Round 1 went to The Norris, but Your Mom thinks it was a fluke! She wants a rematch and The Norris is ready to give it to her, so let’s get it on!

If you have five dollars and Chuck Norris has five dollars, Chuck Norris has more money than you.

Yo momma so poor she envies you to death for having five dollars.

Advantage: Chuck Norris

When Chuck Norris does a push-up, he isn’t lifting himself up. He’s pushing the Earth down.

Yo momma so fat Chuck Norris can’t push her down. Or up. Or sideways.

Advantage: Yo momma

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In the past few weeks, I have been on the hunt for a new job. It was an enlightening experience, really. I got to use a lot of the stuff I’ve been writing about in Bum No More. I got the chance to look back into my professional career (all two years of it!) and build a fairly attractive resume with surprisingly little padding. I also realized that I have several sets of skills that I can use to market myself, much like a young hooker after her first night of debauchery.

The skill I really want to develop right now is creative/content writing. It’s my passion ever since I discovered I suck at music and art. Writing is where I least suck, so what I really want to improve on is being a wordsmith. Drastically.

Potential Employer #1: Please write something about Makati.

Baddie: My pleasure.

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It was that time of the year again. It was time for UPLB Alumni to leave all their woes in the big city and go through Friday traffic en route to that small magical town at the foot of a mystical mountain. It was time for us to come home to the grass and the stars. It was the last night of UPLB FebFair 2008. And it was glorious.

I had my doubts, though. I was thinking “Fuck, I’m old. And I’m gonna feel much older when I go back. It’s going to take a miracle for me to enjoy the hell out of this night. Huhu.” But I was wrong. Nostalgia aside, going back to UPLB still feels like coming back home. Beer tastes better. Time is immaterial. The grass is green and the girls are pretty. Dammit, it’s Paradise City.

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This is was originally posted in The Man Blog. The post was based on my Baddie Loves You mini-series, which I originally pos… ah fuck it. Just read the damn entry.

So, it’s Valentine’s Week. As a responsible blogger and all around nice guy, I’m taking it upon myself to represent the rest of the closet hopeless romantic TMB editors in sharing the love with all you blog-reading people. I shall do this through the magic of poetry. This gift of love comes in the form of greeting card-ish poems that you manly men out there can share with your loved ones. Please do. You’ll thank us later. And as for you ladies, consider this collection of poems our Valentine’s love letter to you. We’re not just horny fat guys here. We have feelings too. Feelings… for you. This is not just about public service, people! This is all about love. Because goddammit, Baddie and TMB love you.

If you want to let your beloved know that all the shenanigans you’re pulling every now and then, including the time when you threw her cat through a window in hopes of capturing a LOLcat moment with your camera, are just weird ways of showing your love, this first poem is for you:

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It’s the last day of my stupid Valentine’s Week poetryvaganza! I know I said this is all about love, but in order to have love, you also have to have hate.

Seriously though, I hope there’s love in your life right now. Love for/from family, friends, and that hot chick/guy you’re not exactly sure you want to bring home but you dig nonetheless. If there is, then HIGH FIVE! And remember, Baddie loves you.