anything chic & badass

So yesterday, I was with my mum. She went to a parlor to get her hair trimmed (and now she doesn’t like how it went. I said, she now is a rock star XD). I was sitting on a chair with my eyes lurking around outside. Then there’s this guy that passed by the parlor’s door… neatly dressed in thobe with his uhmm, I ain’t sure if he has his beard lol. He was walking straight when his eyes feel to the ground, lowering his gaze… I don’t know what he saw.  No, I swear I wasn’t stalking him for that 5-second moment I saw him.

It just occurred to me that maybe, I could be Khadijah and he be my guest, le Muhammad. Loooooool. Dude, no. I just don’t have the swag of Khadijah radhiallahu anha.

And no, if you think I’m going gaga over what happened, no. Please. ‘Coz love at first sight doesn’t really happen… but I guess, the feeling of wanna-fall-in-love-with at first sight does happen. XD

Earlier yesterday, my mum asked me to go with her to the wet market to buy some some stuff for the upcoming food fest here in less than a week. (Ohrayt, ohrayt. It’s just my sistarr’s grad, mmkay? Hihihi) When the trike we were on was stuck in a light traffic in the market, there’s this guy who marked the trike’s glass with a chalk or sth while the koyang driver handed him some coins… five or three pesos, I can’t be sure.

Convo in italics occurred in my mind.

Me (to mum): Tonaa oto? (What was that?)
Mum: Tax.
Me: Tax? So that’s how the PUVs pay their taxes? And just worth less than a hundred pesos?
Mum: Kotong…
Me: …

We finally made our way through the narrow street and the koyang driver told us that he can only drive us that far… ‘coz another tax collector is lurking around.

Mum: Kataya dn pman siran. (Here they are again.)
Koyang Driver: Giya dn ei miyasuwa a Marawi. (This is what Marawi has become.)
Mum: Mga walay ulaw. (These guise has no sense of shame.)

When we were outta the trike,

Mum: Che~ Di siran galebek ka tomitindug bu saya na palaya dn a psagad a motor na pkuwaan iran sa perak! (Why don’t they look for a job instead of lurking around here and collecting people’s taxes?!)

When we were walking ourselves further, I saw two guise (prolly of my age) talking to another one… one of the two was reaching his palm open to the lone guy. I don’t know. I ain’t sure, but they seemed to be bullies. (Judgmental much? XD) When we walked past them, I felt like beating the two guys with the umbrella I was holding. Lumalabas pagkalalake ko nito eh! XD

And tadaaaaa! We were already in the wet market proper, the home of usury & nonsense mingling with the opposite gender.

This is what Marawi has become. Marawi that proclaims that it is the Islamic City of the Philippines. Yeah, sure. Islamic City that does not even bow down before Shari’ah.

And lemme share to you a short Maranao film, entitled Margas (Rice). When I’ve watched it few weeks ago, chong. I’ve always known that there are pretty disgusting people in this place, but I never had a gauge of the scale of the stuff. Video after the jump.

when I’m alone in a trike, then a guy goes para-ing it

MANO, PLEASE. NOOOOHOHOHOOOOOO

when Mano gives the guy a ride

OH EM GEE

when the guy rides behind Mano

Yeay! THANKS!

when the guy sits beside me

HOLY CRAP. SANDWICHED!!!

when the guy sits like a boss

Pare. Dude. Chong. Kung itulak kaya kita para mahulog ka sa labas? KASOSYAL NIM!!!

I want a day to come when LSS stops standing for Last Song Syndrome, and will then mean Last Surah Syndrome like a boss. \m/