The Case of the Lost Cellphone

Yes, yah read that right. My fucking Palm Treo has been lost. Or/and taken. I should blame this all on Kevin, Bleue, Rens, and Aaron James for convincing me to stay for a couple of hours past my self-imposed curfew. I doubt I’d even remember if I got robbed. Basta the only thing that comes to mind is that I was so sick I vomited my gut off when I told the taxi driver to stop for a minute on the road. Well, actually, I’ve been doing that since I woke up earlier this morning.

Heck, even the BayanTel man who fixed the DSL connection a few minutes ago found my demise highly amusing and worthy of a good chuckle.

I wouldn’t have gotten drunk. I wouldn’t have forgotten how in hell I got home in the middle of the night. And most of all, I wouldn’t have lost my phone.

It hurts so much because aside from the fact that almost all my files are saved there (via my 2GB SD card), that’s Php7,000 of pure blogging earnings. Php7K down the drain. Damn it all to hell. And now, it’s all gone *poof* and I can’t possibly do anything about it. Filipinos are ingenious; I’m sure one way or another, the one who got the so-called blessing will find a way to crack the intricate password I’ve set on the phone.

Gone are my Kurama/Botan fanfictions. Gone are my contacts. Gone are my life and blood.

So, Drew’s (it’s in Katipunan, almost across McDo, behind Shakey’s), here’s to you and your power to make me drunk as hell. Guys (those I was with yester night), here’s to your haggling prowess when it comes to my curfew. I lost my frigging phone, and I thank you all for that. Yes, yes, I’m acquitting myself of this crime.

(Or maybe it’s karma for speaking ill about *some* bloggers, he he.)

In the meantime, you can text me at +63 928 206 2263. Be sure to tell me who the hell you are and what your business is with me.

Thank you.