See? Told ya. Like, totally, lots of people agree with me. Look, I’m not being, uhm, matapobre. I’m just being frank, excuuuuuse me. A lot of poor people are actually cool. My Yaya Mila is cool, even if I often catch her watching that stupid soap opera where that slutty katulong with the, ohmigod, big eyes is always making landi her prissy Chinese boss. Gross! WTF, right? Plus, I think he’s gay. Did they bone na ba? Just bang the bitch and get it over with. Jeez.
See? They’re not only lazy. They can also be such horny and dumb sluts. Like, how many of them flirt with the tricycle drivers, gardeners, and the chauffers? And the next thing you know, they’re buntis na. Only to find out that they’re just kabits and that the driver has like, a wife and 10 kids pala in the province. Then when they get knocked up, they go home to God knows where their hellhole of origin is; Leyte, or was it Samar, or Cagayan? Then after three or four years, they’ll come back, and all of a sudden, you’re the fucking ninang!
That’s what me and me friends talked about in Urbn last night. The RH Law. As long as these poor people don’t know how to use condoms or don’t know at least how to just spray it in the face (Don’t they watch xvideos.com?), their kind shouldn’t be allowed to multiply. That is exactly the cause of overpopulation in the Philippines. Better sana if the likes of Washington Sycip or Efren Penaflorida or Jeane Napoles – the most sosyal of them all – were the ones to make kalat their genes.
See, overpopulation is the root of many problems- including the breeding of ugly furniture. Ikea and its aesthetics can only come from Sweden. The Philippines has Orocan. Which is better pa siguro, so that their ugly babies can use those basins as inflatable rafts during floods.
The point is, government should regulate the procreation of poor people. They’re not making it sabi straight up, but that RH Law is pure awesomeness. They’re so freaking horny kasi eh! Because they’re really walang magawa, ‘no? And their houses are sooooo tiny. I just wonder how they’re able to get it on in such cramped spaces. How do they do it without the kids-like, 13 or 14 of them-and the grandma and the cousins seeing?
Shouldn’t these people be forced to go back to their home provinces? At least there, they’re free to make the biggest huts they can. Cheap lang naman the palm leaves, ‘di ba? Fresh pa the breeze, so at least they won’t get those kadiri diseases like TB and the ones that make the skin look like tocino. And at least they don’t have to eat that really icky-poo leftover crap they call “pagpag.” At least they can go organic. Like they’re detoxing at The Farm.
I can’t emphasize enough how lazy they are. And it begins with their concept of transportation.
Sooooo, they don’t have cars. Okay. See, poor, carless folks like to play the Royal Highnesses when it comes to that. Nobody wants to walk. How’s that? From the terminal or the jeep or bus stop they want to be taken straight to their doorstep. Which is why tricycles and pedicabs keep flooding our streets. And their, uglier, noisier bastard stepchild: what’s that again, ku-lig-lig?
So jologs kasi how those pedicabs look-you put them against the backdrop of anything, that backdrop instantly becomes cheap, the way anything that has a videoke machine is reduced into an artifact of tackiness. Can you imagine pedicabs zipping through BGC? Might as well put balut vendors and fishball carts outside High Street and Serendra.
So laaaazy! As long as people refuse to walk, Metro Manila traffic will always be yuck. Tricycles and pedicabs are the symbols of the Third World. Do you see them ba in Singapore and Hong Kong? NO! ‘Cause people there know how to walk. And constant walking breeds an energetic, systematic, and productive society. There, bus stops are not just suggestions. Like, they really make para there. Here kasi, you just yell, “Mama, para po” anytime, anywhere and they’ll make tigil and let you off. Like anywhere. Even in the middle of the highway and the thing is going like a hundred KPH, and your car happens to be right behind. Buti na lang, Mang Bert, my driver, has the braking skills of Jason Statham. So multiply them, buses and jeeps, stopping anywhere, anytime they wish, and what’ve you got? More chaos, and a society whose level of agony equates that of Adele handcuffed to a treadmill.
What’s wrong with building more trains? If government was matalino, they would start planning for a kickass railroad network now pa lang. How sosyal would that be, ‘di ba? But there has to be lots of trains, I mean, lots of carriages so that we won’t get siksik like they do now in the MRT. Like, gross! It’s sooo sikip, passengers are like, “We’re exchanging atoms na!”
The problem kasi is that everyone here has a right. Now if they can’t add more trains, at least increase the ticket price to its actual cost, which is like P40 or P50 or something. We’re so used to babying the aw-shucks-pooooor little commuter kasi. Now look-station platforms that look like those kadiri jologs moshpits in Pulp Summer Slam. Instead of taking the bus, everyone-carpenter, yuppie, call-center agent, saleslady, security guard, janitor, fish vendor-now wants to take the goddamn train because it’s faster. I mean, what’s the rush? You’re too important to ride the fucking bus? Why, you’re too good to watch Steven Seagal movies on pirated DVD? Oh, you don’t wanna be late for a corporate presentation? Ah, wait, what’s your job again? Oh, you’re “in between jobs?” Is that another term for…tambay? My deepest apologies, your Royal Highness!