Living in the Philippines as the only son of a semi devout Muslim mother and paleontologist father has been a challenging experience. I have had to struggle in my home town of Sexmoan to fit in with the rural farmers, I have been waylaid many a time on dark and lonley nights and beaten viciously with Kali sticks and Kuntao staffs, ravaged about the face and buttocks with their steely bamboo malayu sibats and finally rolled into the smelly drainage ditch. This has only made me stronger, I love my country and my town.
As my body is able to withstand the savage beatings handed out to me by the Filipino farmers so is my defense able to withstand your pathetic attacks.
As the angry Filipino farmers lash out at me with their cruel pain sticks, so will I lash out unflinchingly with furious attacks of my own.