Marriage is something I do not see in the next five years. As long as the mighty conqueror can still stand on its own, the banner of singlehood will e’r remain. But if you're biologically attached to a person (to whom which I will refer to as mom from this point forward), you can never argue. You argue, you're dead. You don't, you're still dead. Either way, she wins. You see, my mom’s getting old. Or so she thinks. To her, part of getting old is probably the fear of not getting to see her son’s future kids, which is probably why this person I am starting to doubt to be as my mom is getting all excited every time she would see someone she likes.
So while she was on her way to Cebu for a vacation, she met this girl – a flight attendant named Tish. And since my mom is a cam-whore (sorry for the lack of a better term), the mother took this picture. Yes, she’s pretty, skin’s as radiant as my armpits, and looks mabango. She looks like she can even wash my underwear, do the dishes, and cook food attend to my personal “needs”. No doubt she’s a woman every perverted guy can ever dream of. Please agree.
But, mom, if you got lost or you got pretty bored in the office and you happen to be reading this, Tish is waaaaay beyond my expectations. I know you’re looking for someone who’s pretty and someone who can potentially save the face value of our bloodline but the person you call your son has other things in mind. Do not worry. Do not cry. Do not do anything stupid. You will soon meet her. You want a dozen grandchildren? That's easy. And to her, if you’re reading this, please. Contrary to my mom’s popular belief -- for the love of God -- I can still promise you
Go ahead. Take this chance. Submit to my mom's demands. I'm for sale.
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