-=(Sagien)=-

Oh Where Have You Gone

It's been awhile, I know. For that I am sorry. The daily grind didn't come to a single stop up until now.

Last night, I was able to acquire over 9 hours of sleep. It wasn't "all the way" sleep -- that form of sleep is a rarity for me these days. I think I'd think of it more as slightly-impaired sleep. Kind of like the slightly retarded people of days of past.

The meat of the entry will, of course, be a story. But first let me direct your attention to the very beginning.. Yes, they will start coming back, one at a time, after I've examined their lawsuit-free states. Now, on to the story...

The Second Life

Sagien had two lives. One of them consisted of bottle-cap guns, squatter areas and climbing trees. The other was made up of a Catholic all-boy school run by Brothers who didn't have sex. The Brothers were Caucasian, for the most part.

The fact of the matter is, it didn't stay an all-boy school for long. Sagien enjoyed a period of asexual bliss during third and fourth grades. It was during the fifth grade when the school decided to go co-ed and the opposite sex proliferation began.

At first, they were not very attractive, fat(by Third World Nation standards) specimens of the opposite sex. Not until the sixth grade did the confusion of dealing with the opposite sex begin. Enter Christine Ferrer.

It was folk dance presentation season. Before sixth grade, it consisted of dances that required nothing but males to perform. The introduction of females opened up the floodgates to a whole variety of Filipino dances that involved both members of the sexes.

Sagien was always picked by the teachers to be part of the dance presentation. This was a good thing, because being in the group to compete in a dance presentation meant that he got to skip alot of his classes. Since there were only eight girls in the entire sixth grade at the time, they were all required to participate. Sagien, and all his male compatriots, were made to line up in order of height. The girls were made to do the same. As sagien looked across to meet his counterpart, his eyes met Christine's. Damn, he wanted the girl slightly shorter than her. damn.

Sagien tentatively takes her hand, feeling the soft fingertips of a girl he wasn't related to for the first time in his life. The other girl was much hotter, he thought. He's going to have to spend the next two weeks with this thing. He was going to get teased about it too. He'd much rather play with his G.I. Joes.

The next two weeks, sagien and Christine learned the steps of the folk dance together. Sagien got to enjoy her company as he awkwardly places his feet in the wrong parts of the ground, guided by her delicate hand. Girls are so soft and they smell so good...

Over time, they get the dance steps down perfectly. Sagien knew where to put his feet, when to circle around her, and most importantly, when she was going to put her hand out for him to hold on to. All this while feigning disinterest in the girl next to him.

Sagien's class won the competition that year. Mostly because they had more girls in than any other class. So then it was over. He never said anything, or spent any more time with her than what his dancing responsibilities required. And she was gone. Sagien was in the smart kid class. Being new to the school, she was placed in the average class. It wouldn't be til the seventh grade when she'd be in the same class as him. The year he was to leave.

From the time the dance competition was over until Sagien's last day in the Philippines, Christine stayed aloof. She didn't want to get teased either. On that day, she came up to Sagien.

"So you're leaving forever, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am."

"Aww.." and she walked away.

Gather Round the Campfire

It's time for another story from my childhood in a third world nation.

If you guys like this one, I'll start digging even deeper for more stories to tell. Keep in mind that my memory from when I was in my prepubescent years is a bit fuzzy, and I've had to embellish a little.

But there's more nasty words to say in Filipino in this entry, so I'm sure you won't complain.

The Assault on the J&L Compound

It's always a bright sunny day in the summer time. Today was no different.

Sagien felt pretty good today. He was rather proud of the arsenal he's assembled. Everyone in his little posse was well armed. Everyone's built their very own bottle cap slinging assault rifle. It was almost like a rite of passage to build one's own, like a Jedi would build his own lightsaber.

In addition to the massive collection of bottle-cap rifles, his brother has built himself something much more menacing. Using the same rubber elastic technology in the bottle cap guns, he's fitted a meter long piece of wood with much thicker rubber. Some serious leverege was necessary to pull the rubber three quarters of the way down the length of the stick. This monstrosity didn't fire bottle caps. Its ammunition consisted of something much more menacing and plentiful: it fired rocks.

His brother was nowhere in sight during this beautiful tropical day, and neither was the rock rifle. He couldn't be bothered to hang out with sagien and his childish whims, no. Today, he's on the roof of the three story apartment building, trying to shoot down birds.

Sagien, on the other hand, was busy with his newest addition to his arsenal. He and his friends found an abandoned truck battery. They skillfully broke the top off, dumped the acid out, washed it out with a garden hose, and dumped their impressive collection of bottlecaps into it. So far, he's counted about two hundred and fifty caps. Plenty to wage war with... but with who?

Suddenly, out of the sky, came a slipper, landing menacingly at his foot. He looked up. The shot came from the roof deck of the building adjacent to their apartment: the J&L office building. Standing atop it are his mortal enemies.

"Bruha!" yelled sagien, pointing skywards. Bruha was the nickname of a girl who's real name has long since forgotten. The word translates to "hag" or "witch." Bruha and her brothers lived on the roof deck of the J&L building. Much like squatters, but welcomed there, for her parents were the caretakers of the building.

Sagien fires off a shot, which ricochets harmlessly off the building's wall. Bruha and her siblings' heads pop out of hiding, realizing that sagien has missed, as he often does. They start cheering, triumphant in getting a rise out of the warrior on the grounds below.

Infuriated, sagien assembles his assault party:

Bon-bon, hailing from the converted garage to the east.

Norman, the curiously gay ten year old, emerging from the cross-dresser driven tailor/barbershop/dentist office on the same block that sagien lives on.

Mark, who lives in the corner of the warehouse grounds. His hut uses the corner of the property's wall as two of its walls.

He even found his brother, who refuses to use the awesome power of the rock thrower against other humans. He opted for a bottle-cap gun.

The band gathers, with sagien taking the point. They stand at the mouth of the office building, staring at the flight of steps going upwards. Sagien walks in first.

Whap!

A slipper comes hurtling from above, narrowly missing sagien. Sagien lets off a shot into the balcony above and misses. Angered, he charges up the steps, followed by his well trained strike force.

He stops at the corner, looking around it. Office workers were milling about, hopping from the various office spaces set in the building. He reloads his rifle.

"Itota ang ido mo!"

Go fuck your dog. Sagien's dog is dead. They are just taunting him now. A few of the office workers stop and look at the group of kids in assault formation at the stairwell. One of them yells for them to get out.

Bruha suddenly comes out from one of the offices, running towards sagien's direction.

"Good," he thought, "I'll cap the bitch right now."

As she runs past him, about 5 feet away, sagien pulls the trigger.

The bottlecap goes flying, propelled by some significant force from the rubber band. It flies true as it connects with the muddy-faced girls chest. She stops and she begins to cry.

Sagien smiles inwardly in triumph. Mission Accomplished: he's made the little girl cry.

With their leader fallen, the opposing force scatters, coming out of their cover and running in all directions. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.

In a battlefield, a few moments of live combat could seem an eternity. In the end, the office hall was strewn with bottle caps, crying kids, and angry office workers. It was time to get out.

They run back to their home territory, drunk with the pleasure of making tears flow from the eyes of children half their age and only armed by insults.

Today was a good day.

Now Available: Outdoorsman Sagien Action Figure

Trekking through the wilderness, in rugged outdoorsman-like conduct.

Everyone has a place they like to go to where its quiet and if you squint enough, you won't be able to see hints of civilization whatsoever. With asian eyes, squinting is relatively easy for me. For you caucasian types, you might want to get some practice in.

Getting to my "special spot" is no easy task. There are several obstacles that one must conquer in order to get there. Here you see me climbing over some metallic-like natural formation. One can only gaze in wonder at the genius of nature in its creation of naturally tesselating forms...

It was a tough, enduring climb. That's why you white folk need to work out. Being fit and in shape is a naturally occuring phenomenon with us asians. Have you ever seen a fat Asian?

Well.. he probably has white genes in him.

Once you reach the destination, it is a calming sensation to just sit there and relax. It is quiet, and if you learn how to not hear, you won't notice the sounds of cars passing by. It's the little things in life that makes it better.

Not to wander off the beaten path or anything, but I have put together something special to occupy your time. Don't rush through the quiz, and please try not to cheat, you'll feel better afterwards.

This filler episode has been brought to you by: Nature, chainlinked fences, and the letter B.

New Filipino Curse Words!

To some of you, this will be a cool story to read about my childhood, which includes a couple of people I've never talked about before, that I hope to be talking about more in the future.

To the rest of you, you'll probably just like the new Filipino curse words that are in it.

Actually, all of you would probably read it just for the curse words.

Malcolm in the Middle, Starring Sagien as Reece

It was their turf. The scrap metal, the vast open space, the trees, the walls to climb, everything: it was all theirs.

A ten year old sagien lounged lazily, perched on a sturdy tree branch in the neighbor’s sarisa tree. Sarisas were the Filipino version of a cherry, except nobody really put them in cocktails or anything that sagien knew of. All he knew was that this tree was in his turf, and he can spend all day in it if he wants, picking every single ripe sarisa off its branches.

"I'm going to collect more scrap metal," came a voice from below. It belonged to his brother. "You wanna come?"

"Nah, I think I can reach that one ripe one all the way over there."

"You've never been able to reach it before. You're not going to be able to reach it now." Sagien stretches as far as he could, his fingertips inches away from the ripe fruit, but the branch wasn't strong enough to support him and gives way. He frantically finds something to latch on to keep from falling.

"Okay, fine, I'll go with you," he finally gives in "but we're going across the street for it, this whole area is out, we need a new place to get scrap." His brother agrees.

"Let's see if Bon-bon wants to come." Bon-bon was the son of the chauffer of the people next door. He lived in a converted garage with his parents and his sister in the back of their boss' property. Their dwelling consisted of two rooms, one for living, and the other for sleeping. Bon-bon was a good friend to the brothers and he always comes along.

"I better take this with me," declared sagien, picking up a homemade rifle that fired bottle caps propelled by a rather thick band of rubber elastic "You never know what we're gonna run into in the squatters." They picked up Bon-bon, who was more than happy to ditch his chores for some adventure.

The area sagien had in mind for searching was the squatter area across the street from where they lived. They rarely crossed this road because it was quite busy. With an absence of traffic lights in the city, all there was to control the traffic was a solitary policeman gesturing to oncoming cars in the middle of the intersection. He barely had enough wits about him to direct the traffic, let alone mind three prepubescent boys attempting to cross a busy intersection.

Waiting for the opportune moment to run across, the boys make it to the other side relatively unscathed. Sagien checked his pockets to make sure he had enough bottle caps for ammo before proceeding. This was, after all, uncharted territory to sagien. It was probably not so for his wandering brother, but he wanted to be sure just in case. He nodded to the others that he was ready. He noticed that he was the only one armed in the group.

They walked a few blocks to where the "entrance" of the squatter area was. It was nothing more than an open field, a few yards wide, with two foot blades of grass growing in patches. In areas where nothing grew were puddles of muddy water, breeding mosquito larvae. At the other edge of the field were huts made of cardboard, propped up against a ten foot wall made of hollow-blocks. Those huts were to be the venue for their exploration.

Scrap metal was a valuable commodity, and not just for kids. Everyone in the squatter area had little or no money, and they did whatever they can to provide for their families. Collecting scrap metal was one way. One could trade in the metal for some cash, enough to buy a can of sardines and some rice. In the case of sagien and his brother, they want the money from the scrap metal trade to play video games. To hell with these smelly squatter folk.

Halfway across the field, a child ran up to them.

"What are you doing here?" he said. He couldn't have been more than six years old. "You're not supposed to be here."

Sagien didn't say a word. He lifts his bottle cap rifle and aims it at the child’s forehead. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t more than a foot away from the kid. He pulls the trigger. The bottle cap zips from its precarious perch, turning all the potential energy it has stored into slightly annoying, stinging kinetic energy. That is, if it actually hit the intended target. The projectile went sailing harmlessly through the squatter child’s hair, barely grazing his scalp. It didn't hurt the child, but it was enough to get him crying, while running to his cardboard domicile petrified.

"Bilat ibay," curses Bon-bon in what would translate to him calling sagien a son of a bitch. "I'm getting out of here."

Sagien's brother shakes his head and goes with Bon-bon. "That kid probably has big brothers bigger than you."

Sagien reloads his rifle, rather proud of himself, and slings the gun over his shoulder. "Nah, I'm not worried," he declared. He was rather annoyed at the cowardice of his brother and his friend, he was looking forward to mountains of scrap metal, waiting to be weighed and sold. They've already gone through all of their grandfather’s tools and weren’t allowed near them ever again. They needed a new source.

"Fine, maybe next time then," sagien gave in, walking behind the other two back to their accustomed surroundings. He was looking forward to lounging in his sarisa tree again. He thought about perhaps perfecting the firing trajectory of his bottle caps while he sat up there.

After they've gone about a block after crossing the intersection, a deep voice reverberates from behind them.

"Hoy!"

Sagien turned around. It was two guys, he estimated probably about 13 years of age. Because of his superior non-squatter diet, he was just about as big as they were. Bon-bon runs away. His brother stayed at his side.

"I want you to apologize for shooting my brother," one of the guys said.

"Fuck you, I'll fight you," said sagien.

"Dude, just say you're sorry," said sagien's brother, annoyed at sagien's stubbornness.

"I can take him," said sagien.

"It's not worth it."

Sagien swings his fist at his "adversary" trying to catch him by surprise. It didn't work. The guy ducked under his punch.

"I don't want to fight you, I just want an apology."

Sagien swings again. The punch got dodged again.

"I really don't want to fight."

"Kick his ass," his companion was trying to egg him on.

"Yeah why don't you fight you pussy," said sagien and he swings again. This time he connects. What happened next came as a shock.

Sagien got slapped.

"I told you so," said his brother.

He gets slapped again.

"You're so stupid sometimes," his brother relented.

Sagien tries to swing back, but his punch gets dodged. As he stumbles across the sidewalk, unbalanced from his missed punch, his opponent steps on his flip-flip slipper, breaking one of the straps off and almost lands sagien on his face in the cement. He quickly regains his balance, but not before the other guy has grabbed his own slipper and slapped him with it.

Now, sagien was mad. His face was probably red from the slaps he'd received, but the marks can't be seen because of the mud that came from the other kid's slipper. He tries to swing again, but this time his brother restrains him.

"He's sorry," he said to the two guys. Sagien breaks away, crying, to go back upstairs to his family's apartment.

It was their turf. The scrap metal, the vast open space, the trees, the walls to climb, everything: it was all theirs.

ISSF Orders Another Season of Sagien

After a successful Sweeps Season of ISSF/Sagien, ISSF brings more of Sagien to its audience.

Sagien brings the Saga to a majestic, touching close last month, moving tens of readers and bringing them closer into his life.

We catch up with him today at the ISSF press conference, performing a lame Hadoken fireball trick with what seems to be his crappy digital camera.

Q: What the hell are you doing?

Sagien: I do things like this when I'm bored. I believe it was called a Hadoken Fireball.

Q: It looks like you're holding a camera and taking the picture while the flash is going off.

Sagien: well I was going to photoshop it to look all red and shit, and badass. Sortof like a triumphant thing, but I suck at photoshop. And if I was going to photoshop something, it'd more than likely be me standing on the back of a rickshaw, like i just won the presidential election. But, I can't do things like that.

Q: What is the point of these pictures?

Sagien: its mostly because I don't have any other pictures to put up. And its to show that I got a haircut, but instead of being some lame idiot just standing there with shorter hair, I thought I'd make some action shots.

Q: Didn't you get your haircut after you got ridiculed by your exgirlfriend after the lent post? (which wasn't funny by the way)

Sagien: no

Q: thats not what your girlfriend said

Sagien: you gave you permission to link her!?

Q: I'm you, dude.

Sagien: HAH! SHOOORYUUKEN!

Q: was that satisfying? You've wasted bandwidth with shitty pointless pictures.

Sagien: Don't you have any real questions?

Q: didn't you say you had an announcement to make?

Sagien: Oh yes. Thanks for reminding me. Okay. I have been working alot lately, and its pretty tiring, and normally, due to the nature of the country I was from, I'm a pretty frickin lazy guy. I like sleeping in and sitting around all day in my boxers if I do wake up. I'd also like to try out that world of warcraft game. I heard you need to be practically unemployed for that, so I haven't had a chance to.

But now, due to my superior financial strategery skills, I can quit both my jobs and do exactly what I want to do. I am going to start blogging full time.

Q: kinda like that dude you just linked? Who's going to give you money? You don't do anything on this site. You tell your shitty life story, post some shitty pictures... I mean, you don't even conform to your winning format anymore before you got fired.

Sagien: who told you you could like that douchebag?

Q: I'm you, dude. And how are you doing this, donations through paypal?

Sagien: You can show your support here.
Q: You're a fuckin idiot.