Postcards from the third world: Postal ID
Ignore that photo. Damnnnn I look
like a fat jailbait retarded. That shit is soo old I can’t be bothered to take a new one. I went through hell fire and back just to get one of these cheap-ass laminated IDs that is oh so third world.
Click click click!
According to the clerk I spoke to at the bank, Postal IDs are pretty much acceptable if I don’t have a driver’s license. I called the post office yesterday and all I need was my community tax certificate (cedula) and a barangay clearance/proof that I live where I live so it was all piss easy.
Our local post office is located in the 2nd floor of this filthy market.
I was soo scared to go inside that dingy place at first but you know what, a girl’s gotta do what a girl gotta do. Besides, it’s all safe and good; contrary to what people think of ghetto ass places, most people are relatively harmless.
As soon as I walked inside the post office EVERYONE as in ALL the post office peasants stared at me as if I’m the messiah. It was fun!!! A couple of old ladies there told me I’m soo pretty, as in "ang ganda mo naman". O diba? Beat that!
With all that
unwanted attention and all those eyes focused on me, it’s perfectly natural for me to strut my fat ass inside.
That’s exactly what I did… people stare… put on a show.. make it worth their while. HAHAHAHA!
I went to 3 different rooms just to get my postal ID sorted out.
When I got there, the tranny offered her chair so that I’m "comfortable" blah blah blah. It’s quite evident that she recognized supremacy… I don’t blame her. It’s not my fault that I’m soo fucking pretty. HAHAHA! Just kidding.
I don’t want special treatment and she got that chair first so I politely refused.
God forbid what sort of bacteria and disease she’s got up her ass…
Just kidding!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M NOT MEAN, PROMISE!!!!!!
I appreciate her gesture but really, I don’t mind standing for a few minutes. It’s not like I’m gonna die if I don’t park my ass somewhere. There’s a word for it but I don’t know what it is in english — HINDI AKO MAARTE.
The tranny and the old ladies asked me all sorts of questions when I filled out these nasty forms. YES, for the 75490765798696789637th time, I got the crazy "are you a celebrity" (artista ka ba) question.
I swear to god, every time I go to bitch ass places, people ask me that nasty question. It’s fun but it really is annoying.
I’ll be honest. I don’t want to be on the same level as those "artistas"/celebrities they see in third world TV. I have my head far up my own ass and I like to think of myself as more supreme compared to them so when people ask me whether I’m a third world celebrity or not, they are pretty much insulting my character. God I’m soo full of myself I love it.
Chaka Khan is that chu?
Or better yet, Malu Fernandez is that chu?
No offense to third world celebrities who read my blog. I just don’t like it when people think of me as a celebrity. Right from the start I’ve always said I’m not a celebrity and I certainly don’t see myself as one so there. Besides, I’m really not THAT pretty.
Here’s the fun part.
They had all these questions on the form like your height, complexion, hair colour, eye colour, etc. I hate these things. I feel like a fuckin lab rat/nazi concentration camp person for scientific experiments etc.
The tranny and all the old ladies wrote "brown" as their complexion. I was like fuckthat shit, I don’t even know what my real skin colour is anymore because I’m addicted to self-tanners so "tan" is what I wrote on the form. It’s better than brown, no? HAHAHAHAHHAA!
Thank god they didn’t ask my weight. I’m soo paranoid when it comes to these forms; I don’t want to lie about my weight. Can you imagine the embarassment if I wrote 95 pounds on the form and then they’d make me go on a weighing scale to find out that I’m 115 pounds?
Fast forward a few minutes later, I realized all these height/complexion/hair colour/eye colour is nothing but a crock of shite so I charmed my way with the post office lady to add an extra inch on my height, you know, for personal satisfaction.
The post office lady wagged her finger at me but she said she’ll only make this exception once because I’m pretty. In third world monkey language: "o sige na, maganda ka kasi". I LOVE IT!!!!!!!! IT’S AMAZING WHAT THE POWER OF BEAUTY CAN DO!!!!!
And there you have it.
One ID down, another ID to go.
I need to figure out a way to convert my old cardboard social security card into one of them new plastic cards. I spoke to a lady there and they told me it takes about a month and a half before I get one in the mail.
Let’s see what MY beauty can do if I go to their office. Surely there must be someone in the government who you can give a blowjob to get what you want, no?
Email me and tell me you love me. My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org.
I love you all, as always.
PS. Why don’t you take a photo so it will last longer?