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I went to UP Diliman yesterday (1) to attend the Sunday afternoon mass and (2) to get a haircut. I boarded the UP Jeepney at SM North, readied my 5 peso coin and sat comfortably on the space closest to the door. When the driver received my coin, he dropped the bomb. The fare from SM to UP is now P5.50. Since when? I don't know.

I went first to the UP Shopping Center and went straight ahead to the barber shop housing the barber who's been cutting my hair since year 2000. He is responsible for the neat school boy hair I've been proudly sporting (and messing up with mousse) all these times. He's the only one who could give me the kind of front spike and semi-long semi-sideburns but not really sideburns i like. He's the only one who knows the right length, the right thickness, etc. For more than three years, I trusted him with my hair like I trusted him with my life. Oh not really. Harhar.

To my and my hair's horror, he doesn't work there anymore. His "barbershopmates" said he went home to his province.

That explains my really bad haircut. My hair is so bad that when Mark and his girlfriend saw and greeted me yesterday at UP, I just gave them a quick wave and I scrammed quickly to the church.

Lessons learned: (1) Some barbers are not just worth my trust. (2) The only remedy to a bad haircut is to make believe it's the best haircut youve ever had in your life.

I took a quiz somewhere. Here's what it reveals about me.
You are Kermit the Frog.
You are reliable, responsible and caring. And you
have a habit of waving your arms about

"Hi ho!" "Yaaay!" and
"How Green Was My Mother"

"Surfin' the Webfoot: A Frog's Guide to the

Sitting in the swamp playing banjo.

"Hmm, my banjo is wet."

What Muppet are you?
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