After my day-long stint at the office yesterday, I went to Villamor driving range to rescue Mitch who was post processing his photos (not into golf, whew) while our friend Nikkon was having his own roller-coaster fun doing amateur (premature) golf. After our usual debate, we decided to have dinner somewhere and leave Nikkon to his devices. We decided to hit SM Bicutan since we were already on our way home, but on the way decided to have dinner in his home instead. Since his mom cooks with restaurant quality I was the first one to agree.
On our way to the village Mitch did a nasty deed. He loves to pester me by releasing his "ghastly" (Gas-tly) weapon while we're inside the car. Good thing I was driving and I controlled the windows. I've experienced worse as a passenger. Unfortunately when I put the windows down the scent outside of Merville, all the way to Raya Gardens, didn't help at all. In fact, it was FATAL. It's a scent of canal, mixed with age long trash and some poo. We hurriedly closed the window and it somehow morphed his own FART to times 10. I started to lose my cool.
"You and your fart mixed with all of these scents burst into a fatal orchestration of deadly FARTI-cles in the air!"
Then silence, and silly, hysterical laugh afterwards.
Did I just say FARTICLES?
I am quite aware of the Filipino Speech Syndrome of P and F, but I always keep myself in check not to fall into that trap. I think I can pride myself for people having comfort in me not to mix these up. Hearing a speech full of conviction with the P and F syndrome is just too much for my EGO.
I just ended up laughing as it would tread down to the book of boo-boo's.
FARTI-CLES?? What was I thinking?