At this point in time, a lot of people are already galit with this section. Ang dami nang natamaan. Ang dami nang umiyak, nagwala, nag-isip na sana it�s over already and I�m not in school anymore so the people won�t hate me and why are they picking on me there are a million people out there doing worse things than I am and screwing up more than I do and I do not deserve this kind of treatment, is it my fault that I was worthless when my parents gave birth to me, etc., etc., etc. Okay, you can breathe now. Before you die of suffocation and before you become uto-uto and read everything here without breathing, I am going to tell you something. Something very important. I will tell you na. Basta it remains a secret, ha? Secret! Secret! Secret! Swear to God? Hope to die? Promise, promise, promise? Okay. After you have crossed yourself and sealed your lips with masking tape, read on.

In order to write a good editorial, you must have a central point, a point that you send across to the readers. You should impart thoughts. You should be heard. But wait a minute. Do I have thoughts? Do I want to be heard? Is the sky blue? Are all roses red? Of course not. There are yellow, blue, white�Is the sky blue?

The point of this argument is that the argument has no point. Wait, what was my point again? Do I have a point in the first place? This is a pointless thing to do. Why am I still doing it?

Okay, okay, okay. I digress. Start over again. Like nothing happened. Let�s be friends na lang. It�s better that way. Oh sige ba. Basta ikaw. Anytime, anywhere. Friends.

Hay naku. Grabe talaga. I don�t understand what I want to say. Basta I�m saying na lang whatever comes to mind. Is the space filled up yet? Not yet? But I�m lazy na. I�ll greet na lang the people I know para mapuno ang space.

Binabati ko ang nanay, tatay, kuya, ate, lola, lolo, and my parents, too. Nay, Tay, sunduin niyo na ho ako sa Eye to Eye. Ayoko na kay Inday Badiday. Hindi na ako lalakuwatsa sa Megamall. I�ll stay home na lang and watch Kris Aquino everyday. I will even listen and attend every Central Bored meeting plus listen to all of Ken�s (the boyfriend of Barbie) speeches. Pleeaase. Just get me outta here!

Is random access easy? Is easy access random? We may never know. Inevitably, most Loyola Lampoon Opinion columns turn into weird streams of consciousness, where writers release all their repressed thoughts, or just try to fill up space with meaningless, funny-sounding rambling. I will try not to fall into that trap. Really I won�t. Even if I do have something like four columns to fill. That�s a lot of columns, you know. Four. A lot of columns. Four is a lot of columns. Ahem. In any case, we were talking about this column, my opinion column which I�m not supposed to fill with all sorts of utterly useless, space-filling rambling and babbling about nothing in particular. Wait first. I want to go off on a tangent. * * * Shortly after naming my column Random Access, I remember seeing an opinion column in another university paper � a greener campus paper � with a remarkably similar name: Easy Access. What a coinky-dink, don�t you think? Oh, well. Basta, ako ang original ha? Hee hee hee... �Easy Access.� Am I being egotistical? * * * As you can see, more than half of the text from my column in the original, print version of the Lampoon is no longer here. Since I am no longer under pressure to fill up page space, I decided to remove it, since it really wasn't funny, and I'm too lazy to make up more jokes. What's that? You want more? Click ka na lang dito. You'll get more.

My column tag is in Latin. I was the first editor to come up with this idea, and not some pseudo-artistic egotist from section B. Of course, my column tag is a lot more difficult to understand, which makes mine better. Ha! You hear that, you self-proclaimed theater critic? My column happens to be the most inspiring piece of opinionated writing in this poor excuse of a lampoon. This issue�s not even funny. Maybe it�s because the one in charge isn�t funny. Maybe Guidon editors aren�t funny in the first place. (Ed. -- Screw you, Dave.) Why not print old chess columns? I don�t even see why I had to come up with this crummy column. Why do I have to write for the Lampoon? Don�t people enjoy chess columns in this school anymore? Don�t get me wrong. I love chess columns. They make real great space-fillers. I�m sure the graphic-design people appreciate that. I mean, don t you just love the excitement inherent in a game where two people are mentally slugging it out? Maybe next year, the Glutaphos people can come up with a Battle Chess tournament for those of us who can't stand the interminable silences in between chess moves. Boy, the things you do to fill up space. I sure hope none of you are reading this. Why do we even bother? We don�t even get paid. Stipends would be a better word. Well, at least we don�t have to pretend to work to make our bosses happy. After all, we�re doing it for free. What�s left to gripe about? Let�s not even talk about my love life. This isn�t a gossip column. Besides, I�m not bitter about not having a girlfriend. So what if my co-editors have flourishing relationships? Mamamalasin din ang mga iyan. As for me, wala akong proproblemahin. I�m going to spend Valentine�s alone. No ourtageous expenses for flowers or chocolates. I can spend all that money on myself. What? This column isn�t finished yet? I ve been writing all this drivel for the past hour and I�m still not at the end of it? If you think it s a real chore reading this part of the paper, what about me? Don�t you know it takes a lot of talent and effort to write trash like this? Of course, my friend the theater critic always manages to turn out excellent trash every time his column comes out. He must be really talented. I think he actually is, you know. What�s the point of this column? It�s a crime in some countries to bombard the public with such inanities. Okay. Here�s my point. I didn�t write this. Somebody else did, just so they could fill up a tiny corner of the opinion pages. Besides, what�s written here is absolutely pointless. That�s why they call this issue the Lampoon.

THE BARRYMAN IS HERE TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS ON LIFE, LOVE, AND BADUY MUSIC! JUST SEND YOUR QUESTIONS FROM THE FEEDBACK PORTION OF THE LAMPOON ONLINE! NOW, WHY IS THIS TEXT PINK?

Dear BarryMan, I have a crush on this girl talaga. As in, she�s so pretty and cute. It�s like, I can�t smile without her. I can�t laugh, I can�t sing. I�m finding it hard to do anything! What should I do, BarryMan? What should I do? Is there a gayuma you know? It�s like, I�m so desperate na, eh! I�ve even considered eating chicken-shit! Di ba? Effective daw �yon sabi ni Manang Biday! Please BarryMan, I need your advice. Miguelito Uhugin Dear Miguelito, Chicken-na-chicken ang solution to your problem! And you don�t even need to eat chicken-shit! The solution: haranahin mo siya! Tell her that somewhere down the road, you know that heart of hers will come to see, that she belongs with me! Ah, este you. Gets! Dear Kuya Barry, Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, my Tamagotchi has died! My Tamagotchi is a mini-duck. She started out as just a little balut egg. But when she hatched, I fell in utter, absolute love with the little darling! So I named her Mandy. No, not after the Comm Dept Mandy we all know and love. I was inspired by Mahatma Gandhi, so I got a name that rhymed. (Maybe I should have named her Womandy, dahil babae siya, but I guess Mandy kind of stuck.) Anyway, I put Mandy in my back pocket during my Philo class. While she was there, I shook my leg, like I always do when I sit down in Philo class listening to Fr. David. Barry, everytime my knee vibrated I was pressing the FEED button for my Tamagotchi. My leg was shaking for over an hour! When I heard her beeping later on, I looked at my dearest Tamagotchi, and she was so fat she filled up the LCD display. Then she died! What do I do, Barry? My poor, poor, Mandy! Oh, Mandy! When you came and you gave without taking! And I overfed you! Oh, Mandy! When you kissed me and stopped me from shaking. Oh, Mandy! OH, MANDY! I miss you so much already. Lumpita Peligrosa Sy Dear Lumpy, You reallly sound so pathetic. Who cares about your tanga-gotchi? Not me. I suppose you just had the right love at the wrong time. I would normally recommend that you just press the reset button and give your plastic pet a better name. But in your case, I think you need special professional help. Did you know that in Japan, there are psychologists who do nothing but counsel people whose tamagotchis have died? No, I�m not saying you should see one. I�m saying you�re as bad as one. I don�t have any more advice to give you. Just watch this great cartoon called Pocket Monsters na lang. Baka ma-convulsions ka pa. And don�t you dare call me Kuya.

Dear BarryMan, Her name was Lola. She was my Grandma. But I can�t find her now. Where should I look? Lolo Thunder Dear Lolo, Ugh. That really sounds gross. Have you tried Cocapabana? If not there, why not Batangas? Dear BarryMan, Ikaw ba�y nalulungkot at nag-iisa? Walang kasama�t walang makausap? Kailangan mo ba ng isang kaibigan? Tumawag sa 1277-62561. Tayo�y maglibingan, este, maglibangan. Siguraduhin lang na ika�y nasa tamang edad ng labinwalong taon pataas. Sige, tumawag ka na. Maningga Lakandulera Dear Maningga, Ako po�y nasa tamang edad. So, I called the number, at sabi ng operator, �You have reached the journalist�s home.� Di bale na lang. Well, we�re graduating this year. So get your kicks out of calling me Barry now, you insane fools! �Cause when I�m gone, who�ll be your Barry Manilow lookalike then, eh? Eh? DO YOU THINK THE LAMPOON IS CORNY? WELL, HERE'S YOUR CHANCE TO TELL US SO! CAN YOU FIND THE MYSTERY FEEDBACK LINK? PICK THE RIGHT LINK, AND YOU CAN SEND ME ALL THE HATEMAIL YOU WANT! BUT PICK THE WRONG ONE, AND ... UH... BASTA, GANOON. BWAHAHAHA!!! FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK FEEDBACK