California Prop 8 and Religion Just Might Send You to Hell

Here in California, Proposition 8, which is the ban on gay marriage, has just passed 52.2% “Yes” to 47.8% “No”. I can’t help to attribute a great deal of the “yes” votes to ideals stemming from religious beliefs. In fact, according to this demographic, the highest groups that voted “yes” were McCain voters (84%), voters over 65 (62%), identify as conservative (87%), live in inland counties (57%), high school education (62%), and protestants (60%). Some articles say that Obama’s stance against gay marriage may have swung the votes in Prop 8’s favor due to the 70% “yes” black vote, but 73% of Obama voters voted “no”. Also, Obama said that even though he was against gay marriage, he was also against Prop 8.

To those who voted “yes” for religious purposes I say, did any of you stop to think that your blind following of a man-made religion might end up sending you to Hell, if such a place exists? Stop to think about it for a minute. Were the enslavement, rape, murder, and tortures during the Crusades, the Muslim Conquests, or the Reconquista justified because they were backed by religion? Maybe our “test” on this planet isn’t how faithful we are, but if we can tell the difference between right and wrong. Doesn’t that make more sense?

We don’t know if there’s a Heaven or Hell or if God exists, but one thing that we do know is that our fellow humans exist. How can we place worshiping a God that we’ve never met over the happiness and well being of our neighbors, relatives, friends, and co-workers with whom we have formed intimate relationships?

Religion has been wrong so many times in the past that it’s astonishing how people can still think that maybe “they” are right this time. Religious beliefs and practices only stand up as long as society will tolerate. Abortion is legal in all states. Premarital sex is everywhere. Nobody above the age of 13 feels guilty for masturbating. Everyone tells white lies. Tolerance, instead of forced conversion, of other religions brings us peace. And, soon, gay relationships and marriages will be as sinful as being born.

All we’re doing now is waiting for the old ideals to die out so that we can right the wrongs of our past.

Best Job in the World: Man vs Wild Photographer

Most people have seen Man vs Wild, where the host, Bear Grylls, is dropped off into some remote place on the planet and needs to survive until he finds civilization. The other day my housemate and I talking about how Survivorman is so much more authentic because there’s no camera crew in case he gets in really deep shit. But, then I started watching Survivorman and I was bored out of my mind. I mean, would you rather watch someone being practical and going around a sand trap or take a running start and jumping right in it? Would you rather have Les Stroud tell you about the dangers of a scorpion or watch Bear Grylls eat it? Would you rather have Les tell you about what kind of animal droppings are on the ground, or watch Bear drink water out of elephant shit?

I started to realize that this Brit was doing stuff for absolutely no reason. I saw him jump into a bog, just for the hell of it. He’s crawled into a camel carcass just to tell us about how it could be a nice shelter (I’m still giving Han Solo credit for that one). How does he think of all of this extremely entertaining stuff? He must have help.

In order to come up with things on the order magnitude of ridiculousness that Bear does in his shows, he must have some creative geniuses nearby. My guess is that his camera crew is made up of the baddest-ass motherfuckers at Double-Dare that anyone has ever seen. Imagine walking around with this guy and just saying, “Dude, I double dare you to kill that poisonous snake, piss into its skin, and then drink it later - along with the snake guts!” He actually did this, but I can’t find any videos of it. On the same episode, he stuck his face into a bee hive to get a couple of bites of honey. Allergic reaction below:


I would love to apply to be Bear Grylls’ photographer. Here are some of my ideas:

-Bear, I double-dare you to eat the first non-human moving thing that you see in the next 30 seconds.

-Bear, I double-dare you to trap yourself under a boulder and eat your own arm.

-Bear, I double-dare you to stuff your pockets with beef jerky and chicken guts and then sprint around the jungle for 45 minutes.

-Bear, I double-dare you to kill that sheep, pour its blood all over yourself, and then wrestle a lion, naked.

-Bear, I double-dare you to slap that baboon’s red ass and say, “Girrrrrrl, where did you get that badonkadonk?”

-Bear, I double-dare you to wait until the mother returns, eat an eagle egg out of the nest, and then escape on a hang-glider made of your t-shirt and a few tree branches.

Readers, what kind of dares would you have for Bear?

Bear has his own blog here.
Les has his own blog here.

Check out my blogs on Garage Sale Blog Network.

Habitat for Humanity

I finally had some time to volunteer and chose to do Habitat for Humanity for the greater San Francisco Area, representing Lockheed Martin. Rather than write an entire blog entry, I'll might as well link you to someone who did already. Robin Manning was the on-site lead for the project that I did, which was dry-wall. He's a recent Berkley grad with an architecture degree. Keep it up Robin, you're doing some great things out there!

Freedom

I think I must have gone from the optimism three years ago that I was going through a 1/4 life crisis at 25 years old to the reality that I am now going through a 1/3 life crisis at 28 years old. Right now I live a pretty fast-paced life - meeting new people all the time and transitioning lives at a rate of what seems like every three months. I’m going to work, getting my MBA, participating in a leadership development program at work, going out all the time, and visiting new cities pretty often. While everything that I’m experiencing is exciting and eye-opening, the one thing that I am severely lacking is: identity.

I’m at the point where I feel like I almost have too much freedom. Before college all you could really do was go to school, participate in extracurricular activities, and hang out with friends in your spare time. That was it. In college all you did was drink and do your best to graduate. Now, in the real world, I have way too many options. Sometimes I think I want to be an engineer, sometimes a business man, then maybe a lawyer, possibly a dentist, a music or independent movie producer, a professional poker player, a computer programmer; I could be a nurse, and maybe I’d be happy doing volunteer work in a third-world country. Four of my friends are getting married this year. Seeing them as happy as they are makes me want to settle down with a nice girl, treat her like a queen, and start a family. But then seeing ten hot women in a single night makes me want to keep up my life of having no idea what’s around the corner. Performing engineering and operations work makes me happy, but seeing clothes, cars, houses, and (frankly) women I can’t afford makes me feel insufficient.

All of this freedom is confusing me about who I am. Am I a nice guy or a player? Am I down to earth or materialistic? Do I want to socialize or do I need some time to myself? Do I care about school? Do I care about work? Which people do I care about and who don’t I have time for? –These are serious questions that need to be answered if I’m going to have any sort of consistency in my life. I woke up last night and I didn’t know where I was. I was in my own room. I had to turn the lights on and reach back in my memory bank to convince myself that this is where I’ve lived for the past two years.

So, what should I do with all of this freedom? I have the funds to travel wherever I want; the personality to meet whoever I want; the networks to work wherever I want; the mind to learn whatever I want; and the physicality to build/play/eat/drink/f*ck/punch/climb whatever I want. And, it’s not like this is rare – most people my age are exactly the same way. How do you have enough changes to keep from getting bored and still have things stay the same?

I’m not 100% sure what the answer is, but I think that 80% of it is in the people close to you. It’s amazing how much of who you are is stored in the people that you love and that love you. The people that know you the best will always be your “home”. As soon as I get back from vacations and have some time to relax, I always tell my new stories to those close to me. Same thing goes for them as they have unique life experiences. All of that corny shit about friends and family being #1 really has some meaning. Mom and dad, you’re right as usual – go ahead with the “I told you so”s and treating me like I’m still 14.

That’s reminding me of my 1/8 life crisis.

Triumphant Tribulations

A sad, but true revelation I had the other day is that the best way to get close to someone is to go through a tragedy with them. Think about the people that you are closest with. Family is always there to support you through your difficulties. Best friends are ones that are there for you other during hard times. And, soul mates are ones that can understand you and get you through anything.

My old housemate met some guy that she didn't seem initially that into, even though he had some great qualities. She wasn't ready to settle down, he lived far away, and they had a lot of differences at first. They were seeing each other for a few months until her dad sadly passed away from lingering brain cancer. It was undoubtedly the worst tragedy of her life, but he was the perfect guy about supporting her and helping her through the hard time. He talked to her every night. He bought her flowers. He visited her family. He made her tragedy his tragedy. And, this is how they fell in love.

Every cloud has its silver lining - this was it. She was able to see what a great guy he was and he showed that he had the rare ability to make her happy in the saddest of times. She's since moved out of my house to get a condo with him in Daly City. A few weeks ago they also got engaged. A lot of how your life ends up depends on how you take advantage of opportunity - no matter how morbid the situation. "Bad" things only exist because "good" things exist as well.

In all honesty, I don't think that I can be fully appreciated without tragedy. If a woman I'm with never gets sick, she'll never know how well I can take care of her. If she never has a bad day, she'll never know how I can turn them around. If she never cries, I'll never get the chance to support her. And, if she's never been mistreated or with the wrong guy, she may never realize what she's got in me.

I don't want to sound manipulative or want anyone to think that I hope my next girlfriend's grandma or dog dies, but I do have a strong desire to be appreciated. The best thing about being appreciated is that it lasts a lifetime. I know that whenever my ex'es are used by some player, they remember how honest I was. Sometimes when they laugh in public, it was because they remembered how funny I was. And, when they think about their future with the guy they're with, that guy is going to be measured up based on some of my qualities. On the downside, they'll probably also remember how conceited, stubborn, offensive, messy, and good in bed I was (oh wait, scratch that last one).

My Travel "Buddy"

You haven't experienced the plane flight from hell until you've sat next to this guy:

Crying babies, coughing sickly men, over-talkative grandmas, and chair-kicking kids have nothing on this guy. I was on my way to Pittsburgh, PA for school and I found my self on a flight that got progressively worse.

My classmate and I boarded early and took the outer (window and aisle) seats in hopes of having the middle one free for our jackets and to spread our arms out. We had a good ploy going, her pretending to sleep and me reading a book and avoiding eye contact with other passengers. But, it turned out the plane was full and someone had to take that seat. All I remember is some guy saying to his son, "There's an empty seat right there." Reluctantly, I scooted into the middle seat. Damn that guy, he must've known what he was doing to me!

My first mistake was not pulling the arm rest down between this 20-something year old kid and me. I was distracted with some really strange small talk and made he way onto half of my seat (he was a big kid). I first noticed because he had pushed his leg right up against mine and he kept flinching. I decided to stand my ground, at the cost of rubbing legs with the adult version of Cartman without his A.D.D. medicine. Okay, that was bad, but it got worse.

I thought that things would get better once this oaf fell asleep and stopped twitching. I was tremendously wrong. As soon as Chunk's (from Goonies) twin brother went to sleep, that's when the craziness ensued. First, he snored louder than anything I've ever heard .... no joke. And, this was on a plane packed with people. Then, he flinched like he was leading Beethoven's 5th Symphony - arms up in the air and elbows flying left and right. Eventually, he hung his entire body off of the end of the seat so that his head and arm were completely in the aisleway. Those unfortunate enough to have to pass this guy to reach the restroom would pause, confused on how to squeeze by without waking him up, laugh a little bit, then look over at me with a pitied look as if I was a boy who just got his dog run over. I had the worst seat in the house and they all knew it.

The flight attendant made the mistake of waking the kid up to give him his drink. Predictably, Spanky's (from Little Rascals) slightly retarded uncle fell asleep, one hand in his cup, and then woke up with a spastic toss of ice and Dr Pepper into the unsuspecting crowd. I spent the entire 3 hour 15 minute flight awake in a zombie like state, too afraid of what would happen to me if I dozed off. I thought to myself that falling asleep and facing Freddy Krueger (Nightmare on Elm Street...c'mon, you guys have got to start getting these movie references) would not be such a bad compromise, if I had that option.

All in all, it was a terrible flight. But, at least I got some sweet cameos. Check it!

Vote For Chris Bosh, All Star 2007-2008

This video is so hilarious that I had to vote for Chris Bosh.



To vote go here.

Boarding Videos

I went boarding Dec 14, 20, and 22 at Northstar and then Kirkwood. I bought a cheap, small 720p digital camcorder in order to make boarding videos. I'm going to wait to do tricks until the end of the season, but here are 3 funny videos that we made.

Under-the-Hill

I've heard of over-the-hill, but is there such thing as under-the-hill?

From my experience, it's been the general consensus that women in their twenties want men that are in their thirties. While it's awesome that I'm still getting better with age, I'm also feeling really impatient. I think that in general asian guys are 1-2 years behind the average white man; but personally, I think that I'm 2-3 years behind. While this means that I'll be getting better until I'm late 30's, early 40's, it also means that I have a hell of a long time to wait until my potential shows itself. I'm equivocally only 24. I should be dating undergrads.

I may have a while to go until I reach my statistical peak, but I think that I'm probably peaking compatibility wise right now. I'm bitter and jaded enough to be realistic about relationships, but still ignorant enough to be blindly optimistic. I'm mature enough to understand and think my way through situations, but I'm also immature enough to just make hilarious, out-of-line jokes to get me through. I'm stable enough to be in a relationship with and still unstable enough to have crazy experiences and take risks. I'm caring enough to consider a woman's needs and detached enough to be my own man.

The maturity thing is the worst. I can really feel myself going through a mental change. It pisses me off. I've always thought a lot in my life and had lofty goals, but now I'm in deep thought all day long (well, work doesn't count) and I can see the path to achieving my goals. For me this signals the death of my care-free life with shitloads of ridiculous jokes and entertainment. Those things will be replaced with regiment and always doing what's appropriate. Lately, I've even cringed at some of the jokes that I tell myself. I always think that I'm funny! I mean, just look at my last 3 posts! Not funny. Fuckin!!!

I'm pretty sure that in 3 years or so I'll be done with my MBA, more successful, better looking, and more mature. But, dude, I want the benefits NOW. I guess that's not realistic expectation though. It's like a woman in her 30's wishing to go backwards in time. Ha ha, you wish, lady. Maybe if you didn't look for guys in their thirties when you were in your twenties, then they wouldn't expect women in their twenties and you could date them nowadays.

30 Days

Last time I wrote about the 60 days that changed my life in such a short period of time. Things have been so crazy and unpredictable that this time it only took 30 days for me to almost completely change who I am and how I think.

The last 30 days all I've been doing with my life is thinking - about Life. I go to work, but I'm still just thinking about Life. I go to class and take my finals, but I'm still just baffled, bewildered, perturbed, and perplexed over this thing called Life. There's a guy in the stall next to me at work verbally busting his O-ring, but I don't even hear it because of the reverb in my head with ideas about Life. I've spent the last month plagued until 4 in the morning with thoughts about what to do with this Life. Just recently, I got my first full night's sleep in what seemed like ages.

So, what the fuck did I think about for an entire month for 18-20 hours each day, what caused it, and what settled it? Some people know, and some don't, but I met this woman who I just thought that I was destined to meet and be with. But she went back to school (a few states away) and things just plummeted from there. It caught me pretty much by surprise and I couldn't sleep until I figured out a possible answer to whatever new question I came up with in my head. This might sound neurotic, but I'm not crazy. In fact, that's probably why it took me so goddamn long to finally get a good night's rest. If I was crazy I could just come up with some loopy ass explanation and go right to sleep. Anyways, it was this event that made me feel like I was insufficient and I needed to re-think a lot of things. What I basically thought about was who I was (what makes me different than the next person) and what makes me happy.

When I thought about who I was, all I could come up with were statistics. I just thought: good job, well educated, in good shape, good sense of humor, decent looking, and motivated. My whole life I've fought to not be generic and be someone that's really unique. Yet, when I tried to list the best things about myself they were all generic qualities that will only get someone so far. The worst thing is that this is how I viewed the rest of the world. Whenever I meet a new woman I rate her based on her looks, intelligence, profession, and proximity. The last few women that I have been serious with, I found that the biggest regret that I had about things not working out was that they were so statistically rare. They were hot, funny, smart, sexy, and had high earning potential. I talked to my friend, Eric Jones, about it. Being the typical guy, I said that I missed the sex the most (hey, it was awesome), but he said that what he missed the most was the companionship. That really got me to thinking, and I realized that I didn't miss how rare they were statistically, I missed them because it is rare to really connect with someone. And, I really did with them. So, I kind of decided to not be such a statistic myself. What's unique about me has to be my personality and how well I treat those that I love. Each time I've gone out to bars and talked to woman the most shallow things always come up: what do you do for a living, where did you go to school, where do you live, or what activities do you like to do? I'm going to just avoid all of these types of questions and think of questions that will lead me to find out who the person is, not how they measure up statistically. Equivocally, I'm going to avoid putting myself out there as a statistic.

The second thing that I thought about was what makes me happy. I still haven't figured this one out 100%, but I figured out that it's something not worth thinking about. Life is more about rolling with the punches than it is grabbing hold and creating your vision of yourself. It's okay to think about the things that you can do to make yourself happy, but once you start thinking about things that are out of your control, then you'll just be going in circles like a one-legged man on a skate board; a dog with peanut butter on his tail; two fat guys on opposite ends of a marry-go-round; or an asian woman looking for her car at the mall. One thing that brings me happiness that I can't control is if a woman loves me. Realizing this fact helped me to settle my mind. It's clear as day. If there's love lost in either direction then it plain out just wasn't meant to be (or, not meant to be at this time). No need for contemplation. No need for worry. It's not an issue about being insufficient, there's nothing that I could have done differently, it's all about whether or not there was enough of a connection. Things that I can control are: my work, my education, my finances, and what I do with my time. That's about it.

It took a lot of maturing for me to finally realize that certain things are out of my control. Everyone wants to feel like they're in control of their lives. Really, nobody is. You can't control who you meet (which really is the biggest factor in your life) or what events happen to you. It's crazy how many institutions and ideals are based on people trying to usurp control of their lives. Take religion, for instance. People realize that they can't control what happens to them (in this life, or after), but they try to by going to church or devoting themselves to what could be completely made up beliefs. When there's something that's unexplainable, people will always search until they've found an answer that lets them sleep at night. But, the day when you realize that you have no control is when you will finally be at peace.

I'm not there yet (but at least I can sleep).

Brand New

New relationships are probably the best times that I've had in my life. The hardest thing to do in this world is to be able to show someone how special and unique you are, and that you're worth their attention. During the first few weeks of a relationship, there's actually somebody there looking for those things in you instead of you putting all of this effort into trying to show them. It's nice to be appreciated.

It's such an invigorating feeling to meet someone new and find out what you can learn from them. My favorite days have been spent thinking about what the other person said and formulating new questions to ask in order to get to know her better. I've had days of winning intramural championships, snowboarding, partying, hooking up, graduating, getting hired, hiking Half Dome, and snorkeling in Hawaii. But, I'd trade any one of those days for the days at the beginning of a relationship.

The reason why I keep mentioning the beginning, and that's it, is because that's the only part that I'm good at. I always put all of my best qualities out there right away and then I sort of run out of reasons why I'm worth someone's time. I think that it's like this for a lot of people, but most others just take longer to open up and, therefore, longer to run out of exciting and new things about themselves. By that time, things have transitioned from the excitement of something new to the comfort of something familiar.

There's always that instant where you realize that you've told the other person everything about yourself and you know everything about the other person. It's concurrent with the first time that you either call him/her with nothing on your mind to talk about, go on a silent car ride, think about what it would be like to be with another (wo)man, or debate whether you want to pick up your phone when (s)he calls. In the past, I've realized these occurrences as they were happening. During those times, I realized that the next few weeks were going to determine our true compatibility. If we became bored, time to move on. If we could entertain each other with our everyday lives, not just our pasts, then things could work out.

I used to think that I was the relationship type, but I'd have to modify that definition and say that I'm the short-term relationship type. There's this episode of Seinfeld where George finds out that he starts off on a high note by telling funny jokes, but then just ruins things as the conversation goes on. So, he starts bowing out of meetings and discussions after telling a single funny joke, realizing that he's peaked in that situation and it's best to leave a good impression. I'm thinking that that's how I should be when it comes to relationships. Instead of falling in love and having long relationships, I should just bow out once I've peaked, realizing that I probably don't have anything else to give. Then, hopefully something else exciting will come along.

Reverend Matthew Jung Lee

From the title, it's apparent that I've embarked on yet another key moment in my life. It was an arduous journey (5 minutes), but I finally achieved my goal of being ordained Reverend Matthew Jung Lee of the Universal Life Church. I'm available for weddings, bar mitzvahs, baby namings, baptisms, commitments ceremonies, house blessings, and vow renewals. As long as they're open bar.

My venture began when my friend and soccer teammate at work, Matt Viallant, told me that he ministered the wedding of two of his close friends earlier this year. I was really impressed and asked him if he had to study long and what the training was like in order to become a minister. He said that all he did is go online and sign up at the Universal Life Church homepage and get a free, legally valid certificate in 2 minutes (I took longer because I shopped around). I've heard of weekend classes to get ordained, but that's still too much effort to get something just for fun.

Through the Universal Life Church website all you have to do is submit your name and contact information and "waalaah" Certificate of Ministry. On top of that, they offer a bunch of packets for you to buy to further "validate" your title. I chose the "Monastery Credential Package". It includes: 10 certificates: Wedding, Handfasting, Renewal of Marriage, Affrimation of Love, House Blessing, Baptism and Commitment Certificates. It also includes a Minister Window decal. Press Pass and ULC Parking Hanger. Also included is a hard copy of the official Ordination Credential, a Wallet ID card, choice of Clergy Badge, and sample services. I really like the gold seals- they make me feel a lot more official than the one I printed out at home. Some might ask: is it really worth $49.99 just to propagate a joke? This man says: Hell yes!

First of all, it gives business to the Universal Life Church, who seem like extremely good and open-minded people. They don't discriminate or force their will on others. In their own words: "We make no religious hurdles, no hoops to jump through, no tests of loyalty, no rings to kiss and no fees to pay. Why? The ULC Monastery represents freedom, and to have freedom you can not make demands upon individuals." Nice. Finally, something I can believe in. Besides supporting an awesome group, who can pass up a ULC press pass? "Yes, I'm here to interview Miss Jessica Alba on behalf of the ULC." And, what God-fearing cop would stick a ticket onto a car with a ULC Parking Hanger? The card will come in handy for flashing when I feel like pompously saying "That's Reverend Lee to you." The Ordination Credential (again, with the sweet golden seal) is clearly the best item, and is going right next to my BS and MS degrees on my wall. I'm definitely not advocating going to this site and fooling around. I really might use my ministry someday. But, until then, it's just something to put on my resume and add to my list of titles.

Vegas Baby, Vegas

Yeah, I'm well aware of the "what happens here stays here" motto that's touted by the appropriately nicknamed Sin City. I'm still gonna talk about it so you can go fuck yourself Las Vegas!

This past weekend was my brother's bachelor party and while some things will go unspoken, some others need to be touched upon. At first I didn't understand why my brother didn't want to go to a club for his bachelor party. But, once I got into the strip club I kind of realized why. No, I'm not talking about playing motor boat or trying to make the stripper climb the pole and touch her ass on the ceiling; my point is that being in a strip club isn't reality. The tits are fake, the compliments are fake, the diamonds are fake, and colleges that they're attending are definitely fake. The only thing that is real is the sob story that strippers tell you about their ex-boyfriends or their asshole dads. So, I saw why my brother wanted to go to strip clubs instead of real clubs: it's fake. If you go to a club and girls are in your booth drinking with you, that's real and something really might happen. But, if you go to a strip club, it's all fake and reality comes back once you reach the exit.

That is, until you get into the taxi and the guy says: "So, who's ready to go to a massage parlor?"

Luke Skywalker vs Han Solo

Sometimes when I'm on the soccer field and I feel like the game is up to me, I pretend like I'm Luke Skywalker in Episode IV. In case you didn't know (you should be ashamed of yourself), that's the one where he shot his photon into that tiny little hole to blow up the Death Star. Clutch.

Even though I would have a place in history as Luke Skywalker, I think that I'd still rather be Han Solo. He cracks all the jokes, chicks love him, and he gets with the princess. The only action that Luke got was a kiss from his sister (yuck! ... tongue action too!). Perhaps, another downside to being Han Solo instead of Luke Skywalker is that I wouldn't have the Force.

So, I was thinking, hell yeah, even though I don't have the Force my wife (Leia) does so I can still have kids that inherit it. Money! ... or not so money. It would totally suck to have a wife that has the Force! She'd always be thinking that she's better than me. I'd have to ask her to open jars, get things down off of high shelves, lift heavy objects, and other embarrassing things. After I got old and my mind wasn't as sharp, she'd be doing all of these Jedi mind tricks on me, making me do the dishes and laundry, make dinner, and think that she beat me at Jeopardy again. Then, the next morning when I woke up and realized all of the things that happened I'd be like, "Bitch, don't pretend like you beat me at Jeopardy!" My kids would not only be able to kick my ass by age 5, but, as a Padawan, they'd also have those sweet miniature pony tails that went out with the 80's (I know I wasn't the only one that had one!). They'd probably walk around all scronny and shit, like I was when I was a kid. But, then when the kids in the back of the bus tried to take their shoes they'd kick some ass instead of moving to the front and making friends with the bus driver.

In conclusion, I'd still like to be Han Solo - but there's no way I'm going to marry that skank Leia. On top of her thinking that she's better than me, she straight up slaved herself to Jabba the Hut! No matter how good she looked in that golden bikini, the image of her up against living blubber is too much for any man to get out of his head. You sold your soul to the Devil, Leia - I'll never forgive you for that. Sure, it was to save me from being frozen in carbonite, but at what cost!!??

And, the only thing you can beat me at is Go Fish - and that's because nobody gives a damn about Go Fish! I will forever be the king of Jeopardy!

Don't Feed the Animals

Today I was hanging out with a co-worker, eating some peanuts, and she said "Here, catch one in your mouth." After that I had to explain to her that, while I like catching things in my mouth - it's fun, I won't catch anything that animals at the zoo catch in their mouths or have thrown at them. That means nothing in the shape of peanuts (elephants), bananas (monkeys), steaks (lions), fish (seals/penguins/turtles), bones (dingos), pellets (petting zoo/birds), leaves (giraffes), or chicken (alligators). At the same time, I enjoy throwing those things at my friends and thinking about them as the animals that eat that shaped food. Sometimes they wonder why I'm petting them and doing baby talk, but I just ignore them and keep on enjoying the wildlife.

Homelessness and $5 Gift Cards at McDonald's

Initially, I was going to write about the socioeconomic aspect of homelessness but it ended up being too complex and there were too many problems, without enough solutions, for me to write about.

Lately, I've been encountering a lot of homeless people asking for money. The issue with me is not that I'm a cheapskate or aloof on the matter of homelessness, but rather that I can't tell if he (I'm going to use he, his, him instead of he/she, his/her, him/her throughout this blog) is deserving of help or if he is going to buy alcohol with the money (my main concern). Well, I think that no matter what the person's walk of life, he deserves to eat. So, I was wondering how I could give homeless people money and guarantee that it wouldn't be spend on alcohol. At first I wanted to take the person to lunch myself and get in a conversation about how he ended up on the streets. But, that might make him feel ridiculed and he probably would rather not eat than have to tell someone about his life. After some tossing and turning at night I finally came up with a solution that I think makes sense: $5 gift cards from McDonalds.

Yesterday I went to McDonald's to pick up gift cards that I could hand out to homeless people so that I could make sure that my money was going towards feeding them instead of to alcohol. I can't stand the sick feeling of lying and saying "I don't have any change" when I really could have helped that person out. I want to kick my own ass every time I insincerely say "Sorry ,man", when I really want to say "Sorry, I don't trust that you'll spend it on food and I'm too stupid/lazy to think of a way to help you".

I can see how gift cards might not be something that everyone wants to adopt because $5 is a lot to plop down for a single donation. I wanted to get $3 gift cards, but the minimum amount is $5 on a card. Additionally, they have to scan each (blank) card and write in the value, which took about 15 minutes to complete. Still, I recommend that if you feel that this society has given you enough for you to give back, please go pick up a few gift cards.

We need to take advantage of the fact that there is a McDonald's in every neighborhood. What I'm going to do is to write an e-mail and send in a letter (better option). I'll post with the contents of that letter. Basically, I want McDonalds to start carrying $1, $2, $3, and $5 pre-valued cards so that anyone can buy them and use them as money for homeless people without using cash. It would be ideal if there was a website where people could order these gift cards and have them mailed to their houses. It's a win-win-win for donaters, homeless people, and McDonald's. The donations would also be tax deductible, so that everyone can be sure that the government helps out on this too.

If you believe in this idea as much as I do, please follow suit and e-mail and mail a (signed) letter to McDonald's. All you'll need to do is copy and paste what I'll post in my next blog. Details on what to write and where to send it will follow.

Change three: help the homeless.

Bloggy and Vloggy Style

I bought an HD camcorder awhile back, intent on making some video blogs but I just haven't done anything yet. To force me to do it, I'm going to say right here that I will post my very first video blog on July 8th - no matter what! Look for it here, and on Youtube. T-minus 25 days.

Google Me Bitch

Today I googled "motivational procrastination" and my blog came up 6th on the list. I realize that "motivational procrastination" are not very commonly used together and I did search on my own computer so google may have adjusted for that, but I still think it's cool.

Modified Types

Early on in our lives we're able to date just about anyone. My first girlfriend, in 6th grade, was some prudish, stuck up white girl. My second girlfriend was a hottie taller (like 3" taller) white girl who I just happened to tell was "fine" at some school dance. My third girlfriend was another white girl, this time with glasses, big boobs, and was, at best, a 4.5. My fourth girlfriend was a quiet japanese girl, who I asked to go out with me, then who dumped me after a week went by and I didn't call her. Needless to say, just like all other kids my age I had nothing in common with these girls except wanting to have someone to make out with and tell my friends that I was going out with.

In high school I dated a complete bitch/slut, a girl too hot for me (at the time - those don't exist anymore), and two that might have been my type. In college I went out with two girls, both of which I loved and formed deep connections with.

The point is that as I got older I sort of modified the type of girl that I'm interested in. Everyone does. I can tell who will be a waste of time and who has potential for myself just by looking at a woman. For instance, unless some very unique individual comes along, I can tell that a taller woman is out of the question. I can pretty much also rule out blondes (I think), black, hispanic, and indian women, women under 20 and over 35, hippies, rockers, ghetto girls, and druggies. These filters aren't there because of my personal preferences. They're there mainly because I don't think that any of them would be attracted to me. Since I have these modified types, I assume that women have them too and automatically count myself out of a lot of possibilities.

There are good and bad things that result from these filters. It's good that you kind of realize who you'll get along with easily, but it's bad that you'll tend to stay more within your comfort zone and not explore other types. It's also bad because you might get along with someone really well that you wouldn't have thought you would have based on looks or social status alone.

My second change is: remove all filters for meeting and conversing with people.

Why Attractive Women Are Airheads

I'm pretty bold and confident (something I haven't decided if I should change or not), so when I'm out and I see a beautiful woman that looks like she's of my modified type (more on that later) I don't really hesistate to make conversation and attempt a few lines of witty banter. One thing that I've found is that almost every single one of those women is a complete airhead. At first I dismissed it as lack of interest on their part but then I've had some of those girls' friends or the girls themselves say that they think I'm cute or funny or something, yet they still have nothing to offer.

I was thinking about why that is and going over a few interactions in my head and what I came up with is that they never developed any social skills because 1) guys don't give a fuck what a hot girl is saying, 2) the girls think that guys expect them to be airheaded, and 3) they have never been forced to be witty or seen possible benefits of aquiring such abilities. But, I do care about what a woman has to say. I'm all about appreciating a woman with a mind that I can respect and treat as my equal. That's why part of my change is to never step foot in another club unless it's out of obligation. The last time I went to a club it was useless to try to talk to girls because all they want to do is drink and dance. And, even the ones that you can tell were dragged there and you might like to talk to you can't because the music is too loud. I've decided that clubs are for losers who can't hold a conversation.

Since clubs are now useless in my book, they should be used to house these types of useless women who go out: ones who can't hold a conversation, ones who go out solely to "hang with the girls", ones with boyfriends, ones who get wasted to the point of needing someone else for support, ones who are over 45 (and that's stretching it), ones with kids that are home alone, virgins, cheaters, and ones who are homeless (I dunno, just threw that in there).

So, first change: no more clubs.

Take From the World

Are you the rock or the stream? The rock sits in the stream and the water flows naturally around it. The rock just sits there and takes in what the world has to offer. It figures out how things work and tries to understand its role in the world. The stream tries to move the rock. It’s never consistent and is always trying to use forceful ways to move the rock. The stream wants to make the world adjust to its own vision and create its own place in it.

Lately I've been doing a lot of introspection, battling myself over what changes I should and shouldn't make, and trying to figure out what would make me a better person. It really depends on three things: who you're talking to, what book/article you're reading, and what walk of life you're in. Some of my (guy) friends say, "hook up with as many girls as you can. " Some of my (girl) friends say, "you’re a good catch, don’t change." One book says, "this will teach you to love, not to be promiscuous." Another books says, "we will give you 11 openers and field-tested strategy on how to close the deal". My past life said, "settle down, marry, and have a family. " My current life says, "what the fuck is going on here (he’s kind of a jerk and has a limited vocabulary)?"

There have been times in my life when I've made radical changes and emerged a better person. But since college, I've been basically the same person (besides those 60 Days, during which I changed my status more than my character). People usually look for drastic change because they're unhappy in their situation or depressed in general. But, I'm not really either of those - I just think that life can be better and I want to live it instead of just living (cliché, I know, and I’m sorry). That's the thing though - how do I have these experiences? What experiences do I want to have? More importantly, what experiences to I not want to have?

All of my life I’ve given to this world and been what I thought it wanted me to be. I never ditched class; I stayed away from drugs; I went to college; I waited until college to drink; I studied hard; I gave my all in relationships; I got a steady job; I contributed to my community; I gave thanks to God (in my own ways); I helped others; I smiled; I shook hands; I gave compliments; I had good intentions; I previously devoted myself to another; and I voted Democrat.

Now I want to take from the world! The world has so much to offer but I’ve always been it’s bitch instead of the other way around. There are so many interesting people out there and sights to see. Lately, I’ve met at least three girls that I thought I would get along with really well but I didn’t pursue any of them. I think that I've always been in these long relationships and, as bad as it sounds, they've held me back in a lot of ways. Another person was always part of how I defined myself. There's nothing wrong with that, per se, but after each break up I was left with this huge gap and I was half of a person for a few months.

My dilemma basically boils down to two problems: getting rid of the present me, who I like, and never being able to be that person again; and compromising my morality. I think that right now I'm still pretty decent husband material that would attract a nice girl. But, 1) there aren’t very many nice girls out there and 2) I’d probably mess it up anyways. Who’s to say that nice girls are my type anyways? I love emotional clusterfucking, freedom fighting, and navigating my way out of the circle of blame. I can’t respect a girl that is too nice and does everything that I want, but I don’t want to be with a lying bitch either. It sucks that smart/clever girls who are independent almost always end up being bitchier as a consequence. I guess that I can’t complain because I consider my wit above average and I’m a major asshole. Since I’m admitting right here that I’m an asshole, then I suppose that the answer to my dilemma is obvious: change.

I my future posts, I’ll be documenting what changes I’ve decided on and the logic behind them. Maybe I’ll inspire some people to make changes in their own lives, so that they can begin living (seriously, that cliché again? ppsssshhhh, loser).

I am the stream. I’ll try to mold the world into what I want it to be. The rock is wiser and its tranquil future is undeniable. But the stream is plucky and its whimsical future is captivating.

Bets You Can't Win

I've come to the conclusion that you can't win a bet with a woman. I mean, you can win, you just can't get paid out on your victory. Women never feel obligated to hold up their end of the bet when they lose. If you win, you might combine the time that you gloat with a chance to remind her what the stakes were and that you're owed something - but any reminders after that and you're being a total jerk and just trying to rub it in.

"What real man expects to get paid for a petty bet by a woman?" - shit, I do! A bet is a goddamn bet. The worst thing is that men condone this behavior. I once had a friend of mine tell me a story that his girlfriend bet a guy at a bar $5 about some play that was going on during a basketball game on TV. When his girlfriend lost, he totally dogged the guy and called him a bitch for accepting the $5 until the guy gave it back. Well, maybe I'm okay with that because it's a stranger's money, but if it's your girlfriend or your wife and you guys share time and money anyways, then debts should be paid. I'm especially talking about non-monetary bets like massages, watching sports instead of America's Next Top Model, cooking dinner, taking care of the kids, or running errands.

It's not all that bad that bets are forgotten, but it sucks mainly because they're only forgotten one way. A woman will never hesitate to remind a man in some cute way that he owes her $20, lunch, or a ride home from the airport. Men need to stick to bets that they plan on losing. For instance, it's perfectly fine to bet your hot lady friend dinner that they will find the bombs in Iraq. Feel free to bet your best friend's GILF a night on the town that Bill Clinton was one of the Founding Fathers. Go ahead and bet that stripper four shots that she can't do the splits in roller skates. And please, for the love of God, bet the twins next door a weekend for three in Vegas that you can take them both out in a kiddy-pool-full-of-jello-pudding wrestling contest.

Vocab: Lesson 2

Previously I talked about how the nicknames Bob and Dick made no sense and that in order to fix that they should be called Bobert and Dickard. I've also defined the terms lead up to freezing ovaries math, Quadruple Flush, Circle of Blame, and Emotional Clusterfuck. Now, I've finally come up with a word that is handy for everyday use.

Like most new slang, this term is made from a combination of words. If some guy is acting like a total bitch, it's often appropriate to refer to him as a Vagina (or Vāg for short). Although I don't particularly prefer this term, another name to call him is a fag. So, combining the words, it
should be a doubly-insulting to call somebody a Fagina (or Fāg). And, I'm all about efficiency.

Fart Dance Fever

Today at work I had gas that was so bad that I considered taking a half day off just so that I could go home and let it all go at my leisure.

It was one of those times when the rumbling of gas around in your stomach is so active that it sounds like you're farting already. And, it's always when you have that painful pressure and rumbling that your buttcheeks decide to be such close buddies that any little seep of gas sounds like you're pulling on the valve of a balloon while letting the air out. You have to do that uncomfortable dance in your seat to move the gas around or else it'll just work it's way out in your current position. The new position that you work yourself into is the most obvious and awkward way that you can sit in a seat. If anybody was to take a single glance at you in your chair at a 45 degree angle, balancing on one cheek, and one foot off of the ground, they would be able to tell wassup with no problem.

I'm just glad that it was a Friday and my cubemates left early -otherwise it would be a day with half pay.

Freedom Fighters: the Circle of Blame and the Emotional Clusterfuck

Being a man, I used to hate arguments. Even if you win (the argument), you lose (out on sex). It might sound strange, but at some point in the last few years I started to actually enjoy arguing.

It was the strangest realization when I discovered that I was pissed off, just got hung up on, and yet, I was excited about it. It was like this battle that happened every time that I picked up the phone. Between battles we would reload by gathering information, forming strategies, or looking for holes in the other's logic or story. Come battle time we brought our artillery to the agreed upon location (Cingular network) and unloaded whatever we had.

Sometimes there would be midday sneak attacks where one of us called the other person when he/she wasn't expecting it and let off a bomb. It was possible to avoid those attacks by not picking up the phone, but then you'd just get bitched out for not picking up and your excuse would be scrutinized in the ensuing battle. It was better to take sneak attacks head on as they came rather than let the bomb feed itself all day.

Sometimes there would be peace talks in a calm environment, like in an e-mail. You can set up all of your defenses for the day's attacks and suggest some sort of compromise to end the war. But, the next day all is forgotten and once again you feel the wind from the harsh words as they whiz by your ear and explosion from the intense decibels of yelling that penetrate your eardrum.

In the beginning, I took advantage of my superior technology (knowing her e-mail password and searching around her computer) and clearly dominated what appeared to be a one-way war. Information wins wars. But then my own weapons (Google Desktop Search) were turned on me as the enemy adapted. The enemy didn't have any real substance to her attacks, but she had enough to create her main weapon: The Circle of Blame.

In case you've never heard of the Circle of Blame (because I made it up just now), it's very much like riding a merry-go-round that you can't get off of; and the merry-go-round is on fire; and there are people on the outside throwing potatoes at you; and you have this spray bottle that will just barely keep the flames off of you; and you have this shield that is exactly the size of a potato; and the only way to escape is to jump (hang up the phone) ... only to end up on another merry-go-round (pick up the phone - begin [merry-go] Round 2).

Okay, so metaphors aside, what the Circle of Blame is is when you get blamed for something, you give your excuse, that leads to something else (you give your excuse), which leads to something else (excuse, yet again), and then eventually comes back full circle to the original source of blame (then repeat). This is known in the political arena as filibustering. This is known in the female mind as entrapment. The only point to repeating this circle over and over again is to either catch the man with something inconsistent or else make the man forget what he said before. Women have the skill to widen the circle over time so that the man can't remember the proper or past response to each question. And, all he has to do is answer it differently than he did before and he's guilty! The genius thing about the Circle of Blame is that the man doesn't even have to be guilty of anything for this weapon to be used effectively on him. The only necessary ingredient is the formation of accusations. And, for most women, forming accusations is as easy as waking up in the morning. It's something that's natural and just part of life.

Women may have the Circle of Blame, but men have: the Emotional Clusterfuck. Men don't have time to come up with as complex of methods as the Circle of Blame, but we've got brute force on our sides. Since we don't give a damn, we are immune to emotional methods of attack. If my enemy said to me "your friends hate you and my girlfriends think that you're ugly" I wouldn't give a damn. Now, if I attacked with an analogous barrage, I'd get rather satisfying results with minimal effort. My enemy would be distraught for weeks and would believe my words over her own opinion. Furthermore, she would have no defense, as her emotions would draw the bridge and lead my invading army to the throne.

You see, this is the difference between a man and a woman in a fight. A man is only susceptible to attacks of logic and reasoning. A woman is only susceptible to attacks of feeling and emotion. It's much harder to attack with logic than it is with emotion. For this reason, men should always dominate arguments. But not all men are smart/mean enough to use the Emotional Clusterfuck. To these men, I have a message: you need to start thinking of yourselves as Freedom Fighters.

Each time you lose a battle, the government (your woman) slowly, but surely takes away your freedoms and dignity. First, you can't go out drinking with the friends she doesn't like. The, you can't hang out with that female friend of yours that you've had since high school. Then, you have to watch a re-run of Sex In the City instead of Family Guy. Then, you have to be home for dinner on time every night. Then, you have to be home in time to make dinner every night. Then, you have to wash her car every week. Then, you have to brush her hair. Then, you have to paint her nails. Then, you have to rub her back. Then, you have to hire a concubine because she doesn't feel like going through the pains of labor! This is out of control! Don't let it happen to you! I'm here to save lives - spread the word!

I'm exaggerating, of course. Relationships are not always wars. Probably just mine was.

This post is still under work...I'm trying to perfect the concepts here....

Hydroxycut and Me

I've been taking Hydroxycut for about three weeks now. It's done a decent enough job that I can notice on my midsection and I can appreciate that fat loss when I make quicker cuts on the soccer field, but there are more and more strange effects that I'm noticing. First of all, there's the equivalent of 2 cups of coffee of caffeine in each pill. You start off with 3 pills a day, each about 1/2 hour before a meal. After 3 days you double the dose - that's 12 cups of coffee a day! You're supposed to take the last dose 5 hours before you go to sleep so that you don't suffer sleep deprevation (though they don't specifically say that this is why on the bottle). Because of this high dosage of caffeine, I can't drink sodas, teas, or coffee anymore. Not a big deal in my lifestyle, except that I love tea drinks and boba.

So, what have been my personal experiences? I've had two nights of restlessness out of these three weeks where I've gone to bed at 4am or later even though I intended to go to sleep around 1am or 2am. That's not extremely out of the ordinary because I think a lot at night and try to find solutions to all of my problems before I can rest easy. I don't have that many problems so it's typically not that bad. Something else that recently started happening nearly every night are these really weird dreams. I'm not so crazy as to let dreams effect my cognizant life, but when you have really weird ones the emotions you felt during them stick with you for the rest of the day.

I think that what I need to do is work out twice a day in order to get rid of all of the energy that I have. I'm going to play soccer every day at lunch and then work out every day after work. I'm not sure how long I can continue this. It seems worth it because I'm in great shape and tear it up on the soccer field. I'll probably just keep it up until the bottle of pills is empty, take some pictures of myself to show to my kids one day, and then see how I do after I'm off of it.

Anybody else have experiences with work-out supplements that they want to share?

The Quadruple Flush

On my way back from Tahoe this weekend I had a sacrosanct experience after eating at Mikuni's in Sacramento on our way back. After a delectable lunch I had to possibly deuce-deuce it up before the long trip home, but I was thwarted by powers beyond those of mortal men. As soon as I opened the door I could tell that someone was in there emptying their bowels and, most likely, the gates of hell along with it. I've been in plenty a port-o-potty that necessitated holding one's breath, and even some individual stalls at work, but never an entire public bathroom. I closed the door and waited outside for two reasons. One, the bathrooms were all being used; and two, to save the rest of the restaurant from being contaminated.

After some poor souls were able to breast-stroke themselves through the dense fog of stink in order to leave, I took a deep breath and entered. At this time deuce-duece was definitely out of the question without some sort of seperate air supply. I put my water bottle down and then proceeded to divide my intentions by themselves ("uno-uno" for the mathematically or linguistically impaired) at the urinal. It was at this time that I experienced what I thought was the illogical and impossible: the Quadruple Flush. I've heard of courtesy flushes and double flushes, but never a quadruple flush. I think that his reasoning was that the smell would be able to permeate through the local sewage system, trail him, and then this disaster would be linked to him. He was most likely trying to flush his turd into the next county (and, rightfully so). Curious. Interesting. Captivating. I suppose that that would do the trick. The man is probably working from experience.

The "V" in V-day Doesn't Stand for Valentine's

The "V" in V-day doesn't stand for Valentine's. According to Wikipedia, Valentine's day was named after two or three men (?), both/all Christian martyrs named Valentine. They were thought to be martyred in 269, 270, or 273. It's rumor that while jailed, Valentine sent a card to a young woman and signed it: from your valentine. Enough boring facts. The point is that it doesn't stand for this guy anymore. I don't know any guys that get excited about the approach of Valentine's Day. Guys don't get anything and have to shell out cash to prove that they care about their significant other. For these reasons, "V-day" will now be known as "Vagina Day".

I'm cool with Vagina Day, but I would also like to propose that there is a subsequent "SB -day." You might be curious what "S" and "B" stand for. Well, what is it that a man wants and appreciates? You got it: steak and blow jobs. That would make me feel special and loved after forking out bucks for candy, flowers, and dinner. From now on, February 15th will be known as SB-day. Thanks to Gary Luu for mentioning that he's heard of this before.

More ponderings about Valentine's Day: who is that cracker baby with wings anyways? It's scary enough seeing a flying baby without putting a bow and arrow in his hands. With divorce rates up to 52% in the US, should we really be trusting our most important emotion to a hovering naked baby? I'm a pretty realistic guy. I realize that it can't be the SAME baby that gets to be cupid throughout all of time. It must be like being master of a dojo - it's handed down from generation to generation to the most worthy. Well, I think that our current Cupid is really screwing up. A lot of people have conjectured who the modern day cupid is, but I've had my own suspicions for years now: it's Gary goddamn Coleman! - he's, like, a baby for life, it totally makes sense.

Classy Ladies

This weekend I was hanging out w/ Quinn. We were on our way to a restaurant and she wanted me to hold her purse. Now, I’m a moderately leveled gentleman, but I refuse to hold a purse for anything longer than ½ a block. Standing and holding a purse is not that painful, but walking with a purse should only happen in times where time is extremely important. Anyways, she gives me this line: “A real man is secure with holding a woman’s purse”. I’m not easily fooled by blatantly illogical propaganda, so I returned with “A classy lady takes it in the a$$”. I figured that since women everywhere were jockeying for men to do what they want that men should also petition for something equally ridiculous that women do not want to do. So, gentleman, the next time your woman tries to get you to do something that just doesn’t make sense, please remember these words.

Unconditional

There are a lot of things that I used to believe in that I don't anymore. I remember one Christmas I was at my cousin's house and Santa Claus visited to bring them presents and I didn't get one because the neighbor didn't know that my family was going to be visiting. I must have believed in Santa a lot because I didn't stop crying until he brought me back a present (what a great guy). I remember reading comic books and believing that I could somehow achieve the powers that they had if I wanted it bad enough. I remember believing that I would marry my first girlfriend. I remember believing that alcohol and beer were bad. And, the latest thing that I remember believing that I do not anymore is in unconditional love.

Up until a few weeks ago, I believed in unconditional love. Unconditional love to me is when two people can be separated and have all of these fucked up things happen to them individually to push them apart and they'll still come together in the end. I always kinda thought that no matter what happened to people in their individual lives, that they were still the same people in their core and they would come together because of that. It's kind of like Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (stop reading if you haven't seen it, and plan to). They got their memory erased of each other, but then they still came back together again because of who they were in their core and what they were to each other. I thought that if all of our memories were erased, that we'd still gravitate towards the same people and have most of the same friends that we had before. I think that it's pretty obvious where this is going - I thought that the distance between Quinn and I would have little or no affect on our relationship, but I was wrong.

The one thing that I forgot is that people change. I mean, I didn't forget it, but I didn't believe in it. I've seen my high school friends go through a ton of shit in college and they're different, but they're still the same people. I haven't talked to my best friend from elementary school for years, but I know that if I saw him we'd still get along and have the same dynamic. Maybe it's that things don't change between friends, but they do for people who were in relationships. I mean, I look at the few ex'es that I've loved and I think that they're entirely different people. Maybe it's only because I knew them so well at one point that I can notice these things. Maybe it's because the moment I fell out of love, they changed to me - even if they hadn't changed in reality. Or, maybe it's because people learn from their failures and forcefully change.

This is what makes love conditional. Change. Two people could be soul mates, but if one is sent off to Iraq and the other one is sent to a missionary in South America, chances are that they'll come back home and not be able to relate. Two people could be complete opposites, but be placed into an arranged marriage or find each other when they're both looking for something serious. This couple could probably adapt to each other better than the soul mates returning from Iraq and South America. People think that it's cute to say "let it (love) fly away and if it comes back to you then it's forever". Well, fuck that bullshit. I'm not gonna sit here waiting with my arms open while some dude puts his hands all over my woman. It should be more like "handcuff it to a chair, roll duct tape around it's ankles, and strap it to your back with a post-Dale-Earnhart Nascar regulation seat belt."

I now think that love necessitates proactivity. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for taking the job at Lockheed instead of the one at Northrop, which was close to USC, where Quinn is going to school. I wouldn't say that I changed, but she changed individually without me while she was in LA. The last wedding that I went to, the groom flew all over the world to see his present-day wife - even when they were broken up. If he hadn't given this effort, then most likely they would have never gotten married. Instead of flying around the world, all I had to do is take a job that was offered to me. I was so confident in unconditional love that I believed that things would be exactly the same if I lived up here (close to my family) instead. Even one of us driving or flying every two weeks wasn't enough. Quinn used to tell me that "there are still 11 days in between for us to change." What's 11 days x 26 sets of weeks in a year x 2 years? Whatever it multiplies out to, it's greater than the number of days that love, an engagement, and a hypothetical future could hold out for.

I Don't Like Surprises

Like Holyfield when Tyson bit his ear off...like K-Fed when he got Britney's text...like the US Navy at Pearl Harbor...like Geraldo Rivera at Al Capone's Vault...like Macualay Culkin at Michael's after drinking some "Jesus Juice"...and like Faith Hill at the CMA's...I don't like fucking surprises!

I'm a type "O", or "A", or "green", or "blue", or "ENTJ", or whatever the fuck label they're putting on people that like to plan ahead. Probably that's why I'm really nervous right now. I have no idea what to plan for or what I even want. I'm the kind of person who is always living in the future instead of the present. Even when I'm doing fun things, I'm always thinking about what I want to do next. For me, it's all about looking forward to something.

In high school, it was always the next test result or the next school dance (lame, I know). In college it was always getting a degree and making money. But, now in the working world, there's nothing more than putting in my 40 a week and paying bills.

I've got to mix things up. Things need to be exciting again. Weekends need to be the reward at the end of each week. How can I do that? Isn't that what everyone wants? No more talking to my friends on Monday morning about what they did all weekend and the unanimous response is "nothing." I've decided that I'm going to spearhead the effort to at least try to make lives exciting again. I'm thinking poker nights, video game nights, drinking game nights, movie nights, BBQ's, trips to Tahoe, bowling, pool, clubs, bars, sports games, casinos, beaches, tennis, snowboarding, and maybe even a little game called 7-minutes in heaven (just kidding).

I'm going to have to name myself Social Chair and get everyone together to have fun with their lives. When I was in high school, people always said "cherish it, because this the best time of your life." When I was in college, people changed their minds and said "this will be the best time of your life." Well, fuck that, THIS should be the best time of my life. I finally have money to be able to do whatever the hell I want and a place to do it in. I can go and do whatever I feel like doing without answering to anybody else or having to explain myself.

If I keep being passive and just going with the flow I'm going to end up as an old man who just locks himself in his room and hangs out with his 14 cats while playing World of Warcraft and talking to his computer that he named "Blinky" because of the LED on the front that talks to him in morse code and sends him messages about how to defeating the Red Dragon will cure world hunger. I don't want that.

If YOU don't want that, call me up if you're doing a whole lot of "nothing." I'll call everyone else. We'll kick it...nobody will get 14 cats or take orders from inanimate objects like "Blinky."

My Own Personal Haven

One of the things that I really relish in my everyday life is going to the bathroom at work. There's no better feeling than the relief of going bathroom and knowing that you're getting paid for doing it. Only at work do I feel like I can truely take my time. When I'm at home I always think of what else I could be doing. But when I'm at work the only other thing I could be doing is working. I don't purposely try to take extra time or anything, but I have read 2 and a half books in there during the year that I've been working.

My affection for going to the bathroom at work got me to thinking about bathroom attendants. I think that they must feel the opposite of how I feel. Since the bathroom is their place of work, do they hate going bathroom at home because it's like working and not getting paid? I truely hope that attendants do not see this relaxing occasion as a painful event. If this relief can be seen as toilsome, then what's next, porn stars hating sex?

Lead-Up-to-Children Math

Almost every single woman I've talked to that's 24 and older has broken down their own personal lead-up-to-children math. Women must seriously put themselves on a timeline of when then need to do certain things in a relationship in order to have kids by whatever age they think they want them. If you ask a man his timeline he will probably describe where he will be career wise and what salary he wants to make. Ask a woman and you will get how close she is to popping out the first kid.

Here's how one of them went, not word for word:
girl: I have to have them (children) by the time I'm 35, probably before.
girl: By the time I move, I'll be 27.
girl: That leaves less than 7 years.
girl: Date someone a year, and then I'll be 28.
girl: Married at 29.
girl: That gives me 5 years.
girl: And I want to be married a few years before I even think about having kids.

Another girl I know wants to have kids by the age of 29. She's 25. So, she broke it down that she needs to be in a relationship for 3 years and married for a year. So, that gives her a year to meet her future husband. Panic time!

All this shit is ridiculous. No matter how a woman does the math it always comes up that she should be dating her future husband RIGHT NOW (or a half a year ago). It's this kind of mentality that drives good guys away from women who give them ultimatums. This kind of thing needs to stop. It's not good for the women that think this way or the men who are subjected to those expectations. I have a few friends that have been ultimatum'ed and now their ex'es are married to some deuchebags. Women all over are settling for vaginal cleansers because they're too insecure/impatient to wait for what they really want. What happens if you're married, have children, and meet the guy of your dreams? Wouldn't you trade those years that you created with the deuchebag to start over with the kind of guy you'd really want?

Here's my math:

Age 13: Can have kids...chill out.
Age 21: Can have kids...still okay.
Age 26: Can have kids...don't worry.
Age 30: Can have kids...anytime from here on out is okay.
Age 35: Can have kids...can actually afford them now.
Age 40: Can have kids...college girls may be out of the question at this point.
Age 55: Can have kids...college girls back in the picture - I would't want to take care of the kids.
Age 65: Can have kids...but probably don't want to be like Larry King.

There are other options out there. You can adopt or you can freeze your ovaries. In fact, that's what I'd like to hear from a woman - instead of a timeline of when she needs to have kids, I'd like to hear the timeline for when she needs to freeze her ovaries. A quick Google search found this site that lists costs at about $12.5K to preserve ovaries for 5 years, and $200/yr for storage after that. It would be great if woman did lead-up-to-freezing-ovaries math instead of needing to have children at that age. But, I think that would only change the ultimatums, not eliminate them. I can already tell that women would give ultimatums with an additional option. So it would be: marry me or pay for my ovary preservation by age XX. I'd be down to pay for half.

60 Days

A lot can change in 60 days. I've gone through so many periods of stagnation in my life that I never thought 60 days could make a difference. I'm the kind of person that has the next 5 years planned out, much less the next 60 days. Well, here I am, a completely different person in a different life than just 60 days ago.

60 days ago I was a 26 year old boy who was living with his cousin, working a steady job, and driving down to LA every other weekend to see his fiance. I've since done a lot of forceful growing up. I bought my first house in Sunnyvale, right next to my work. Handling all of the business, scheduling, and finances involved made me grow up real quick and take an active role in my financial goals. Taking this step and seeing money flow through my hands like water gave me the harsh reality that if things go wrong, I won't just be okay. Spending over $45K in 30 days can do that. But I have a plan, I'm pretty sure I can afford it, and my greediness to make money overcomes the uneasiness in spending it. It's a good thing I like foods like Mac-and-cheese, top ramen, and anything on a Taco Bell menu.

I've also gone from happily complacent in my job to almost feeling angrily insufficient. I thought that my Masters in Mech/Aero Engineering would be good enough for me for whatever I wanted to do, but I see all of my peers and younger getting their Masters or MBA's too. I went to talk to my manager last week to let her know that I'm serious about getting my MBA, Engineering Management, or some other degree. I mean, during the interview I had to work there, she specifically told me that she would support me getting an MBA and that work would pay for it. Well, it's out of her hands, but educational re-imbursement maxes out at $7500/semester now. Doesn't she still owe me her best effort to get me into something? I want to join a leadership program that will look good for my career and also pay for schooling 100%. The bad thing is that I'll rotate out of her group and a job that I really enjoy. Still, I'm an easy going guy and I'll probably like anything that's challenging.

As always, I've saved the biggest for last. The biggest change in my life in the past 60 days is probably what I would have defined AS my life. My fiance and I broke up on 4th of July weekend after a huge fight in Vegas. I could probably dedicate a whole website to what happened if I had the propensity and/or the time. Botttom line is that we weren't meant for each other. We were probably the closest thing to it without actually being there, but it wasn't enough for either of us in the end. The really strange and, to me, surreal part of it is that it all spiraled downhill so quickly and ended so badly. All of the negativity that came in the end made me realize that I don't need anybody else. I remember my friend Eric Jones telling me that you change and you change and then one day you think to yourself - I don't even know who I am anymore. People shouldn't have to make those kinds of sacrafices for each other, no matter how much they are in love. And, it's not easy to leave love behind. I still love Quinn and the hypothetical future that we had worked together for 3 years to build with both our visions in mind.

In the end, the letdown was so great that I couldn't even stand to talk to her anymore. Neither of us could stand it. Her, even more so. After the break-up we would spend our conversations arguing over the legistics of who's fault it was and trying to convince ourselves that breaking up was the right thing to do - which it was. I didn't have the person anymore that I could call on the phone and tell about my day. I remember that I was so excited the day that I got my house, but when I got the keys and stepped into it for the first time I realized that I didn't have anybody to share it with. When you have someone special, every day you remember what happened just so that you can tell them and you can have one more story or common opinion about something between each other. Now, I just drudge through and nobody cares about something mundane like me buying a new desk or giving a good presentation at work. After the break up, all I had was this person who I had to edit my life for so that I wouldn't be accused of something new the next day. All of my jokes were interpreted as insults and I interpreted all of her discussions with her friends as them hating me.

After all of this change, I'm left with a lot of sadness, but also a bit of excitement. I'm sad that I'm not living as close to my immediate family, cousins, and good friends Servando, Jones, and Goose. On the other hand, I live closer to some really great people that I met at work. And, I'll never stop hanging out with my brother, cousins, or the Fearsome Foursome crew. I have extra time now since I'm not commuting an hr each way to work and driving down to LA every other weekend. If I had to guess, I'd say that I'll save $450 or more a month on girlfriend expenses (gas, rental car, food, etc). My mortgage will more than offset that though. Hopefully, I'll be able to persue another degree and feel good about where I am. Hopefully, I'll also date around and not take everything so seriously. My past two relationships were 4 1/2 yrs and 3 yrs - that pretty much took me through undergrad, grad school, and into the working world. It's really going to take someone special to convince me into being my old self again. I've gotten burned too many times to have faith in anybody anytime soon. Finally, as a 26 year old man, I feel okay with being a bachelor for the rest of my life. Ever since I started thinking about it at around age 10, I've always wanted a wife and kids. But, as long as I can get some dates and I have good friends and family, then I'll be alright. Oh, and lots of money too.

I Won't Shave Until I'm 50

Since I was knocked out for the duration of my shoulder surgery on Tues, the most memorble part of the whole experience was the nurses constantly commenting to each other that I'm 26 and I look like a teenager. I decided to go into the surgery as clean as possible, so I shaved off my gotee and mustache. The nurse that escorted me from the waiting room into the operation prep room apparently thought I looked like a teenager. She told me that she thought that I was going to need my mom, who drove me to Kaiser, to escort me into the pre-op room. Then, when she got there she proceeded to spread the news and the other nurses kept telling each other. Luckily I'll be MIA from work for the next two weeks while I grow some age back. But, that made me decide: I'm not shaving until I'm 50.

That's Fucking Amazing!

There are certain things that happen to me during the course of a day that make me audibly announce: "That's fucking amazing!". I'm not talking about some feat of acrobatics or a medical breakthrough. I'm talking about someone so amazingly stupid that you are in awe of their mental handicap without the benefit of great parking. I've decided that this calls for another top 10. Each top ten will conclude with a phrase which should be used on these people.

10. Someone going below speed limit.
I'm pretty sure that the speed limits are set in an extremely conservative manner, such that anybody with a legal driver's license should be at least able to travel at this speed. It's difficult for me to comprehend that there are those lacking either the skill or sense of urgency in their own lives to want to go at least speed limit. In fact, I find that the best way to piss a cop off is to pull in front of him and then go speed limit. Two seconds later they'll zoom by you, all pissed off. I'm not completely heartless - anybody who is somebody's grandma or grandpa or has a handicapped sticker gets a free "pass" on this one. But to everyone else, it is appropriate to say: "You are an amazingly slow fucking driver."

9. Someone at work who asks the same question each day for three or more days in a row.
I'm a "team" player, but certain people are definitely in need of a kick down to the minors to work on their swing. In every office, there is the person who refuses to take notes on what you're explaining to them. Even after you outright suggest that they take notes, they're still confident in their memory. Is it possible to forget that you keep forgetting? Son, that is a amazing skill. To these people, it is curtious to say: "You have fucking amazing skills of forgetting that you forgot!"

8. Someone who you don't know that farts around you with no remorse.
I'm down for my friends fanning their farts at me if their bowels are granting them a particularly punishing day, but when it's someone that you don't know, it kind of pisses you off and makes you wonder what they're thinking. The real question is: if someone you don't know farts in your vicinity, does it become kosher for you to fart in their vicinity? It should be. It's like if someone hits your ass after a good play in sports, it becomes okay for you to pat their ass after they do something good. There's just an understanding there. I would go as far to say that it's okay to track this person down and then let it out once you're in their vicinity. At least then they know: game on. To these people say: "You are fucking amazing at making fart-buddies!"

7. Someone who can talk for hours without saying anything new.
There are certain people who can get talking about a single topic and run on that for hours on end. The story and main points will start out harmless enough, but by the 6th minute you notice some kind of pattern. Could it be that this person is saying the same thing over and over again every 5 minutes? It's like there is this reset button, and he/she forgets that he/she already said that. Then, they say the exact same things following the first point because they just re-trace their train of thought. After the second go-round, you really need to make a stop to this and say: "You are an amazing fucking circle talker!"

6. Someone with all of the sports gear who sucks at that sport.
Snowboarders are a perfect example of this. I'm not saying that every snowboarder should be doing tricks or carving double-black diamonds - but they should be mindful of what they're spending money on. A $1000 board won't make you any better than a $200 dollar board. Either will the $500 fits. Nobody I personally know is out of control on this, but I've definitely met some in college. Another example is NBA fans. There are so many people who show up on basketball courts with the new Jordans, knee-high socks, a headband, and an AI armband, but they absolutely suck. They usually try to do some ridiculous five-step travel move before doing a triple-pump in the air and missing the entire backboard. How is it that they're still allowed to play on the court? These posers should be told: "You look fucking amazingly good at playing bad."

5. coming soon...

Blogger Friend

My buddy at work, Gary Luu, just started a blog. Check it out: www.garyluu.com.

Bobs and Dicks

I work with a number of Bobs, and their formal nametags always say "Robert". This got me to thinking: how the heck do you get Bob from Robert? Rob makes sense, that's fine, but Bob is just made up. I think all guys who want to be called Bob should have to change their names to Bobert.

Another peculiar name is Dick. Who the hell came up with the decision that a nickname for Richard is Dick? It makes no sense at all. I always look at a person who elects to be called Dick with a bit of concern and bewilderment. Dicks should have to change their names as well. Since Dick is too perverse to be a name in itself, all Dicks should be Dickards.

I here decree that Bobs are Boberts and Dicks are Dickards. Spread the word.

Same Sex Marraiges

Enough is enough! I didn't care so much in 2004, when Republicans used anit-gay propoganda to re-elect Bush, but now they've gone too far!

This article explains that Republicans who control Senate plan to vote on amending the CONSTITUTION to make gay marraige illegal (in all states). That would force all states to adhere to this law because federal laws have precidence over state laws. There's no reason for this legislature at all! Why is it so important to try to create this ruling now, you may ask. It's all propoganda to try to get conservationalist Republicans to get to the polls and vote so that they'll be ready for the next elections. How ridiculous is this???!!! In my mind, if this passes, the government will become the very tyranny that we claimed our independence from in 1776. I thought that the whole point of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution was to grant its constituents freedoms, not make sure they never have them. I also believe that the Constitution's job should be to protect its citizens. But, what protection would banning gay marraige grant us? Homosexuals are all over TV and have become a part of our culture - a part of our culture that I find re-assuring. It's re-assuring to know that people won't be outcast or punished for being themselves. Homosexuality isn't hurting anybody, except those who can't accept it. It sickens me that our overbound Protestant population is so large that the real THINKERS in this country are overpowered by a bunch of biggots. Why not just go ahead and ammend the Constitution to be rid of the freedom of religion? If you're going to impose your beliefs on others, like you would with a gay marraige ban, then wouldn't it be much more to the point to just force everyone to be Protestant?

I will have lost all faith in our political system if this ban is EVER passed. To those of you who are reading this, please make it a topic of discussion and get the word out that they CAN NOT do this!

If this law passes, I will do everything in my power to try to get California to declare independence from the United States. I'm 100% serious. I will personally make it my life's work to fight against the despotism that is the United States Government. I'm not going to pretent like I'm a political expert, but I DO know right from wrong. And so should everbody else!

NSA Collects Numbers Americans Call

Great, first the NSA (National Security Agency) is caught for wire tapping, and now they're dumb enough to let out that they've also been collecting phone numbers. Now, my reaction isn't that I'm upset because my privacy has been intruded upon or that I've been stripped of some non-existant rights, but, rather, that the NSA has fucked up and leaked that they have this info. They'll might as well personally e-mail all of the possible terrorists that they know of and give them a guide book on how to be more secretive. I'm not a paranoid person, but I assume that the government knows everything about me already. That's why I don't give a rat's ass that they possibly have a list of my phone call history. I mean, think about what the government ALREADY knows. I guarantee that they know your SSN, address, phone number, e-mail address, credit card numbers, bank account numbers, salary, investments, sexual preference, and probably even whether you prefer syrup or jelly. If those things aren't things to be scared about, then why would you give a shit about your calling history?

I know that citizens' rights activists arguement is that they are slowly taking away our freedoms, and where do we draw the line. Well, why don't we just make a law that states that the government can only use these means for terrorist related charges or as evidence for crimes at the felony level? There are plenty of "due process" laws where evidence can't be used against a defendant if it was acquired in an immoral manner. How do you guys feel about this "invasion" of privacy?

Thought of the Day, April 18th

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night and fart, but almost crap your pants? And you know you have to go, but you're too lazy to get up? And you wake up a little earlier beacuse you know that you're gonna have to crap? But, when you get up you don't have to crap anymore?

Where does that crap go? Come on man, I'm up...and I'm ready this time!

Thought of the Day

Once you get over 50 it becomes okay to sleep at work.

Another Thought of the Day

Sometimes my gf asks me, "don't you want to have a daughter with an exotic name?" To which I say - "Do you know what girls with exotic names end up doing?"

Thoughts of the Day

I usually don't a have any thoughts worth sharing in any given day, but for those rare occasions that I actually have something worth mentioning, I've decided to encorporate 'Thoughts of the Day'.

Todays Thought of the Day:

Anyone who has a license plate with his/her name within the lettering should be shot.

Please feel free to post your comments or own thoughts of the day.

New Stop Signs

As you all probably know, there are a lot of things done in this country that aren't done very well. I think that stop signs could use some improvement. Whenever you get to a four-way intersection, or whatever, you can't tell which directions have stop signs right away. You have to look for signs that could be hidden by trees or stuck in a strange spot where only the driver at that stop would notice it.

My solution for this problem is that I think that signs should indicate which other directions have stop signs. They could do this by having different colors at the sides where there are stop signs for other cars. For instance, at a four-way intersection where everyone has a stop sign, everyone's signs would look like this:






















...and an intersection where only the person across from you has a stop sign would look like this:























Anyone else agree? The color could be something else other than yellow to offset the red.

Specialized Parking

If you're ever cruising around 713 Linden Ave, South San Francisco, CA you can bear witness to this highly restricted parking spot.

In case your mind isn't as perverted as my own, it appears that in order to park here you have to be riding a handicapped man or else a handicapped man getting ridden by someone. Guess this guy's still got one working "leg." I really wish that I had some hilarious comments for this picture, but I'll be like Maxim and have a "best comments" about this picture contest. Be creative!

The Biggest Cop-Out

The biggest cop out that I've ever heard is a constant excuse for being an asshole or not wanting to do ANYTHING. This excuse can get its users out of social obligations, sexual expectations, work, meetings, and basically anything that requires physical or mental activity. This overused, free-ticket-out-of-anything probably was once a valid defense, but the constant abuse has left even the most lenient skeptics agape. Yes, guys and gals, you all know what cover-up I'm talking about: PMS.

This all-too-oftenly used excuse must be subjected to some form of control! Jesus, if women were really on their periods as often as they said they were, they'd bleed to death! Any fool knows that it only occurs once a month, but even the biggest idiot doesn't have the guts to challenge a woman's feminine ambitions. And it's not like men can do the same thing. You don't see rapists getting away with saying, "Hey, I was just filled with all this testosterone, get off my back."

As men, we need to find creative ways to get away with things by blaming our testosterone - just like women do for blaming their PMS. Here are a few examples for men everywhere to use in their lives:

-"Honey, I'm sorry I didn't do the dishes/laundry/vacuuming/cooking like I said I would - I was feeling like I had too much testosterone to do that today."

-"So what if I slapped/kicked you in the face, my testosterone made me do it. Let's not make a big deal about it."

-"I didn't mean to cheat on you with your best friend/sister/MILF/GILF, it was that darn testosterone again."

-"I intended on going to work, but I was home sick all day with testosterone."

-"I would love to cuddle after sex, but the only cure for this testosterone right now is Sports Center and a cold New Castle."

-"Why do I need this medicinal marijuana prescription Doc? Well, it makes me feel better from my bad case of testicular cramps and bloating from my testosterone."

Men, feel free to be creative. Nothing is beyond the realm of possibility. Next time you find yourself in a bind, don't feel bad about falling back on good old testosterone to bail you out - women have been using PMS as an excuse for centuries!

Check For Babies

I'm not usually much of a humanitarian, but I think that time has finally matured me and I'm ready to start making contributions to society. When I started thinking of a worthy cause, I just searched my heart and discovered my love for children. So, I'm ready to live the rest of my life devoted to saving children. Here's my first effort:

I was watching Grey's Anatomy the other night and there was this guy who was pregnant. That thought was combined with my buddy Servando's loss of 4 pounds in a single day (so he says). The outcome of the two thoughts in my mind was that if it was possible for men to deliver, then maybe my buddy Servando gave birth. He thought that it might have been a big dump, but Servando, did you check your dump for a baby? Maybe there was a baby in there! You never know!!!

So, everyone, take this as a lesson: check your dumps for babies!

It gives me such a good feeling to know that I've probably saved hundreds of babies that otherwise would have just been flushed like dead goldfish.

Foundation of Society

I had this whole elaborate entry for this topic, but it was getting too long and involved way too much research. Initially I was going to describe the history of each brainstormed idea for what the Foundation of Society is in their own paragraphs. But, I wasn't getting the facts on religion and family values that I wanted, so I just quit and re-wrote the entire thing...

Sometimes I think about our modern society, and I wonder what makes our society great. What is it that society is so dependent upon, that without this ideal it would just fall apart?

At first I brainstormed the typical conclusions: democracy, religion, family values, communities, or friends. One random night out, I stopped, looked around me, and thought about what was going on. I thought about how much of what was happening was due to alcohol. Alcohol had given people a reason to get together. A common interest that knows no boundaries.

I've never underestimated the importance of sports. Sports allows people to transcend boundaries that would normally keep them from hanging out or meeting. You don't have to be of the same race, religion, age group, educational background, or economic class. All you have to have is the common interest in a sport. In fact, I make it a point to know at least something about every sport, no matter how boring it is. That way I'll have something in common with 99% of the guys I meet (I check out tabloids too so that I cover 99% of the women). And when I walk onto a soccer field for my intramural league at work, I know that there is more going on than a soccer game. I've literally met over 100 co-workers because of soccer at work. Alcohol has the same ability. People only have to have the fondness for getting drunk in common; and who doesn't like to get fucked up here and there? I already wrote about how old people's retirement plans are often getting drunk all the time.

In order to realize how important alcohol is to our society, one only has to think about Prohibition - an event so meaningful that the complete description isn't necessary for it's title. It's like calling JFK's death: Assasination. There have been numberous prohibitions in the past, but none so significant that the word takes on the meaning of the act. Prohibition lasted for only 13 years (1920-1933), during which time alcohol intake per capita increased instead of the intended decrease. Alcohol is THAT important to our society. During prohibition, people either got their hands on booze, or moved on to drugs, since both were illegal anyways.

I guess that what I'm getting at is that alcohol plays this often unseen and underappreciated role in our society. People go out drinking with their friends without even appreciating that they have something to do on Wednesday Friday nights. So, next time you go out for a drink, don't thank the bartender - thank the Alcohol. If you're a coward say, "Thank you Alcohol for giving me the courange to talk to women." If you're a white boy, say "Thank you Alcohol for giving me the ability to dance." Fat chicks say, "Thank you Alcohol for putting beer goggles on this guy." If you're an engineer, say "Thank you Alcohol for allowing me to socialize with...gulp...people in real life." If you're a female bartender, say "Thank you Alcohol for paying me the same for my cleavage that strippers get for showing their whole bodies." If you're a priest, say "Thank you Alcohol for giving me an alternative to sex." If you're a retiree, say "Thank you Alcohol for making me fun at family reunions again." And if you're a manic depressant, say "Thank you Alcohol for giving me a reason to live one more day."

Does "Fat" Smell?

So, I was dropping a deuce today at work, which is considerably less enjoyable ever since I finished reading "Angels and Demons" by Dan Brown, and I found myself surrounded on both sides. First of all, there are like 15 frickin' stalls in there, so why do people have to do their stuff right next to me? I know they see my damn feet! I'm curteous enough to stagger stalls so that I give more privacy than a wall that doesn't even extend to the ground (why don't they?) and a front wall that has considerably spaced gaps between the door and the hinges.

So, I guess I was there around peak time: 8:30am (is it just my work?) because there were a TON of people in there. I guess that's when the raisin bran starts kicking in. Some guy was humming music, the guy on my right sounded like he was busting his o-ring, and the guy on my left was getting settled. I definitely know some people that can smell up an entire public bathroom, but the stink I was subjected to was different. At first I thought it was a mean deuce, but then my senses told me it was worse: "fat" smell. I was like "wtf" and looked over at what I could see, and there were tree trunk ankles over there, so my "fat" conclusion was proving correct.

So, what the hell is that smell? Is it the smell of missing places to wash that are hidden by folds or impossible to reach due to lack of flexibility? Is it the smell of overactive sweat glands from extra "insulation"? Is it the smell of pork rinds? Does fat actually smell?

Stay With Me People!

Sorry I haven't blogged in awhile, but I promise that I have a few great ones coming up. Stay tuned.

It's a Man's World

I was feeling a bit slighted and downright bitter shortly after purchasing the engagement ring for my fiancée. Not because of the money, or anything having to do with actually getting engaged; it was the best decision of my life. No, it's because realized that I wasn't going to get anything back. Where the heck is my engagement ring? Or, even a diamond tooth, pendant, bracelet, necklace, watch, cufflinks, or something else a man would like to wear.

I couldn't believe that the men setting the conventions let me down this time. Shit, I want some bling bling. But then I realized the truth of it all. Every time Quyen came back from some social event or something, all of here friends went all googalie eyed over her ring. I felt pretty good about that, and further speculated that it would be a sure "fuck off" message for any guys trying to pick up on my fiancée. What more could a guy ask for than a shiny sign on his girl telling other guys to fuck off? It's like I'm buying a piece of real estate on her body. Maybe in the future, we'll save ourselves the financial burden and just buy tatoos to slap onto our fiancée's foreheads. That's not much different that a dot on the forehead in Indian culture. Those guys are onto something...

But the issue still remains, why am I getting slighted? Well, I'm not. It's a Man's World after all, have faith my brotha. The logic is this: men don't want to admit that they're taken. Women want to be taken, but men don't. I'm not talking about my particular situation, just why the conventions are as they stand. Wearing some engagement paraphernalia would totally fuck up a man's game, so some wise group of bachelors decided that men would get nothing in return for engagement rings. Seems backwards at first glance, but good thinking guys! You guys are so smart!

Legally, you can't own another person. But, and engagement ring around her finger is damnnn close to owning a woman. Meanwhile, no amount of money can buy real estate on a man. That is, until the wedding band...

When Sex is Not the #1 Priority

Wow, I saw this article at ESPN.com and I couldn't resist writing about it, or at least mentioning it. Women, beware, this may happen to you some day. I think that men regard sex higher than anything else in this world, but the moment right after, all other things that we should be doing with our lives flood the gates. Enjoy the article:

PANAMA CITY, Fla. -- A man who got angry with his wife because she wanted to cuddle after sex when what he really wanted to do was watch sports on television was sentenced to death for killing her with a claw hammer.

Christopher Offord, 30, was sentenced Wednesday by Circuit Judge Dedee Costello, who said the brutality of the crime outweighed any mental problems Offord may have had.

"The defendant struck his wife approximately 70 individual blows after spending a happy interlude with her," the judge said. "Her desire to cuddle after sex does not justify the extremely violent, brutal response of the defendant."

Offord pleaded guilty to first-degree murder in the 2004 slaying of Dana Noser, 40, at his apartment.

He confessed to a bartender at a sports bar before his arrest. He told investigators that his wife had been nagging him to come back to bed.

Offord did not speak in court but said in a jailhouse interview in June: "I figured I killed her so I deserve to die."

Lies Begat Lies

I updated this blog because I found it to be un-funny. Hope it's better now.

I think that amongst my friends that I have a reputation for telling strange lies at improper moments. I don't really do this because I'm a pathological liar, or because I'm an asshole or anything. I do this for my own, and hopefully, for the others' entertainment. Each lie has to be carefully delivered and crafted. You have to have your audience really contemplating whether it's a lie or not. If you make a lie too out there it will just be shrugged off and just seen as a stupid comment or attempt at a joke. If your lie isn't out there enough, people will wonder why you made up that lie, because it has little entertainment value and would be just weird. I feel strongly that if you value the entertainment of those around you, then before you go out each weekend, you should write down a few good lies to tell to your friends. In case a few of you are searching your melons and are finding nothing, here are a few suggestions:

1) A good friend who is not present acquired a new drug addiction, sexually transmitted disease, and/or sexual preference.
2) It has recently been discovered that heroin, while bad for the heart, brain, nerves, liver, kidneys, intestinal tract, and arteries, is good for keeping mosquitos away.
3) a) We're winning the war in Iraq.
b) We're really getting those Iraqi bastards back for 9/11.
4) The new Pope, in his first act, has just announced that the minimum age requirement for alter boys dating priests has been reduced from 14 to 10!
5) Ghosts are taking over your room at night- but all they do is country line dance, which is worse than actually haunting you.
6) The girl that just totally blew you off did so because she's a lesbian.
7) Animality and kiddy porn isn't all that bad once you open your mind (keep that serious looking face).
8) A couple that everyone knows recently was written about on ESPN (see next post).
9) Breathing air causes cancer.
10) The end is near! Repent, you sinners!! (followed by praising for the rest of the night).

Saying any of these would obviously been seen as a ridiculous lie. That's where the delivery comes in. If you say it with a straight enough face and with enough integrity, people will wonder for a bit. So, go forth young souls! Pick a lie or else make up one of your own for this weekend. If you can have your audience believing it until the NEXT weekend, mission accomplished.

Blogger Buddy

Hey everyone should check out my buddy Eric Jones' weblog. He's got a lot things to think about, or just laugh at.

A Cog In A Machine

When confronted with the question of the existence of the soul I am forced to first think of what defines a singular entity. A person seems the most obvious solution. But deeper thought raises uncertainty. One should ask, why would a person seem the most prevalent answer?

A person (or animal or even a plant) seems to be the only entity capable of thought. As Descartes so simply stated: “I think, therefore I am.” But are we the smallest thinking organisms? Is it possible that the very cells that we are made of are thinking too? Most people would agree that they are controlled by us, and therefore, can not posses a soul. Cells are simply reactionary, not capable of independent thought. This is what discounts them as living beings.

So, now we have hypothesized that independent thought is the base requisite. But, ask yourself this… (and this is where the open-mindedness comes in); are we capable of independent thought? Well, of course we are, or how else would I be able to write this contemplation without being ordered to do it? Perhaps I wasn’t ordered to write this, but is my writing this an act of independence or a result of my upbringing, livelihood, education, and interaction with others? Now we get to my point. It is this: are we capable of independent thought , or are we just a product of our environments, simply reacting to stimuli, as cells do in a body? The parallel is that people are cells and our environment is the body. In a way, all of Earth is a body. It harbors living organisms that react to each other to form one giant thinking entity.

But Earth can not be an entity. Why is this? It is because each of its pieces are not connected to one another. In a body, cells are connected to each other in order to relay information. With the dawn of the telephone, the television, and the internet, have we not become connected? Perhaps the physical connection escapes us, but the mental one is of greater importance (and perhaps the only important matter). Have you ever heard of six-degrees of separation? It states that if one person were to relay a message to six of his/her friends, and each of them relayed the message to six of their friends, and so on, then the message would reach the whole world. This parallels the brain wanting to move the toe. An electrical pulse (message) begins at the brain, is passed along nerves and cells, and eventually reaches the toe.
We still have much to consider. If we are simply a cog in a machine, then what does the machine do? Simple… it evolves. Its main purpose seems to be technological growth. Just as cells would arrange themselves to create a cure, people have technological growth to ensure their survival. Now, the purpose for that cure would be to use it to save a life or learn from it. Perhaps there are others observing us and seeing how we solve problems. Maybe we are a cell in a Petri dish. That would explain our origin and our meaning of life (as sad as it would be).

Most are quick to dismiss this theory of individual insignificance. This is because we want to feel important. We want to feel like our lives are more than just a sacrifice for the greater good. Believe me, they are. People contribute more than just societal gain. Most produce social benefit as well. Happiness, the love of another, achieving one’s goals- these are the reasons for living. Our social interactions are what make us unique; what give us personality. Maybe along with technological growth, we are also capable of behavioral growth. Imagine being able to observe a group of cells and learn all of the ways that they can interact with each other. By looking at these cells and their interactions, you could learn the limit to the possibilities of their interactions. If you observed these cells for long enough, the mysteries of the living universe would eventually all be solved…and I mean all of them. You would just need to create a life (the big bang), alter it if you messed up or wanted to change scenarios (the dinosaurs), and make sure they survive for long enough.

So, why would any race (or whatever created us) need to observe us if they are advanced enough to create us? Well, who’s to say we aren’t some high-school like lab experiment? Or that we aren’t just one of many ongoing experiments? Who knows!?

The Most Dangerous Place in America

When you think of dangerous places, what typically comes to mind are ghettos, possible terrorist targets, mafia hideouts, drug houses, nuceleur plants, and Deroit Pistons games. But many don't realize the dangers of what looks like an orinary parking lot in an ordinary neighborhood. Five minutes of observation is enough to convince onceself that this is, indeed, the most dangerous place in America. The place that I'm talking about is: an Asian Supermarket Parking Lot.

Some stereotypes are true- asians being bad drivers is one of them. Nowhere else have I seen such disregard for rules or lack of skill behind the wheel. Ever see a head on collision at 5 mph? Go check out your local Ranch 99. I know that everyone's learned a 3-point turn in driver's ed, but have you ever seen a 20-point turn? Follow the fishy smell. Ever seen a full parking lot with only half of the spots actually occupied, with each car diagonally parked in the parallel spots? Go where the old lady who smells like moth balls is coming from.

If you ever find yourself at one of these places, you'd better be ready to dodge cars or else give in and try to be the last one standing like it's demolition derby. When on foot, be ready to dodge cars like it's the running of the bulls. Drivers probably aren't trying to hit you or run you over, but it sure seems that way. It's like a sick game of Frogger just to get from your car into the store. But it's worth it for the milk tea.

The Evolution of Man

I decided to post something on the lighter side of life.

I never understood the introduction to each Desperate Housewives episode until Quyen pointed it out to me: the evolution of woman. It starts out with Adam and Eve and Eve picks the apple from the tree of Eden. Then, it shows women in a bunch of subservient roles until one day, the woman punches the man. Then, the Desperate Housewives are shown- modern day women. That’s a pretty good depiction of the evolution of women. I suppose that women are almost equal in our society now. I wonder how the evolution of man would go…

*camera pans to clouds and picture blurs while harp music is played*

The evolution of Man would begin a little before the evolution of Woman. Man would be walking the Earth, free of worries, hunger, pain, obligation, and, best of all, sin. Then, Woman would pick the apple and Man would wish he had that rib back. For the next few thousand years, Man would then decide to keep Woman in the house where she couldn’t do any more damage. Man would hunt for food, fight wars, and sow the land and Woman would cook, clean, and make babies. One day, Man would get tired of bringing home the bacon every day, and trick Woman into thinking that she wants to be seen as an equal, and she needs a job for that. Man would soon resent his trick when Woman began wanting more and more things. Woman wanted Man to do the laundry. Woman wanted Man to cook. Woman wanted Man to clean. Woman even began to want Man to be another Woman (which actually was okay with Man, as long as he could watch). Man tried to revolt by opening strip clubs and making difficult things like Mathematics requisite for more jobs, but the damage was already done: Woman had become like Man (sometimes literally). Now Man and Woman are in a constant battle for who’s the Man. OJ Man kills Woman. Bobbit Woman robs Man of manhood. Man creates Married With Children. Woman creates Sex and the City. Man invents sports. Woman invents shopping. Man approves of the pill. Woman insists on the condom. Man puts Victoria Secret commercials on TV. Woman puts tampon commercials on TV. Woman no longer needs man due to artificial insemination. Man no longer needs Woman due to cloning. If all of this silliness continues, I think that eventually Man and Woman will be just become Hermaphrodite. I guess it would be nice to have my own boobs…

Censored

Sorry all, my last post was removed because it was hurtful to certain parties. I thought that it was completely neutral and, if anything, an expression of my feelings for certain other parties and my sadness due to the breakup. I'm sorry that certain other parties took it that way, it was not my intention for it to be hurtful in any way. I have a lot of respect for others' feelings and I'm not spiteful or feel any hatred. I was just trying to understand the situation and get support because I feel really lost. I feel really terrible for any wrong doing on my part.

I hope, and I know, that nobody took this as an attack at certain other parties. The other parties are still the parties that I love and wish the best for. I still hold other parties with the highest regard and I’m sure my friends do too. Other parties are still good people. I think that the post was objective and just a statement of what occurred.

I wanted to apologize once again…I apologize and feel badly if context was taken the wrong way.

Maybe this issue will get resolved.

I Got A Job (for real this time)!

Finally, I can sleep at night and stop worrying about how to set myself for welfare collection. I can stop watching episodes of Con on Comedy Central, vividly taking notes on how I could make a living in the porn industry. I can stop buying a small fries every night at McDonalds, just so that I can get the free Big Mac. Yes, it's true, I got a job. I went down to El Segundo, Ca a few weeks ago to interview with Northrop Grumman, and they let me know two Tuesdays ago that they were going to give me an offer. I'm really happy with the offer- it made my decision process a lot easier.

I have to really stop here and thank Andrew Jang for submitting my resume and hooking me up with an interview. I hope that you get a bonus dude!

The interview was actually a two day event, from Thursday to Friday. NG was nice enough to fly me down there, rent me a car (an SUV, I dunno why), and pay for room and board. I got situated on United Airlines, which I thought would be better than my usual Southwest flight, but it was worse. The legroom is smaller, and the overhead compartments are sized for purses and handbags. And on the way back, it took over an hour for them to check my bag in. I almost missed my flight, even though I arrived super early. The carry on bag check took another 40 minutes. Maybe it was just because it was LAX.

I was pretty edgy getting to the Thursday reception because it started at 4:00pm, and my plane landed at 3:00pm. Even though the reception was in the hotel that they set us up in (Embassy Suites) that's still not a whole lot of time to land, get our bags, get to the car rental office, get our cars, drive to the hotel, and change into suits. They rented us Budget cars, and a guy that I met on the plane (who was also going to the interviews) and I were waiting for over 10 minutes and no Budget bus was coming to take us to the rental site. So, I did what I always do in sticky situations- I ask myself what my mom would do. We had seen at least 5 Avis buses pass by, so I flagged one of them down that had no passengers and asked her to take us to Budget, in exchange for a tip. It worked and we made it to the reception just on time.

Basically, we got to meet a lot of the important people at the El Segundo location and learn about the company. All of that, and then the whole experience was summed up into my 30 minute interview. I thought that I did badly or just average, but I can't complain now about the results. The sweetest thing was that they set me up in the Embassy Suites until Sunday. So, I used that time to visit my girlfriend and enjoy reimbursable meals. If you ever stay at the Embassy Suites, remember this: they have a FREE bar open between around 5:00pm and 7:30pm for all residents. You just show your room key card and they give you two drinks at a time- beer and well drinks.

Well, I'm really going to miss the Bay Area. I've lived in Nor Cal my whole life. I promise not to become superficial and/or get pectoral implants in So Cal. I'll always keep it real and boo the Dodgers, Lakers, and Raiders (if there are Raiders fans left) while cheering for the Giants, Kings/Warriors, and Niners. I'm going to really miss my family and the friends that I made up here. I'll be sure to keep in touch and visit once a month, or as much as possible. On the positive side, I'm going to get to see a lot more of my girlfriend, and hopefully get to know her family better. That's something that's really important to me, and I don't know if I would get that opportunity if I lived up here my whole life.

I'm off to work for The Man, around the middle of June. Wish me luck!

#1 Type of People I Hate Most

*Bum da dum, ba bum da da dum da dummmm*

Here it is, the exciting conclusion that has been keeping America on its toes. The votes are in and the judges have confirmed. The number one type of people that I hate most is: The Man.

1) The Man
Okay, I know that you're thinking. The Man isn't a type of people- it's singular, he's a man. No my friend, you're wrong. The Man is all around us. He is Big Brother. My definition of the man is basically anybody or any entity that controls you against your will.

Most people think that their boss is The Man. If The Man is big brother, than your boss is more like twin sister. Yeah, (s)he can tell you what to do, but (s)he can't make you do squat. You have more of a partnership with your boss, like you would with your twin sister. If your sister treats you bad you can always rip the heads off of her barbies (do bad or counter-productive work) and then she'll end up telling on you (getting you fired). But you have that option (I, personally would never do that though). And, don't you think that your boss thinks that his boss is The Man? None of these people are The Man. Nobody knows who The Man is. Otherwise, he wouldn't be The Man. He would be Mr. Bush, or Mr. Gates, or Mr. Swedish Junk Furniture. The Man are the people behind the people.

Any time that you have to watch the same news over and over again, it's because of The Man. Any time that some new crap ass car comes out with 50 miles to the gallon, when really they can make cars that get over 200 miles to the gallon, and we are supposed to feel excited about it, it is because of The Man. Whenever an African American community is held down by drugs or vices to keep them in ghettos, it is because of The Man. Even whenever you have to pay a speeding/parking ticket, a property tax, a "processing" fee, a hidden bank fee, or just pay for anything that should really be free, it is because of The Man. Even if you just wanted to live on your own land and hunt and gather your own food, there's bound to be some tax that you owe.

Did we really agree to all of these things that are going on?

I don't remember signing a paper allowing the use of my tax dollars for the attack on Iraq. I want a tax refund since there were no weapons of mass destruction found. Where is my Desert Storm II (what it really is) Refund Check? And when should I expect to get my Operation Iraqi Freedom Refund Check?

I don't remember voting down stem cell research. I remember voting for it in California. But that still is at a greatly inflated cost and with enormous restrictions.

I don't remember voting down gay marriages. My cousin, Geoff, recently made a very good point. Gay people who want to get married are the ones who really love each other the most. They're not in it for the tax breaks and they're not out making big mistakes that have divorce rates increasing each year. They're in it for the recognition and the sanctity of the union. How ironic that the people who cherish marriage the most are the ones who are unable to marry.

Why do the rich get richer and the poor get poorer? It's all because of the way that The Man set up our society and because of who he wants to take care of, and who he wants to pay the price for it. You hear all of the time about some kid coming out of poverty to rise above, get an education, and make something of him/herself. That's great. But that is nowhere near as common as the story of the rich kid who doesn't do jack and gets ushered into his fortune. And that kid who came from poverty will probably end up working for the rich kid, making him even more money.

The Man gets a piece of every pie. Every shirt that you buy, every donation you make, every TV show you really like, every steak that you eat, and every breath that you breathe is owned by The Man. Every image that gives you a good feeling inside and makes you happy was put there by The Man.

Am I bitter? At some things, yes. Am I happy? Yes. Do I feel like I need to change the world and get rid of The Man? Surprisingly, no. Somebody has to run things. In some ways, I'm glad that some of the bad things are there. Would I be doing well if others weren't doing badly? Sadly, probably not. Everything is Yin and Yang. The evils of The Man are tolerable for the order and humanity that is in our society. But like Jay-Z says: I can't help the poor if I'm one of them, so I got rich and gave back, to me that's the win-win. Meaning, allow the system to be as it is, and go with it, but don't forget about your own morals.

10 Types of People I Hate Most (Cont)

Okay, time for me to stop slacking. Sorry to all (4 or less) people who have been coming to my blog and finding the same old stuff. I also wanted to make #2 and #1 really good and put some thought into who I really hate.

So, here goes:

2) People who are always wrong, but think that they're always right.
The loudest person you know is probably the stupidest as well. This person throws logic out of the window and replaces it with loud shouting or meaningless insults. This person thinks that "your mom" is a valid reply to any argument against him/her. I admit that I think that the occasional "yo mama" is appropriate to answer people's questions when they're asking too many questions, but I won't use it in serious debate. This person won't even budge when a room full of you all are trying to tell him/her that (s)he is wrong. You can not reason with this person. Some people have almost a unique sense of reality. No, Iraq did not cause 9/11, no, evolution is not a myth, no, not all asians are good at math and not all blacks are good athletes, no, that triangle scheme will not make you rich, no, women and men are not equal, and, no, Brad Pitt did not cheat on Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie (thanks to Quyen for this one).

This person is typically a testosterone filled idiot or a feminist moron, but can also be in the form of a normal person who tries too hard to be intellectual. You do your best to avoid these people, but they somehow hunt you down and you find yourself clenching a fist or thinking of ways to torture people, while still keeping them alive (sorry, I just watched Sin City). The macho pig is usually talking about how the sex was with some woman he never had sex with or else how much money he has in the bank when it's really in credit card debt. He thinks that women love it when you fart and wave it around and that an abused woman got what she deserved. The feminist cow is blirting out ridiculous claims like women's sports are catching up to men's sports, or that women don't need men anymore. The worst is the stupid intellectual. This person forces his/her way into cliques of smart people and jumps in a conversation when whatever (s)he saw on CNN that day comes up. Having no ideas or opinions of his/her own, the ideas that (s)he tries to pass on as original come out as a recording of the daily news...Wow, Bush saved us from the terrorist you say?...The US is helping things get better in Israel, really?...Yes, the KKK should be allowed to meet...I didn't know that the US is so loved around the world...What, Batman and Robbin saved the day again? Stop trying so hard to be smart. Just be how smart you are. I hate politics, and I'm ignorant about 1/2 the things that go on in the world. But I can admit that. I have my opinions, but I can give someone credit for proving me wrong. People who never think that they're wrong lose credibility. After that, nobody believes them, even when they're right.

I hate to do this again...but, to be continued...

At least I'll tell you #1. #1 is: The Man.

Chimpanzees ate my balls!

I was playing Counter-Strike today and, of course, the guys on there were talking about the weirdest things that they heard lately. I didn't believe what they were saying until I google'd 'chimpanzees ate balls' on Google. I found the hilarious Chimpanzees story.

Of course, you wouldn't get the real headline by reading what CNN calls the story ('Chimps critically injure sanctuary visitor'). The headline should read 'Chimps eat man's balls and foot.' Sometimes I wish that every news broadcast could be like The Daily News. I feel bad for the guy, but it's hard to when you think about how stupid he was. Basically, they were celebrating thier old pet chimp's birthday- which had gotten taken from their home for biting off part of a woman's finger. Hello! That could have been your balls...oh wait, it was this time...and your face...and your foot...and you got dragged around like a rag doll. It doesn't help that he looks like a silverback with all that hair. Was anyone surprised when Roy of Siegfried and Roy got attacked by that White Tiger? No. But at least Roy wasn't prancing around in a deer costume.

10 Types of People I Hate Most

Hey y'all. It's been awhile since my last post. I don't like posting stuff that's boring or too overly personal to be read. So here's an anecdote:

10 Types of People I Hate Most

10) Ugly people that think they're pretty
Celine Dion. I hate that bitch. She thinks she's so pretty when really she's one of the ugliest people on the planet. Kill Celine Dion, she's the devil.

9) Flaming Homosexuals
I can handle a normal homosexual. I even take solace in the fact that I can walk around SF and see two guys kissing or holding hands without anyone thinking that it's weird. That's cool. What's not cool is when gay guys feel that they need to let the whole world know that they're gay. You know, the one's that are always wearing bright pink and bouncing off of the walls, talking with their fake lisps and blinking excessively. These people affectionately refer to men and women alike as "girlfriend" or "sister." These people make me want to kick them in the penis so that they remember what they are.

8) Cheapskates
It's one thing to be frugal, and it's another to be cheap. Cheapskates will argue with you over the bill until you end up paying their tax and tip because you ate more of the bread that the waiter brought to the table. Cheapskates will use your toothpaste, soap, shampoo, TV, and couch for free, but insist that you share the cost of the new light bulb they bought for your lamp. They will use your toilet paper when you put some on the roll, but as soon as it runs out they take their own roll in and out with them when they go bathroom. They eat your food when you're not there. They borrow your car and don't put in any gas. They defy all reasoning of what is fair and just in this world. Oh well, at least you're not going on dates with one of these people...or are you?

7) Smelly people
Anyone who walks by you, and you have to hold your breath until the stench that follows them passes by, falls into this category. Everybody knows someone or has passed by someone who refuses to take hygiene seriously and shower or wash that old sweatshirt (s)he wears every day. I don't mind a stink from working out or just being out all day, but it gets out of hand when your funk is permanently fused your skin. I'm tired of holding my breath when smelly people walk by, too afraid to breath because of the possible diseases I could be ingesting.

6) Spoiled kids
Even if you went to a public high school, there was at least one of these kids who thought that they were the shit because their mommy and daddy bought them a new BMW. All of the kids who appeared on MTV's "Sweet 16" show about their ridiculous sweet 16 birthday parties epitomize this category. You are not better for what you have. You didn't even earn what you have, your mom and dad bought it for you. I hope that you'll be broke one day in your cockroach infested one room apartment and realize that you have to work in this world to get what you have.

5) FOBs
Fresh Off the Boat. I'm talking particularly about Asians here, but there's a group of these for every race. I'll just use Chinese since they are my biggest gripe. These are the type of people who speak English, but only speak Chinese to each other, even when you're around and they know you don't speak. I don't know if there are different volume meters for different languages, but once someone starts speaking Chinese, it sounds 10 times louder. And then there are the FOBs who smoke cigarettes while in the crouching position outside of Cyber Cafes next to their loud rice rocket Honda Civics with their Tommy Hilfiger jackets on. They make all Chinese people look bad and should start getting deported more actively than Mexicans. Let's not confuse them with BOBs (Been Off the Boat, my new term). BOBs are great. They realize that they're in America now and that we speak English and don't need moth balls in all of our clothes. I think that I would rather be a BOB than an ABC (American Born Chinese). They still have a lot of culture and are embracing the American lifestyle.

4) Rude people
Being polite can get you far in this world. Unfortunately, being rude can also cause a lot of bad things to happen to you. I have a friend (who will go unnamed, except that his initials are EBJ) who wiped feces all over some girl's car just because he felt like she was rude. Don't let that happen to you (and if you do, I have a good idea of who it was). Being rude to me is one thing, but being rude to my lady is something that will drive me crazy. It makes me feel like yelling at that person and making him feel so bad that the next day he throws himself off of the nearest bridge.

3)Loud people
You've met this person. She's the trick bitch on the opposite side of Starbuck's who's yelling her brains out to tell her friends about how her boyfriend is cheating on her- and that she still loves him. She yells because she thinks that her life is so interesting that it would be a crime if someone didn't hear a syllable of what she had to say. Her friends want to tell her to shut up or keep it down, but she's too busy rambling on about how Brad Pitt is sooo her type and pointing out that homeless people need to get jobs. She doesn't speak to keep her listeners interested, she speaks because she likes the sound of her own voice. SHUT UP BITCH!


To be continued...

What type of people do you hate most? Please comment.

My Court Experience

Due to popular demand (1 person), I have been forced to re-live the hell that is the United States Justice System. More specifically, the Burbank County Justice System.

I've already written the intro and the conclusion to my experience, but a lot is missing in between. And I have a lot of gripes.

A 4" bladed knife was found in my carry-on bag at Burbank Airport on my way back to Oakland on October 11th. The knife folds down into a casing. I was informed that if the knife was exposed or it was larger than 6", it is a felony. I had no idea that the knife was there, and they didn't find it on the way to Burbank (unfortunately). The only way that I can think of how the knife could have gotten in there was that I recently had moved from Davis back to Pacifica, and I remember throwing that knife into some pile of junk I was sorting. The knife must have fallen into my travel bag that I always use to visit Quyen (this is why I didn't check it before boarding each way). At the Burbank Airport, they detained me for about 10 minutes, wrote me up a ticket, and sent me on my way. The officer who wrote me the ticket told me that it was manditory to write one, and that it was a misdemeanor. I was shocked. Now that I think about it, I don't think that he did have to write that ticket. The ticket is for knowingly possessing a phrohibited item, but I stated repeatedly (and they have my statement written down) that I did not know that the knife was in there. I've talked to a few people who have had (large) knives in their bags and they were just confiscated.

A month later I had to appear in court. During this time defendants watch a 20 minute instructional video on what it means to plead guilty, no contest, hire a lawyer, or defend themselves. The baliff calls each case and asks for a plea. I opted to hire a public defender since I didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I originally intended to fight the case. My case is pretty strong. They have me on file saying that I did not know the knife was in there. The witnessing officer could support that in court. I have no motive for knowingly bringing a knife aboard a plane (citizen all my life, educated, taken same flight before, etc). And I have no previous record.

But my case isn't perfect. They didn't find the knife in Oakland Airport, so the knife being in there as a result of my moving from Pacifica to Davis may seem unlikely (they may think the knife originated in Burbank). My knife randomly falling into my bag seems also unlikely.

But these things did happen. And I would think that they happen often- that someone has something in their bag that they didn't know was there. Of course, my (65+ yr old) public defender had never heard of a case like this (in all her years). And when I asked her if she thought we would win, she said "no." Great. That made me feel really great about fighting the case. I'm sure that if I hired a private lawyer that I would have won, but I was broke and a lawyer would have been at least a few grand. I didn't want to obligate, nor would I want my parents to foot that bill either.

Lucky for me, my mom is an extremely savvy and intelligent woman. She asked people that she knew about my case and prodded around asking questions. I was trying to figure things out too, but I'm not nearly as close to as proficient as my mother. She's the type who will go into a store and somehow end up getting everything half off. I'll get maybe a free nudey calendar from my mechanic after getting my transmission rehauled. I tried calling my friends in law school, talking to a relative who's a lawyer, looking stuff up on the net, and I managed to get some info out of that public defender. But my mom talked to the public defender a few times and then the defender worked out a plea bargain with the prosecution. The plea bargain was that nothing goes on my record, I had to do 80 hours community service (hard labour)($80) and I had to enroll in the APPS program($300). I remembered that I had my shoulder surgery less than a year ago, so the court was able to give me community service where I wouldn't have to wear an orange jumpsuit on the side of the freeway. Rather than facing possible jail time and having the conviction on my record if found guilty, I took the plea bargain.

The problem with a idea of a public defender in this system is that they basically have no motive for helping you out. Self motivated, determined lawyers are ideally chosen for this position, but after 30+ years, that kind of trickles off. The only priority for the public defenders is to get you through the system and out of their hair as fast as possible. They don't care if you're innocent or guilty, as long as your case is off of their desk. Do you think that they want all of their clients to be innocent and fight the system? Hell no. Only private lawyers are immoral enough to want that.

I still feel jacked. I really don't see anything that I could have done to prevent the situation. Everything was a series of unfortunate events. I never knew the knife fell into my bag, I never checked the bag because it's the same bag I always use (lesson learned, but difficult to say I should have prevented), I got a public defender that didn't want to help me, and I got a plea bargain with way too many hours. Shit happened. I was faced with either wasting time and a bit of money, or else a lot of money. No way around it. Maybe I should have fought my case with the public defender. Most likely I would have- except that the court dates would have been for Christmas and Christmas Eve (for which my family had already made plans). So, I was thankful to my mom for helping me out, didn't like the idea of possible jail time, took the plea bargain, and went home to underwear for Christmas.

A lot of things should have happened to prevent this. The knife should have landed somewhere else, or they should have found the knife in Oakland (they just confiscate there), or the officer at Burbank should have realized that I'm not guilty unless I know the knife is in there, or the judge should have dismissed the case, or my public defender should have been competent, or the case should have been on a different day than Christmas.

So that's it. I'm done. Through. Enough. Please, everyone, for God's Sake, check your damn bags before boarding a plane. And when you're wondering why you're going through the trouble of doing this every time, don't Remember the Titans- remember Matt Lee.

Natural Selection

I was watching the NFL pro-bowl events today and I noticed that after they won most of the players said, "I'd like to thank God for giving me these gifts." But why doesn't anyone ever take the Darwinistic approach and say, "I'd like to thank my ancestors for their genetic selections"? I mean, they were basically given their physical abilities through their parents, right? You know Shaq doesn't have anyone in his gene pool who was under 5 ft tall or anything. Speaking of Shaq, have you seen his wife? She's under 5 ft tall. C'mon big guy, don't you feel like you owe it to the world to mix with someone who can give us the next Shaq? Now you're just going to have ugly babies that can't make up for their ugliness by being good at basketball. Shaq, you need to take a good look at Yao Ming's parents and tell me that you can't do the same thing. Sure, you may hate your wife and you may even hate your kids, but take it for the team u big bitch. At least donate some DNA to put in Lisa Leslie or something. What an asshole, jeez.

I definitely feel a duty to do my ancestors right and marry someone who will improve my lineage. I'd like to get a shot out some day from my grandkid or something while he's getting the Pulitzer or Nobel Prize, thanking me for combinding my nerdish genes with a brilliant woman's. I'll be honest, I wouldn't be with a woman for any substantial amount of time if I thought for a second that she would fuck up my gene pool. Not that I'm all high and mighty on who I am or anything, but I do okay for myself. On a bit of a stranger note, has anyone ever just looked at a (wo)man and not even cared about who (s)he was, but just wondered what your kids would be like with that person? There were plenty of ugly or annoying bitches that I hated in high school, but I just would have liked to have had kids with them. I mean, not even have sex with her, just have kids. Not even bring the kids up, just see how they turn out. Not even care who the kids are, just wonder what they look like and what they achieved. This is probably how airline pilots and male stewards fine their vocation. Perfect way to have kids around the country, or the globe- have your work pay for it.

Back to reality, so far I feel like I'm going to do my ancestors right. I haven't talked about her really, but Quyen Nguyen is really a special woman with beauty and brilliance in one (small) package. On top of that, she's got a personality and a heart that amazes me every day. Happy Valentine's Day baby. <3

Court Experience

I decided not to re-live the pain of my court experience unless someone actually wants to hear about it. If I get a comment, I'll post it. If not, I'm glad it's over with.

Retirement Plans

A few days ago, I was in Sophia's in Davis, talking it up with my buddies and I related to them my retirement plans: to drink beer, watch movies, play video games, and play bingo all day. I forget who said it, but one of my choronies told me that that's what old people do already. Man, so my idea wasn't so original. He told me that old people just get drunk all the time and when you see them at the grocery store that they're always getting alcohol. I've never heard of that. My grandparents always seem too frail and wise to do crazy shit like that.

Well, I didn't believe him...until today. I went to Costco to get some necessities since I'm moving back to Davis from Pacifica. It was the middle of the day, so the only people that are out are housewives/husbands, the unemployed, college students, and old people. So, I saw a good amount of old people around. As I was eating my $1.50 polish dog and soda combo I was looking around in people's carts and all of the old folks had alcohol! And this being Costco, there was tons of it. I was amazed. The first cart had 5 bottles of wine and a giant jug of Absolut. The second cart had a case of Flat Tire and a case of Carona. The third cart had two bottles rum and a flat of Coors. So, the next time you see an older person at the grocery store, take a peek into their cart and you'll see that I'm right.

Are old people everywhere are getting blitzed with each other? At this moment, are my grandma's tilting their heads back and taking beer bong hits while their friends yell "drink, drink, drink...yeah!!"? I've heard of secret clubs in the City where only those posh enough to be in the right crowd are invited, but are there senior citizen, secret clubs where all the old folks go to throw down a few and get their groove on? Are there senior citizen frats and sororities, where they all get drunk and randomly hook up with each other? I mean, let's be honest, a lot of them are widows by now. It's like college all over again.

Do we get to re-live our college lives in retirement? I, for one, hope so. Think about it. Aren't retirement homes an awful lot like the dorms? Your neighbors are right across the hall, there's a dining commons, community events are regular occurances, others around all pretty much your age, and, apparently, there's tons of alcohol. Only in a retirement home, there are no RA's and no classes to disctract you from having good times. The only down side I can think of is...sex. So, what replaces that?

Poor Kid

I just felt the inclination to share a little something that happened that I thought was a bit funny today. I was in the grocery store getting some cereal to eat for dinner and I hear over the load speaker "Tim, your mom is waitinig for you in the front." I just got a flashback of all of the embarassing things my parents did to me growing up. Some guy must have been thinking the same thing because he said "Poor kid, that's embarrasing." But then I see this 40+ year old man running to the front with a jug of milk in his arm. It was Tim.

One embarrasing story that I can think of that was caused by my parents was the last time my girlfriend came to visit me and we hung out with them. They always remember stories of you in the most embarrasing ways. I swear that half of them are made up. Anyways, they recounted about how I used to suck my thumb until the 3rd grade and that they had to put a cast over my thumb to get me out of the habit. Of course, my dad throws in, "Yeah, and he sucked through the whole cast!" First of all, I don't think that's possible without causing some major health issues. Second of all, I distinctly remember dismantling that thing and throwing it in the trash. Girls used to think it was cute. I wonder if they would dig it today. Nah, it would probably be just construed into some weird Freudian oral fixation having to do with strippers, two goats, and a pirate named "Willie."

Anyone and everyone, please post the most embarrasing story your parents can't help but tell whoever you're trying to impress at the moment. Or else, tell a story about when they just embarrased you.

Quyen Nguyen

Quyen in Tahoe

Since I started my blogs, my girlfriend, Quyen, has asked me why she hasn't been mentioned. This is the end of that.

Goodbye to Goodwill

Wow, I just finished my community service at Goodwill. Everyone that I tell that I'm done keeps saying "wow, that was fast." Yeah, well I guess if you're on the outside looking in, it may seem fast. But not when you're spending 10 hours a day picking up clothes and wracked with allergies that make your head hurt when you sneeze. Not when you're looking at your watch every 5 minutes, thinking that it's been 30 minutes. Not when you're forced to check if your watch is broken every night when you get home, actually thinking that it runs backwards when you're not looking. My allergies made me so tempted to just start using shirts as handkerchiefs. The last two days were hell. There was this $2 sale, where all clothes were $2. Needless to say, tons of people showed up and started just throwing clothes on the floor. Guess who had to pick them up and hang them again? Yo (points to self). I've never had allergies that bad before. Two consecutive nights I was unable to sleep because I couldn't breathe or my nose would start running and wake me up. On a positive note, I was able to donate $3000 of goods for my tax deduction.

I mentioned sneezing in the paragraph above and it made me think of the most painful thing that your body does to itself. Has anyone ever woken up in the morning or ran to the bathroom with a bladder full of pee, barely making it there, and letting loose with full velocity? I'm sure everyone has. But have you had the unfortunate circumstance of also catching an itch on your nose and having to sneeze at the same time? You're already peeing at maximum force, and then this huge gush tries to make you pee even faster...that just plain sucks. It's like there's a little implosion right there in your privates. Why Body, why would you do that to me? Next time I have to sneeze while peeing I may just hold my nose closed and blow out my eardrums instead. Then we'll see who's boss. Bitch-ass Body.

I keep promising to write about my court experience, and probably nobody cares anymore (or ever cared) but I'm a man of my word and I'll get that out since I'll have more time because Goodwill is overwith.

I Got A Job!

Okay mom and dad, before you get excited, no- it’s not at Lockheed Martin, Boeing, Raytheon, or Genentech. I got a job at Goodwill, where I’m doing my community service. I pretty much got jacked and was assigned 10 days (80 hours). Shit, I mean, drunk drivers get 2 days; people caught stealing get 60 hours.

The end result of my case of “possession of a prohibited item in a sterile area” charge was a plea bargain of 10 days community service and assignment into APPS. I took the plea bargain because I didn’t have the money to hire a private lawyer and I didn’t like the idea of possible jail time (what choice did I really have?). APPS is something where I have to watch a video and complete a workbook. I decided to work 8 10 hour days instead of 10 8 hour days, but it’s hella tiring. I work form 10am to 9pm. Goodwill isn’t a bad place to work at, but I thought that I might get a chance to work with senior citizens or problem kids. At least that way it would have made sense why I was put in that position- maybe I could have helped someone out and changed their lives. Now, this shit makes no sense to me again and the only fulfillment I get is that it opened my eyes to the world of Goodwill. Seriously, it’s like a whole different world. It’s a world where nobody is superficial or judgmental and you can get a “new” suit for $20. In this world, everyone can afford warm clothes and blankets. Books to read are 50 cents and Backstreet Boy CD’s are $2 (Oh joy!). Customers are friends and criminals are upstanding citizens. You can drop off a bag of T-shirts and claim them as however much you want in order to make sure you get your maximum tax break for the year. This place is so fantastic that you can now replace “shopping” with “working.”

Not that my experience has been a ball of fun. All day, you stand and rack clothes, shoes, dishware, records, electronics, appliances, furniture, bags, purses, toys, books, linens, ceramics, and whatever else is in a typical household. Good thing I’m not a germ-a-phobe because some things are plain nasty! Shoes have the expected funk, but the worst things are linens. Better check the sheets before you buy them because chances are there’s a poop stain right in the middle. Okay, I didn’t actually see poop stains, but there are definitely some unsolved mysteries appearing on these things.

I’ll write more about the whole (BS) judicial process in my next post.

Register

Damn fools, just register. I don't always know who's leaving these posts. This is run by Google, so they won't spam you. Also, you can reserve that sign in name in case you want to make a blog later.

Tsunami in Indonesia

I can't believe the devastation that has recently taken place in Indonesia and other lands in the Indian Ocean coast. Just a few facts before I start: the earthquake was the largest in at least 40 years, registering as 9.0 and originated off of the coast of Sumatra. This earthquake shifted tectonic plates about 10 meters, displacing hundreds of cubic kilometers of water up to speeds of 500 km/hr and creating a massive tsunami with waves 4 stories tall. Seismologists say that after 7.0 earthquake magnitudes increase exponentially. At this time there is an estimated 88,000 dead in Indonesia, Malaysia, Thailand, Burma, India, Sri Lanka, and Somalia, but approximations are above 100,000.

People could do nothing but watch as their loved ones were swept away right in front of them. Some may never know what happened to their family and friends as some of bodies have to be burned and buried without being able to identify them. In recent history, last year Dec 26th, 2003 the 6.5 earthquake killed 26,000 in the city of Bam in Iran. The world is still trying to keep up with the needs there, falling well short of the $1 billion promised (only $17m) and with tens of thousands still homeless. People from the Bay Area can remember the 7.2 San Francisco earthquake of 1989 that caused nearly $1 billion in damages, but was limited to 62 deaths. The largest recorded earthquake in history was in Chile on May 22, 1960 registering in at 9.5 and taking less than 2,300 lives.

This should prove to be an eye opener for earthquake research, just like 9-11 was for terrorism. Before 9-11, people thought that the package bombs in New York (I forget which building) threatened our security and caused unwarranted death. But after 9-11, the world saw what terrorism was really capable of and decided to take it seriously. The thing that separates the quakes in Iran and San Francisco from the quake near Indonesia is that they were land-based quakes, while the Indonesian quake took place in the ocean. Land based quakes have devastated populations in the past, but were limited to a single country. The capability of destruction of quakes on the global level comes forth in the form of tsunamis. Maybe the world will know that it's their problem too, not just the countries located in the "ring of fire."

The biggest impact of this event is all of the homeless that now roam the streets. Please donate money and/or time to an earthquake relief organization. Some are Unicef (www.unicef.org), Oxfam (www.oxfam.org), AmeriCares (www.americares.org), and Network for Good (www.networkforgood.org). Many organizations are taking volunteers to help pack and collect food to send abroad. I'm broke as hell, but I still donated. I mailed in my money so that they couldn't keep me on some list to call every month. If anyone knows of a place in the Bay Area where people can donate their time and/or money, please post.

The Hotspot

I'm trying to get some search engine hits, so I'm going to write some words that appeared on AOL's top search list of 2004 and some I think should be there: sex, terrorist, Britney Spears, Paris Hilton video, Janet Jackson nipple, Oprah, Bush, beheadings, hurricanes, Scott Peterson, Iraq, Martha Stewart, Michael Jackson, south beach diet, low-carb, stem-cell, Desperate Housewives, stocks, American Idol, Survivor, Sims, Halo 2, Half-life 2, sale, free, viagra, celebrex, lipitor, zocor, prevacid, win, naked, nude, virus, tsunami, earthquake, Indonesia, and tital wave.

I'm Not a Terrorist

As some of my friends may or may not know, I was recently charged with a misdemeanor at Burbank Airport. My whole experience has been embarrassing, nerve-racking, ridiculous, scary, and angering. What happened is that there was a knife in my carry on bag that I did not know was in there - until airport security found it. For the legal types, it is Penal Code 171.5.b. The law states that I am guilty if I knowingly had the knife in my possession. The thing is that I, of course, did not know.

How the knife got in my bag without my knowledge is that just before the date the knife was discovered (10/11) I had recently moved from Davis, Ca to Pacifica, Ca. The only memory that I have of the knife is taking the knife out from underneath my bed where I stored it and throwing it into some pile of stuff. Somehow, that knife must have fallen into my travel bag that I always take to Burbank to visit my girlfriend. That is the bag that I always use, so I didn’t check the contents of the cosmetics compartment because they never change (let this be a lesson). They did not find the knife on my way down from Oakland (which I wish they did so I wouldn’t have to go to court in Burbank), so I ended up in Burbank’s courthouse.

So, great, I have to show up to court for this misdemeanor. Even better, I can’t afford a lawyer. I get a (80 something yr old) public defender who doesn’t give a crap if I’m innocent or guilty, just as long as she doesn’t have to work too hard. I just got back from trial this week and I’ll post the results of my trial in due time, but I want to first hear the opinions of others. What do you think was the outcome? What do you think should have been the outcome? What would you have done?

I’ll post in a weeks time.

Website Ideas

As mentioned before, the ultimate goal of my blogs is to create a website where people can discuss new and exciting topics and form a community bent on changing laws or ideals. I've tried to reserve a few names which I thought would be good for this website. I tried www.changethelaw.com, www.voiceofthepeople.com, and www.voiceyourself.com but all were taken. Actually, www.voiceyourself.net is available. Any suggestions as to what else I should try? You can go to www.godaddy.com to check availability.

Multi-speed freeways

I figured that for my first REAL post, I have to write some important “shiz.” Actually, I wanted to write “shit”, but I’m not sure if it’s allowed. I guess I’ll find out now. I’d actually be pretty disappointed if it’s not because swearing is a really important part of expressing oneself and keeping with the true mood of the moment. On with the post…I have been ranting to my friends for months now about my idea that freeways should not have a single speed, but instead have multi-speed lanes. Each lane to the left of the previous one should be 5 mph faster than the one to its right, with the maximum speed reaching 80 mph. There are a few major reasons that I have thought of as why this should be so. First, multi-speed lanes will naturally stagger traffic and prevent the dangers and inconveniences of “pacing.” Second, it is an unwritten rule of freeways that the leftmost lanes are the “fast” lanes and the rightmost lanes are the “slow” (aka truck or senior citizen) lanes. Third, the speed limit is realistically to slow for modern times. And lastly, there would be less lane changing by drivers in order to find a lane with their preferred speed.

This post will be modified as I have time to write more. Feel free to comment at any time.

First Post

Hello World! This is my first ever blog. My hope is that I will be able to stimulate minds into thinking about topics below the surface. I really want to elicit a reaction and get feedback on my ramblings and ideas. I want to bring minds together to make a real change in how we think and act. If I receive enough of a response, I’m going to set up a website with forums and a central location where members can read about and comment on new interesting topics. I know that there are others out there that have great ideas about how we should change things, but feel powerless on their own. Don’t be content in telling your friends or writing one letter to your local governor- speak out and share your brilliance with other progressive minds like your own. Together, we can create change.

Some topics that I have in mind for discussion are: traffic laws, morality, terrorism, technology, the job market, women, influential movies, and yo mama. Keep it real.