Boycott

https://twitter.com/guampartosa/status/1539085547846504448?t=2orc_WutBsrcDxdNhuztSQ&s=19
https://twitter.com/guampartosa/status/1539085553961799680?t=acdDUqfUmPn2ADE3cWw06w&s=19

If I only knew 😀

I would never support enablers. I’ll stop going to Pinto; there are other galleries out there.

I just learned Dr. Cuanang is also the doctor who issued the questionable medical opinions for Gremlin a.k.a. Gloria Macapagal Arroyo to escape prosecution. No wonder this doctor has a lot of money; he serves the biggest crooks in the world.

Twin I inside one of the galleries of Pinto Art Museum, the first time they went there when they were 4 years old Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I had been chatting on Telegram yesterday with a friend, who taught me the mantra, “All is well. All is well,” whenever bad thoughts about the past come to invade my head. He told me that not all men are like my exes so I shouldn’t lump together all men under one category.

Well, I told him, I will only change my opinion of men if I meet creatures of their sex that are the opposite of my exes. But as far as I’m concerned, all of them are the same (sorry friend, that includes you). He got pissed, of course, since he was cheated on by his gf who slept with his officemate. πŸ˜‘

Why is that my friends and I are in this predicament? Because we’re nice? Maybe we shouldn’t play nice anymore. It’s a dog-eat-dog world anyway. The nice ones die quickly.

This friend got depressed for two months and just got out of this funk this year (the cheating happened last year) and he told me I had dwelt too long in my grief. I said this is precisely the reason why I went to a shrink so I can get out of this clinical depression alive. I was too late in consulting a professional (already 8 months after the fact) that’s why it got protracted.

And I pointed out to him that his ex-gf didn’t send him a painting to destabilize him like mine did. The friend did acknowledge that the ex-gf was not as cruel as my ex.


Hah, it’s already 10:34 pm I’m still working on an energy story. Being workaholic makes me dull. I haven’t drawn anything in weeks. This is what it is like having your ass always on the line. I have back-to-back calls tomorrow with the sales team and then in the afternoon, I need to talk to one of my people to tell him that our bid for his promotion wasn’t granted. So I needed to push him further to improve his stats so I can make another attempt by end of the year to push for his promotion.

Meanwhile, I needed to handhold the newest member of the team because of her language issues and she isn’t used to the Western-style journalism, so I need to co-write her stories until she gets the hang of it. If I don’t do it, she will be kicked out by end of the year. I keep on losing people due to language issues and/or not being able to cope with Western standard journalism.

As my former APAC editor told me, the hardest bureau to run in Southeast Asia.

I will campaign for another raise for me by end of the year because of the headaches I’m having.