To the readers of this blog, I may appear like an emotionally imbalanced, sex depraved megalomaniac who is presently thrilled he finally got to use “megalomaniac” in a sentence. And that is partly right. I’m not that thrilled about using megalomaniac in the previous sentenced. Happy, but not thrilled. Anyway, emotional and psychological problems aside, I am generally under control and is not a danger to anybody. Except Shih Tzus.
But still, it came as a surprise to me when I was told I needed to submit an NBI clearance for some office thing. By my boss. To those just tuning in, I work for the family business (well, at least until they discover my blog), and my boss just happens to be my mother.
So why would she require me to submit to her my NBI clearance? Is it because I stole my baby sister’s blanket when she was kid? Or the fact that I may have been partly responsible for the unalphabetized betamax tapes in my dad’s porno collection? Or is she still mad about the time she went home and found that all her stockings, make up, and dresses have been used and there was nobody else in the house except for me? In any case, no amount of reasoning would get me out of the painful process of getting an NBI clearance.
Anyway, since I had no choice, I headed to Quezon City Hall to get this ordeal over with. The sight that greeted me brought into mind words like “chaos,” and “fucking.” Also for some reason “racoon.”
Quezon City Hall
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