold online. But I was dismayed to learn that the razor blades were not real. Darn it. I already had a scenario in my head that had me slashing across the face of every nincompoop that crossed my path while chanting ala Freddy, “I’ll kill you slow.”

WORD FOR THE DAY: ANTI-GAYISTIC

The root of this word is the word, “gay,” which refers to a group of fabulous people like my friend, Jose. The word, anti-gayistic, refers to comments that presume way too much about gay people. It is to be used as an icky adjective.

Apparently (and this shouldn’t really be news at all), not every gay man is cut in the mold of the crew from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

Now what are the most common presumptions about gay men, in particular?

They know everything there is to know about cosmetics.

Though this may be true for some of them, this is not true for all of them. Thus, mindlessly asking any random gay man to do your make-up is anti-gayistic.

They know everything there is to know about fashion.

As my fine friend put it, “I may be stylish but I don’t expect me to know all the fashion labels.” This was what he said to me after I unthinkingly asked him where the closest Karimadon ( a boutique) branch was. I’m lucky he did not slap me silly for my anti-gayistic assumptions.

They know everything there is to know about pop culture trash.

Though gay men may have a good knowledge of all things fun, they are not the walking encyclopedias of every piece of useless pop culture information on earth. I also made the mistake of assuming that my friend Jose knew every crappy film ever made. To which he said, “What? Am I supposed to feel less gay because I don’t know this crap!!!???” Once again, I was lucky he didn’t decide to bop me on the head with a hammer.

They will all wear girly stuff.

Though a good number of them may admire girly stuff, not all of them will wear it. Once, when confronted by some people about why he is bearded and why he wears men’s clothes, Jose quipped, “I don’t look like a girl. I leave it to the other fabulous gay men who can pull it off to do that.” And that was that.

They will go for all kinds men.

They do go for men…but not all of them. So, the men who think that gay men would be after them, I have this to say: Give gay men some credit. They have taste. They won’t go for just anyone, especially not if you’re pompous enough to think that gay men would be automatically attracted to you.

With that said, I resolve to be more careful about the stupid questions I ask Jose. Or any other gay man for that matter.