Pop Thug

Perfect head-trip.

They go perfectly well together.

Hindi bawal uminom ng white wine bago uminom ng Bad Trip.

Sa Italianni’s.

Dwight kennot hit no jump shot.

I am writing now in celebration of my first NBA Live 10 victory at Superstar level, playing with the Orlando Magic against a stubborn AI-controlled Dallas Mavericks.

I would like to note that Marv Albert called Dwight Howard a shooter; it happened after a fluke from mid-range (don’t blame me, the shot clock was running down).

During an earlier attempt, I could not contain Dirk Nowitzki. In my winning effort, I used Marcin Gortat to force him into foul trouble.

During that same earlier attempt, I could not contain Jason Kidd, who was hitting far too many three-pointers than he could in real life. In my winning effort, I put Rashard Lewis on him all night.

I almost failed to mention that I was down by two points with less than 20 seconds left in the game.

With the clock winding down, I had Lewis pass the ball to Jameer Nelson who let fly from beyond the three-point range. “Boom goes the dynamite,” I thought I heard some dumb sportscaster say.

Spent last night at Amber Ultralounge for the continuation of Gelo’s celebration: yes, it’s just a huge lounge with people just walking around, trying to get drunk.

It's the C2 Man himself!

Just kidding. I haven’t been to the Fort Strip in a long, long time and I’m surprised to see new places have opened up shop. There’s a new burger place, a couple of new bars, and a couple of newly-renamed ones, too. Baket?

Mike, Kat, Vi, and me.

Fun night. Thanks to Gelo and the rest of last night’s company. It was great, but it would’ve been better if I got drunk, too (my fault, I’ve been too loyal to San Miguel, damn it).