Sexual harrasment.

An old lady touched my left nipple today.

Without permission.

And she didn't even have the courtesy to apologize afterwards.

That wrinkly old bitch.

That's what happens when you have 5,000 people trying to swim in a 2' x 4' pool. OK, I was exaggerating. But you get the point.

Living in Lala land where the clocks don't tick.

I have too much free time on my hand.

That’s not good ‘cause I’ll end up doing things I really shouldn’t be doing.

Things like:
1. Jack off.
2. Think about sex EVERY SINGLE second. Not every 8 seconds that studies have shown, but EVERY SINGLE second.
3. Jack off.
4. Think about how big of a loser I am.
5. Jack off (to take my mind off step 4)
6. Wonder why am I still single.
7. Jack off.
8. Come to the conclusion that I am EVERYTHING nobody wants.
9. Jack off.
10. Continue the process of killing my self esteem.
11. Jack off (while watching porn).
12. Crawl into bed and cry ‘cause I, along with everybody else in the world, hate me.
13. Dry my tears, and then fire up some porn again, and jack off.
14. Getting tired from cumming so much. Take a quick nap,
15. Wake up feeling rejuvenated, and repeat step 1 to 15.

Today, I got to thinking…

Cum is mostly made out of protein. When you ejaculate, you’re basically losing protein in your body.

Would that make you skinny? Is that how some men lose weight? By cumming 200 times a day?

Let’s look at an equation (what?! I’m engineering major. What do you expect?):

Protein intake – Protein loss = Accumulation of protein in body

Protein intake = protein drinks, energy bars, occasional meat/fish (if I can afford it)
Protein loss = Cums.

I jack off so much that I think my protein loss > protein intake.

Thus my accumulation of protein is < 0.

Which means I’m losing protein.

Is that why I’m so skinny?

Does this also mean that body builders are not allowed to jack off or have sex? Or they have to stop right before they reach their orgasms so that they don't lose any protein?

If so, I really pity them.

Their bodies are ugly as hell to boot. And they can’t even ejaculate to make them feel better?

Man, do I pity them.

It's tits man.

I used to think titis are just titis.

No big deal.

Never understood why straight guys L.O.V.E. them so much.

Until......

I buried my face in a pair of 34Ds.

Don't ask me how it happened.

Of course, alcohols were involved.

I kind of liked it.

Ever since then, I have a new found fascination for big ass titis.

Hopefully I'm not on my way to straightville.

Or worse, bi-town.

Speaking of bisexual, I really don't understand them. How can a person likes tits, ass, pussy and dick at the same time? I think these people are not bisexual. No. They are just sexual. TOO sexual that they'll just hump anything that moves. Including a rocking chair.

I touched a vagina and I have braided nipple hair. Well, not really.

My fingers smell like fish today. Salmon, to be exact. It stinks. Then I got to thinking. I've heard that a woman's genitalia smells like fish if she doesn't clean it. If that's true, would it smell like my fingers? I asked Drunken Friend once, and he said his girlfriend's smell like rose. Rose my ass. I mean, it doesn't, does it? I've never seen or touched or sniffed one, so I don't know. I wonder if I will ever see or touch or sniff one in my life. I wonder what it would be like. Hmm... I do know what to do with it though. You jam 2 fingers in and rub the clit with another thumb, right? I learned that from watching porn.

Speaking of thumb, my thumb is actually kinda sore.

*Gasp*

Sore thumb + fishy fingers = I. Touched. A. Vagina.

Wait a minute. That can't be right. I was doing *ahem* something else. Let's do the math one more time.

Sore thumb + fishy fingers = I grilled salmon. I didn't wash my hand properly. I'm nasty. YUCK!!

Maybe that's why I'm single.

I have a new pet peeve. I'm starting to hate people who write "am trying to kiss my own ass." instead of "I'm trying to kiss my own ass." or "I am trying to kiss my own ass." How hard is it to hold down Shift and hit the letter I on the keyboard, release, and hit the space bar once. Or to hold down Shift and hit the letter I, release, hit the apostrophe key, and then hit the letter M. Tell me, how FUCKING hard is that? Huh? Huh?! Am pissing myself off with this stupid nonsense. Am going to slap myself if I start a sentence like that again. Am slapping myself right now. Am sore from slapping myself. Am going to kill myself if I see that again. Am dead.

Goddamn it!

Do you know that dogs have spring breaks? Do you also know that dogs go to the beach on spring breaks? Do you also know that dogs have threesome? Do you also know that dogs have threesome on a beach on spring breaks? Do you also know that I have three nipples? Do you also know that I have three nipple hairs on each three nipples? Do you also know that I shampoo and condition my three nipple hairs? Do you also know that all nine hairs are three feet long? Do you also know that they are braided? Do you also know that my mother did that for me? I'll stop here. Before it gets out of control.

Anyway, dogs having threesome on a beach during spring break is true. See for yourself.

Do you also know that it's nearly impossible to pee in the pool while you're swimming?

Wait.

*Commotion ensues*

What? Huh?! Hmm!?

What's going on here? Who said that? You pee in the pool!?

WHAT? Huh!?

I don't pee in the pool. I DON'T!

Who pees in the pool then? Hmph!

*Commotion slowly subsides*

I think I should get out of here before anybody finds out the truth.

Home is sweet. Locker room is not.

Home sweet home.

Home FUCKING SWEEEEEEEEEEET home!!!!

Ahh... I love my little 'home'. I miss everything about it. I miss the street, the house, the staircase leading up to the house, the mailbox, the trash cans, the huge tree, my room, my pillows (all 5 of them), my bed, my computer, my sweet yet annoying roommate, the cool breeze, the shower head, the bath tub, etc etc... The list goes on and on.

I don't know if I've been gone from this hippie town for too long, or that people have gotten progressively weirder by the minutes, but today at the gym, in the locker room, at the shower stalls, some guy in a speedo was standing under the shower.... brushing his teeth. That was weird. But I shook it off. I then proceed to take a quick shower, and as I was toweling off, the teeth brushing guy was still there. Only thing is, he wasn't brushing his teeth anymore. Instead, he was flossing. He was fucking flossing in the middle of the shower! Maybe during the 3 days that I was gone, these have became the IN thing to do. In the shower. A public shower. I didn't stay any longer because I don't think I can handle it if he pulls out a detergent and started doing his laundry right there in the shower.

Speaking of locker room. I saw something today that would shatter the age old myth. The myth that all black guys have HUGE dicks. That, my friend, is bullshit. I saw a black dick so small, it's shorter than the pubic hair around it. At first glance, you can't even see anything but the bush. I literally had to search for it in the black forest. Not that I stared at this gentleman's crotch for an extended period of time looking for his weenie, you know. It's just that given my experience and expertise, I have a pretty good idea what those sausages look like. All I need is a half second glance, and then I was like "There you are! You sneaky little bastard! You can run but you can't hide!" But... maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps when that gentleman gets excited, his tiny sausage will turn into a giant bratwurst.

Speaking of shower, I saw something else at the shower stalls today. A man old enough to be grandpa was checking out a 20+ year old guy showering next to him. Mr. Grandpa, that is just WRONG. Please don't do that again. You just showed me what Michael Jackson is like in 30 years. Except you have a much much much better looking nose.

It may sound like I spent the entire day at the locker room, but I didn't. All this happened during the 10 minutes I was actually there. I swear.

I'm so totally going to be a great dad in the future.

Today, I

- had to pee so bad my bladder is going to explode it’s not even funny. I was literally dripping.
- realized that I have “no killer instinct”, hence making me a man-bitch.
- had a serene moment.

So my friend’s girlfriend’s friend’s boyfriend bought a new boat, and I got to go on a boat trip. Actually I do kinda know the boat owner, so it’s not like I’m just hitching a free ride, you know. Although that was pretty much what I did. Towards the end, while we’re waiting to dock, I had to pee… really really had to pee. But the thing is, there were at least 8 boats ahead of us. Shit. I don’t want to take care of the business in the lake because I was dry, and I wanted to stay dry. When it was FINALLY our turn to dock, my bladder is SO full, I swear I can actually taste pee in my mouth.

After peeing for at least 2 minutes 16 seconds (I passed out at that point due to dehydration from eliminating too much water from my body), I thought I could make myself useful by helping. Help who? Help where? Help how? I don’t know. So I ended up just walking up and down the dock, yelling something whenever appropriate (whenever someone else was yelling). I told this friend that I feel useless, he told me I have “no killer instinct”, he is probably right. I have never killed anybody. I shall start soon.

On the drive back from the lake, drunken friend and his drunken girlfriend (everybody was either tired or drunk at the end of the day. I unfortunately was not drunk. Hence the driving) was falling asleep in the backseat. The stereo wasn’t on because it got stolen 2 years ago. It was quiet. Peaceful. At that moment, I felt like I was a mother, on the way home after picking up my two kids at their weekend camp or whatever. Feeling tired, yet contented. Tired because I’ve been having sex the whole weekend while the kids are gone, contented because I have 2 lovely kids snoring in the backseat.

Then one of their cell phones went off.

I turned into the designated driver once again, and my lovely kids turned back into a couple of drunken alcoholics.

I'm not crazy. I swear.

Q: How often should you wash your bed sheets?

A) Once a day.
B) Once a week.
C) Once a month.
D) When you couldn’t remember when was the last time you wash them because that was centuries ago.

Answer: D
It was so sunny outside that it inspired me to do laundry. Not just any ordinary laundry, but THE laundry laundry. I’ve always find it very sensual to do bed sheets laundry with the guy who occasionally sleeps in your bed. You have to crawl all over the bed to get to the corner to peel the bed sheets off, and you can spank his butt to get him out of the way if he’s blocking you. Of course that would usually lead to some naughty foreplay involving wrestling. Then of course the clothes will come off one by one…. Then when we’re done taking care of “business”, we can rest for a little bit, and then go back to peeling the bed sheets off, and spanking and wrestling....... But when you’re just by yourself, what’s the fun in spanking your own butt?!


Q: What would you find in your bed if you wash the sheets as often as I do?

A) Curly pubic hair.
B) Straight head hair.
C) Cum stains.
D) Drool stains.
E) Boogers. Lots and lots of them.

Answer: All of the above.
I can’t believe my bed is so fucking NASTY!! It’s probably my fault that it’s so nasty, but still! The longest I’ve gone without showering is only 3 days, I couldn’t be that nasty, could I? I do remember sometimes, I dig my nose in my dreams. Now I wonder if it’s really my dreams. I drool a fucking lot. Sometimes up to a gallon a night. I drool so much my pillow itself has drool stains on them. God I am nasty!


Q: Speaking of bed, how many pillows do you have?

A) 1
B) 2
C) 3
D) 4
E) 5

Answer: E
Yes, I have 5 pillows. Yes, it is a lot. Yes, I’m a guy. Yes, I’m a gay guy. No, I can’t get rid of any of them. All of them have their own unique function. Let me explain.
- The Tommy Hilfiger extra-firm-support pillow: This is for my clean head to sleep on at night. What’s a clean head? A clean head is a head that just got out of the shower, with nice smelling hair and minty breaths.
- The Laura Ashley ultimate-support pillow: This is for my dirty head to sleep on anytime of the day. What’s a dirty head? A dirty head is a head that has not gotten into the shower for the past 3 hours, with hair wax and garlic breaths.
- The No Brand extra-firm pillow from Target: This is for me to spoon when I sleep. Some people can’t sleep without their stuff animals, some can’t sleep without holding onto a penis, I can’t sleep without spooning something. Hence this spooning pillow.
- The Tag-Fell-Off fluffy pillow: This is the movie pillow. If somebody disturbs me while I’m watching a movie, I’ll hit them with this pillow, and then choke them to death with it when they’re down. Sometimes I hide behind this pillow if the movie is too scary. Sometimes I use this pillow to dry my eyes if the movie is sad.
- The ULTIMATE pillow: This is THE ultimate pillow. The mother of all pillows. It can be used in any of the above mentioned position, and it always works better than the above mentioned pillows. This is the reward pillow. The pillow I use only when I’ve earned the right to use it. Nobody touches this pillow but me.


Q: Do you think I’m weird?

A) Yes.
B) Extemely.
C) I think you’re crazy.
D) Did you just escaped from mental institution?

Answe OH SHIT! They just found out I’m here! They’re going to throw me back into my padded cell! Shit! One of them is carrying a needle. They’re going to sedate me!

“My warriors, are you READY FOR BATTLE?!!”

The Tommy Hilfiger extra-firm-support pillow: YEAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
The Laura Ashley ultimate-support pillow: BRING THEM ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The No Brand extra-firm pillow from Target: LET’S FIGHT FOR OUR FREEDOM!!!!!
The Tag-Fell-Off fluffy pillow: LET’S GOOO!!!!!!!!
The ULTIMATE pillow: But I just got my nails done.

“OK, The ULTIMATE pillow, you stay here. EVERYONE ELSE, LET’S HAVE A PILLOW FIGHT!!!!”

Introducing homophobic closet case jackass...

Getting drunk wasn't fun last night.

It wasn't fun at all, except the slightly drunk part. Maybe it would've been better if I was totally shitfaced.

Yesterday was a weird day. I remember coming home totally psyched because I'm DONE! SUCKASS BITCHES!! But then something happened... and the next thing I know, my roommate was unusually jerk-y (is that a word?). I mean, he turned into the biggest son of a bitch in the entire galaxy in the span of a few seconds, that asshole. Later when he found out that I was pissed, he apologized and unnecessarily justified his action by saying, and I quote "you're an easy target." How the hell am I an easy target while I'm just standing there not doing anything is totally beyond me. Maybe if I were running around then I wouldn't be such an easy target because I'm running around? Maybe he thinks I'm a bulls eye or something. Hmm... I do like wearing red a lot. Perhaps I'm the stupid idiot with a red table cloth and he's a bull. A hairy bull. With lots of tattoos. Including one on his dick. Not that I've seen one, you know. I'm just assuming.

So then I discovered that being a bulls eye totally killed any kind of drinking mood that I was in, so I decided to just stay home, and helped him clean out the house for his graduation party he's throwing. So, to sum it up, he was being an ass, and I get back at him by helping him clean the house. Hmm... I wonder if it's my stupidity that makes me an easy target.

Later that night, I got my ass dragged to the local watering hole, thanks to a drunken buddy who started drinking at 11am, whom I should've joined but instead I stayed home and CLEAN... Martha Stewart would've been proud of me. God I'm such a loser. Does anybody has a permanent marker? I need to write something on my forehead.

Fast forward to me in a bar with said drunken friend (DF), drunken friend's girlfriend (DFG), a few other friends, and a jack ass (JA) whom I've just met. It's my 3rd cocktail, and I'm a little tipsy. Do you have any idea how easily can 1 Long Island fuck you up? I didn't know that shit was so potent. I mean, cool people in movies order Long Island left and right like it's an ice tea when they're at a bar, so I thought it won't be so bad. I have no idea what uncool people in movies drink when they're at a bar because... well, they're uncool, and I'm cool. Yeah, I'm so cool I make Martha Stewart proud.

Let me tell you something about JA. When I first met him, he was asking DFG if her handbag is Coach or Gucci. *My broken gaydar is picking up a signal. Maybe I'll get lucky tonight.* DFG said it's either Coach or Cucci because the letter C is everywhere on the purse. JA then proceed to tell EVERYBODY that if they go to a Coach store, they have this huge ass Coach duffle bag with a bunch of Cs on them that sell for 800 bucks. *Gaydar signal getting stronger...* Now, I'm a gay dude, and I've seen DFG's handbag a million times, and I always thought it was some cheap ass handbag she paid $5 for at a flea market. My point is, I know abso-fucking-lutely nothing about handbags. Maybe I'm not in touch with my feminine gay side. Maybe I should start by wearing a pantyhose and pee sitting down.

Later, DFG told me that JA is not gay. Let me repeat that. She told me he is NOT GAY. Yes, you read that right. A straight guy just asked a girl what brand her handbag is. Yes, he shops at Coach stores. Yes, he's in the closet. DFG said JA knows these stuff so well because his girlfriend has them. Yes, he's a closet case whose trying to turn himself straight by fucking girls with Coach handbags.

Later later, with my 3rd Long Beach in hand, I was getting tipsy, and started acting like an idiot. DF and DFG were talking to closet case JA when I interrupted their conversation and started touching DFG rather inappropriately. Closet case JA noticed and told DF. DF then proceed to explain the situation by outing me to closet case JA. It is at this point that I kinda lost my balance a little and had to grab onto closet case JA to balance myself, and he immediately freaked out and demand that I don't touch him EVER AGAIN. It is also at this point that I realized that closet case JA is not only a closet case, but a homophobe too! A homophobic closet case who hates gay guys because being around gay guys hits too close to home.

So that's what homophobic closet case jack ass looks like.

Blog and pregnancy cravings.

Having a blog changes everything.

OK, that was a tad too dramatic, and it didn't sound as good as it did in my head. I wanted to go for the Johnson & Johnson's "having a baby changes everything" commercial's effect. But evidently I failed. Horribly. I know. I watch too much TV. As a matter of fact, Gilmore Girls' season finale is on right now, and apparently somebody is popping the big question. Yes, I love Gilmore Girls. Probably more than I will ever love... ham and cheese omelet. Actually that might not be true.

See, on an ordinary lazy day a few weeks ago, I had a sudden craving for H&CO in the middle of the day. It was so sudden and so strong and so peculiar that I didn't know what to do with it. I was... you know how sometimes something so big hit you so sudden you have no idea what to do or what to say? So then I realized: OH MY GOD! I'm PREGNANT! Yes, I'm pregnant, and those are pregnancy cravings! But then I realized I haven't had sex in a long time, so if I'm pregnant, then I would've been the person who impregnated myself. Then I realized, I'm a hermaphrodite! Holy shit! A freaking hermaphrodite! But then I realized again, if I'm a hermaphrodite, then my vagina must have not been developed because well, I don't see it when I look down. So in the end, I made the conclusion that I'm a pregnant hermaphrodite whose complete sexual organs have not yet fully developed whose having a pregnancy craving for H&CO.

That was a few weeks ago. I have since had H&CO, and my stomach did not get any bigger, and my vagina did not show up.

I have long since forgotten my point. What was I saying earlier? Oh yeah, having a blog. If you haven't noticed, I tend to go on a tangent a lot. My tangent is usually longer, much longer than anybody else's.

So, having a blog doesn't necessary changes everything.

But it does change something.

At least to me. Everytime something happened, my first thought would be thinking of whether if I would be able to write it out and post it in here. But then I got to thinking, why am I doing that? I guess what Oprah said was right. "Everyone in the world wants to be validated." Regardless by who, or how insignificant that person is to us. Everyday we have to put on this facade to face the world in order to protect ourselves, to prevent us from getting hurt. At night, if we're lucky, we can take the facade off. And if we're luckier, we can let the other person see the real us. And if we're even luckier, we'll be able to get to see the real person behind that other facade.

Wow. That was deep. I have absolutely no idea where that came from. For all I know, I'm getting tired. I need to cut my finger nails. Not that I cut my finger nails everytime I get tired. It's just a coincidence. I swear. No, I'm not a weirdo. I might think that I'm a hermaphrodite, but I'm definitely not a weirdo. Weirdos don't think they are hermaphrodite when they think they are pregnant. Instead, they check themselves into maternity ward waiting to give birth to an anvil.

By the way, the Gilmore Girls season finale was excellent. They totally kick ass.