Leaked from the Davao vaults — translated from taho stains and raw emotion.
📓 Found underneath a pile of Senate transcripts and empty taho cups.
📅 Entry #1: “Dear Diary, Bumbum is exhausting.”
I didn’t sign up for this.
When I said I’d ride behind Bumbum Mermakmak in 2022, I thought I’d be the muscle, the mystique, the Vice Queen who says little but slaps hard.
But three years in?
It’s just budget hearings, blank pages, and watching Matti Pawmaldezz treat ₱241B like his personal gacha game. Insertions everywhere.
I don’t even get a single coin for new helmets.
📅 Entry #2: “The UniTeam? More like UniTension.”
We used to have a group chat called #UniTayoForever.
Now it’s just Bumbum posting OOTDs and Lutsina reminding everyone to smile for the cameras.
I once replied “😐” after Bumbum posted a jet photo.
I got removed from the group.
Even General Barkto is confused.
He asked, “Ma’am, are we still in power or just playing a role in a budget-themed sitcom?”
I didn’t answer. I just rode my motorbike into the mist.
📅 Entry #3: “Matti Pawmaldezz smells like perfume and blank budgets.”
You ever talk to someone who pretends he’s transparent while swimming in fog?
That’s Matti.
I asked him about ₱50B in ‘non-recurring, recurrent discretionary unclarified initiatives’.
He handed me a color-coded spreadsheet, a croissant, and winked.
I nearly spilled my taho on him.
I didn’t.
But I thought about it.
📅 Entry #4: “They think I’m quiet because I’m clueless.”
No. I’m quiet because I’m collecting receipts.
Every page. Every fund. Every memo marked “Do Not Disclose.”
I even have a folder called “Sardina’s Revenge” with screenshots, phone call transcripts, and one TikTok draft that will shake the nation.
My motorcycle has dashcams in all directions.
Even the seat cushion records.
📅 Entry #5: “Dad used to say: If you don’t trust them, stare at them until they break.”
I’ve been staring a lot lately.
At the cameras. At Bumbum. At the national budget like it insulted my dog.
Sometimes, I imagine walking into Congress with nothing but a mic, my taho, and a truth bomb.
Other days, I just ride to the mountains of Davao and scream into the wind.
Nobody hears it. Except Baste.
He thinks I’m just doing voice training.
📅 Entry #6: “I still believe in something.”
Not Bumbum. Not Marty.
Not the UniTeam™️ merchandise they keep trying to sell me.
But in something bigger:
A Resibo Republic that remembers. That watches.
That knows I’ve got more than just a motorbike.
I’ve got grudges.
And I never forget.
📌 Disclaimer: These diary entries were recovered by our investigative otters under the Freedom of Taho Act. All events depicted are entirely satirical but dangerously close to reality.
🦦 Only on ResiboRepublic.com — where secrets leak and the tea is always taho.