I doubt that anyone really wants to be milked. I mean, imagine the awkwardness of a first date when you’ve come up to your date, shook hands, and said, “Hi. My name is so-on-and-so-forth. May I milk your teat?” See? It just doesn’t fly. At the very least, it is uncool.
Apparently that’s not how it goes. It’s more like, “Hi. I will milk you.” Yeah .. yeah. That sounds just about right.
From Mom Exchange from Manila Bulletin Online:
Expectant moms and dads now have something to look forward to with the recent launch of the “Great Expectations Package” at St. Luke’s Medical Center.
For expectant mothers who will be undergoing uncomplicated normal spontaneous delivery, the Great Expectations Package (GEP) offers a two-day ward room stay with the package cost varying according to the following categories: a) under General Anesthesia with rooming-in P40,000; b) under General Anesthesia without rooming-in P41,000; c) under Spinal Anesthesia with rooming-in: P40,000; d) under Spinal Anesthesia without rooming-in: P41,000; e) under Epidural Anesthesia with rooming-in P48,000; f) under Epidural Anesthesia without rooming-in P49,000; and, g) Lamaze Delivery with rooming-in P36,000.
Besides the two-day room and board, the Great Expectations Package also includes: a) service for a maximum of 20 hours labor period; b) three-hour recovery period at the Recovery Room; c) nursery accommodation for up to two days; d) medicines and supplies related to normal delivery starting labor up to the 2nd day; e) Hepatitis B Vaccine, Newborn Screening and the use of Otoacoustic Emission (OAE); and professional fees for the obstetrician, anesthesiologist and pediatrician.
Quality of service and utmost care for the patient have always been the hallmark of St. Luke’s, especially when it comes to mothers and their beloved soon-to-be-born babies.
“The Great Expectations Package recognizes the predicament of many Filipino mothers who may want nothing less than the best for their newborn, but fear that they may not be able to afford it. This package assures them that the services we provide are well within their reach, and they do get value for every hard-earned peso,” said Dr. Marietta Sapaula, St. Luke’s Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology Chairman.
ARGH.
*proceed with gnashing of teeth*
Thanks to Lulubelle for bringing this DILFness to my attention.
First, he lead his Italian team to World Cup glory (without even flinching a muscle during the very tense shootout (don’t let the fact that Pirlo has his arms around Canna diminish the fact that he is a man’s man)) ..
Second, he signed up with one of the most renowned clubs in the football world, Real Madrid
.. And third, he caps off his year by winning the Balon d’Or, becoming the first Italian to be honored since Robert Baggio in 1993.
Bravissimo!
Okay, I admit it. I am a fashion renegade of my generation but I want me some Havaianas. Before you cast me off as a blind follower let me explain. I want me those flipflops for the sole reason that they are comfortable to wear. I’ve been waiting forever for slippers to become socially acceptable to wear in public and the time is more than ripe. I’ve had my share of slippers that I am not ashamed to wear outside the premises of my house, but mostly they have been very .. athletic-like. I promise that if I do have enough moolah to score me a pair, I won’t become a crazy Havaiana lady who blows her entire paycheck on a pair of rubber slippers. But all logic point toward the fact that it is impractical to even own one. Damn logic. Damn it to hell.
PS.
There are obsessions. And there are OBSESSIONS. See? I’m not crazy. I just want ONE PAIR for my one pair of feet. And maybe one for Isabella too. Hehe.
I keep thinking that there are so many interesting people out there. People that I have to meet or at least read about. Something to fill my uneventful days. I’d like to think that there are people who are taking the world by storm or at least seeing it up close and personal. I’m sure there are some who are fulfilling their dreams at this very minute or some that are about to change the course of their lives. So many people to meet, so very little time. So I bloghop to see what they’ve been doing.
I find people who are in despair over their relationships and some that don’t give a shit about any of it. Then there are the ones that have a terrible secret to hide. But in reality, they are just about to burst so they find solace in confessing in their blogs to readers who have no idea who they are and who can’t judge them for what they have done. There are people that just need to keep in touch with other human beings (or relatives) without too much commitment. Blogging is certainly a perfect way to express your presence without really being there. The power is one-sided.
And then there are the ones that don’t make any impression on a bloghopper. Particularly me. And more particularly, highchool** online diaries. Shiiit. Ony a handful of highschoolers have a decent grasp of grammar and spelling and these talents are wasted on entries that are weepy and pseudo-sucidal. And what the fuck is up with all the l0lZ and all the geek speak? Ever heard of expressing yourself with REAL words? Sheesh. And if that wasn’t enough to make my head hurt like I put a jackhammer to it, their layout is atrocious. Don’t you get the concept of less is more? I mean, the bling and the gifs and the videos and God knows what else they put in there, isn’t going to make me read your blog any more than if you were a supporter of Chelski.
Yes, there are interesting people in the world. But some diaries are just meant to be locked up in a desk, in the safety of one’s room and never to be shared with anyone. EVER. Because even if you think your life is interesting, sometimes, it just isn’t.
Guess who got her* Starbucks planner super early** this year? Yeah, that’s right. I WIN! YOU LOSE! *victory dance*
The little mengkee’s poop stinks to high heavens. One wonders where a teeny tiny thing like her got all that rancid crap in there.
And then one remembers her father. Mystery solved.
Just like what Brit-Brit did for her broke ass, no job, no-hit-wonder, gold diggin’ man K-Fed, I gosta aks you peeps for some lovin’ over at the Dad’s [writing]pad. And if you must comment, say what you want to say, but leave me the hell out of it.
ARGH.
Why can’t people just admit the truth? I mean, I KNOW the truth. I have irrefutable evidence. I am NOT an idiot. I may come off as a ditz once in a while, but trust me, I AM WATCHING YOU. And I know what you’ve been doing. And I know where you’ve been. Just pisses me off that you’re not man enough to admit it. Although I might not condone what you are doing, I certainly am more insulted that you are hiding it from me. It’s quite disgusting really.
*spit*
