Rum for Rent.

Good morning.

I'm sneaking in; stealing some of the company's office hours. Or maybe not.

I know I promised everyone of you a post about my transportation blues. Let's drop that topic off and move on. Yes, disappointments happen. I lied. Sorry.

What am I babbling now?

Nothing. Really, nothing. Nothing but trivialities, the mundanes, the everyday catastrophes and burdens and tragedies... I'll stop with tragedies, I know you get my point. Sorry. I write like a child crying over a candy or a melted ice cream. Ice cream is kind of candy. Er, Monday morning rants.

I should stop saying sorry. Sorry.

Alright, here we go...

As I was walking my way to the office, (after a jeepney ride from FTI to Waltermart) my attention was caught by two sheets of bond paper. Letters in black ink are stained on them. In bold, and I must say, in daring words put together an advertisement is made.

"RUM for RENT"

At first it wasn't a big deal. I am not interested to rent any rum. Why would I? And then, it hit me. Rum isn't for rent. Why would anybody let somebody rent their rum? Is that earthly possible? And then, another thought hit me; hit me, oh, so hard!

The ad meant ROOM.

R-O-O-M

Dear, heavens! RUM = ROOM

I feel stupid. People should stop mercilessly murdering language, be it in Filipino or English.

Now, we know why we all fall for the cliched "MISUNDERSTANDING" or is it "Miss Understanding"?