Netnet Camomot NO matter how committed you're now in stopping your addiction to social media, there’s always something else to tempt you into wasting time and having sleepless nights. Like “Clumsy Ninja.” Especially for one who doesn't have a single sports-minded bone in her body and can of course relate with the difficulty that a novice ninja has to crawl through on his way to becoming an expert ninja. “Clumsy Ninja” is a game. But, unlike “Candy Crush” where you’re forever looking for more productive combinations of candies, this is a game where you gain points through helping the clumsy morph into graceful. Well, I don't know if the Ninja Turtles can be described as graceful, but since the clumsy ninja is a cartoon-ish human being, I'm hoping graceful is the culmination of all the levels that are now giving me sleepless nights. Sleepless as in sleeping at 4:30 a.m. so I can amass 8,000 coins to buy the Pop Gun. No, that's not some Papa with a gun, but a lemon shooter, supposed to boost the tired ninja's energy with Vitamin C. 1,000 milligrams for each lemon most probably. This ninja is cute. Asks for high-fives after each task. And if you don't respond to that, he would look at you like, Hey, a little respect this way, please? This game makes you wish you can do the same for corrupt politicians--train them to morph from corrupt to honest. But there's Billy Joel again: "Honesty is such a lonely word." And it's a lonely world out there for the honest. It's the same feeling you get when you're staring at Macajalar Bay from yet another new house from an overlooking property that gives you at least a 180-degree view, and could have given you the other 180-degree view if not for the mountain--hill?--at the back. Wait, it's not the same feeling. The similarity starts and stops with the wish-ko-lang: you wish you can afford to build a bahay kubo on that lot right beside this house where you're now having a dinner with a view, and you wish you can train corrupt into honest. One word: wish. With absolutely no connection between the house's owner and corrupt politicians. I must be at retirement age because at least three friends now have houses with a view of the bay. Only one of them lives in a subdivision not so far away, while the other two seem to savor relaxing in villages far far away, makes us wonder if living in Cagayan de Oro, with its traffic, garbage and chaotic ambience, now requires having a sanctuary to help boost one's energy for the next day. Anyone not living within CDO's city proper could relate with this. You now avoid that city proper like the way you avoid an obnoxious character. Unless your business or office is right there in the middle of it all. Or you prefer to live in the middle of it all, where every store, mall, bank, government agency, office, resto, bar, club, videoke place, etc. is within walking distance. You don't even mind the noise and the drunken brawls because that's where you're happiest, when something is always happening and you can touch it with your bare hands. Ooh la la. Yes, like Britney Spears' song: "You know can't nobody get down like us/We don't stop 'till we get enough/C'mon, turn it up 'till the speakers pop/Break it down, show me what you've got/Ooh my my baby don't be shy/I see that spark flashing in your eye/My heart beats fast 'cause I want it all/So baby come with me and be my ooh la la." Ah, hehe. I'm now at level 21 of the "Clumsy Ninja." The ninja who snores. The ninja who has a chicken for a BFF (best friend forever). The ninja who has funny scenes with his sensei. He's not as clumsy as he was at first, at level 1. He doesn't stumble as much, although he still crawls slowly to the center of a trampoline. His punches are way better than they were way back when, which was, hmmm, last weekend. Heh heh. He has rhinitis, exactly like mine. But, unlike my sneezes that often happen in the morning upon waking up, his can come and go during the day. He knocks on his side of the iPad screen whenever I'm multi-tasking and has forgotten that he exists. He's like a cute pet dog but I'm sure pet owners would protest to that: do you feed him, do you send him to the vet, do you let him sit on your lap while driving? Well, my empty-nest-syndrome friends have been trying to convince me to have a pet dog already. But even they have noticed that my recent vacations had me posing for photo ops with snakes and crocodiles, the kind of photo ops that require carrying them with bare hands. For the snakes, the picture-taking required more: one snake's tummy was resting on the back of my neck. A tummy that I presumed was full otherwise... O my gas. My friends say I seem to be fond of exotic animals. Haha. Are cockroaches, spiders and lizards classified as exotic? Because they make my skin crawl. Once upon a time, I believed crocs and snakes also made my skin crawl, but after my recent close encounters with them, I realized they're not that bad. Uh. Am I still me? I guess this has something to do with age. Been there, done that. And the assurance that the snake's tummy is full and the croc's mouth is tied shut. And if you've experienced absolute bliss, that kind of feeling where nothing else matters anymore because you have found the, uh, light, and it happened twice in the last year, somehow you're, hmmm, assured. So, go tickle the clumsy ninja, and have photo ops with the snakes and crocs. But please do make sure that the crocs are not the ones in Congress.