I call this post: Hindi po ako artista [BGmusic: the hum of my roommate's PC]
When people get compared to celebrities, there are three possible reactions:
- Delight – “Wow! Mukha akong artista! Yehey! Ang saya!”
- [Not-so-mild] Annoyance – “Say that one more time and I swear I will do everything in my power to make you [PICK: unable to have any children / run crying to your momma / wish you were never born / take that back].”
- The Blank Face –
I’m more of a number 2 kind of person. I get compared to celebrities. Too much. Take note that the celebrities I get compared to are usually irritating, and because of the neverending “Kamukha mo si ____”s, they have turned into a bane[s] of my very existence. Want a sure-fire way to get on my nerves? Just compare me to the right wrong celebrities. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy.
When I was brought into this world, I didn’t resemble anyone besides my parents, and maybe a few relatives. The first time I was compared to ______, I was fourteen years old and didn’t even know who she was. Now that I’m at the ripe old age of eighteen, apparentely I look like _______, or ______, or even ______! And the funny thing is, I don’t see [or yes, maybe just refuse to see] the resemblance. To those of you who don’t know what I look like, just think of the Asian Barbie and you’re there. [Yes, I'm kidding.]
Who are those “_____”s? I’m not comfortable with saying their names [because whenever I hear their names I wince - probably some kind of reflex I developed], so here’s their pictures. I edited it a little, of course. Couldn’t help myself.
Bwahahahahahaha. That felt good.
To _____, _____, and ______: I don’t look like you. You may look like me, and if you happen to, you’re very lucky girls, but don’t take the credit. It’s annoying. Thank you.
*Bow*
Pahabol: There is a celebrity I love being compared to: Maggie Q. She’s so hawt. When I grow up, I want to look just like her. [If you know any good, affordable plastic surgeons, you know where to reach me.]
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