The Exposed Diary of an Extinct Snakehead

Two thousand seven.

2007-12-11T20:41:00.000-08:00

Interviewed with a company for a small molecule position that I absolutely loved. Thought I did very well in the interview. Got really good feedback. But I didn't get the job.

I cried and drank and dialed and cried some more.

Many month later, I found out that the company was having troubles, and they were on a company wide hiring freeze.

Sometimes, it really isn't about you. Most of the time, it has nothing to do with you at all.

==========================================================================

Stumbled upon The Law of Attraction. Introduced it to my aunt. It completely changed her life. To the point where I'm afraid she has overdone it.

As for me? It works.

You are what you attract.

==========================================================================

A painful drama.

She (6:38:39 PM): i 'm sorry i stopped talking to you

She (6:38:42 PM): i want to tell you why

She (6:38:46 PM): that night you got drunk

She (6:38:50 PM): you said something that offended me

She (6:38:57 PM): and i just didn't want to deal with it

She (6:39:04 PM): soi acted childish

Me (6:39:16 PM): oh

Me (6:39:20 PM): what did i say?

Me (6:39:22 PM): and when?

She (6:39:28 PM): i don't want to get into it

She (6:39:39 PM): but it was similar to something that victor said to me before..

She (6:39:59 PM): just a general disbelief and lack of faith in me and questioning why i got a job offer and you didn't type of thing

Me (6:40:43 PM): whatever it is, i'm very sorry

Me (6:41:24 PM): why bring it up now?

She (6:41:37 PM): i meant to do it sooner

She (6:41:39 PM): just never did

She (6:41:45 PM): kind of just got too busy

She (6:42:50 PM): i realized it's not worth the anger and youguys were probably just frustrated

She (6:42:51 PM): whatever

Me (6:44:16 PM): and so now you want to start talking again....?

She (6:45:12 PM): i'm just not angry ove rmore

Me (6:47:36 PM): if you brought this up A LOT sooner i can do something about it, now i dunno what to tell ya

Me (6:48:40 PM): saying sorry so late isn't gonna cut it so i dunno why you bring this up now

Me (6:49:52 PM): you want me to feel bad or something?

Me (6:50:16 PM): want me to know what i'm the one who screwed up our friendship?

Me (6:53:08 PM): next time you wanna say something, say it right then or don't say it. period

She (6:53:00 PM): i thought you'd be curious

Me (6:53:15 PM): i was

Me (6:53:26 PM): got over it

She (6:53:33 PM): i wasn't being passive aggressive

She (6:53:45 PM): i jsut figured if someone could think that about me, they weren't worth my time or friendship

Me (6:53:57 PM): you want me to tell you how upset i was when i realized that our friendship is over?

She (6:54:03 PM): maybe you should watch what you say next time

Me (6:54:18 PM): i

Me (6:54:19 PM): was

She (6:54:12 PM): you want to know how upset i was when i found out you had no faith in me

Me (6:54:20 PM): drunk

She (6:54:15 PM): yeah

She (6:54:20 PM): it doens't mean you can't be honest when you're drunk

She (6:54:27 PM): probably more so, becaus eyou have no inhibitions

She (6:54:32 PM): so i figured it was your sincere thoughts

She (6:54:45 PM): i'm done

Me (6:55:44 PM): if you're so upset then why didn't you tell me?

Me (6:58:01 PM): can't believe you just said i wasn't worth your time or your friendship

Me (6:58:44 PM): fyi, if you want me to feel what you felt, you have succeeded

Me (6:58:47 PM): with flying colors

Me (6:58:50 PM): so congrats

Life is like a tapestry.

==========================================================================

Through all the ups and downs, I realized one very important thing.

I am very blessed.

I have friends and families whom I love, and love me in return. They fulfill my every needs, physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. They also help me grow, personally and professionally.

Think about these people when you're bitching about life. You'll realize how great and how easy you have it.

==========================================================================

This has been a tough year. There were a lot of tears shed, a lot of shriveled hopes, a lot of broken dreams, and a lot of waking up.

But at the end of the day, when everything is said and done,

I am first and foremost thankful.

Thankful for what I have.

Thankful for what I am.

And my heart is warm and full right now.

What makes me happy?

2007-12-06T12:00:00.000-08:00

In times when I feel stagnant and unhappy, I like to give thanks.

I am thankful for being a diamond in the rough.

I am thankful for the love I am receiving.

I am thankful for being me.

I am thankful for the ability to laugh and make fun of myself.

I am thankful for "You are only as happy as you let your mind to be."

I am thankful for "You can't rely on somebody else to complete you. It comes from your inner being."

I am thankful for the past for making me into what I am.

I can't help but chuckle a bit.

This is amazing. Such a simple exercise, yet so powerful.

And I maintain,

Life really is beautiful.

Ungrateful bitch.

2007-12-05T12:03:00.000-08:00

Today I join the ranks of millions of Americans and billions of people worldwide.

I hate my job.

I feel so invisible and disposable. Like there’s no future.

Yeah, it’s the unknown that makes me unhappy.

On the other hand, I have a job. It pays the bills. I am learning A LOT. I am meeting new people. I am polishing myself.

Why am I such a son-of-a-bitch and ask for so much sometime?

God!

A moment of clarity.

2007-12-04T13:34:00.000-08:00

It's not always about you.

Most of the time, it has nothing to do with you at all.

Remember that.

Wow...

2007-12-03T22:29:00.000-08:00

It's been more than a year.

Wow.

It feels weird to be writing again.

Somehow, knowing that nobody will read this but myself, even though it's published for the whole world to see, that seems to project a sense of comfort. That's nice. I like that.

Snakehead.

Heh.

What a name.

Feels kinda stuck at the moment, doesn't it?

It'll get better. It always does.

Trust me.

I trust you.

Good night. Have a sweet dream little boy.

Hiatus

2006-10-16T22:59:00.000-07:00

I'm in a pretty good place right now.

I'm gonna enjoy it while it last.

This is not a good bye.

It's a see you later.

Some exercise in the afternoon...

2006-08-29T15:21:00.000-07:00

Me (1:10:12 PM): hey

Him (1:10:20 PM): hi Snakehead

Me (1:10:28 PM): it's good seeing you yesterday

Me (1:10:32 PM): been a long time

Him (1:10:50 PM): You saw me at my best ...

Me (1:11:32 PM): ha

Me (1:11:37 PM): getting cocky aren't we?

Him (1:11:53 PM): to you

Me (1:27:25 PM): so what you up to?

Him (1:27:41 PM): Right at the moment, I'm preparing a syllabus

Me (1:28:13 PM): i thougth you're jerking off

Me (1:28:15 PM): hahaha

Me (1:28:17 PM): just kidding

Him (1:28:27 PM): I did that this morning -- twice, actually.

Me (1:28:41 PM): wow

Me (1:28:43 PM): twice

Me (1:28:47 PM): very impressive

Him (1:28:52 PM): yeah, I've been horny.

Me (1:28:57 PM): heh

Me (1:28:58 PM): me too

Him (1:31:20 PM): oooh ... that's hot

Me (1:32:14 PM): so i'm getting you all hot and bothered?

Him (1:33:53 PM): in a good way

Me (1:34:21 PM): i'm sure. coz i'm good at it

Me (1:37:51 PM): are you wacking off now?

Him (1:59:05 PM): tell you in a bit; there are several people here in my office right now!

Him went idle at 2:10:13 PM.

Him returned at 2:12:47 PM.

Him (2:14:00 PM): whew -- everybody is gone now and the door is closed

Me (2:21:46 PM): haha

Me (2:21:55 PM): busy day

Him (2:40:05 PM): My sexual frustration makes it hard to get other things done.

Me (2:40:34 PM): well then you've come to the right place

Me (2:40:44 PM): i'm good at taking care of sexual frustration

Him (2:43:24 PM): yikes!

Me (2:46:01 PM): but i'm not a slut

Him (2:47:00 PM): you drive me wild!

Me (2:47:48 PM): really?

Me (2:47:52 PM): how wild?

Him (2:49:07 PM): Well, I was just thinking about your cute butt and the whole syllabus thing is falling apart.

Me (2:49:55 PM): if you come over now you can see it up close. you can even touch it!

Him (2:51:45 PM): really?

Me (2:52:15 PM): really

Him (2:53:36 PM): where are you?

Me (2:53:48 PM): at home. alone

Him (2:53:59 PM): but where's "home"?

Me (2:54:14 PM): this street and that street

Me (2:55:01 PM): close to that store

Him (2:55:55 PM): I wouldn't mind stopping by for a little visit ...

Him (2:56:01 PM): I'm at school right now -- not that far

Me (2:56:23 PM): i wouldn't mind some company...

Him (2:59:04 PM): what's your exact address?

Me (2:59:23 PM): 1234 this street

Him (2:59:55 PM): I'll be there in a bit.

Me (3:00:10 PM): how long?

Him (3:00:34 PM): not long

Him (3:00:54 PM): I walk fast.

Me (3:01:22 PM): k

Him signed off at 3:05:33 PM.

Nip/Talk

2006-08-25T09:13:00.000-07:00

I don't like the way my nipples look anymore. They used to be round and perky. Now they're flat and elongated sideway. I need a nipple clamp or something.

Delusion.

2006-08-14T17:52:00.000-07:00

It’s 5.40 in the afternoon. He’s been at work since 7.30 in the morning. He’s tired, hoping to catch a short nap on the uncomfortable bus seat. He rests his head on the window and closes his eyes.

Suddenly, the bus jerks and stops. He opened his eyes, and catches a glimpse of a man boarding the bus upfront. This man takes his breath away.

He has high cheek bones, the ones that everyone is dying for. His complexion is so flawless he could star in a cosmetic commercial without any makeup. His Mohawk style, blonde tip brown base hair is perfectly styled with a too much product. Not a single strand of hair is out of place. He smells of hair product and deodorant. His eye brows, although appears natural, shapes like two perfect caterpillars sitting above his mesmerizing eyes. His sexy lips look extremely inviting. His loose fit tee does not hide his workout, nicely toned body.

This man is so good looking, it would be a complete waste if he is straight.

This man move further into the bus, and settles down two feet away from him. He admires him. This man is without question, completely out of his league.

Suddenly, he got very angry. He’s very angry at this man. As the clock ticks he became more and more furious at this man. There is no why. Just is. He’s angry at this man and everything that he represent.

Where did this anger came from?

He admits that part of it is due to jealousy. But that’s just a small part of it.

All his life, he’s been trying to be unconventional. Because he’s not the best or the most or the number 1 in anything he does, he’s been trying to do things differently. To be unconventional. He’s straight acting. He doesn’t like to hang out with too many gay guys. He doesn’t like being around flaming homosexuals. Unconventional. Do things differently. He doesn’t use tons of facial product, like the conventional gay guys who care too much about their look. He doesn’t have the short Mohawk hair style that is so typical among the gay guys. He doesn’t look gay at all.

And then this man came on the bus and shattered all that.

He’s angry at himself for finding this man extremely attractive. This man, who stands for everything he doesn’t believe in. This man, who is so stereotypically gay, his picture should be posted next to the word ‘gay’ in dictionaries.

This man, whose breathtaking beauty has shown him one thing.

He shows him that after so many years, he is still insecure about himself.

Evidently he’s been deluding himself all this time.

I just realize...

2006-06-19T06:12:00.000-07:00

that meetings are just a bunch of people getting together trying to stay awake with gallons and gallons of coffee.

I wonder.

2006-06-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

The other day while I was walking down the street, a homeless guy ran past me trying to catch the bus. He was lugging quite a number of paper bags, filled with whatever items that a homeless guy thinks he needs. Right when he ran past me yelling at the bus, one of his paper bags broke, and his stuff was all over the sidewalk.

Early this morning, I was on a bus on my way to work. The driver stopped at a bus stop like she always does. Usually a train would've arrived a few minutes earlier, and my co-worker would get off that train and board the same bus. However, the train was late this morning. And the bus driver pulled out just as my co-worker was at the intersection waiting to cross the road. She was waving and yelling but the driver ignored her and get on her way.

I was walking right next to the homeless guy when his bag broke.

I was sitting in the bus when the driver ignored my co-worker.

Instead of stopping and offering that poor guy a hand with his stuff, I kept walking.

Instead of asking the bus driver to wait for another 20 seconds for my co-worker, I sat there and do nothing.

Further down the street, I wanted to turn around and see how he was doing; see if he got all his stuff back; see if anybody stopped and helped.

Further down the road, I wanted to turn around and see what would be a frustrated look on my coworker's face.

But I didn't.

But I didn't.

A few days ago another homeless guy sitting outside the drugstore asked if I can spare some change when I come out. At the checkout line, I pulled out my wallet. Usually I would've paid with the credit card but I thought of something and paid with cash instead. I got almost a dollar worth of change back. On my way out I happily deposited that money into the homeless guy's cup. In return I got a smile, a "thank you", a "you have a good day now" and a "enjoy the beautiful weather".

Almost 2 years ago I saw this heartbreaking story on the news. A bunch of disabled students were having a car wash to raise money to pay for a visit to the local university. At the end of the day they made about 300 dollars, and this money is kept in the teacher's office. That night, a thief broke into her office and stole the money. The students' spirits were not broken by this unfortunate incident, and they decided they're going to keep raising money. I called the TV station and got the appropriate information, and sent them a 40 dollars donation. The next day, a reporter from the TV station called and said they've gotten overwhelming response on the story and they've decided to do a follow-up on that. She asked if I wanted to be interviewed because apparently I was the only college student who called and made a donation. I said yes. Not long afterwards I got a handwritten card from the students thanking me for my generosity.

I couldn't help but wonder: am I turning into one of those people whose idea of goodness and kindness are automatically linked to giving money instead of stopping and help a homeless guy pick up his stuff or ask a bus driver to wait for his co-worker?

Heh.

2006-05-30T14:08:00.000-07:00

Life.

Ah, life.

It has a way of happening not the way you want it to.

"Man plans, God laughs."

Thursday I'm flying to Chicago where I'm going to work as intern for 3 months.

Last week I got into a minor car accident and I now need to shell out $1500.

I might be a United States permanent residence next year.

The cost for immigration attorney to take care of the ridiculous paperwork is $200 per hour.

I read 10 books in the past month (A long way down, I am not myself these days, The Da Vinci Code, A dirty job, The stupidest angel, The confessions of Max Tivoli, The curious incident of the dog in the night-time, The year of ice, 50 reasons to say goodbye, The Martian Child)

I got 2 A, 1 A- and 1 B+ this semester. Thus pushing my overall GPA to 3.4 (which is excellent for my major at my school).

My aunt (whom I love dearly) told me she's not having sex with her husband in an email she sent me, right after she told me that somebody tried to torch her car. I am still nauseous to this day.

My mom and my other aunt came for my graduation ceremony. I still have one more semester to go. While she was here, my mom successfully gave me migraine.

Yosemite is beautiful.

I am currently $1100 in debt.

I'm hate packing.

A conversation with my roommate last night:

"You know, I was really upset when you told me that you're moving."

"Really?"

"Yeah, especially after the day you told me that you're gonna stay."

"Then why didn't you let on?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you show that you were upset?"

"Because I know you wouldn't change your mind for me. I mean, would you have stayed if I asked you to?"

"No."

"There. See? I didn't let on because when I first found out, and I was laying guilt trip on you, remember? I was kinda babbling and all."

"Yeah."

"And you said I was making you feel so bad. So then I stopped. I knew that you already felt bad. And I also know that you wouldn't stay even if I asked you to. So there's really no point of showing you how upset I was. I'm ok now though."

"Thank you. Really. That means a lot to me."

Life has a way of happening not the way you want it to. But as long as the Priory of Sion doesn't tell the world that the Holy Grail is actually the sarcophagus of Mary Magdalene buried underneath The Louvre, we should be fine.

Yeah.

We should be fine.

You live and you learn. Easier said than done.

2006-04-13T14:59:00.000-07:00

I interviewed with a biotech company that I really want to work for on 3 different occasions for a summer internship with 3 different hiring managers.

I got nothing.

I politely asked why.

2 of them ignored my email, one of them was nice enough to call, but did not answer my question. You can read about it in my last post.

Yesterday a friend of mine told me that out of the blue, a hiring manager at the same biotech company called and asked if she wanted a summer internship. She said yes, he said you got it.

Just like that.

She got a job just like that.

Life sucks. Life is unfair. I know that. I've said that. But to actually experience how much it sucks.... I can't tell you it doesn't hurt.

People say that on average a person usually go through 3 or 4 interviews before they got an offer. I've been through 8 interview. All of the interviewers said that I was great, that they were really impressed by me etc etc. So technically I should have 2 offers.

I have none.

I'm starting to think that I was lied to.

People say that usually if you're the first one being interviewed, chances are you're not gonna get hired. Something about managers usually don't think they should hire the first person they talk to or something like that.

I have 4 hiring managers told me that I was the first person they interviewed.

Life is unfair. Deal with it.

Easier said than done.

I received an offer letter from a small oil company located right outside of Chicago, IL. The pay is lower than most, and they don't provide housing or transportation. Not even the air fare. After taxes, plane tickets, accomodations, transportation and daily expenses, I will most probably ended up with about $1000 in my pocket.

Originally I was hoping to make enough money this summer to go to the orthodontist. Since my insurance doesn't cover beautification works, I need to pay for it myself. On average it costs about $5000 to $6000.

I can't afford it.

Life sucks. Deal with it.

Easier said than done.

Much easier said than done.

And somehow, along the way, I managed to find an inner peace.

It's strange how when you start seeing things from another perspective.

Peace.

With a bottle of Corona Light on a beach with no cell phone signal, although I don't drink beer.

Peace is a good thing.

Sometimes, peace is all that's needed.

It's never ending.

2006-04-07T13:17:00.000-07:00

I had a presentation yesterday, and it didn't go well. In fact, it's the worst presentation ever in the history of presenting. The professor had something to pick and criticize on every single slide. And it's not what he said, but the way he said it that makes it that much worse. He basically thinks that we are so fucking retarded that we can't even get the easiest thing right without saying it. And because the cheap machine that we used to run the experiment didn't perform really well, which resulted in funky and inaccurate data, he now thinks that we were lying to him in our presentation because "he's never seen any data like ours in 25 years."

At the end, he wouldn't even let me finish the presentation, saying that he needs to discuss our many problems with another professor. I got so mad afterwards that I had tears in my eyes.

Then later, I got another rejection from an employer. She called to tell me that. She said that they were all really impressed with my interview, and so she is forwarding my resume around to other hiring managers. She didn't tell me why I didn't get the job. So I asked, "is there any particular reasons why I'm not the most suitable candidate for this job?" She said "Well we were all very impressed with your interview. So what I'm doing is I'm forwarding your resume to other hiring managers in other departments and tell them that you've already been interviewed, your background check is clear and that you're definitely a desired candidate to work here."

That's the answer she gave me when I asked her why I didn't get the job.

She wouldn't even tell me.

Am I that worthless?

Can anybody please tell me where is the humor in my life lately? I'm desperately needing some right now, before I consider killing myself.

I think I'm back for the moment.

2006-04-05T11:39:00.000-07:00

Life sucks right now.

Looking back at my posting last few postings, I am shocked that I'm still not on Zoloft.

What the hell happened to me?

A few weeks ago I had this constant headache and I've never experienced anything like it before. I thought I had cancer or brain aneurysm or something. But as I was picturing myself dying and all, the feeling was oddly peaceful, like I was ready to go, like there's nothing here to keep me. I know, I'm a selfish mother fucker.

So I went to the doctor, and he did all this tests, including massaging my scalp and neck and shoulder. No, he's not gay, although I thought he was gay at first, but then he said something about his wife. So no he's not gay. At the end of the examination he concluded that my headache was mostly likely due to stress. I told him that I wasn't under any stress. He told me that many people don't feel stressed out when they're in fact, stressed out. And having a headache is a way your body is telling you that something's not right and you gotta change something.

Well then, apparently I'm not dying.

So last week was spring break, and I spend the entire week visiting DC, Philly and NY. And I guess the doctor was right, because after the trip, my headache was gone. Apparently I was extremely stressed out.

Was I stressed out?

I don't think so.

But the fact is, I am.

Spiritually and mentally, I am slowly evolving. I'm turning 23 next month, and I guess my biological clock is ticking. I want to settle down. I want a relationship. But you know what the say about love and relationship? Love is like a butterfly, you can't catch it, you gotta let it come to you. Which is such a bitch! Admittedly I am not the best looking guy. In fact, I don't think I'm very cute at all. I don't have all the pre-requisites to survive in this harsh gay world. I mean, c'mon, let's admit it. Sex is easy. Anything more than that? Don't even think about it. I'm not cute, I have pimpley face and crooked teeth, I am skinny like a stick and I don't have the "required" body shape. What's worse, I have backacne. So to sum it up, I look like shit. Literally. Inner beauty? Who the fuck cares about that when you look like somebody hit you with a shovel when you're a kid?

As you can imagine, looking like shit is slowly but surely doing "great" things to my self esteem. It's currently at an all time low, just like Bush's approval rating. I don't like myself when I look in the mirror. When I was in NY, I went to a gay bar in Chelsea. Long story short, nobody wanted to dance with me, a guy told me very nicely that he's not interested at all, there's a male hooker at the bar and even he's not interested in me. To top things off, the girl that I went with gave her phone number to the only straight guy there. We were in a fucking gay bar and she got hit on, asked to dance while I got absolutely nothing at all.

That night ended with me wailing in her arms on a footstep somewhere in Chelsea. She has no idea why I cried.

Not too long ago I posted an ad on craigslist. I got 2 great responses, and I felt partially connected to them just by reading their emails. So I penned 2 equally great replies and we exchanged pictures and I never hear from them again.

Man, I really am ugly, aren't I?

I am not a lucky person. I have never been lucky my entire life. I am extremely pessimistic. I always turn good things into bad things so that when the good things evetually turn into shitty things, I won't feel too bad about it. That's my philosophy. In NY I waited in line trying to get lottery tickets to Wicked for 3 times, and I guess you can tell if I have won any.

I'm graduating at the end of the year. So I'm actively looking for internships for this summer. Predictably, I am getting as many rejections as interviews. I am starting to doubt my academic abilities. The reasons that I've gotten so far was that my grades were not good enough, I don't have enough experiences, I don't have strong enough background in biology, I can't work here permanently because I'm an international student etc etc.

In hindsight, I guess I was extremely stressed out. And the worse part is, there is no quick solutions to any of my problems. Well, I do have one solution that's giving me hope. I'm planning that when I start making money, I'm gonna have a plastic surgeon fix my teeth. And I'm also gonna spend a ton of money on personal trainers and diet supplement and dermatologists.

Don't judge me.

I have extremely low self esteem.

Valentine's day

2006-02-13T22:44:00.000-08:00

"Hello?"

"Hey Snakehead."

"Hey Laura what's up?"

"......."

"Hello?"

"Oh I thought you said 'one second'."

"Oh no I didn't. So what's up, Laura?"

"Nothing. I was just returning your call. Do you need help with homework?"

"I did, but I don't anymore. I gave up."

"Oh you did?" laughs.

"Yeah. It's completely retarded. It's all fucking messy algebra anyway."

"Yeah you're right. I spent hours and hours working on that problem and I didn't get anywhere."

"Yeah, oh well. Forget about it."

"So what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Umm.... tomorrow? I'll be doing a lap report."

"What?! You're not serious."

"Yes I am. Why?"

"You gotta do something tomorrow."

"Yeah, I'm doing my lab report."

"But you gotta go out, it's Valentine's day. You have to go on a date."

"I don't have any plans for tomorrow. And where am I gonna find a date all of a sudden?"

"Well you have to go out. Promise me you'll think about it."

"All right. I promise."

"Ok Snakehead, I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you. Bye."

"Bye."

Well, if cupid is out there and pointing arrow in my general direction, please tell him that I live in Berkeley, right next to Telegraph Road. If he doesn't know where that is, ask him to give me a call at G1J-HAK-D0M0.

If he's not, then to all the happy couples out there: treasure your partner. Put him or her on a pedestal for just one day, and cherish the moment.

Also, to all the unhappy couples out there: dump him/her. You're stronger than you think. You're more beautiful than you think. You're thinner than you think. And most importantly, your life is more complete than you think.

Innocence..... gone.

2006-01-26T21:55:00.000-08:00

This morning I got an email from Tim, who has helped me tremendously as far as putting my resume together. In this short email, he said his friend advice me to take the part that says I'm a member of Berkeley Queer Alliance out of the resume.

My heart sank.

And it got me thinking the entire day.

For as long as I can remember, I've always pride myself in being unconventional. People do things this way, I do things the other way. Foreigners who reside at a foreign country usually form a clique, and stay with it. I came to the US by myself with a gigantic luggage and an open heart 3 years ago, and I told myself I would not do that. There's a Chinese saying that goes, "since you're there, you might as well get used to it." And I did. I did just that. I made friends all over the place, people from all over the world, people who speak all kinds of languages. I don't have a clique. And I take pride in that even though at times, the feeling of "I'm foreigner and I'm alone in a foreign country" could be so strong it's almost unbearable.

But I did it. And I'm goddamn proud of that.

I once had a bitch boss when I was working as a tutor. She has been there forever and nobody dares to stand up to her. One day when my student didn't show, I decided to help a friend out with her homework. She wasn't my student and I did it as a favor. 10 minutes into the tutoring, bitch boss came over, interrupted me and asked me to be quiet while I was in the middle of explaining something to this friend of mine. Later, she reprimended me for using the work place for personal usage. According to her, the tables there are only for my students and my students only. If I wanted to help a friend, go to the library. I am under no circumstances ever to use those tables to help my friend out if they are not my student, even when (1) all the tables are unoccupied and (2) it was only for a short while. She was being ridiculous and unreasonable and I wasn't going to take that sitting down. So I stood up and I told her just that and I walked away. She never bugged me after that and we got along pretty well ever since.

I don't follow the norm when the norm is stupid. I stand up for what I believe is right. I do what I believe is right and I do it with gusto.

I once worked as a sales person at a clothing store. It was a big store and there were too many employees. People were stabbing each other in the back left and right. Everywhere you turn there's politics. It was just a clothing store, for God's sake. I knew that if I stayed there, I would eventually be consumed by them, by the politics and the back-stabbing. So I left. And I found a job in another clothing store. It was much smaller and pays a lot less. But I was happy. There were only 5 of us. And all of us got along extremely well partly because we share the hatred towards our bitch boss. I loved my job. I gave up money for happiness.

I still have that innocence in me. Innocence that tells me that I can conquer the world if I believe in me.

Today, I lose a bit of that innocence.

Engineering is a conservative field. People don't want to see queers flaunting their gayness all over the place.

I am gay. I am a proud gay man. I'm here, I'm queer and you better get used to it. But for the first time, I chose the coward way out. I follow the norm. I caved under the pressure. I'll make a new resume with minimal queerness. It's already hard enough for me to get a job, what with me being a foreigner and all. I don't need to make my life harder.

Right?

I don't need to make my life any harder, right?

You are beautiful.

2006-01-22T23:00:00.000-08:00

If you hold a glass of water for a minute, it's OK.

If you hold it for an hour, your arm aches.

If you hold it for a day, you're gonna have to go to the hospital.

Sometimes, you have to put the glass down, and appreciate the fact that you've hold it for a minute, and hour, or a day, give yourself a pat on your back, and carry on.

Sometimes, you need a tear or two to tell yourself that, after all this time, after everything you've been through, after all that you've encountered, you, are actually doing pretty great. Put that glass down, give yourself a pat on your back.

It doesn't matter if you're not the most beautiful looking person in the room.

It doesn't matter if you're not the smartest person in the universe.

It doesn't matter if your history is not as glory as the others.

You are who you are.

And you are beautiful for being who you are.

No amount of liposuction or nose job or face lift or breasts augmentation or penis enlargement is going to change that.

Life's too short for you to compare yourself to others.

Love yourself, and others will love you.

Respect yourself, and others will respect you.

And when time is hard, put that glass down and look back. See how far you've come, and give yourself a pat on the back.

Always.

Frustration.

2006-01-17T00:15:00.000-08:00

I'm back, for the moment.

Currently I'm at a crossroad. I'm graduating at the end of this year, and I desperately need an internship this coming summer. But I just found out that out of the 10 places I applied to, none were successful. But of course, those are financial companies and I have a chemical engineering degree. What am I doing with financial companies? That's because I don't know what I'm gonna do with my degree. I don't want to work at oil company, or pharmaceutical giants.

Sigh.... I don't know.

Then, I feel like I should do some travelling. I'm 22 and my schooling life is coming to an end and I have never been to anywhere in the world. Not even a single place. I NEED to travel. But when? This summer? What if I take a semester off and go travel? All these thoughts are dancing in my mind and I'm almost going crazy just thinking about them.

And if I go travel, I don't want to go alone. Would you go with me?

And my parents are coming for my graduation in May. Those 2 have not spoken in 7 years and I don't know what's gonna happen when they're in the same room for more than 3 seconds.

Goddamn it!! I hate crossroads. I think I'm just gonna find myself a sugar daddy and forget about all these.

Tim, baby, are you looking? *wink, wink*

Man that was gay.

Home.

2005-12-22T18:22:00.000-08:00

I'm going to the airport in 2 hours.

My flight leaves at five past midnight.

At five past midnight, I'm on my way home.

And on my way back to a whole lot of family drama.

Turkey is a bird, yes.

2005-11-25T22:32:00.000-08:00

My dinner party was a huge hit. The turkey, oh my God. It was so moist, the meat actually falls off the bone. I roasted it with a bottle of champagne, beasts down. That's why it was so moist. If I'm babbling, that's because I'm half drunk right now. The white wine we had was magnificent. All of us were so full, we can't even walk. Seriously, I'm gonna put on at least 4 pounds.

Thanks everyone for your advise!!

Turkey is a bird, no?

2005-11-19T17:47:00.000-08:00

Hello my readers, this is a request, sort of. I'm throwing a thanksgiving dinner party for 10, and I need turkey recipe. Does anyone have one, or knows where to look for a good one? I know there's millions on the internet, but I'm not sure if they are good.

Thank you very much in advance.

Going to church at lunch.

2005-11-14T19:16:00.000-08:00

"You know," I started as we were chowing down our delicious chicken quesadilla. "I envy you."

"Me?" Her eyes widened. She was incredulous. "Why?"

"Because your life seems so simple." I told her.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. You have everything going for you. It's like your life is set. You got nothing to worry about. Well, besides school." It's the truth, at least from my point of view.

"Well my living situation hasn't been very good since a week ago." She lives in a sorority house and a couple of her 55 roommates have starting talking shit behind her back. "I'm not a confrontational person, you know. But some of these things that I hear drives me mad."

"Do you think one of the reasons they are doing that is because you're such a nice person, like they know they can take advantage of you and you won't fight back?"

"Well, maybe."

"So just move out, go live with your boyfriend. You want to anyway. Get away from those bitches," I said.

"Yeah I'm thinking about it. Besides this, my mom is sick."

"What's wrong?"

"Cancer."

"Oh I'm sorry. What kind of cancer?"

"Breasts. But it kinda spreaded around. She's OK now. She just needs to get some more test to make sure they're all gone." A picture of a bald lady flashed into my mind. I quickly shoved that image away. "So," she continues. "That is putting alot of stress on me too."

"Okay, so I might be wrong. But from the outside, your life looks simple."

"Yeah, well I try not to get too stressed out about things, you know?"

"Yeah." We were silent for a minute or so. "My roommate is driving me nuts."

"Why?"

"Yesterday, I was home the whole day, procrastinating. And he had the TV on all day, and it's nothing but football. Football 24/7. Everytime I walked into the living room, football is on. I don't even know what the hell he's watching anymore. It's like there's 300 games on yesterday or something. And this morning, guess what I saw when I walked into the living room?"

"What?" She asked.

"Sports Center. Seriously, dude! I mean I don't hate football, you know. Football once in a while is cool. But 24/7? C'mon! And you know what else about him is driving me crazy?"

"What?" She asked, again.

"He's like a little kid. He walks around all day with these glasses of water. And when he's done drinking, he'll just leave the glasses wherever they are. He never picks up after himself." My voice is getting louder and louder. "And when I ask him whose glasses are those, he said he doesn't know! He freaking said he doesn't know! Like a little kid!"

"Haha. I do that sometimes to my mom too. She'll ask me whose dishes are those in the sink and I'll say I don't know."

"Yeah, exactly. It's not like we don't know those are his glasses. I know it, he knows it, everybody knows it. But he still denies it. Goddamnit!" Man, I'm seriously getting worked up over this. The salsa is not spicy enough.

"And you know what else?" I continued. "We have this beach ball in our house. Then one day, it disappeared, so I asked him where it was. He said he didn't know, but it turns out it's in his room. He's playing with it in his room! It's not even his beach ball!"

"Yeah. I'm having some problem with my boyfriend too."

"Why, what's wrong?"

"He's such a mess! It's like I have to take care of him all the time. I spent Friday cleaning up his apartment. I cleaned his kitchen, vacuum his carpet, washed his bathroom, made his bed for the first time in like a week!" Now she's getting louder. "But if he knows that I'm stressed out, he'll pull himself together. Like during finals, he'll bring me food at the library. I think that's very sweet."

"Well, you gotta compromise. Give and take. I don't know how to do that. Seriously. When I was with my ex-boyfriend...."

"Wait, you had a boyfriend? I thought you said you've never been in a relationship?" She interrupted me.

"It was only 3 weeks. I don't consider it a relationship. Plus that was long long time ago."

"3 weeks is quite a long time." She speculated.

"You wanna know what happened? He said 'I love you' the 2nd week we were seeing each other." I made a WTF? gesture with my hand.

"I have a theory about that." She said. "If you really like someone, it doesn't matter when they say it. Did you like him?"

I shook my head.

"See? That's the problem."

"So I was saying," I picked up where I left off. "Everytime he calls, and if I'm watching TV, I'll ask him to call me back."

"That's because you don't like him enough."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I've not had a crush on anybody in a long long long time! Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me."

"Well you haven't met someone that you really like."

"Yeah but how do I meet people?"

"Besides bars."

"Besides bars." I repeated. "This is San Francisco, but it's quantity here, not quality. I don't want to meet guys at bars. I mean, I usually score..."

She started laughing.

"Really. I'm not blowing my own horn or anything, but I usually score whenever I go out, but that doesn't mean anything. Have I told you about the last guy I slept with?"

"Yeah, you did." She started laughing again. "The one where you had to drug yourself to go to sleep. Hahaha... That was so funny. It should be on Sex and the City or something."

"Yeah, see what I mean? It was that bad." The sex wasn't bad. It's just the wrong person.

"I don't know. I think it's a Californian thing." She's from Maine. "People here seems more self centered. They only come to you when they need something. Not like the east coast. People there are more friendly."

"Really? I would think it's the opposite."

"No. I don't know. That's just my theory. 'Cause growing up there, I have 6 or 7 best friends that I can talk about anything with. But I have like 1 here, you know?"

"That's still better than me. I know a lot of people, but not many friends. They only come to me when they want something."

She nodded in agreement.

"Sometimes I think I'll be happier if I'm in a relationship." I said.

"I think so too."

"But what about those people who are in a relationship that hope that they are single?"

"That's because they haven't someone they're compatible with." She said.

"Exactly. And there is only 1 person like that in the whole world."

"No, I don't think so." She disagreed. "There's more than that."

"I hope you're right. Otherwise I'm gonna be an old man who has like 16 cats."

We both cracked up.

"So do you think my life seems simple?"

"Well, I don't know about that. But I do know that you're very successful at school..."

"You think I'm very successful at school?" I interrupted her. I will never in a million years use the term "successful" to desribe my school life.

"Yeah, you're smart. You can think on your own two feet better than I can. I think you'll do better at GRE than any one of us." By us she meant our study group.

"Well thank you." I'm flattered. "Are you gonna eat those quesadilla?"

"I don't know. Why? Do you want them?"

"I'll eat them if you don't want them. Don't waste food."

"Ok. I'll take half, you take half."

"Man this is so good!"

"I know. I'm so stuffed though. What time is it? I gotta go to class at 12." She said.

I looked at my cell phone. It's 3 minutes to 12.

"I guess we better get going."

We got up, bused our tables.

"That was a nice talk," I said as we were getting out of the restaurant.

"Yeah, like going to church," was her reply.

"What?!"

"Yeah, it was very spiritual. Talking about life and future. It's like going to church. Which way are you headed?"

"That way."

"Ok. I'll go this way. Bye Snakehead."

"Bye. Thanks for the lunch!"

I walked away feeling something that I couldn't exactly put in words. I went home and took a big fat post-lunch nap.

It was awesome.

Just me.

2005-11-07T17:50:00.000-08:00

"Love yourself, because nobody else does."

Today, I truly understand the meaning of it.

Friday night.

2005-10-25T18:14:00.000-07:00

"What you doing?" I asked my roommate. It's Friday night.

"Nothing."

"Wanna go grab a drink at the bar down the street? I feel like drinking." I said.

"Nah, it's all right. I'm feeling lazy, and I've already took my contacts out."

"Ok. Next time then."

"Are you still gonna go?"

"Yeah. I feel like drinking." My plan was to sit at the bar and drink and people watch. Therefore I didn't really put too much time into getting ready. My hair is half done, I'm wearing glasses, my jacket doesn't match my "Me So Horny" t-shirt and my shoes doesn't match my entire outfit. But I didn't care.

5 minutes later, I was there. I paid the cover charge, went it, and I overheard a man talking to his friends right at the bar.

"When I was 20 to 30, I looked great. I was cute! People complimented me all the time" He said. "Then when I'm 30 something, I don't get so many compliments anymore. And now that I'm 47, (sigh)"

I walked over, placed my hand on his thigh and said, "You're still very cute." He was stunned for a second, but managed to smile as he got his composure back. I smiled back, and walked away.

The bar was full, so I ordered an Absolut cranberry from the only bartender with a shirt on, and proceed to the dance floor, where they are having a who-has-the-best-costumes competition. There's a slutty nurse, a sluttier officer, a huge drag queen, a smaller drag queen and Edward Scissorhand. Of course Edward Sciccorhand won.

"Nice outfit," I said as he walk passed where I was standing.

"You're gorgeous," was his reply.

"Thank you." Karma, I think.

My 1st's gone, the bar's still fully occupied. I decided to hit the dance floor. A few songs later, I saw a cute curly blond dancing right next to me. He has nice moves. Really nice, actually. So nice, that I couldn't help but complimented him.

"YOU HAVE NICE MOVES!" I shouted into his ears.

"THANK YOU. YOU TOO!" was his response. I said thanks and we carried on dancing.

Later, cute curly blond left the dance floor to get a drink. I needed to pee. On my way back to the dance floor, he stopped me.

"WANT A DRINK?"

"WHAT?"

"WANT A DRINKKKKK?!!"

"SURE!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" He has a strong accent.

"ABSOLUT CRANBERRY."

"GOOD."

"THANK YOU."

"WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

"SNAKEHEAD. YOU?"

"PIETR."

"WOW, WHAT KIND OF NAME IS THAT?"

"POLISH."

"COOL. DID YOU SEE THAT BARTENDER? HIS NIPPLES ARE HUUUUGE!" Really. It's the size of ear plugs.

"WHAT?!"

"THAT BARTENDER. HIS NIPPLES ARE HUUUGE!"

"OH YES THEY ARE."

"LET'S GO SOMEWHERE WE CAN SIT."

"OKAY."

We got our drinks. He ordered a Cosmopolitan. What a fag.

"So you come here often?" I asked as we settle down. We had some insignificant small talks, most of which I don't remember.

"So where do you live?" he asked.

"3 blocks from here."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. You wanna come over and we can drink some more?"

He looked at me for a second, and said yes.

I uh...

2005-10-20T22:07:00.000-07:00

As I was walking down the hallway, I bumped into the TA that I wanted to see.

"Hey TA, you got a minute?"

"Not now, Snakey. Give me another 10 minutes and come to my office."

"Ok."

"Wait, what does your shirt says?"

I showed him.

"Well congratulations!" I have no idea what that means.

10 minutes later, I was at his office. Before I even settled down...

"So... are you gay?"

"Err.. yeah."

"Oh ok. So that explains the shirt then."

"Yeah. But you usually don't ask people that though."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because they might get offended. I mean I'm not offended or anything, but other people might."

"Then how are you supposed to find out?"

"I don't know. Talk behind their backs. Try to figure it out on your own until they tell you, and then you said 'I knew it!'"

"Well isn't that worse than asking somebody directly?"

"Well, not everybody wants people to know, you know? Like they are still in the closet or something."

"Okay, you are NOT in the closet. If you are, I'm seriously concerned about your concept of a closet."

"You never know. My closet could be huuuuge. I have a lot of shoes."

A special day.

2005-10-11T10:43:00.000-07:00

For the first time in 3 years, I feel like wearing underwear.

So I put a pair on, and go to school.

Me and me professor.

2005-10-07T10:43:00.000-07:00

Me likey me professor.

Me veli veli likey me professor.

Me professor has accent.

Me thinks me professor has nice ass.

Me thinks this is wrong, but me can't stop.

Mmmm... me likey long time!

If I have a piece of bread, I'll eat half of it. The other half, I'll keep for later.

2005-10-04T23:51:00.000-07:00

"Hi."

"Hey Snakey. What's going on?"

"Not much. How's it going?"

"I'm okay. Kinda tired. Been rehearsing all day. Now I'm walking home."

"Don't you live like 6 miles away?"

"Err yeah I think so. About 10 minutes drive. So that's about 5 or 6 miles."

"Damn! You walk that far home every night? That's crazy!"

"Well, not really. It's good exercise though. Plus I hate taking the bus. So this is actually good for me."

"Wow. Anyway, I talked to my friend, and he said he can do it tomorrow night at 6."

"Yeah you know what, Snakey? Let's just have dinner, you know. Just you and me. I thought about it more last night, and I'm really not comfortable with your friend taking pictures. Plus I only have an hour dinner break, so that'll be kinda rush. But we'll have dinner some time, you know. When I got more time and we can sit down and talk. I haven't seen you in what, 6 months? Yeah so I don't want to rush through the dinner, you know?"

"Yeah okay. That's fine. Don't worry about it. I'll let him know."

"Yeah sorry about that. We'll have dinner sometime, you know? When I'm not that busy. So how's school?"

If I have a piece of bread, I'll eat half of it. The other half, I'll give it to you.

2005-10-03T23:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine, M, asked if I can be his subject in a project he's doing for a journalism class. It sounded simple. All he needs to do is follow me around from time to time, take pictures, and make a story out of it in his portfolio. I thought it would be fun. So I said yes.

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if I know what lies ahead.

So he started taking pictures. And turns out, I'm not that comfortable at all. One night, he insisted of coming over. I was in my pajamas, in my bed watching Grey's Anatomy on ABC, and he's snapping away. No, it was no fun. Then another day, he followed me around from library to computer lab to TA's office. I'm not really complaining though. The pictures came out pretty good.

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if this is it.

M pitched his idea to his professor, showed him the pictures. The professor didn't like them. Why? Because nothing in those pictures show that I'm gay, and the core of his project centers around my being gay. So,

"Hi Snakehead, how's it going?"

"Good. What's up, M?"

"So I showed my professor the pictures. He said they were good, but it doesn't show that you're gay at all."

"Of course. I told you!"

"So I was thinking that maybe you can go out with my friend, O, and I'll basically take pictures of you guys going on a date."

"Are you serious?!"

"Yeah. Well, it doesn't have to be O, you know. You can pick whoever you want. I was thinking maybe a picture of you getting ready, all dressed up and stuff, and then one when he comes pick you up, and then one where you guys are going into a restaurant. And if we can find a car, maybe I'll get one when you guys are getting into the car or something."

"Err... Why don't you pick another subject?"

"It's too late now. I have to turn something in in about a week or two."

"Oh..."

Then something hit me.

"You know what? There's this guy I really wanted to go out with again. Maybe I can ask him if he wants to do it."

"Great. Yeah, go ask him. And then let me know. It's no rush, so you don't have to hurry."

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder if I really want it.

I called this guy up, told him the whole story, and asked if he wanted to do it. He seems relunctant, because he doesn't like his pictures taken. Did I mention he's an actor? Did I also mention he just graduated about a year ago, and is "putting his career first" by working 4 jobs? Did I also mention that we went out once, a while ago, and that I like him? Did I also mention that even after he said he's "putting his career first", I still hope that maybe, just maybe I can change his mind, even though he clearly stated that he's only gonna focus his attention on his career, and nothing else?

"I really don't want you to feel like you have to do this, you know? I know you're crazy busy, so just say no if you don't feel like it or if you don't have the time."

"Nah, it's alright. I'll do it. So we'll just go have dinner, right? And you said the pictures are only for him and his professor, right? Yeah, Okay. I'll do it. When does your friend need to do this?"

"I'm not sure. He just asked him and I said I'll get back to him. I guess the biggest question here is when are you available?"

"Yeah that's right. Let me take a look here. Monday to Thursday I got rehearsal at this theatre, Friday night I'm working at that theatre, Saturday I got rehearsal and Sunday I'm volunteering at this place, and my friend is visiting so I want to hang out with her..."

"You really don't have to do this. I know you're really bus..."

"Oh here's one. Wednesday I got a rehearsal from 1 to 6, and then I gotta stay and take notes for the show at 7 until they're done. So I got an hour window, from 6 to 7, on Wednesday, in Berkeley."

"Ok cool. I'll let him know and I'll get back to you tomorrow."

"Sorry Snakey. I'm just super busy all the time. One day I'm gonna take a break from theatre and just go far far away."

"Oh no it's alright. I understand."

Sometimes I wonder.
I wonder why.

Whenever someone asks if I have a boyfriend, the answer is no.
Whenever someone asks if I have a girlfriend, the answer is God no.
Whenever someone asks if I have a crush on anybody, the answer after a short pause is no.

One question nobody ever asked, and I never had to answer, is have I ever been in love?

The answer would also be no.

No, I have never been in love.
No, I don't know what it's like.
No, I don't know the feeling of being in love.

But I need to believe. I need to believe that one day, I will look a guy in his eyes, and tell him I love you, and mean it. Every word of it.

And I need hope. I need the hope that one day, I will find him. That's probably the reason why I'm barely hanging onto a string that's on the verge of breaking. I can't let go. I know I should, but I can't.

I mean, hope, is better than no hope, isn't it?

Isn't it?

It isn't, is it?

Sometimes I wonder.....

Enlightment.

2005-10-01T23:05:00.000-07:00

I never understand what's so fascinating about gymnasts. I mean, why does every single straight guy I know wants to fuck one?

Now I know.

I totally know.

I so totally know, dude.

Fame?

2005-09-28T11:58:00.000-07:00

I'm the most popular guy in 2 of my classes.

Not because I'm the hottest guy, although I'm pretty fucking hot.

Not because I'm the smartest guy, although I'm pretty fucking smart.

Not because I'm the nicest guy, although I'm pretty fucking nice.

It's because I speak all the languages everyone speaks.

Yeah, I'm tetralingual.

And I'm now hiding in the computer lab because I'm tetralingual.

See, when you're smart and nice and hot and fluent in 4 languanges, everybody wants a piece of you. I am sooooo good at telling people what was wrong with their solution, it's ridiculous. I'll take a look at their work, and within a minute, I can point out exactly what's wrong with it.

And then just when you thought you can sit down peacefully and work on your next assignment...

"Hey Snakey, what did you get for this problem?"

"Snakey, want to go eat?"

"Snakey, how did you do this part?"

"Eh have you done this homework yet?"

"Have you had lunch?"

"Hey, what's up Snakey. You look good today."

"Dude your presentation yesterday was really good."

So yeah, that's why I'm hiding in here right now.

Grateful Cartman says, Thank You.

2005-09-27T17:04:00.000-07:00

I read your comments.

I talked to my counselor.

The work load is still insane.

The future still looks bleak.

But,

I know I'll make it, one small step at a time.

So,

Thank you, Merkley, Citrinette, Martin, Ooda, Marriedman, Mitz and Digi. Your kind words were much much appreciated.

This is not what I signed up for.

2005-09-25T11:24:00.000-07:00

Back when I started this piece-of-shit-mother-fucking school, I heard many horrible stories. Many of them true, as it came from their own experiences. I've heard a couple Math majors jumped off the top of Evans Hall (the Math building, which is also the ugliest building on campus). They died, of course. Then I've heard another chemical engineering major told me that she studied until she cries. Then there's this person who started off with pre-med and ended up graduating with a mass communication degree.

I am here to tell you that these stories, are indeed, true.

Because I am about to jump off a tall building myself.

Because this is not worth it.

No, not worth it.

I started with a dream, in other words, an illusions that I will get a good job that pays well, and I'll be doing what I like. 3 semesters down the road, I realize that this dream is, for the lack of better description, bullshit. I couldn't be more wrong. Because it looks like I'm busting my ass off just to get a job in Oklahoma, Utah, or Ohio.

What. the. fuck. am. I. gonna. do. in. Ohio?

I'm about to quit.

They say the 4 years in college is the best time of of their lives.

I'm here to tell you that those people who said that? They are definitely not engineering majors, trying so hard to graduate with honors.

What's an honor degree for?

I don't know.

All I know is weeks after weeks after weeks after weeks of being pounded by mountains and mountains of work, I am this close to giving up.

When you're a football player, tens of thousands of people cheer for you when you score a touchdown. When you're a chemical engineer, what do you get when you solve an extremely difficult problem?

More problems.

That's it.

What you think somebody will pat you back and tell you what a great job you've done? You think somebody will cheer for you? You think maybe you'll feel like you've accomplished something?

WAKE THE FUCK UP AND STOP DREAMING, YOU STUPID FOOL! NO ONE IS GONNA CARE WHAT YOU'VE DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And you can't even tell anybody about it because no one will understand the difficulties of determining the final temperature of an isentropically expanded gas using the appropriate generalized correlations.

And the sadddest part is that you have to go through all these alone. No one to share your joy and sorrow. No one will give you a bear hug and tell you that it'll be all right.

No one.

It's gorgeous out. Sunny 72 degree, nice breeze.

I'll be going to the library in an hour.

Today is the end of week 4.

11 more weeks to go.

I seriously doubt I can make it.

What a life, huh.

2005-09-19T13:05:00.000-07:00

A 20 pages report due coming Tuesday - done.

A 30 minutes presentation due coming Tuesday - 70% done.

A pre-lab due coming Tuesday - done.

A problem set due coming Wednesday - 60% done.

A 5 minutes presentation due coming Thursday - 0% done.

Another problem set due coming Friday - 50% done.

I can't believe I got so much done in 38 hours.

I'm gonna reward myself.

What should I do?

What a life, huh?

2005-09-17T10:34:00.000-07:00

A 20 pages report - due coming Tuesday

A 30 minutes presentation - due coming Tuesday

A pre-lab - due coming Tuesday

A problem set - due coming Wednesday

A 5 minutes presentation - due coming Thursday

Another problem set - due coming Friday

I am honestly going to cry.

---------------------------------------

It's a beautiful day. Sunny. Happy. People walking their dogs. There's a football game and everybody is having a BBQ before the game. They're talking, laughing.

The closer I am to become a certified chemical engineer, the further away I am from my dreams.

Is this really what I want?

I cry.

Conversations.

2005-09-16T14:44:00.000-07:00

"Snakehead, open your eyes. Wake up. I'm about to cum."

"Huh? Oh."

"Oh oh oh..."

"All right let's go back to sleep."

"Wait, it's your turn now."

"It's all right. Let's just go to sleep."

I was drunk out of my mind and all I wanted to do was to pass out.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Snakehead, look! That dog is so cute!"

"Are those dingelberries?"

Amen.

2005-09-11T10:11:00.000-07:00

Picture courtesy of $liquisoft at deviantART.

Who am I?

2005-09-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

I am a bird who’s too afraid to fly, so I walk. I am a person too afraid to live outside the box, so I follow the norm. I am a boy too afraid to fall, so I never jump. I am a man too afraid to lose, so I never risk it all. I am a student too afraid to realize that I’ve chosen the wrong route, so I never look back.

Who am I?

In this pretentious world, I am just another person living behind his own walls. In this magnificently big world, I am just a grain of sand. In this ever changing world, I am just an ordinary twenty two year old in search of his own identity. In this world of gains and loses, I am just another regular player. In this world of kill or be killed, I am just trying to stay afloat. In this superficial world, I am just trying to figure out what’s real. In this artificial world, I am just looking for the one with flesh and bone.

Who am I?

I am a person who leaves my bed unmade in the morning, but hates it when the living room is too messy. I am a guy who takes in two thousand calories a day, and still weigh a hundred and twenty pounds. I am a self proclaimed “King of Procrastination”, and yet I do my taxes as early as possible. I am a person who knows what I want and what I need, but have absolutely no idea how to get them. I am a guy who thinks too much for my own good, but I am just too anal-retentive to stop. I am a person who can’t stand being around feminine homosexuals, and yet I sleep with five pillows. I am a guy who tells people to live outside the box, but I don’t know how to get rid of my own walls.

Who am I?

I am a filial son, a loving brother, a caring friend, a trustworthy confidant, a reliable sounding board, an easy going person, a fun roommate, a television junkie, a respective young man, an inconsiderate pedestrian, a careless driver, a good guy, an obsessive procrastinator, a gullible kid, a mature young adult, an obnoxious drunk, a champion sleeper, a strategic thinker, an emotional being, a sometimes hypocrite and a part-time neat freak.

Who am I?

Walking down this path that I’ve chosen, I am still trying to figure that out myself.

Stunning discovery.

2005-09-08T10:25:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I look absolutely fanta-bulous with nothing but a pair of jeans on.

Really.

I stared at myself in the mirror for at least 2 minutes, admiring my shoulder, my pecs, my abs, my ass and my gorgeous face.

If I weren't so busy I'd date myself.

Yet another lovely night.

2005-09-07T22:02:00.000-07:00

You came home after spending 3.5 hours in the computer lab trying to figure out how to use the stupidest "most powerful" math program to solve a problem.

It's 9.30 pm.

You're already tired.

You called your mom at school (she's a principal), and for some idiotic reasons, she decided to talk to you in the cafeteria amongst 200,000 screaming kids.

"What? Oh that. Yeah I know. What? Huh? What did you say?! I can't hear you! Uh huh, uh huh. What?!"

Why did you even bother to return her call?

Then your idiotic friend called.

"Hi Snakehead. I was wondering if you're graph is right? You sure? Have you double checked it? Is that what other people got too? Who else did you double check with? What did that other girl got? And she got everything exactly the same as yours? Can you go ask the TA tomorrow if your graph looks right? They're allowed to tell you that. Yeah you should ask him just to make sure."

Why did you even bother to send her the results?

Then you called a friend who just recently broke up with his girlfriend, he's not there. Then you saw him online, and he's acting like a mother fucking asshole.

Why did you even bother to see how he's doing?

Then you went into the kitchen. Plates in the sink, liqours on the counter, everything is everywhere. Roommate's friends are here visiting.

You don't even have the space to make dinner.

What a lovely evening, isn't it?

Old.

2005-09-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

You know how some evening after you woke up from a nap, walked to the local mexican place and had a burrito by yourself, and while you're sitting there, looking out the window, and out of the blue you really felt like crying.

You're so tired.

And then you woke up from your reverie and realize that the mexican place, is closed.

This is one of those evenings.

Cartman is sick, so no Happy Labor Day wishes today.

2005-09-05T13:54:00.000-07:00

I'm currently engulfed in The Great Shower Curtain Cold War Of 2005. My nemesis is my roommate, hereonafter will be known as Hairy Larrie. It's a cold war because we don't talk about it. I've lost tracked of how long this war has been going on, but I distinctively remember it all started when I installed the new shower curtain, perhaps a few months ago.

Ever since the new shower curtain has been put up, Hairy Larrie has a problem with it. I'm not exactly sure if he has problem with the curtain or the bath tub. But every single fucking time he goes into the bathroom, whether to take a piss, or trim his pubes, or drop the kids off at the pool, or sing (he only sings in the bathroom), he will pull the shower curtain shut, like this:

Exhibit A.

And I hate it. I think I've seen Psycho one too many times, and not being able to see what's behind the curtain just bugs the hell out of me. I kept feeling like there's somebody behind it with a butcher knife waiting to stab the next guy taking a piss. I just DON'T like it. So I always push it open, like this:

Exhibit B.

Now, isn't that much better? I mean, look how sunny it is! But no, Hairy Larrie doesn't think so. I'm considering taking the curtain down permanently. That way, The Great Cold War will come to an end, and I can 'accidentally' walk in on any one of my roommates taking showers. Killing two birds with one stone, now that's just brilliant!!

Or if you have a better solution, please let me know. I'm this close to enlisting our neighbors' help.

This camera I'm using is awesome. It makes all sorts of noise whenever you push a button. So I ended up playing with it a little longer and took a few more pictures.

See how clean it is? No piss behind/around the toilet whatsoever. And there's 3 guys living here. I'm proud to say that all of us are good aimer. Obviously we are very in touch with our weapons. Maybe one day we should have a contest and see whose cum shot can hit the bulls eye. By bulls eye I mean my mouth.

Hahahaha... It's funny 'cause it'll never happen. Except in my fantasy. Hehehe...

See this?
Let me hear you say, this shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
this shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
Again, this shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S
This shit is bananas
B-A-N-A-N-A-S!

I bet before this picture you didn't know that bananas are good friends with garlic and lime, did you?

Next I want to introduce you to my two best-est friends in the whole wide world.

The 3 of us, we go way back. Way way back. Whenever the time is right, they'll magically appear out of nowhere and we'll all get high together. And baby, the times are always right. I don't think I can live without them. These guys, they are family. FAMILY. I'll kill for them.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. At least temporarily. I started spending a lot of time hanging out with my new best friend ever since school started.

His name is Hookah. Hookah and I are bonding very quickly. He's a nice guy. He bubbles and tastes like cherry and orange. I love him. Although not as much as I love the other 2 guys, because nothing can replace them, I still love him very much. And I think he loves me too, because some nights, he magically appears right next to me on my bed. I mean, if that's not love then I don't know what is.

By the way, the preliminary results of my previous poll are in. It looks like style #3 is in the lead by a mile. But the poll is not over yet, so go vote for your favorite right now!

I need your precious opinions if you have the time.

2005-09-04T18:27:00.000-07:00

I saw the most unique pubic hair style at the locker room today,

and it inspired me to style my own either this way,

or this way.

Which one do you like most? The style that gets the most votes will determind what my pubes look like!! Please bear in mind that if you decided to vote for style #3, I will be standing in the bathroom staring at my pubes for a long long time and will most probably get dizzy and pass out. So please vote responsibly.

Let's hug it out, bitch!

2005-09-04T10:49:00.000-07:00

First week of school and I'm already miserable.

4 assignments in 4 different classes for the 1st week of school is just a little too fucking much, don't you think?

To top it off, none of my roommates has ANY homework. The one in optometry school flew to Colorado to see his girlfriend on Friday. The one majoring in Psychology has not lifted a fucking pen since school started.

Fuck me, please.

One day, I'm gonna burn the entire fucking school down. Then I'm gonna point at the ashes and laugh my ass off.

Fuck!

Don't expect too much posts from me for the next 4 months. Might as well, since I've already lost most of my readers anyway. The ones that still stick around, you know who you are, I know who you are, thank you very much for doing so.

I'm totally cheatin' dude.

2005-09-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

I was doing some house cleaning on all the documents I have on my computer, and I came across this silly little thing I wrote for craigslist not too long ago. I decided to share it since I don't have anything better to write. So, sit back, relax, grab a handful of popcorn, and enjoy.

Lights dimmed.

Curtains rolled.

Ssshhh...

Ready?

Here it goes.

It’s hard looking to settle down with the ONE guy that’s right for you in this superficial and artificial city, so I’ve decided to stop looking for that ONE guy. Instead, I’m looking for a part-time boyfriend. Yupe. That’s right. It’s part-time. Hey, everything sounds better when it’s part-time, right? So why not this? And if we really dig each other, or if you started sleeping around with other people, then we can talk about the possibility of you graduating from part-time to full-time boyfriend. Sounds good? Yes? Keep reading then. No? Well, keep reading as well because I’m witty and I’m going to write something funny. Who know, at the end of this posting you might want to email me something like “Holy shit dude, that’s the funniest shit I’ve seen in minutes dude!”, or something like “You must have too much free time, don’t you? If you’re that free, why don’t you go outside and save a kitten or plant a tree or ask random people if they want their nipples twisted for a fee, dumb ass!” or even something like “Hello, I know you’re gay and not interested in women, but give me one chance and I will rock your world! I have breasts the size of papaya, ass the size of honey dew, lips the size of bananas and I love eating fruits!”

So how this works? Follow me here.

We will have sex. But before we do, we have a whole shitload of things to do. First we’re gonna have to have dinner. Maybe coffee the first time, and then dinner the second time. By the end of the dinner, you will have to have impressed me with your sense of humor, or you maturity, or your smile, or your way of thinking, or your piercing blue/green/grey/red/purple/black/it-changes-colors-according-to-how-constipated-you-are eyes, or your hot hot body, or your feeling of security, or your sexy lips, or your wit, or your passion for something other than politics and religions, or your weirdness, or your hair, or the way you make me feel, or your good looks etc etc.

There WILL be spooning afterwards. No spooning, no sex. Period. And no snoring please. Otherwise I’ll squeeze your balls and pull your pubes until you stop. I do grind my teeth in my sleep, so you can grind your teeth as well.

Since you’ll be spooning me, you’re so very welcomed to spend the night. I’ll set my alarm so that we can have another orgasm before I have to go to school or before you have to go to work/school/back to your wife. I’m just kidding. No married man please.

Now that we’ve had the most important thing covered, let’s move on to something else.

I am very busy with school. So I will not have much free time to do what a full-time boyfriend should do during school. Things like cook for you, water your lawn, talk on the phone about nothing for hours will be very scarce. We don’t even have to do things together all the time. I do always have time to shower together to save water, or call you every night before I go to bed to kiss you good night, or remind you to pick up your dry cleaning and call your mother, or make you feel like you’re the biggest man in the world, or listen to you when you’re upset, or be there for you if you needed me. Above all else, I always have time to get drunk and get high, even on school night. In other words, I’ll be there for you if you need/want me to, and I hope you can reciprocate that.

Now, if after sometime we still dig each other, or if you started sleeping with other guys and I started feeling jealous about it, then we’ll sit down face to face, in an office, on each side of the table and discuss the option of promoting you to full-time boyfriend. We will discuss the raise, something like from 1 dinner, 4 blow jobs and 4 anal sex to 2 dinner, including 1 homemade meal (my fried chicken kick ass! seriously), 1 movie, 1 walking around holding hands, 2 going to the bars, unlimited blow jobs and unlimited anal sex. I’ll even throw in doing your laundry and walk your dog if I have to.

Sounds good? Shoot me an email then. I promise you I’m not fat, not a convict, not a killer, not a sociopath, not a woman, not tall, not stupid, not insensitive, not dull, not evil (maybe sometimes), not sloppy, not crazy, not a slut, not fake, not ugly and not an alien waiting to kidnap you and sodomize you.

Did I mention I love guys with stubbles/five o’clock shadows?

I bet you're dying to know if I met anybody from this post, aren't you? Okay, maybe not dying, but extremely curious.

Well,

Keep guessing!

Yay, I'm a school girl again! I mean, school boy. Boy, not girl.

2005-08-29T17:23:00.000-07:00

OxiClean!

Combines the cleaning power of oxygen and bla bla bla to make your day a better day!

Come take a test drive today and get a chance to win ding ding ding ding!!!
* OxiClean not available anywhere. Oxi and Clean each sold separately. OxiClean may not be suitable for you if you have liver disease or pregnant. Talk to your doctor and ask if OxiClean is right for you.

I am the new spokesman for OxiClean, because it's rocking my world right now. I wore a brand spanking new white jacket to school today. And on my way back, the sleeve somehow got stuck between the wheels and as a result, it has grease all over it.

However, no fear. I ran to Walgreens and bought a small bucket of OxiClean Versatile Stain Remover, and spent the next 30 minutes sitting on my bathroom floor scrubbing like a little bitch. And now? I'm thinking of jamming that jacket between the wheels again just so I can get the stain out with the help of the almighty OxiClean Versatile Stain Remover.

School started today.

1st lecture, professor tried erasing the chalk board with the BACK OF THE ERASER. I'm serious. I was copying the notes and out of the blues I heard someone snickered, I looked up just in time for him to say,

"Can anybody tell me if this is the wrong side? Yeah? See that's why I'm a dumbass. Haha! You guys are being lectured by a dumbass! All 200 of you. And that just make you the dumber-asses. Muahahahahacoughcoughcough."

Well, he didn't exactly put it this way but I know he totally meant this.

2nd lecture, professor smiles at the end of every sentence.

"My name is Anastasia Beaverhousing (smile). I am a beaver and I built housing (smile). Today we are going to learn about Thermo, hehehe. Does anybody know what Thermodynamics mean (smile)? Thermo means heat (smile), and dynamics mean motion, hahahahahahahahacoughcoughcough."

Well, she didn't exactly put it this way but I knew she totally wanted to.

I recently adopted a cat. His name is Meow Meow. I didn't exactly adopt him. It's more like he started sleeping in my backyard without paying rent so I decided to chase him away by feeding him every morning. So now every morning, I wake up, and depending on the size of my woody and how urgent my need to jerk off is (what?! Like you don't jerk off 1st thing in the morning), I'll bring a cup of water and the cat food into my room and start having food sex with myself.

Hahahhahahahacoughcoughcough.

Man, it must be allergy season nowadays. People are coughing left and right.

I'm not a cat person. Never have been. I think cats are stupid. Idiotic, if you wish. I mean, what do they do? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. I mean, cats chase mice? Ask the fucker who said that to come talk to me because I have never seen that. The only thing they know how to do is lick their own balls. That, they are really good at. I mean, the way they lift their hind leg for optimum access to their balls is just pure genius. I want to learn how to do that. I need to learn how to do that.

But seriously, I've been feeding Meow Meow for about a month now, and he still won't come within 2 feet of me. He used to run away whenever he sees me, so I guess this is an improvement. But I'd like to pet him, maybe ask him why he loves his balls so much. Do cats have penis? Or do they fuck with their balls?

I ran into my ex-not-a-fuckbuddy-not-yet-a-boyfriend last Saturday at the gym. The 1st thing he said to me was, "Wow you're teeth are really white! Did you just brush your teeth today?"

Errr......

I didn't. The last time I brushed my teeth was in the spring of 1984. Teeth brushing is just not my thing, you know?

New.

2005-08-28T11:11:00.000-07:00

You know how some morning, you woke up, looked at your morning woody and smiled.

Things are going to be all right.

This is one of those morning.

Notes to self.

2005-08-26T11:10:00.000-07:00

Note #1: next time, let your friend hold the bottle of tequila to prevent yourself from taking shots in the middle of the street.

Note #2: next time, when you arrive at the party already buzzed, pace yourself on the ridiculously good punch with bananas in it, especially when there are cute and obviously gay guys around that you wanted to talk to.

Note #3: next time, comb your hair before going to a party to prevent looking like a tweety bird.

And then you come home wondering why you're sleeping alone.

Am I subconciously having too much fun as being single, but conciously I'm suppressing myself from actually enjoying being single?

Sober and unkissed.

2005-08-24T17:55:00.000-07:00

Lethargic is a bad thing.

He's sitting there, watching the time goes by; staring at a pile of articles, hoping they would read themselves; thinking about the report, wishing they would write themselves.

Lethargic is a bad thing.

He doesn't even know what to do with his time.

Sometimes, he wonder if he needs therapy. In some way, he thinks he is all messed up. But then he realizes that he is just thinking too much.

Right?

He justified it with the reasons that sometimes, he stared at the keyboard, wanting to write something gut-wrenching, but he draws no inspiration. His life, up to this point, has been blessed. He knows it. He treasures it. He knows himself well. He knows what he has, what he needs and what he wants.

What he wants is a relationship. What he needs is not to have a relationship. He knows himself well like that. His past experience in his life tells him that he is not ready. At all. He would rather watch Gilmore Girls than talk to his boyfriend on the phone. He is too selfish to share his life. He hates it when things don't go his way. His response to his boyfriend's "I love you" was "are you serious?"

I love you.

Are you serious?

Oh just shut the fuck up.

Sometimes he thinks he thinks too much, too afraid to take any chances, overanalyzing things. He can't help it, for he is the anal-est person to ever sit on his own balls. But he also once went on 5 days without showering. His hair was so greasy then he actually scrambled an egg with the grease. It wasn't tasty.

At the end of the day, he knows that all that are just excuses, excuses, excuses. Yet he is not motivated to do a damn thing.

Lethargic is a bad thing.

The other night he watched the series finale of Six Feet Under. In the commentary afterwards, someone said, "they are afraid to love because they crave love so much."

He ponders that sentence for a long time. He is frightened that he would turn into one of "they", yet he doesn't know what to do. He is still too young and too naive to figure that out.

Sometimes he thinks he has been single for so long, he doesn't even care anymore. He goes to the gym in PJs and flip flop. Some might consider the gym 'a gay church'. He goes to the gay church in PJs and flip flop. If there is a gay Jesus he would've been smacked 10,000 times by now.

Most of the time he would go to school with no products in his hair. And he knows damn well that his hair looks exactly like a birdnest in the morning. He buys nice colognes for displaying purposes, not for wearing. And he knows damn well how important a person's scent is. In some way, he believes his prince loves the smell of fish and feet.

No, silly. You will never get to smell him when he is fish and feet. That right is reserved especially for his husband.

When was the last time I wrote a sex post? It has been too long.

2005-08-22T19:28:00.000-07:00

I'm getting a little horny.

So, door is closed, blinds are drawn, lube is out, porn¹ is running.

Then, while I was unzipping my pants, I shifted a little bit and somehow, I magically sat on my right ball.

Yes, that's right. I sat on my own testicle.

As you can imagine, my hard on returned to soft on, and instead of jerking off, I'm sitting here howling in pain.

Fuck. My balls are huge.

This better be a blessing in disguise. What kind of blessing? I don't care. Maybe it's a sign telling me I should enter "The World's Biggest Testicle Contest".

Might as well anyway. I'm super broke from my trip to Philly.

Anybody needs any sexual favors? I give my readers extra-special rate. So extra-special, I can't even disclose it here. You gotta email me for it².

¹ Just for the record, it's a GAY porn.

² I am in no way insinuating that I'm a hooker or a prostitute. I'm totally "stripping to pay for college".

Fin.

2005-08-21T23:45:00.000-07:00

“Hey so are you coming to Williamsburg or what?” Steve asked right after he tried to sink one of his stripe balls. It was Friday night, and we’re having a mini party. Not so much as a party, but more like a bunch of drug addicts getting high together.

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. The train ticket is kinda expensive. What is it, like 60 bucks or something?” I bent down and took aim. My cue hit the white ball, the white ball hit a solid ball and both of them went straight down the side pocket.

“Actually it’s 70 bucks one way. But I have the 25% discount thing so it’ll be like 110 round trip,” he said as he fished out the white ball and positioned it somewhere on the table.

“What?!” I wasn’t expecting it. “Dude, then I don’t think I’m going dude. I’ve already spent waaaay too much money on this trip.”

“Are you serious? Tell Boz what you just said.”

“What?”

“Tell Boz what you just told me,” Steve turned around and yelled at our friend who’s sitting on the couch, talking to another friend of ours, Nick. “Hey Boz!”

Boz looked up.

“I’m not going to Williamsburg anymore. It’s too expensive.”

“I’ll give you the money for the ticket,” he said right before he turned his attention back to his laptop and murmured something to Nick. They both laughed.

“What? Are you trying to get rid of me or something?” I asked, but he didn’t hear me. I looked back at Steve, he gave me the I-don’t-know-anything shrug and proceed to sink a stripe ball with flourish.

I lost that game of pool in the end.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So uhh about Williamsburg,” Boz brought it up again after he picked me up at the train station. I just came back from the Philly Art Museum. “I’ll give you 80 dollars for your ticket. No offense or anything, but I kinda want to be by myself for a little bit, you know?”

“Okay,” I said. I’ve been staying with him for 6 days now. Last night, right after I got the feeling that I wasn’t that welcomed anymore, I started thinking about going to Williamsburg. And the more I thought about it, the more it sounds like a good idea. I mean, partying and smoking? Plus somebody offered to pay for the train ticket. Whatever the intention was, I’ll take it.

“There’s a train that leaves tomorrow at 2.30 in the afternoon. I was thinking you can stay there till Tuesday morning, and then take a train to DC, and walked around there for a little bit, and then come back here. We’ll go to New York on Wednesday,” he continued.

“Sounds good.” What do you say when your host is literally kicking you out? What can you say?

We were both quiet for the rest of the way. He had the top down and we were zooming through the back roads in his Miata. I’m starting to get used to the humidity. It reminds me of home. Oddly enough, many things in Philly reminded me of home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Did you guys get wings?” Steve asked as me and Boz entered his house.

“Yeah. Wings To Go. It’s Suicide,” I said as I proceed to chow down. “Man these are good!”

“See? Told ya.” Boz said.

“Oh man the fries is awesome!”

“Yeah they are pretty good.”

“Oh hey Steve,” I turned my attention to Steve with half a wing in one hand, another half in my mouth. “I’m going to Williamsburg.”

“Oh really?! I am going to Williamsburg too!” He joked. I decided to play along.

“Really? When are you going?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Really? Me too!” I gasped. “What a coincidence.”

“Yeah so where are you staying?”

“I don’t know. There’s gonna be parties at Williams and Mary right? I guess I’ll just passed out at the different party every night then I don’t have to worry about that.”

“That sounds great!”

“But seriously, do you have a place for me to stay?”

“Yeah, we have a couch. But you gotta help me move it from the storage.”

“Okay.”

“Oh and you’re gonna have to find a way to get to the frat house from the train station. I’ll be too stoned and too drunk to come pick you up.”

My heart sunk for the nth time that day. I thought when you invite someone over to your school to party, that someone is technically you so-called ‘guest’. I also thought that it would be rude to ask your ‘guest’ who has never been to where he was going, to “find a way to get to the frat house” by himself, especially when said ‘guest’ will arrive after dark.

“What are you serious?!”

“Yeah. It’s not too far away. It’s like a half a mile walk. I just don’t want to go pick you up when I’m stoned. Because it’ll seem like I’ll be walking forever and it’ll take forever.”

That was day 6 of my summer vacation. I’ll be staying for 8 more days. Note to self: next time, plan a short vacation. 14 days? Waaaaaaaaaaaay too long.

“And then on your way back on Tuesday, you can stop by DC and check out Smithsonian.”

I looked at him. I didn’t say anything. My heart sunk even lower. I just realized that my “Welcome to Philly” period has passed. When your friends got together and drew up a plan to pretty much “ship” you to somewhere else without even asking you first, even though it is YOU who is going, you know that you’ve been there too long.

It’s time to go home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hey Snakehead!”

“What?”

“Come upstairs!”

I went up.

“We’re gonna buy the train ticket.”

No, that wasn’t a question. That was a statement. We are going to buy ticket so they can get the hell away from me. I started wondering if I did anything wrong. Perhaps I’m too west coast-y for the east coast? Perhaps I should’ve just sit in a corner instead of actually talking to their friends and gotten along with them pretty smoothly?

“Okay.”

2 minutes later,

“Fuck. This doesn’t work for some reason.”

“What doesn’t work?”

“My Amtrak student card. I’m not getting the 25% discount. What now, Boz?” I’m just a puppet. They make the decisions for me. It’s time to say something.

“You know what?” My lips moved and those words came out. “Why don’t I go home?”

“You sure?” Boz asked. Was it just me or did his face just light up?

“Yeah. I’ve been here long enough anyway.”

“But I don’t want you to feel like we’re making you do this.”

“Oh no no no. I just need to check see if I can change my plane ticket. What’s America West’s number?”

5 minutes later, I found out that I would have to pay $250 to change my plane ticket. Do I want to pay $250 to leave tomorrow instead of a week later? My Mastercard said no. My Visa said no. My checking account said no. But my heart, my heart said yes. The decision has already been made, regardless of how much in debt I am or how much I’ve spent.

“Snakehead, I heard you’re leaving tomorrow,” Julie said as soon as she came up. “Is that true? I thought you were staying for another week? I thought you were coming to New York to visit me?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ve stayed here long enough.”

“But how much you have to pay to change your ticket? Wait, are you leaving because of us? I know I haven’t been hanging out with you a lot and all, but are you leaving because you felt like we don’t want you here or something?”

“What?! No no no no!”

“Then why? Are you homesick? Because that’s understandable. You’ve been here for a week.”

“Yeah, actually I kinda am,” I fibbed.

“Oh well then. I’m sorry you didn’t see New York.”

“Well, there’s always next time, right?” I smiled. “Now let’s get down. Is there anymore wings left?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So what do you think of the east coast?” Boz asked as he was driving me to the airport. We spent the entire day together, visited the interesting Franklin Institute and the stomach-turning Mutter Museum. I think he did this out of guilt. I think he knows that he’s the reason I’m going home a week earlier, and I think he knows I know.

“I love it. It’s great. I’m starting to get used to the weather. I mean, look at this. Tonight will be a great night. And the food, don’t even get me started on the food. I had the best meatball sub of my life, the best fries of my life, the best fried chickens of my life, the best cheese steaks of my life. I mean, I would come here again just for the food.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see New York. If there’s another place I love more than Philly, it’s New York.”

“Well, there’s always next time, right?”

“Yeah, definitely. If you ever want to come out here again, you know, just give me a call.”

“You know what? I think I will. And if I do, I’ll stay for a maximum of 5 days,” I held up 5 fingers. “That way you won’t get sick of me and try to get rid of me.”

He laughed. “That sounds great.”

I looked at him and smiled.

At that moment, we both came to a mutual understanding. The tension melted.

I bought the right decision with 250 dollars.

And it’s all worth it.

Summer vacation part 2.

2005-08-18T16:40:00.000-07:00

- Eastcoasters use only 1-ply toilet papers, no matter how filthy rich they are. This has been confirmed at over 5 residences. Reason(s) behind this peculiar observation is/are still under investigation.

- Jersey shore is cool. Body surfing is so totally awesome. Being swept away by the waves is NOT cool. NOT cool at all.

- King of Prussia Mall is ridiculously HUUUUUUUUUUGE. My legs still hurt from all the walking. My wallet still hurts from all the money spent. But I look so fucking hot in all the new outfits I bought, including a pair of yellow Corona Light boxers and matching flip flops.

- Wakeboarding and water skiing sucks. Well, it's more like I suck at them. Seriously. I suck at them soooooo bad, I'd have more of a chance at sucking a man with erectile dysfunction who forgot to take his Viagra to complete hard on than getting up on the water.

- Chase Utley is still so fucking hot.

- I haven't jerked off in 5 days. It's a record. My ball sack is so full of sperms it's going to explode any minute now.

- I had Wawa meatball sub on Sunday. I had Wawa meatball sub on Monday. I had Wawa meatball sub on Tuesday. I had Wawa meatball sub on Wednesday. I was going to have a Wawa meatball sub today but the fucking dog ate it after I passed out last night.

- Please excuse all the profanities. I'm still hung over.

HAHAHAHAHHA

2005-08-17T21:31:00.000-07:00

i AN SO FUCKINF DRUNKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK ABD I'M WATCHING ALI G RIGHT NOW. WHY AM I TYP-ING IN CAPITAL LETTERS?

Summer vacation part one.

2005-08-15T22:23:00.000-07:00

So I went to a baseball game tonight for the first time in my 22 years of life.

What?!

Give me a break. I'm gay. The only balls I like are the ones hanging below a penis. These balls are awesome. Not as awesome as penis though. Nothing is awesome-r than penis. They are the best thing since sliced bread.

So anyway, I went to a baseball game. The stadium was nice, the HUGE projector screen was nice, the seats were nice (we had box seat tickets), and Chase Utley was h-a-w-t! Man, he has one nice ass!

How was the game?

I have absolutely no idea what the hell was going on the whole 2 hours we were there. The girl sitting next to me was explaining the game to me the whole time, and I still have no idea. I didn't even know who won the game until someone actually said "Phillies lost".

So yeah, baseball is not exactly my thing. But I had a great time. The weather was awesome. The first day I got to Philadelphia was apparently the hottest day of the century. The minute I got out of the airport, I immediately wanted to turn around and get on the first plane back. Whoever that said 'east coast is the best coast' apparently has never visited west coast. Because we all know that west coast is the best coast. I mean, c'mon, sunny and breezy at 75 degree everyday? What more can you ask for?

The next thing that bugs me about east coast is the cicadas. Stupid fucking cicadas. Shut the fuck up!! Aren't you only suppose to come out once every 15 or 20 years? From what I've heard, you were out last year, the year before and this year. WTF, mate?! I don't mind you around, but just keep your hormones under control and shut the fuck up when I'm trying to sleep!

The night I got here my friends took me to Pats, and I had the best cheesesteaks in my life there. And then there's Wawa. Oh my God. They have the best, and I mean the best, meatball sub ever. I get hard just thinking about it. Their meatball subs are the best thing since penis since sliced bread. I'm not kidding.

Yesterday we went sailing, and it was awesome. You can't get more relaxing than that. It's like the best thing since Wawa's meatball subs since penis since sliced bread. That, and the fact that you're sailing with a hot guy just makes it so much better.

See? I said hot guy. I am sooo gay. You hear that? I am gay. Not straight.

And of course, how can I forget the weed? These people I'm hanging out with? Totally jaded stoner. Last night we didn't have a pipe or a bubbler or a bong or a can, so one of them make a pipe out of aluminum foil. I immediately fell in love with him. He had me at "I can make a pipe out of aluminum foil". My nipples got ragingly hard the second he said that.

Too bad he's straight. Why are all the good ones straight or married?

Oh and by the way, Mr. or Ms. only free sites that show pics. and videos of hugh wore out pussies, you are sick. Go see a doctor or check yourself into a loony bin.

Snakey.....OUT!

2005-08-13T05:22:00.000-07:00

Coz I'm leaving on a jetplane
I don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I have to go.

Sunburned Barbarian wishes ME...

A HAPPY SUMMER VACATION!!
Please drink responsibly.

He seems kinda angry 'cause he's jealous and sunburned. Plus he cut himself this morning while putting his helmet on. I told him to get rid of the horns but he just won't listen.

See you guys on the other side of the country, where I'll be 3 hours older and my dick will be 3 inches longer!

Ladies and gentlemen,

2005-08-11T14:20:00.000-07:00

I give you,

my ass.

Nice ass, huh? And the mankini^© line is awesome, isn't it?

You have no idea how hard it is to draw your ass while looking in the mirror at the same time. I mean, it take a lot of practise to get it right.

I'm seriously considering becoming an artist specialized in human anatomy. I have to let my talents shine!

I'm so delirious I'm random.

2005-08-10T14:55:00.000-07:00

My house smells like rice.

My room smells like me.

Last night I saw my neighbor's door wide open at 2 am, but everyone was asleep.

One time I stole 2 cloves of garlic from the grocery store. I didn't hide it in my pocket. It was in a bag with 4 other stalks of Bak Choy. The cashier didn't see it. I came home all excited and told my roommate, and he lectured me.

I've been studying like crazy since Monday.

I've been jerking off like crazy since Monday.

Studying and jerking off always go hand in hand. At least for me.

My 3rd iPod is finally working properly. I'm starting to like it. As a result, I've been walking around a lot instead of riding my bike.

They say walking can lead to the production of a great ass.

I'll keep you guys posted about that.

You and me? We are so over.

2005-08-08T19:57:00.000-07:00

I'm going to let a war hog chew off my testicles before I buy another Mac product.

Today I went to an Apple store to get my 2nd broken iPod fixed. I got there exactly at noon. Guess how long do I have to wait to talk to those mother fuckering "Mac Geniuses"?

3 bloody fucking hours.

3 mother fucking bloody hours.

And it only took them 10 minutes to give me a replacement. So now I have a 3rd new iPod in 2 weeks.

I have completely lost faith in all their products. They are all expensive piece of shits.

During the 3 hours I was there waiting like a moron, I went around the store and changed every single on-display iPod's backlight settings to 'always on'.

I get a strange satisfaction out of it.

Perhaps I should've changed the language to Korean or Chinese as well.

Today I hate title.

2005-08-07T13:44:00.000-07:00

"You asshole!"

A lady whose freestyle looks like she's drowning because there's a frog pulling her from underwater said that to me this morning while we're swimming at the pool.

Why?

I'm still trying to figure that out this minute. But I have a few theories.

a) she hates hot guys in red speedo
b) she hates hot guys in red speedo who actually knows how to swim
c) she hates hot guys in red speedo who actually knows how to swim who accidentally touched her foot
d) she hates hot guys in red speedo who actually knows how to swim who accidentally touched her foot because she was going up and down while everybody else was doing laps.

Later, I observed her for a while, man, I gotta tell you, she has no rhythm at all. If she swings her arms any faster, the local meteorologist might have to issue a tornado warning. And instead of kicking the water, she's actually fanning the person behind her with her feet.

Anyway, I got my iPod back on Friday. And I'm already tired of it. iPod is so overrated. Besides, this allegedly new iPod that they sent me has broken backlight. The light would blink rapidly and then poof, no more lights.

I've always thought Mac sucks. I can't believe their products are agreeing with me. MAC FUCKING SUCKS ASSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!! And there's nothing you Mac people can say to change my mind.

No.

Not at all.

From now on, my 1st impression of Mac? Looks good on the outside, rotten on the inside. Mac is only good for one thing: display.

While we're at that, I got something that will probably blow all your minds away.

1) I don't like carbonated drinks, i.e. sodas. If I have the time, I'll open a can of Coke and let it sit until it's flat before drinking it.
2) I hate cold drinks. If you give me something straight out of the fridge, or worse, the freezer, I'll politely decline your offer and instead pour myself a glass of warm water. I like my water luke warm.
3) I despise beers. Oh my God I fucking hate beers. They all taste the same. From Pabst Blue Ribbon to Corona to the best beer in the world, they all taste like horse piss to me. Not that I've actually tasted horse piss, mind you. I'm just saying beers taste as bad as horse piss.

Titty Man

2005-08-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

by Rock Baby

Warning, warning
This poem is not suitable for those who take life too serious
And lack a sense of humor.

Titty man gone wild
Titties, titties, titties!
I love me some titties
Big titties, small titties, skinny titties
Tall titties, titties sagging down
Titties juicy and round.

I love me some titties
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
I like those titties with a dark nipple in the middle
And ohhh! When they jiggle
Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle
Iggle, iggle, iggle, iggle
Iggle, iggle, iggle.

Breasts-ises
B-R-E-A-S-T-S--ISES
Just another name for those titties
You see they come in all shapes and sizes and forms
The average person don't know 'em like I know 'em
This goes for the ladies, too
Who've had titties
All their life.

I can tell the difference between a real titty, a fake titty
A too-young titty
And a titty that's ready and ripe
'Cause I'm a titty man
Hell, I could tell your future
If you just let me hold those titties in my hands.

You see, it does something to me when I see and hear a bra snap
When those titties stand out
It makes a brother like me
Moan and groan and slooooobber at the mouth
Especially when they're naked and pressed up against my chest
It makes it difficult to choose the type of titty that I love the best.

It could be old titties, swoll titties, titties hanging loose
Titties that look like fruits
Titties fully grown
Titties made of silicone
Tittes that make you always wanna hold her
Titties that you can throw over your shoulders.

Titties, difference colors, and I need them
Tittes on people who don't need them
Mean titties, sad titties
Titties that make you wish you had titties
Perfect titties squeezed together
And pushed to the front.

Now if I had a pair of titties
Those would be the type of titties that I'd want
Because I looooove me some titties.

I like 'em on the beach
In the sand
And when it's hot at home
I like to lick those titties in front of a fan
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh..

Whether in a regular, laced or fuzzy bra
I like those tittes that belongs to super stars
And for those ladies with those titties swoll like 2 balloons
I like to stick my face between 'em and go.

Bur-bur-bur-burrrrrrrrr!

Because I loooooove me some titties
LORD!

I was watching Def Poetry and I came across this guy. He had me laughing so hard I peed my pants. You should totally check him out. Season 3, episode 4.

Just thought I'd share.

Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go take a nap. Translating a whole poem into words is so very tiring.

'Tis.

2005-08-03T19:58:00.000-07:00

I walked to Walgreens located 2 blocks from my house to get something.

On the way back, I saw a family of 6 taking a post-dinner walk on my block. Husband and wife, 2 little girls, and 2 dogs.

I stood there and watched them. It was serene and tranquil.

They saw me.

They waved.

I waved back. Then I turned around and continue walking.

It was...... nice.

Someday, I want a family of 6 of my own.

Me, the man I love inspite of his beer belly and him being a little rough around the edges when it comes to some things, our kids Ethan, Josh and a girl whose name I haven't decide yet, and a yellow lab.

And on a beautiful evening like this one, we'll take our own post-dinner walk.

Yes, we will.

It's a promise.

Don't even have time to take a piss.

2005-08-03T10:21:00.000-07:00

I've been extremely busy this couple days. Got a buttload of shit to take care of. That sentence just cracked me up. A buttload of shit. Hahahahahahaha....

So, uhh, where was I?

My iPod is on it's way to the iHospital, where he'll be (insert all the kinky stuff you can do with an iPod here), (here) and (here). Marriedman, don't let me down now, K? Show us your true color. Bring your nastiness to a whole new level!

Besides that, I've been too busy procrastinating. You have no idea how much work it takes to procrastinate studying a class that you're on the brink of failing. Do you know how much stress that is? Lying on my bed watching TV and worrying about failing that mother fucking stupid class at the same time? It takes years and years of practise, my friend.

I got my midterm back today. Thanks to all of your lucks, I got a 42/75. Not too bad, but that means that I need to get a 79/115 on the final next Friday to get a bloody C- in the fucking class, which will inevitably pull my GPA way way down.

GODDAMN MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCHY BASTARD!!!!!!!

That also means that I won't be able to write as often as I'd like for the next week or so, even though I have something I wanted to write about. Stress kills all my inspiration to write.

On the other hand, I'm going on a vacation next Saturday, the day after final, for 2 weeks. Mainly in Philly 'cause that's where my friends live, but I'll make them drive me around the east coast as this is my first visit to the east in my entire life. I'm bossy like that. They should know the whole world evolves around me by now. Plus I give them free blow jobs/hand jobs/rim jobs in return. In my opinion, they are getting the better part of the deal here. But, whatever.

So, what's there to do on the east coast?

I got Jersey shore, South St., Philly Art Museum, NY MoMA, Smithsonian and a bunch of partying and pot-smoking on the list.

Got any suggestions?

Man, I can't wait to be inebriated and high for 2 weeks. That's gonna be a-w-e-s-o-m-e.

Hey! Something just hit me! Do you want to guest blog? Like what Jazz was doing for a little while? If you do, send me something and I'll post it. Preferrably something perverted, but that's totally up to you.*

* This feature is inspired by Jazz, brought to you by me, and is totally not patented. All inspirations are credited to the woman with the most stunningly beautiful cleavage in blogland.

Sigh.......

2005-07-31T21:39:00.000-07:00

I bought a brand spanking new broken iPod mini that only worked for a day.....

Sigh....

I'm hoping that it's the iPod, and not my computer that screwed up.

No more iPod for the next 10 days.

Sigh....

Did you hear that?

That's me sobbing in my little corner.

What?! What did you just say? I can't hear you! You gotta speak up!

2005-07-29T19:49:00.000-07:00

Sorry. What were you saying?

It's all my brand spanking new iPod mini's fault. It's TOO FREAKIN' LOUD!!!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have just acquired a brand new silver iPod mini. I know, I know, it's not a novelty anymore, but at least I am now considered hip enough to hang out with those hip folks at Starbucks, Ikea, Kabbalah center and Mr. Cruise's "You're GLIB" Scientology clinic that sells every single kind of vitamins imaginable.

Constipated?

No problem. Here, take these vitamin CON, vitamin STI, vitamin PA, and vitamin TED three times a day, each time right before you eat Lay's potato chips. These vitamins along with the "baked, not fried" and the "betcha can't eat just one, bitch" goodness of the chips will react chemically with your constipated poop and turn them into farts. Just let out a good long fart for about 44.6 seconds after that, and you will be good again.

See, I'm a poor college student. I live in a cardboard box under the London Bridge. I'm actually thinking of moving 'cause people keep telling me that London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down. I can't afford underwears besides g-strings, and I eat spaghetti pasta with ketchup twice a day, everyday. Sometimes when I save up, I'll be able to toss some garlic and olive oils in it.

That's why acquiring an iPod mini is so big to me. You have no idea how much pain I went through just to save up for this baby. For the last couple weeks, instead of eating ketchup spaghetti pasta, I have been ordering take outs. Do you know what that's like? You say you do but I know you don't.

Truth is, as you might or might not have known, I recently sold my car. And since I just paid for my car insurance, I'm getting a refund enough to cover the iPod. I figured I should at least compensate myself with something worthwhile now that I'm carless.

Speaking of carless, it's been 23 days now and I still have not bitched about it. Wow. That's impressive! I think I'm gonna reward myself with a handjob or two tonight. Ooooo... I can't wait!

I went swimming today for the 1st time since Tuesday, and I broke my own personal record. I swam non-stop for 22 laps. That's like 1100m, people! How many miles is that? I know that by the time lap 22 was over, I was pretty sure I've swam from here all the way to Digitalicat's neighborhood.

I have another impressive record today. Today is the daily-double day, according to Alex Trebek. Everything is twice as big, twice as impressive and twice as high today.

So, what's so impressive?

I'll tell you now.

I continously hiccupped for 2133 times today.

Started when I had really superbly greasy chinese food for lunch. Lunch ended at 11.40am, hiccups started at 11.41am. I timed it and found out that each hic (each cup?) is 9 seconds apart. And the first time I noticed they were gone was at 5pm, while I was at the pool. So (320 x 60) seconds/9 seconds = 2133.

Impressive, isn't it?

Told ya.

By the way, does anybody know how to use Matlab or Mathematica or Mathcad or anything resembling these programs? I have a bunch of data and I need to fit them into an equation. If you know how to do that, can you help? I'll offer a blowjob in return.

Me, myself and Mariah.

2005-07-28T22:09:00.000-07:00

I'm super high.

I'm watching Mariah Carey's videos on Yahoo Music.

I have a midterm tomorrow morning at 8.30 am.

I have about 5 more days of reading to go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm still watching Marich Carey.

I can't stop myself.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Still listening to Mariah.

And also searching for pictures of Dyson vacuum cleaner.

Those fuckers cost about 600 bucks!!

I think I'm getting an erection soon.

I hate school. updated twice!!

2005-07-27T10:30:00.000-07:00

No, actually I don't hate school.

I hate my classmates.

Fucking pre-meds.

They are single handedly flunking me out of my class.

Mother fuckers.

The school is not that much brighter. Making chemical engineers take a molecular cell biology class is just plain stupid. Not quite as stupid as gay republicans, but very close. Gay republicans are just plain fucking morons.

Doctors and physicians are SO overrated. And stupid. And have no life. Because they NEED an A in the stupidest class in the world. C'mon people, it's freakin' summer for Christ's sake! What are you doing studying day and night?!

And it definitely doesn't help that everyday I come home, my roommate greets me with, "wanna smoke?"

So now I have to go hide in a cave with no internet access and no weed and work my ass off so that I can get a fucking C-.

Please send me some luck if you have extra to spare. Because if I have to take this class over again, I swear I will go postal on all those bitches.

*UPDATE*

I thought going to school to study would be a good idea.

I was dead wrong.

There's a couch, a computer WITH INTERNET ACCESS, a box of Jenga and a dartboard in this room.

Think I'm gonna start by taking a nap first.

*UPDATE #2*

Check this out.

Someone googled site:blogspot.com OR site:diaryland.com OR site:blogger.com speedo OR speedos locker, and spent 17 minutes here.

Hey, Mr. Googler, if you see this, drop me a line! I'm interested in talking to you.

Are you an alien?

This is the title.

2005-07-25T17:58:00.000-07:00

I smoked hash(sp?) last night for the first time.

1st hit. I coughed my lungs out, followed by my liver and kidneys. 2 seconds later, my throat burst into flame.

2nd hit. I'm gone.

3rd hit. Something doesn't feel right.

30 minutes later, I was on my bed, crying. My heartbeats reached 649 pulse a minute. My feet tingles. My palms sweat. I see a light.

I'm going to die right now.

I passed out.

Hash = nasty little fucker.

Don't do it.

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~

Friday, December twenty third, two thousand five will be a special day. At one ten in the morning, I'll be on a plane.

Destination: home*.

* Assuming the plane is not hijacked by kamikaze bastards.

Note to self...

2005-07-24T16:03:00.000-07:00

Next time when you're high, DO NOT attempt to trim your pubic hair. 'Cause it'll end up looking like this:

Goddamn! I'm such a talented artist. Van Gough will be proud.

A short and unnecessary update.

2005-07-24T13:50:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling great today!

To all of you who cared:

From the heart of my bottom, I thank YOU. You guys = awesome.

Untitled. Again.

2005-07-23T11:59:00.000-07:00

I got drunk and high and stupid last night.

Not drunk enough, as I remember what happened. Not high enough, as I was coherent. But I was definitely stupid enough.

"Hello?"

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Are you drunk?"

"Me? No! I'm just high. And had a bunch of magaritas. Dude, have you ever had kosher sea salt? I don't know if it's the rabbi blessing or what, but man, they taste so fucking goooooooood!!"

"...laughter..."

"I'm serious. What you doing?"

"I was going to make some chicken, but I just realize that it's gonna take so long, like I won't be able to eat until 1 am."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

"So then I just had some left over chinese."

"Why don't you come over here?"

"Nah... I'm going to Dragon later. I told Brian I would go."

"Fuck Dragon. Come over here and you'll have an orgasm."

"...chuckles..."

"Seriously. Orgasm or Dragon?"

"No, I can't. I told him I would go."

"Why are you always like that? I asked you to give me a ride to Richmond and you say you got better things to do. Now I ask you to come over and apparently you have better things to do too!"

"I don't want to take you to Richmond because it's stupid. I don't understand why can't you just do it over the phone?"

"THAT'S BECAUSE I'VE NEVER DONE SOMETHING LIKE THIS! Plus I want to ask some questions. And it's not like it's a couple hundred bucks. It's 1100 bucks, dude."

"Okay, fine. I still don't understand why can't you ask questions over the phone and have them mail you the ticket."

"If you don't want to take me, just say you don't want to take me! Why do you have to chastise me like that?! Making me feel like an idiot."

"I'm not chastising you!"

"Then why can't you just say you don't want to take me?! Just say you can't and I'll back off! Why do you have to go through all this? What, you think I think that the whole world revolves around me and..."

"YES!"

"Oh my God. I can't believe you just said that. I cannot belive you just said that. After all these time. I cannot believe you just said that."

"Look, I really don't need to do this right now. Especially when you're intoxicated."

"What?! Do what?! I'm not doing anything!"

"Snakehead, I'm gonna hang up."

"Fuck yo..."

*click*

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Hello?"

"Dude, you fucking suck."

*click*

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Hello?"

"......."

"Hello?"

"You ever liked me at all?"

"Yeah, I like you. You're fun. You're a fun guy to be around with."

"Like a friend."

"Yeah, just like friends."

"Just friends... nothing more."

"Yeah."

"Then why did you call me and asked me to come over and spent the night with you when you thought you had HIV?"

"......"

"It's because I'm the closest, isn't it? I'm the most convenient one."

"Snakehead, that 2 weeks are the worst 2 weeks of my life and I WILL NOT TALK ABOUT IT ANYMORE!"

"Why didn't you call Howard? You still love him, don't you? You always have."

"...... Howard and I have a special bond."

"So why did you call me and not him?"

"Snakehead, you always bring these conversations up whenever you're intoxicated. And I don't want to talk to you when you're intoxicated. Let's talk about this when you're sober up."

"I don't think I can stomach it when I'm sober!"

"Okay, fair enough....... I called you because you have a high spirit. I needed someone to make me feel a little better. And you have that effect on me."

"I see.... I see."

"Snakehead, I'm gonna hang up now, okay?"

"......"

"Snakehead?"

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna hang up now, K?"

"K."

"Bye."

*click*

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Remind me not to be so "high spirited" next time.

Falling leaves return to roots.

2005-07-21T15:57:00.000-07:00

I have been debating if I should write about this for quite sometime now.

I think I needed to. I don't know if I wanted to.

But I need to know that it's okay. Even though I'm not sure if it is.

It's okay.

Is it?

A couple nights ago, while I was on the phone with my dad, asking him for money, and out of the blue, he told me that he's chasing a woman.

"All of you are growing up. I'm getting older. I need a partner to grow old with me," he said nonchalantly.

This line inevitably take me back to 1998, when it all started. I was 15.

We've always been pretty well off. My dad is a business owner, while my mom is a primary school principal. Ever since I was a little kid, we've always had live-in maid working for us. She does everything except cooking. My mom takes care of that. We love her cooking too much to let other people cook for us. To sum it up, we were all spoilt brats. All 4 of us. We still are.

One fateful night in 1998, my mom crept downstairs, and saw my dad was about to get it on with the maid. Later, when shit finally hits the fan, we found out that 1) he's been doing this for a long long long time, 2) my sister caught him once, but he managed to talk my sister into keeping it to herself and 3) he is a cheap mother fucking bastard who fucks hired help.

Apparently he shits where he eats.

His family trusted him, and that mother fucking son of a bitch used us. Not just once, or twice, or thrice. Try 9 years. No wonder most of the maids won't last long. He always told us he thought they were incompetent, stupid, have bad body odor or something along that line. He always sent them back to the agency, and get another one.

Never judge a book by it's cover. Not even your own father.

The person that had it the hardest was my mother. She trusted him 100%. In a way, she's stupid for doing that. There's one time, a maid asked my mom if she can lock her bedroom door at night. She asked her why. The maid said it's because my father has been molesting her. My mom brushed it off like it was the most absurd accusation she's ever heard. Not long later, said maid was being sent back because she was "incompetent".

There's another time, another maid was returned to the agency due to her "lack of IQ and common senses". Right before she left, she told me mom to keep an eye on her husband, as he is not who she thinks he is. And of course, my mom brushed it off again. That's how much she trusted him, her husband, the man who gave her a black eye twice when they were newlyweds; the man who have her running back to her parents when they were newlyweds; the man who married her not because he loves her, but because his parents were nagging him to get married.

And yet, she still gave him all of her.

My parents would always go to the agency together. And right there, my dad would begin his weeding process. They are always too "ugly". Looking back, we should've known. Who chooses a maid based on her looks? At the agency, he would touch the prospective maids extremely improperly, while my mother looked on. She never said anything. She never complained about it. To her, he was just choosing a maid his very own way. No harm done. Seeing him touches their thighs was a routine for her.

My point up to here is, me, my mother, my sister, my brother and my younger sister, all 5 of us trusted this man completely.

That would probably be the biggest mistake I've ever made. It was certainly the biggest mistake my mother has ever made.

My father is also very manipulative, one of the reasons why he is a successful business owner. He is one of those people who can make themselves believe in lies they concocted. To this day, he still thinks he's innocent. That he didn't do anything wrong. To this day, whenever someone asks, "where's your wife?", he would either say "she's dead," or "she ran off with another man."

I don't quite remember what happened that night when my mom caught her husband cheating on her. What I did remember was, the next day, said maid was still in our house. My dad would not get rid of her, as he "didn't do anything wrong."

That night, my parents fought.

No, I take that back.

That night, my dad hit my mom.

With a machete.

And he threatened to kill her.

And he spat on her.

And he kicked her when she was on the floor.

I was so scared. So terrified that it didn't even cross my mind I should've called the police. So terrified that I just lay there. So terrified that I did...... nothing.

The next day, my mom made a police report. My dad went to the jail.

"I should've killed her and then just go to prison for 30 years," he told my sister.

He only spent a night there. He has money. He knows people.

This is a battle my mom will never win. She knows it.

My mother moved out. My siblings and I stayed with my father because a school principal doesn't make shit there. It would be impossible to support the 4 of us financially. So we stayed, like cowards.

That was 7 years ago.

Over the years, we have all moved on.

They say time erase everything, I say time dilute everything. My mother and I have gotten so much closer. One thing for sure, I love my mother more than I ever have. And for the first time in our lives, we started telling each other that.

They say time erase everything, I say time dilute everything. My hatred for my father has slowly diminished over time. One thing for sure, I no longer love or trust or respect the man I call Papa.

I remember the time I hated him so much I wanted to move out of the house and cut every single ties I had with him. I was 15.

I remember the time I hated him so much I didn't ask him for any pocket money for school for a year. I was 16.

I remember the time I hated him so much I secretly planned my revenge. I would grow up, he would grow old, and I would throw him into some mediocre retirement home and never see him again for the rest of my life. I was 16.

I remember the time I hated him so much I swore to myself that I will never ever grow up to be like him. I was 17.

I remember the time I hated him so much I can't wait to get away from home, from everybody, from everything. I was 19.

And I did.

I'm nothing like him.

I'm 9000 miles away from home. Been gone for exactly 2 1/2 years. And I never looked back. The u-turn is still no where in sight.

Over the years, my mother tried to reconcile with him. But he refused. He won't even talk to her. To him, she is the wicked witch who made him spent a night in jail. To him, she is the evil woman who walked in on him. To him, she is the home wrecker. To him, she is wrong and he is right. To him, he is always right. Always.

"Okay now since I have you on the phone, I might as well tell you this. I'm chasing another woman. She's nice. She's from China. I've seen her only twice. So I don't know if I'll be successful or not. What do you think?"

"Err......"

"All of you are growing up. I'm getting older. I need a partner to grow old with me. She will be my life partner for the rest of my life. What do you think? You approve? No?"

"No. No. Err... It's good. Uhh... if you want to, go for it."

"If she accepts my offer and everything goes smoothly, I might even bring her to your graduation. I have to go to your graduation, don't I?"

"Yeah of course. Uhh... Sure. Yeah, bring her. It's good."

Truth is, I've already known that he is chasing another woman. My sister told me that. Even my mother told me that. The thing that caught me off guard was the fact that he's telling me this. We never tell each other stuff like this. Our relationship is as formal as me and the produce guy at the grocery store. We don't chat. We've never chatted.

But, that was fine. It's his life. He can do whatever he wants.

I called my sister right after that. She said she heard it. She asked me why am I so surprised.

I didn't tell her I wasn't surprised.

I didn't tell her I felt like I betrayed my mother for encouraging him in his endeavour.

I didn't tell her I felt like I betrayed my mother for not disapproving his actions.

I didn't tell her I felt like I betrayed my mother for allowing him to bring his new mistress to my graduation.

Most of all, I didn't tell her I failed my mother.

Because she wouldn't want me to encourage him. Or approving his actions. Or allowing him to bring an outsider to my graduation.

Something deep inside me tells me that she would want me to speak up for her. The same feelings tell me that she would want me to stand by her, be the son she can count on.

But I didn't.

I didn't.

Ma,

I'm sorry.

Can you ever forgive me?

Mark Twain, great legs and burning fork.

2005-07-20T15:38:00.000-07:00

I'm at work at the GLBT center, and I'm reading the latest issue of The Advocate. Yupe, that's all I do here. That, and looking all pretty when someone walks in. So far, 2 compliments and counting.

So I'm reading The Advocate, and I came across this line by Mark Twain in an article:

The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.

That man obviously has not traveled much. I mean, he wouldn't have said that if he's ever been to New York or Colorado or a giant freezer.

I wonder why is he so famous?

This is my 2nd time working at the center. Man, was I a sheltered little kid.

"Hi, I'm Snakehead. I'll be a shadow today at 1pm," I said as I walked in.

"You're definitely not shadowing me. I'm leaving in 5 minutes," the guy sitting at the table said.

"Oh, so you're not William?"

"No. I'm Sean. Will should be here any minute now."

Boss walks in.

"Hey Snakehead, how's it going?"

"Good, thanks," I flashed him a smile.

"Sean, you know who's coming in after Will?" Boss asked.

"Let me see here... It's John. Oh John!"

"Really? John? Wow. Haven't seen him in a while."

"Me too. He has great legs."

"Oh yes he does."

Both of them smile at each other knowingly.

"John used to work here alot," Sean explains to a puzzled looking me. "He's a straight guy, tall, muscular, has a goatee. Married and all. And he would come in here in short skirts and stockings and heels. His legs look great."

I opened and closed my mouth but no words came out.

"Yeah," Boss chimed in. "He wears these really tiny little skirts and usually hides his legs under the desk, and when he gets up, people usually go (step back, clutch chest, gasp) wow."

"And he's married?" I asked just to make sure.

"Yeah," Sean answered. "And he takes the bus and the subway to get here too, dressing like that."

"You should meet him later," Boss said.

"Oh I will. Definitely."

I wonder if his wife knows about this.

In other news, I burnt my lips last night the stupidest way ever. I used a fork to stir the spaghatti meatball sauce I was making, and I got dumb and stick the fork into my mouth right after I took it out of the pot because I couldn't wait to drop the fork and yell "fuck" while my lips are on fire.

And all I wanted was just a taste to see if it needs more red wine.

HaloScan, from the bottom of my heart, I just want to say: FUCK YOU!

2005-07-19T14:48:00.000-07:00

Act I

Time: 12.45 pm
Place: In line at a sandwich place

Boy #1: "Is this the line?"

Me: "Yeah."

Boy #1: "Damn, it's long."

Girl #1: "I know. But it goes through pretty quickly though."

Boy #2: "What do they have here?"

Girl #1: "All kinds of stuff."

Boy #3: "What's that guy having? It looks good."

Girl #1: "Oh that... That's roast beef."

Boy #2: "What's that? Sprouts?"

Girl #1: "Yeah. Alfafa sprouts. They put that in everything."

Boy #1: "I like Alfa alfa sprouts."

They laughed. I smiled.

Girl #1: "It's Alfafa sprouts, not alfa alfa sprouts."

Boy #1: "I know! Alfa alfa sprouts."

Girl #1: "Al-fa-fa."

Boy #1: "Alfa-alfa... alfaf... alfa al... alfa... Ah fuck it."

They laughed. I laughed out loud this time. I can't help it anymore.

Act II

Time: 1.06 pm
Place: Standing right next to my bike

Homeless guy #1: "Wow. That's a nice bike. 18 speeds. Nice looking. What is it, metal or alloy?"

Me: "Piece of shit."

We both laughed, and went our separate ways.

Act III

Time: 1.10 pm
Place: At the post office

Counter lady #1: "95."

I walked up to the counter.

Me: "That's me. Hi."

I handed her the package.

Counter lady #1: "How fast do you need this package to get there?"

Me: "Oh it doesn't matter. Can I go first class?"

Counter lady #1: "Anything hazardous, flammable, fragile....."

Me: "No, no, no, no, no....."

Counter lady #1: "Okay that would be $1.52 please."

I handed her my credit card.

Counter lady #1: "Credit?"

Me: "Yeah."

She gave me the receipt.

Counter lady #1: "Sign here please."

Me: "Sure."

Counter lady #1: "All righty. Here's your receipt. Have a nice day."

Me: "You too."

I turned around and left.

Counter lady #1: "Honey you gotta give me that package. We can't mail it if you take it home with you."

Me: "Oh.. Hahaha... Sorry."

Everybody looked on as I shamefully walked back to the counter. I heard someone snickered. Bastard.

------------------------------------------

My roommate situation is a mess right now. I don't know what I got myself into. On top of that, HaloScan is driving me crazy, and there's like a million different strings hanging mid air waiting for me to tie them down.

Goddamn it!

I'm frustrated, anxious and surprisingly NO LONGER HORNY. Fuck.

And I'm going to start bitching about not having a car very very soon.

Is it wrong?

2005-07-18T18:34:00.000-07:00

Is it wrong that I'm so attracted to this picture?

Is it wrong that I want to rip her shirt right off and start slapping those titties left and right?

Is it?

Is it?

It is, isn't it?

Watch out, he's dirty.

2005-07-18T14:22:00.000-07:00

There's something I think I should clarify.

1. I've never jerked off 20 times in a row. I don't know anybody who has jerked off 20 times in a row. That is insane. I can only do it 1 time, and I gotta take a break before going again. My personal record was 10 times in 2.5 hours. It was when I was studying for the most boring class in the world. Yes, I get horny whenever I study. I get horny sitting in boring lectures too. This morning we had a guest lecturer, and my blood left my brain for my junk 4 times in an hour. Yeah, that's how boring it was.

2. I've never shot bubbles. Or blow bubbles. Or ejaculate bubbles. But I do know somebody who has. In high school, there's this weird boy, let's call him Cygnet. He tells people the weirdest things. One time, Cygnet told everybody that he jerked off 5 times in a row, and he ejaculated bubbles the 5th times. Speaking of weird boys, there's another weird boy, let's call him Weirdo. Weirdo claims that he can ejaculate without touching his dick. He said the way he do it, he just sits on the toilet, and concentrate really really hard on his dick, and eventually he'll cum. This is actually feasible if you can focus that hard. Not that I've done it myself, but people say that's how you get wet dreams. Go try it, and let me know if you succeed.

I'm bored, grumpy, tired, horny, hungry and anxious right now.

Work sucks. School sucks.

Oh and I saw Mark at the pool last Saturday. But we didn't have sex.

Oh and does anybody watch Def Poetry on HBO? It's mindblowing. The talents are phenomenal. Sometimes famous people like Alicia Keys, Lauren Hill and Dave Chapelle would "guest star", but they're always never as good as the non famous people. I watched a ton of them over the weekend while I was getting high. Man, some of them make me want to cry.

Oh and I went to a lake with my roommate yesterday. It was fun. But I have a little confession to make:

I have not showered since I got home from the lake yesterday.

And I peed and swam in the lake.

I am seeing circles... They are moving... Or are they?

2005-07-15T21:34:00.000-07:00

Guess where I'm at right now.

You'll never figure out. So why don't you just give up.

Fine. I can wait. I have all the time in the world. You, on the other hand, don't. Because my nipples are harder than yours. Yes, mine are really really tough. I cut glass with it. But of course I gotta twist it a little bit first before the real cutting began.

Forgive me if I sound delirious. That's because I have never been so tired in my entire life. Maybe I have, like that time I jerked off 20 times back to back. At the end, all that came out during orgasm was just bubbles. Not the kind that pops, but the kind that stick to the penis head.

I just realized that I like to write about penises a lot. And titties too. I love penises and titties. I hate pussies because they smell like fish.

Anyway, I'm at the front desk of the local GLBT center right now as I'm typing this on a 20 year old computer that still works surprisingly well. Remember that one night when I talked about volunteering here? Well, I did. And I'm so very proud of myself. Because this is probably the first thing that I said I'm gonna do, and actually do it. You may praise me now in my comment box. Go ahead, don't be shy. I'll wait for you. Be as generous as you want. Don't forget to include things like "You're so fucking hot I want to do you right now" or "God, your dick is HUGE" or "Will you let me blow you?"

All done? Did you wash your hand and zip up your pants?

Good.

However, I am totally blank right now. The other guy that works here, Frank, just showed me everything I need to know, and I absorbed nothing. Why am I so tired? Let me give you a tour of my schedule today.

12.05 am - Went to sleep with the lights on because I have to wake up and study in a couple of hours.
2.45 am - Woke up with a start for no reason. I always get like this whenever I sleep with the lights on.
3.00 am - Alarm went off for the 1st time.
3.05 am - Got up. Went to the computer. Checked email. Checked my comments. Ended up chatting with Martin for a little bit.
4.00 am - He ended up knocking some sense into me. I mean, it's fucking summer, for Christ sake! What if I don't graduate with honors? Will I die? Will my balls disappear? NO! So I went back to sleep. Martin, you rock.
5.30 am - Alarm went off for the 2nd time.
6.15 am - Alarm went off for the 3rd time. Woke up and realized that I have exactly 2 hours 15 minutes before midterm and I have about 2 weeks worth of reading to do. Panic mode: ON.
7.40 am - Drop the kids off at the pool while trying to figure out what the hell is glycolysis.
8.30 am - Got to class. Sat down, and mentally prepared myself not to scream when I got the midterm.
8.50 am - Still trying to look for a problem I know how to do.
10.30 am - Turn in a mostly blank test.
11.00 am - Got to lab. Start doing research.
1.00 pm - Hungry. But no time to eat.
2.00 pm - Famished.
3.00 pm - Boss blaming me for something I didn't do. The culprit is the computer. Not me. But I'm too hungry to talk.
3.05 pm - Got to the optometry clinic. I'm gonna be a guinea pig for the next 3 weeks, wearing different contact lenses every week. What's the purpose of the study? Who cares? I'm all for the money.
3.40 pm - Went home. Call 45,667 people about the room for rent.
4.10 pm - A guy is supposed to come look at the place at 4. He's late.
4.20 pm - He showed up with an entourage. Ridi-fucking-culous.
4.40 pm - Went to the pool.
5.45 pm - Dead tired from the workout.
6.10 pm - Got home and showered.
6.25 pm - Eat dinner.
7.02 pm - Got to the GLBT center a little late for the first day of work. Great.
9.31 pm - Sitting here typing this.
10.00 pm - Will go home, smoke a bowl, and pass out.

And I didn't even have time to jerk off today.

I've never been to me by Charlene is the best song ever. And I'm not kidding.

2005-07-14T20:43:00.000-07:00

I have a midterm tomorrow on molecular biology and I have absolutely no idea what's going on in that class because I'm a pothead. There, I said it. I'm a pothead.

Me: "Hi everybody, my name is Snakehead, and I'm a pothead."

Everybody: "Hi Snakehead."

I was going for an AA meeting scenario. Did you catch that? No? Well, You suck.

Anyway, I'm completely fucked. I was looking at the practice midterm, and the only time I moved my pencil was to write today's date. That's all. I kid you not. I kept flipping through the pages, hoping to see some familiar faces, but no. Not even one. In the end, it just got so depressing that I had to go swimming to ease my pain. Did I mention that my butterfly has gotten better? I'm so fucking proud of myself. God, my future is so fucking bright I can't even see it without sunglasses.

People, let me tell you something. If you ever have to take a molecular biology class, please do yourself a favor by either switching your major or just smoke pot all day like me. Because that class is retarded. And stupid. And idiotic. And oh so fucking dry. I mean, who takes that class anyway? Doctors? Well, doctors are stupid then.

I am not a doctor, nor will I ever be. I do, however, have a stethoscope that I use on my patients when they're lying on my bed. I can tell you right now that no matter how hard you try, testicles just don't make any sound at all.

Can you tell that I'm grumpy? You wanna know why? It's because I'm horny. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Right after I wake up. Right before I brush my teeth. Right when I fart . Right now as I'm typing this. It's like I'm in heat or something. Jerking off just don't cut it anymore. I need to fuck. I NEED TO FUCK!!!!!!!

So what's stopping me? My moral values. Yes, contrary to what you guys think of me, I do have moral values. And one of them is not to be a slut. By slut I mean a person who sleeps with 7 different people a week, NOT a person who sleeps with the same person 7 times a week. Plus I'm carless. And there is no gay bar within walking or biking distance.

I hate this shitty town.

Anyone offering?

Hi.

2005-07-13T13:47:00.000-07:00

The following message is specifically directed to those people who are either moving to Berkeley or thinking about moving to Berkeley:

FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOU!! Fuck your balloon size pussy and your microscopic dick! You can go fuck yourselves. All of you. Every single one you is fucktards.

And while we're at that, fuck your mother, fuck your sister, and if you have one, fuck your daughter as well.

Oh and your grandmother's pussy stinks like a mother fucking son of a bitch. I didn't smell it. What's-his-name told me that.

*beep*

End of message.

Tidbits of the day.

2005-07-12T17:39:00.000-07:00

On the phone with my mom.

Mom: "So are you eating well?"

Me: "Yeah."

Mom: "You gotta eat, you know? Don't starve yourself just to save money. Your dad has tonnes of those."

Me: "Yeah, I know. I learned how to make Ma Po Tofu the other day."

Mom: "Really?"

Me: "Yeah. And I also make the best fried chicken ever."

Mom: "Really? So you cook just for yourself?"

Me: "No. Me and my roommates take turns cooking."

Mom: "Oh... But uhh, I thought they don't eat rice?"

Me: "What?! Of course they do."

Mom: "I thought they eat only bread and potatoes."

Me: "Ma, you're crazy."

I love that woman.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

When I got home an hour ago, I saw a piece of paper stuck to my roommate's door. It says
I stole 2 more eggs from you. And I will never give them back.
E.V.E.R!!!

Sincerely,
Egg stealer

I love my roommates.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

My other roommate wanted to rent this video called Tommy, and since he doesn't know the number, I called to check for availability.

"Hi, welcome to XXX Video. How can I help you today?"

"Yeah, hi. Do you have Tommy?"

"Yes, we do. But you know it sucks, right?"

"What?! Ahahaha.... hahahaha.... hahahahahaha......... Hahahahahaha... *cough cough*"

I laughed so hard I choked on my Altoids. My roommate talked to the lady for the rest of the conversation.

I love funny people.

Look out! Hot gay sex coming up. Leave if you're (insert whatever you call yourself here).

2005-07-10T17:51:00.000-07:00

I feel kinda stupid that I have to put up a warning sign (imagine Coldplay's Warning Sign playing softly in the background), but in my defense, I don't want to offend my precious readers. All 5 of you. I mean, if there's one thing this bigoted society has taught me, it's this:

Girl + girl + actions = erection
Boy + boy + actions = erectile dysfunction.

Speaking of equations, someone once told me these:

Smart man + smart woman = romance
Smart man + dumb woman = affair
Dumb man + smart woman = marriage
Dumb man + dumb woman = pregnancy

So true. So so true.

All right, on with the story.

I picked up a guy from the pool yesterday. For the first time. I think it was the weed. Man, I heart weed. So much.

So, I was doing laps. After my usual 10 laps routine, I stopped and I looked up. Something on the bleachers caught my eyes. Man, all I can say was, salt and pepper has never been sexier. Not even the real salt and pepper can top that. Not that I think the real salt and pepper is sexy, mind you. He looks exactly like John Slattery, with more pepper and less salt. If I have to describe him in two words, it'll be: fucking hot.

Before I go any further, I need to tell you that I'm still working on my butterfly stroke. I just learned it all by myself by observation. Hence it doesn't look that good. In fact, it looks quite retarded. John Slattery lookalike on the other hand, is a professional amateur swimmer.

So, after giving him the 'look', I went back to swimming. 3 laps later, I looked up, and he's gone.

"Damn it!"

Turns out, he has gotten back into the water. I found him 2 lanes down. I continued giving him the look, and I caught him going under water checking me out as I swam away. Bingo!

20 minutes later, I'm done. I got out of the pool, he followed. I took a quick shower, he did too. Man he was H-A-W-T! Did I mention that I had to take a cold shower just to keep my little brother from waking up?

Cut to me leaving the gym. I was walking so slow, people were giving me weird looks. Finally, John Slattery lookalike caught up with me.

Him: "Hey, how are you doing?"

Me: "Good."

More small talks followed.

Him: "Where you going now?"

Me: "I'm going home. What about you?"

Him: "Me too. I live on the north side, about 15 minutes walk away. You wanna come over?"

Me: "Sure. Sounds good."

Turns out, that was the furthest (farthest?) 15 minutes walk I've ever had in my entire life. By the time we got to his place, I'm pretty sure we're already in China. He, on the other hand, turns out to be an interesting guy. We were talking like we've known each other for a while.

"You want anything to drink?"

"Uhh, yeah sure. Water would be good."

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

"Your backpack looks heavy. Why don't you leave it on the couch?"

"Sure." I walked over and dropped my backpack, which has only my speedo and goggles in it. "Nice place."

"Thanks. Let me show you around."

"Okay."

A cat appeared out of nowhere. Another one followed shortly.

"These are my cats. Kitty and kitty."

"What?" I burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked with a smile. "Come here."

I went to him. We embraced. Our lips met, very gently.

"Let's go to the bedroom."

"Okay."

His bedroom has a ladder that goes up to a loft, where the bed is. It looks kinda weird. I had a feeling that I was climbing up to a tree house as I was going up the ladder.

"This is different," I said as I got to the top.

"Yeah. It's like my private hideaway from the world."

"You read Wally Lamb? That's my favorite author!" I said as I picked up a copy of She's Come Undone on the night stand.

"Come here," he said right before nibbling my neck. It feels good.

"Mmmmm..." was all I can say.

I turned around. Our lips met again, this time more vigorously. But for a man his age, he is a pretty bad kisser. The tongue actions were minimal.

He then grabbed my entire body and toss it onto his bed. Now he's on top of me.

"How much do you weigh? Like 20 lbs?"

"Yeah right! You weigh 20 lbs. I weigh 200 lbs." I said as he continued nibbling my neck. He's a nibbler.

"Uh huh," he said when he came up for air. "You're so skinny it's like you have to hold on to something when the wind blows."

I slapped his ass.

"And you have the worse butterfly I've ever seen."

"What?!" I believe I turned bright red. I'm embarrassed to the max.

"You do. I even told my friend that," he said as he was about to start nibbling again.

"Hey! Just so you know, I taught myself that. And it's hard when you can't see what you're doing." Defense mode: ON.

He laughed. "Can't you take a little critism, huh?" He slapped my ass. "At least you're persistent, which is good."

"You suck."

He laughed.

I sneezed.

He laughed even harder.

I rolled over and pinned him down. His laughs slowly subsided. I took my shirt off, then his.

"You know, you look so hot in that red speedo," he whispered.

"Oh yeah?" I'm teasing him, trailing my tongue down his body. I got to his pelvis. I took his pants off. He was hard as a rock. Well, so was I.

If this is a movie, this will be the part where the camera zooms out and everything turns blurry.

You know that saying "older guys have been around the block, and they know how to use their cocks"? I'm here to tell you it's true. He gives one of the best head I've ever had, and he found my g-spot right away.

Later, when we're both sweaty and there's cum stains everywhere...

"You wanna take a quick shower?" he asked.

"Sure." I love taking shower together after sex. There's something about it that I just can't explain. It's so intimate.

Later, when he was taking me back to the gym to get my bike, he was telling me why my butterfly stroke looks retarded, and what's the right way to do it.

A casual afternoon hook up: great
A swimming lesson: great
A casual afternoon hook up AND a swimming lesson: PRICELESS.

He pulled over at the gym. Right before I got out...

"By the way, I'm Snakehead."

"Mark."

"Cool. I'll see you around, Mark."

"Yeah, see you around."

I have a feeling that I will see him around.

Want a title? Sorry, you're not getting one today.

2005-07-09T19:07:00.000-07:00

I was just wondering if all Bostoners are like this.

Another potential roommate came knocking on the door at 2pm.

"Hi. Sam?"

"No, it's Ben."

"Oh sorry, Ben. Come on in." Honest mistakes. I've shown the bedrooms, the kitchen, the living room, the bathrooms, the laundry room and the backyard 3500 times. I can't remember names anymore.

Once we're inside, I hit 'play'.

"Let me show you the room and..." I was interrupted before I can finish.

"Do you have the backyard?" He asked. He interrupted to ask if there is a backyard.

"Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

"Uhh... sure. This way." I led. He followed. When we're outside, he surveyed the backyard very thoroughly. Too thoroughly for my liking.

The weather is awesome. He, on the other hand, is not so. His extreme interests in the backyard have me believed that he has a body he needed to bury.

We came back into the house. I showed him the room. He looked at it for 5 seconds and said, "I'll take it."

"What?" I was incredulous. We haven't even gone over the details yet.

"I'll take it. It's close to what I'm looking for, and I don't want other people take it before I do."

It is at this point that I decided he's not going to "take it", and that I'm going to write about him. We talked a little more, well, more like I asked questions and he answered, and I found out that he's from Boston, going to graduate school, majoring in physics. I know physicists are weird. Are Bostoners weird too?

When he left, he didn't even say bye. He just walked out the door and never looked back.

This must be that time of the year when the weirdos and the psychos come out of hibernation. They need to go back to sleep. There are too many of them roaming around it's unhealthy. I've heard that they can cause allergy, high blood pressure and liver diseases, not to mention tourette and arthritis.

Next on the agenda, we have a story featuring yours truly, the horniest bastard ever, and his ex-not-a-fuckbuddy-not-yet-a-boyfriend, hereonafter will be known as Hahaha. In case you missed it, Hahaha sorta broke my heart a little. We started out as fuckbuddy, then I started falling for him, but he's still falling for his ex, yadda yadda yadda. In the end the sun came out and the rain starts pouring and everyone lives happily every after either by kissing in front of a window, or kissing in front of a spotlight, or kissing in a pumpkin car or kissing on a balcony.

Sort of.

So last night, I was at the subway. It's 15 minutes walk to my house. It was late. I was too lazy to walk. So I called Hahaha and surprisingly he agreed to give me a ride home. We got to my place, I invited him up. He said yes. I was horny. He looks good. Go figure.

We're in my room. I was lying on my bed. He was eating a bowl of ice cream. One thing led to another, heavy making out ensued.

Right about when things started to get real hot,

*Knock knock*

"Hang on a minute," I said as I was scrambling to untangle myself from him in a sea of comforters and pillows. It wasn't easy.

"What's up?" I asked when I got to the door, panting.

"Oh uh... I was wondering if you mind getting us a bottle of vodka and kahlua? We're making white russians," my roommate said, looking a little embarrassed. Truth is, his timing couldn't be better. If there's one place I shouldn't go, it's that place I was going with Hahaha.

"Umm, sure. No problem." I am the supporter of under age drinking.

"I'll take you," Hahaha said as he was putting his shoes back.

Later...

"You wanna come up?" I asked him for the 2nd time that night.

"No, I'm just gonna go home. Kinda tired. Besides, looks like you're gonna have a good time anyway," he said, eyeing the bottles of liquor I was holding.

"All right, I'll see you later then."

"Bye."

I then proceed to get stinking drunk with my roommates. Awesome.

Just a quick note before I let you go: getting high is awesome. Swimming while high is just pure genius. I'm telling you, swimming any other ways is just stupid. If there's one thing you should do before you die, this has got to be it.

Introducing Gorilla McPsycho.

2005-07-08T00:37:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. God.

Can someone please stop pounding my head? I'm willing to give 1000 blow jobs to the person who can stop the pounding. I'm serious. I mean, who gets hangover at the same night? Goddamn it! I knew I shouldn't start drinking that early.

HOWEVER, this post is not about me. It's about Gorilla McPsycho.

A potential roommate, let's call him Gorilla McPsycho, is supposed to come check the place out at 3.45 pm yesterday.

It's 3.50 pm.

*Knock, knock*

I opened the door.

"Hi, are you The Snakehead?"

"Yeah. Gorilla McPsycho? Come on in."

"Yes. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," I said. We shook hand. "How's it going?"

"Oh I just typed the address into maps dot Google, and they give me a direction here" was his answer to my "how's it going".

I stepped aside, let him in, and closed the door. It was really nice out, sunny and breezy.

"All right, let me give you the grand tour of the house," I said. "You're interested in the cheaper room, right?"

"Yes."

"All right. That's my room," I said as we passed by my room, which I think is the nicest room in the house. "This room is taken as well," I pointed at the biggest bedroom, which belongs to the roommate who'll also be staying for another year. "He's in Fiji right now. For 2 weeks! Lucky bastard."

"I smell weed. Does he smoke marijuana?" He frowned.

"Yes. Actually we all do. Occasionally." I'm starting to not like him. "Here's the room you're looking for. $645 a month, utilities included except cable TV and internet, which comes to about $25 a month."

He entered the room without saying anything, and looked left and right. He walked towards the window, and lifted the curtain. All he can see was our backyard. He pulled the curtain back, and stepped away from the window. He then proceed to stare at the heater on the floor.

What the hell?

2 minutes of dead silence later, he reached for the door. He closed it halfway, then re-open it. Closed it halfway, then re-open it. It's like he's fanning himself. With that door.

Finally, he stopped. "Here, let me show you the rest of the house," I said as soon as he stopped. "This is the kitchen/dining room. We have a dishwasher...."

He walked passed me before I can finish what I wanted to say. He walked over to the stove, bent down, and open the oven. He closed it, opened it, and closed it again. He then walked over to the freezer and did the same thing. It was at this point that I decided I was going to write about him.

"Here, let me show you the living room. And this is the bathroom," I talked as fast as I could. I wanted him out of my house as fast as possible. "That one over there is just the toilet. And this one right here, is a laundry room. And this is the backyard." Again, the awesome weather greeted me as soon as I opened the door.

Apparently Mr. McPsycho is not very interested in the backyard. Instead, he disappeared into the bathroom as soon as we walked back into the house. I sat on the couch waiting for him to resurface.

"You have any questions for me?" I asked when he got out, hoping he would say no. Instead, he pulled a notepad out from his back pocket, and parked himself on the couch opposite me.

"What are the neighbors like?" was his first question.

"They're pretty cool. Although I don't really know them."

"What's the general atmosphere around the house like?"

"Chill."

"Can you elaborate more?"

"No."

"How long have you been living here?"

"A year."

"How long has the other roommates been living here?"

"A year."

"Name one thing you like most about the place."

"It's awesome."

"Name one thing you like least about the place."

"None."

"Say if something broke, like the heater's not working. Who's responsible for that?"

"The landlord."

"What time do people usually go to bed?"

"It depends."

"On.....?"

"On whether it's weekdays or weekends."

"Can you give me an estimate?"

"Between midnight and 1 in the morning."

"Will you be the one deciding who's gonna move in?"

"Yes," I said dryly. And you're never going to.

"Name the last three movies you saw."

"I don't see how you need to know that."

"This is to see how compatible we are as roommates."

Nobody is compatible with psychos like you. "Fine. Apollo 13, War of the Worlds, Batman Begins." I'm getting frustrated. I'm feeling like I'm being interrogated. And I. Don't. Like. It.

"Name the last three albums you bought."

"I don't buy albums."

"Okay. You have any questions for me?"

Yeah, when can you get the hell out of my house? "No."

"All right then. I have 3 more places to look at tomorrow and Saturday. I'll send you an email when I make up my mind." He got up from that couch, ready to leave.

"Sounds good." I walked him to the door.

"Take care," he said.

"You too."

We shook hands one last time.

I closed the door.

10 minutes later, my roommate came home. I told him about Gorilla McPsycho.

We both agreed that he is psycho.

What time is it?

2005-07-07T19:05:00.000-07:00

It's 7.07 pm, and I'm drunkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunglasses.

2005-07-07T15:29:00.000-07:00

We have a picture of him somewhere, a brokenhearted five-year-old, slumped on a bench at Disney World, eyes fighting back tears, lips so tense you can almost see them quivering, his felt Mickey Mouse ears cocked to one side.

Or maybe we don't have a picture, except in our minds. And yet it's the same image my husband and I share: A sunny day, white light glinting off the windows on Main Street, reflecting off dozens of chrome carriages with chrome wheels, light and heat shimmering everywhere and our two children, clamoring for sunglasses, "Please, Mommy? Please, Daddy? Pleeeze!"

We ducked into a shop and Rob picked out Donald Duck glasses, blue and white plastic things that slid down his nose and made him look far more like Scrooge McDuck than Donald Duck. But we didn't tell him this. He loved those glasses. Lauren, three and already into fashion, chose pink Minnie Mouse glasses because she was dressed in pink that day.

They wore them out of the dark store into the day, up Main Street, through the castle and into Fantasyland. During "Peter Pan's flight" they took them off and clutched them in their hands, and they did the same in "Pirates of the Caribbean." On "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride" they had them on, I know, because we have a picture of them smiling and waving.

Somehow, somewhere, after that, maybe when he was getting off that ride, maybe when he stopped to tie his sneaker or fix his Mickey ears, or maybe when we were having lunch, the Donald Duck glasses disappeared. And Robbie, who was five and loved those glasses, cried.

"If you had loved them you would have taken better care of them," is what we said to him. Or something like that. But we were young and new at this parenting thing, and weren't we supposed to teach him to take care of what was his? Wasn't it our duty to make sure that he knew that money didn't grow on trees?

What did those sunglasses cost? A dollar? Two dollars? What harm would it have done to wipe his tears and say, "Come on, we'll get you another pair. I know you didn't mean to lose them." Would he have grown up to be a bad person? Would he have been corrupted in some unforeseeable way?

Lauren said, "You can have mine, Robbie." But he didn't want hers. They were pink and for girls. And his were blue and for boys. And they were gone, and he had loved them and he was miserable.

If I had it to do over, I'd have marched back down Main Street and bought a brand-new pair of Donald Duck glasses and pretended that I found them on the ground. I would have yelled, "Hey, look what I have!" And he would have leaped up and come running and laughed and thrown his arms around me and put on those glasses and this would be the memory of that day.

You live and you learn.

A few months ago we were in Orlando, not exactly at the scene of the crime, but close enough. Our son, long an adult, was there on business and we flew down to meet him, and in the flurry of rental cars and restaurants and going here and there, guess what? He lost his sunglasses.

We didn't scold him, didn't even think about saying, if you really liked them you would have taken better care of them, because people lose things all the time. Instead we did what most adults do for other adults. We helped him figure out where he could have lost them and – what do you know – he found them in a meeting room he'd been in the day before.

He was grinning when he walked to the car, his steps light and quick, his sunglasses hiding his eyes, nothing of the five-year-old left in him to see.

Except I saw.

He was my first child, and the first has it the hardest, because you're new at this and you go by the book and you don't want to mess up and be too soft, but you mess up anyway, because what do you know?

I know that as parents we have an obligation to teach our children. But I also know that everything doesn't have to be a lesson. That sometimes, lost sunglasses are just what they are: lost sunglasses and nothing more.

As you might have figured out, I did not write that story. A woman named Beverly Beckham did. There's no way in a million years would I be able to write something so elegant.

Today is a solemn day. I decided not to write garbage for a day, as a tiny tiny tribute to the people of London.

TGIW. Yes, I said Wednesday, because Wednesday is awesome.

2005-07-06T15:44:00.000-07:00

Today cannot get any better.

I rode a steam train. In my jammies. With 50 other 5 year olds.

No, really.

Let me start from the beginning.

I took my car to a junk yard. It had to be euthanized. I mean, there's no way in hell, and I mean no way in hell that I'm gonna pay $2300 to fix a car that's worth only $700, tops. The best part about this? I get a $1000 in return for a piece of crap! Woo hoo!! I'm rich, bithces! I'm seeing male strippers with a bunch of body shots, iPod and a pair of Gucci loafers in the near future. Suckass, bitches!!!!

So, ladies and gentlemen, I am officially carless. Now all I need is dreadlocks, not showering for 30 days, smoke pot and I'm all set to become a full fledge hippy. Oh wait, I'm already 1/3 hippy! Ha!

Let's see how long I'll last before I start bitching about not having a car. Today is Day 1.

So, after everything is said and done and I'm $1000 richer, my roommate gave me a ride home. We were almost home when he suddenly asked if I have ever been to the National Park not too far from our house. I haven't. So we went home.

Ahahahahahhahahahahaha.......

Is that funny? For some reason I think it's super funny. Like water-squirting-out-of-my-nose and laughing-so-hard-a-little-pee-came-out funny. Like LOL and LMAO and ROFL all-rolled-into-one-big-AFLMORAFMR funny. My sense of humor is unparalleled, isn't it?

So we drove up the hill. First stop, taking in the view. The view was gorgeous. The weather was perfect. The breeze was awesome. My jammies looks great. My hair is as crazy as a crazy bastard who just got electrocuted. Everything was a perfect 9.9. Second stop, the lake. It's a lake, all right. What with all the kids screaming and the water splashing. I don't know how they can play in a pool of garbage water. Yeah, that's how bad it smells. And then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, without any warning...

A turtle came up to the surface to breathe. 3 seconds later, he disappeared back into the water. Between the kids and the foul smelling water, this 3 seconds seems... so tranquil and so beautiful. I'm a city kid. This is the first time I see a turtle comes up for air. In real life.

Next stop, the steam train ride. There was a huge yellow bus at the parking lot when we pull up. There was 50, I counted, 50 very disiplined 5 year olds waiting for the ride. Between the 5 year olds and the 50 year old chaperones, me and my roommate felt extremely out of place. The kids were looking at us like "what the hell are these two morons doing here?"

But seriously, those kids are SOOOOOOOOOOO cute. There's this little boy. I squat down and said hi to him. His mom asked him to say hi back, but instead of doing that, he lifted up his tiny little hand and touched my chin. I totally melted. And then he smiled. I turned into Jell-O. He had me at that smile. Really, he had me at that smile.

Then the train came. Is it wrong that I almost got into an argument with a 5 year old over the front row seat? I mean, I was there first and I yelled 'shot gun' and everything. Why can't he sit at the back with all his friends? And why do I have to move? This is so unfair. You can't fight with a 5 year old. They always win.

Bastards.

I couldn't stop smiling the entire 12 minutes while I was on the train. I felt like a little kid again. A little 5 year old riding a steam train.

It was perfect. A perfect 10.

Bird, confession and a lady named Matt.

2005-07-05T18:56:00.000-07:00

There's a bird in the locker room.

No, not that kind of hairy bird that can't fly and sticks to two hanging balls. You people are too dirty minded. Two lines into a post and you're already thinking about dicks. I'm talking about the real bird, with feathers and wings and everything. Most importantly, it can fly. Not just because he believes he can fly. Unlike R. Kelly, who totally can't fly 'cause all those sex with 16 year olds (was it 16 or 14?) have totally killed his flying mojo, this bird can actually fly. Albeit in a locker room.

Did I mention that my gym has a super secretive underground type locker room? You have to walk through this 2 miles long tunnel, go through a waterfall, hike up a mountain and swim through lava (lavas?) to get there. Not to mention 300 palm scanners (like the one I have at my bathroom) along the way. My point is, I forgot where I'm going with this.

So, anyway, there's no way a bird can "accidentally" fly into the locker room all by itself. I'm willing to bet some crazy bastard hid a flying bird right next to his non-flying bird in his (hopefully) non-feathered underwear, and released it in the locker room.

Long story short, while I was changing out of my hot and sexy speedo, hence revealing my hot and sexy ass*, I saw a SPCA looking guy with a huge butterfly net walking around, trying to capture the bird. I left before finding out if he got the bird, or if the bird got him.

Next, we have a confession. Actually, I have a confession. You're welcome to share yours. Tell us how much you like feet, spandex and having alligator clips on your nipples. My confession: I think I smoke too much. Not cigarattes, but that gifts of heaven that makes you fly as high as a kite. I think it's getting bad. This morning I woke up, still high. Can you freaking believe it? I blame this all on my roommate. It's ALL HIS FAULT. All him. Not me. I'm just an little innocence young boy. Don't look at me like that. I feel naked and exposed.

Next, I went to the GLBT center today. They needed volunteers. So I signed up. Everything went smoothly, except one thing. I was introduced to a lady, named Matt. Is Matt short for a girl's name that I'm now aware of? Like Mattherine, Matteline, Mattmily or WhatcaMATTcallit. Something like that. Is there such names? Now that I think of it, that other (real) guy working there was referring to this (fake) Matt guy as "he", and this (fake) "he" has the roughest hand I've ever touched. I think (s)he uses a mixture of sand and sand papers to moisturize her hand. I mean his hand. Goddamn it! Someone please tell me if he is a man. I mean if she is a man. I mean is (s)he is a... Ahh, fuck it.

I'm sorry if I haven't been that funny lately, not that I've ever been funny or anything like that. I guess I was PMS-ing or something. I know I suck fat ass big time, what with being a member of The Shitty Blog Club and all. Hopefully you don't have to go through that again. I know, it's painful.

* I'm not too self absorbed, am I?

Operation slowly depressing and shocking myself to death - On.

2005-07-04T18:53:00.000-07:00

Picture courtesy of Guy guide.

This guy is a week older than me. A week. And look at his body. My God! Can somebody please look at those abs and tell me that he has at least 30 gallons of steroids in his blood stream? Pretty please? Or tell me that he's so extremely stupid, he doesn't even know if chicken or egg came first.

On the other hand, I went to the GLBT center today. Luckily they were closed because as I stood there reading all those flyers, I can't help but frown. I wasn't prepared. I judged. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will walk into that center and I will be prepared.

Oh the other other hand, I don't even know how to write about this. You think you know someone, and then she go ahead and tell you that she has a 2 year old daughter. Just when you think you know someone, you don't. I've known her for 4 years. 4 years. 2 year old daughter. The math works out, but everything else doesn't. I still think I'm dreaming.

Speaking of dreams, this morning I had a dream that woke me up. In the dream, I was riding my bicycle, on what seems to be a straight, leveled road. But all of a sudden, a hill is coming right up. I got to the top, and came down. And down, and down and down. The slope never ends. I tried to brake but the brake was broken.

Then I smashed into a wall. A beige colored wall.

4 posts on the 4th of July. Happy Inde-fucking-pendence Day to me.

Nightingale.

2005-07-04T01:31:00.000-07:00

My fingers have been resting on the keyboard for 5 minutes. Everytime I tried to move one of them, I fail.

Again.

And again.

Nothing is coming out.

This will not be a funny post. I'm sorry.

Too much emotions. Too much bubbles. Too delicate to validate.

I'm sitting here, in the dark. It's a nice night. I can hear fireworks going off somewhere in the horizon.

I live close to the ocean. And the pier. I can hear the ships' horns pretty frequently. Usually late at night. I like them. It soothes me, for some reason. Sometimes I lie in bed listening, and then fall asleep.

What am I doing here?

I'm 22 years old. What am I doing here?

I don't know.

I'm going to school. Period. Nothing else. I know there's another exam coming up in two weeks. Period. Nothing else.

I have walls. They are too tall and too thick. I tell people I don't want to get rid of them. Truth is, I don't know how to get rid of them. I built them myself, but I forgot the procedures.

I am lonely.

If I'm in the hospital right now, I don't have a list of people that I think will be there. No, I don't have a list.

I'm crying. I don't know why. That's a lie. I do know why. It's called self pity. Someone once told me that the only person you can depend on if yourself. I think I learned that too well. I don't need anybody.

My walls keep getting higher and higher; my fake smile keeps getting more and more natural... One day I'll look in the mirror and not recognize myself.

There's a GLBT center down the street from where I live. Tomorrow I'll go ask and see if they need any volunteers.

I will.

I promise.

There, the ships are here. I can hear them.

I have not felt this peaceful in a long long time.

Perhaps I'll have a dreamless sleep tonight.

I am pissed!

2005-07-04T00:18:00.000-07:00

I am super mother fucking pissed.

First of all, I'm fucking pissed that I'm not drunk right now. What a fucking party. Scratch that. It's not a party if all you got is fucking bullshit Bud Lights and red wines. And I don't fucking drink nasty fuck beers.

Second of all, that stupid fucking porn that I sold on ebay went for a lot less than what I expected. Like 30 bucks less. So now I basically paid 30 mother fucking bucks for a mother fucking porn that I watched once.

Goddamn mother fucking piece of crap!

I'm gonna keep that mother fucking porn running NIGHT AND DAY for the next 2 weeks just so it's worth that fucking 30 fucking bucks.

Fuck ebay, fuck you and fuck 4th of July all the way to that fucking White House's ass.

Drag Cartman wishes you...

2005-07-04T00:01:00.000-07:00

A HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!

Please drink responsibly.

(He's not too happy because you guys interrupted his fun at CartmanLand, and his ice cream and his eye shadow are melting. Even the teddy bear senses his frustration. Please note that Drag Cartman is wearing red, blue and white colors only. He's patriotic like that. Even his eye shadow are blue. Also note the cross he's wearing. He believes that Jesus helped America defeat those aliens that tried to take over our world. Please ignore that other Cartman in the background. That's just a cardboard cut out.)

Mr. 1000 speaking.

2005-07-03T20:40:00.000-07:00

Guess who's the lucky 1000.

That's right.

It's yours truly.

If I were smarter, I would've logged in from sitemeter website, instead of here. But turns out, I'm like, extremely stupid, you know?

So anyway, what should I give myself?

I already have the car and the diaper, and I don't need any portraits. Well, guess I'll just give myself a hand job before passing out tonight. I would've given myself a blowjob a la Martin, but I'm gonna have to surgically remove some of my rib bones a la Marilyn Manson, and that's just a la too expensive. So I decided to settle on a hand job instead.

The countdown begins...

2005-07-03T14:50:00.000-07:00

The sitemeter is getting closer to 1000. Who will be the 1000th visitor?

The 1000th visitor will receive this and this from me.

And also a South Park portrait similar to Dominatranny Cartman.

Let me know if you're the lucky 1000th!

2005-07-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

Because of this¹ and this² and this³ and this⁴, I have a feeling that I shouldn't write about that perfectly rectangular, 2" x 1/2" burn mark on my right arm that I got last night when I was making fried chicken.

So, let's change the subject.

I'm turning into a porn star.

No, not because my already huge dick just got bigger (I mean, c'mon, an 18" long dick is just downright scary). No, not because I suddenly turned into a nasty fat and ugly guy with a small dick (I'm NOT talking about Ron Jeremy. If you think I'm talking about him, you're partially wrong.)

I'm turning into a porn star because I'm sporting a porn star-y tan. My mankini-line^© is so crazy obvious, sometimes I'm ashamed to take showers at the gym. What's a mankini-line^©, you ask? A mankini-line^© is a bikini-line on a man with a huge dick. Except it's caused by speedo, NOT bikini. C'mon people, I don't wear bikini. What do you think I am, a bikini-wearer or something? Stop picturing me in a bikini! You people are freaking me out.

Oh and mankini-line^© is a copyrighted phrase. So don't use it without my permission or I'll sue you until you're left with nothing but your thong. Muahahahaha....

Anyway, I did not go to the tanning salon 24/7. What I got is an all organic tan, without any artificial hormones, pesticides and genetically modified organisms. As you might or might not have known, I swim. A lot. Like 5 or 6 times a week. In an outdoor pool. Hence the tan. My ass is as white as Snow White, but the rest of my body is as dark as Michael Jackson when he was born. I know I could've put on some SPF 15000 and all those crap, but I'm just too lazy. See my profile? The first thing I said about myself? Yeah, I'm a lazy ass mother fucker.

So far, my porn star life suck fat ass big time. I have 4 roommates. Roommate A and roommate B went to Tahoe last night, and will be back Monday night. Roommate C is going to Fiji for 2 weeks. Fiji, people! Fiji! 2 weeks, people! 2 weeks!

Fiji + 2 weeks = I hate that son of a bitch.

I don't know what I'm gonna do if he starts showing me his vacation pictures when he gets back. I might just lose it and go all hasta-la-vista-baby on his ass. You wanna know what I'm doing for 4th of July? I'm going to watch Inde-fucking-pendence Day on TV. Just kidding. But whatever I'm doing will be pale in comparison to Tahoe and Fiji. P-A-L-E. I should just start getting shitfaced now to ease my pain.

¹ ² ³ ⁴ Don't you just hate links? I know I do. Why the hell can't those dumbasses write whatever the hell they want to say and just get the whole thing over with⁵?

⁵ Unless of course when you're already a 100% certified cool dumbass, then you're excepted⁶.

⁶ I also hate footnotes. It's so fucking stupid. Why the hell can't those dumbasses write whatever the hell they want to say and just get the whole thing over with⁷?

⁷ Refer to footnote #5.

The verdict is in.

2005-07-01T20:38:00.000-07:00

I went to the bathroom to take a piss 30 seconds ago, and guess what I found there.

I'll give you a hint: it belongs to a woman.

I'll give you another hint: it belongs to a non-pregnant woman.

I'll give you one more hint: it belongs to a non-pregnant woman who's currently hemophilic.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there is a Carefree pad sitting on the edge of the sink. Well, not exactly the pad, but more like the wrapper. So, yes, some girl just changed a pad in my bathroom. My fucking bathroom. A fucking pad.

If you live with non-pregnant women and/or hemophilia, then this is not a big deal to you. But check this out. There are 5 guys living in this house. 5 guys. None of us bleed. Well, of course we do, but just not from our genitals. So where the fuck did that pad (hereonafter will be known as exhibit-A) come from?

I have 3 suspects.

Suspect #1: my roommate's girlfriend who just got here like 30 minutes ago.

Evidences:
- She's a girl.
- I'm not sure, but I think she has a pussy. Hang on, lemme go double check............. Yupe, I was right. Pussy? Check.
- Said pussy could be bleeding, volcano eruption-style. Perhaps even rival Mt. St. Helena.

Alibis:
- She didn't use the bathroom, yet. I know this because there's a touch pad on the bathroom door that scans palms for identification whenever someone wants to use the bathroom. Then the palm image is sent to my computer for fortune telling purposes. And so far, I couldn't find her in today's list of bathroom occupants.

Suspect #2: a girl who came over to check the place out*.

Evidences:
- Ding, ding, ding, ding! She's a gimme a G. Gimme an I. Gimme an R. Gimme an L. Got it?
- I think she has a pussy too. But it's too late to check now, 'cause the sun is setting. I can only check for existance of pussy when the sun is up because I need plenty of sunlight in that dark and humid place.
- Like I said earlier, this could be that time of the month.
- But the biggest evident of all, the mother of all evidences, is that she used the bathroom while she was here.

Alibis:
- None.
- Okay, there's still a tiny possibility it wasn't her. Press your thumb and index finger together. See that gap there? Yeah, that tiny.

Suspect #3: the bleeding ghost.

Evidences:
- Unknown.

Alibis:
- Unknown.

THE VERDICT: a unanimous that-girl-who-came-over-to-check-the-place-out.

Bitch! Don't think I'll ever let you move in here, you dirty nasty biaaaaatch!

*UPDATE*

I just went to the bathroom again, and exhibit-A is gone! Roommate's girlfriend is still here. Do you smell something fishy? Do you smell what The Rock is cooking? Yupe, he's grilling halibuts.

Damn it!

Who knew being a detective can be so tiring.

I need to eat dinner now.

Investigation might or might not continue later as exhibit-A is M.I.A.

* I'm renting out two rooms. Anybody looking for a room to rent in this part of the town? We have a kick ass palm scanner on the bathroom door, and I tell fortune better than fortune cookies. Any takers?

Charcoal King and Mind Boobies.

2005-06-30T17:38:00.000-07:00

I am so Free-Ur-Charcoal-King-ed.

Don't know what that means?

Boys and girls, allow me to enlighten your Do-Ur-Mind-Boobies asses. It's very simple. Just take the first letter of each word and put them together.

Tada!

Maybe you have figured it out on your own. If you did, please feel free to tell me how big of a loser and jackass I am.

At this point, I don't know if you're still interested in knowing why I'm Free-Ur-Charcoal-King-ed, but I'm gonna tell you anyway. However, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you read can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an interpreter present during any reading. If you cannot afford an interpreter, then you should be looking at porn sites.

In conclusion, I have long forgotten my point. Moving on...

I went to the gas station to get gas for my ass. My ass likes to fart, but lately he's been complaining that he's not getting enough gas. You should've seen him at the gas station. Boy, let me tell you, my ass can fart like there's no tomorrow.

Okay, seriously.

I went to the gas station for the last time. As you might not have known, I'm getting rid of my car. Long story. I'll tell you next time. So I was at the gas station, getting all choked up thinking about all the good times me and my piece-of-shit-plastic-and-aluminium-box-on-wheel been together. You have no idea how hard it is to cry and fart at the same time. Luckily I've had intense professional training in that department. So I managed to pull it off deadly and gracefully.

After the gas station, I went to Hell on Earth, aka DMV. And I was wondering...

- Is it just me, or when you see paramedics pushing a gurney in your general direction, you should've moved your fat ass to the side before said gurney bumped into said fat ass?

- Is it just me, or when you're pushing a gurney to, I don't know, say, SAVE A PERSON'S LIFE, you should be hurry instead of sauntering nonchalantly?

"Oh what? Somebody's having a seizure? But I just lit this cigaratte. Tell him to chill out for another 5 minutes, will ya? I'll be right with him. Thanks."

I've always thought it should've been like this:

"Oh shit! Somebody's having a seizure? I'm almost done dropping the kids off. Looks like I'm gonna have to take care of these dingleberries in the ambulance. Alright people, LET'S GO!"

Guess I was wrong.

- Is it just me, or when you know that your belly is bigger than a woman pregnant with triplets, you should wear a shirt that is big enough to cover the entire said belly, instead of wearing a shirt that would proudly show off your belly hairs? Just a thought.

Oh I remember now! I'm so Free-Ur-Charcoal-King-ed because I have a midterm tomorrow and I'm about 7 days behind on the reading, and instead of reading, I'm here writing about farting and dingleberries.

I love summer. It makes you not care about anything.

Season 2, episode 2, volume 2, issue #2.

2005-06-28T22:00:00.000-07:00

I have a moment today.

An "oops I did it again. I played with your heart, got lost in the game. Oh baby baby...."

Sorry. I get carried away sometimes.

This is by no means that I aka The Snakehead aka (my real name) aka Dude aka Hey aka psycho endorse that slutty and used-to-be-kinda-cute-but-not-really Mrs. Federline's singing inability. For all I care, she could be making lala with that other dumb-blonde-turned-dumb-brunette in the kitchen on the floor, and they both still quack like ducks who's about to lay a shitload of eggs. Do ducks quack before laying eggs? Or is it just these two?

So, anyway...

I did have an "oops I did it again" moment today, ironically, in my kitchen. But not the floor. 'Cause they both take up a lot of room to lala. Crazy bitches.

I was making dinner. Again. I swear, I can cook. I CAN COOK! COOK CAN I!

Tonight it's linguine with beef bratwursts and broccoli and pasta sauce. No slicing or wiping required this time. Simple. Yes?

Uhh.....

While I was draining the linguine in a huge pot (it's so big, I think they used to boil an entire hippo at one go back in the days), and I'm wearing glasses. You'll need this information in just a minute.

So the pot is tilted, water's coming out, steam's coming UP, all the way up in my face. In less than 0.5 seconds, my vision is blurred. I can't see a thing, but I can still feel the water flowing. So I keep tilting and tilting and then, bam! One of the bratwurst is out in the sink. (Yes, I boiled linguine and bratwursts in one pot. Yes, I'm lazy. Yes, I can cook. Shut up!)

"F-U-C-K!!"

For some unknown reasons that's still under investigation by the CIA, FBI and my mother, I decided to pick it up using hand, because there is not enough time to grab a fork. I am a true believer of the 3 seconds rule, regardless of the location.

Do you know that boiled bratwurst are like, really really hot? Like burning hot? Well, I don't. So all of a sudden, a bratwurst can be seen flying across the kitchen, hit the wall, and landed on where those two psycho bitches are making lala on the floor, and more profanities can be heard.

Long story short, one less bratwurst for me. Because I'm not going to eat anything that touched lala. Whatever the hell that might be.

Ladies and gentlemen, I swear to you, I really can cook.

Please believe me.

In other news, I have a midterm coming up this Friday, and I have about 300 more pages to read. I got ANOTHER ticket today. They know that I'm about to get rid of my car, so they're all coming for one last visit. Aren't they sweet? It's two and counting.

I was wondering if you think this is weird.

I live with 4 other guys. 4 other straight guys, I'm the only gay one. And in the bathroom, we have 5 shower puffs, 9 toothbrushes and 6 tubes of toothpastes. Looks like some of us have more than one mouth. It's definitely not me.

Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door.

2005-06-27T11:55:00.000-07:00

I almost killed myself twice yesterday.

First time, I was making lunch. Pot goes under the tab, water fills the pot, pot goes on the stove, stove is lit. Sounds good and safe, right?

Wrong.

Before I go any further, I need to point something out. I'm a little (that's the understatement of the week) anal. If you prefer, anal retentive. If you wish, son-of-a-bitch-with-a-stick-up-his-ass. Check out what Freud says about this:

Freud believed that conflicts with parents and delays during toilet training can cause a person to become fixated on anal control, which later manifests itself as a compulsive concern with order and cleanliness.

You see, when I was little, my mother wanted me to stand but my father insisted that I sit. I didn't know what to do so I pulled a half and half. I squated. I know, should've squated earlier. Then I won't be this anal today. It's all my fault.

So, to sum it up, I'm anal. Now let's get back to our story.

So the pot is on the stove, and I noticed that there are oil stains and spices all around it. Being the son-of-a-bitch-with-a-stick-up-his-ass that I am, I couldn't just leave it there. I couldn't even wait to clean it. I HAD TO clean it right there and then. So I took a napkin, and I wipe.

Do you know how easily can a napkin catch fire? Very easy. Too easy, in fact, to be child safe. Children should not be allowed to use napkins. They are dangerous. Do you also know how quickly can said fire spread on said napkin, when said napkin is covered in oil and spices? Yeah, me neither.

So my napkin caught fire. What did I do? I tried to blow it off. In my defense, I have no idea napkins are so flammable. And all these happened in like 2 seconds top. So I blow and I blow, and the flame got bigger and bigger. In a split second, I'm holding a flame, Human Torch from Fantastic 4-style. Except I wasn't wearing any underwear.

So long story short, I managed to burn myself a little before throwing said flaming napkin (I'm not implying that he's gay. He might be, seeing how he's so flimsy and all) in the sink and turn on the tab. The end.

Second time, I was making dinner. Mushrooms taken out of the fridge, mushroom goes on the chopping block, this guy grabs a (very sharp) knife, mushrooms being sliced. Simple enough, right?

Again, wrong.

So I was slicing the mushrooms, and all of a sudden, blood is e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. On the mushrooms, the knife, the chopping block, the counter, everywhere. And the tip of my left middle finger was dangling by a vein, barely hanging onto the rest of the finger. Okay, that's the OVERSTATEMENT of the century. But I did cut my finger. Deep.

But this guy didn't freak out. Bloody finger goes under the tab, running water rinses the blood. And I saw this piece of skin that almost completely got sliced off. Almost, but not quite. So what did I do?

I

started

peeling.

Ladies and gentlemen, never do that. Just don't.

Long story short, I ended up losing half a gallon of blood, passed out in the kitchen, and wake up with a huge band-aid on my finger. Okay, that's the OVERSTATEMENT of the century, vol.2. But it did hurt like a mother fucking son of a bitchy bastard.

Perhaps I can't cook.

Dominatranny Cartman wishes you...

2005-06-26T10:25:00.000-07:00

A HAPPY GAY PRIDE DAY!

Live from the Streets of San Francisco!

Please drink responsibly.

(Do you like the hair cut? He got it just for today! Tomorrow he'll glue his hair back. But don't look at his nipples for too long though, otherwise he'll use his nails to scratch your eyes out. Considered yourself warned.)

Hey, teacher, leave those kids alone!

2005-06-25T19:07:00.000-07:00

Today is the ultimate lazy day, complete with the ultimate lazy gloomy weather and ultimate lazy itinerary for the day, which consists only of going to the pool and studying, and one of them is procrastinatable until Thursday night. So my day pretty much didn't start until 4 pm. Nice, huh?

To achieve the ultimate lazy day, you have to start with the night before, where you'll need to get as high as a kite, preferrably higher than a kite. Keep the alcohol intake to a minumum level because nothing kills an ultimate lazy day like a hangover, unless you're immune to that. How do you know if you're high enough? Go look at yourself in the mirror. If you can focus and see your own eyes, you're not high enough. Go take a few more hits. If you can't see anything but a blurry son of a bitch starring right back at ya, you're good. Once you're sufficiently blazed out of your mind, watch Pink Floyd The Wall, which is like THE number 1 best-of-the-best movie to watch while your mind is going a light year a minute.

I have absolutely no idea what the movie is about. All I remember was the awesomeness that is Pink Floyd, and that's about it. There's a scene where the camera is very slowly zooming out on a guy's hand. For some reason, I mistook the knuckle for the elbow. And when I finally saw the ring on the finger, I was hella trippin' out, fool! Seriously. It was fucking awesome.

This morning my alarm woke me up at 11 am. Yes, I need alarm to wake me up before noon. Like you don't. Anyway, I went to my car and found a ticket and cobwebs on my wiper. The cobwebs tell me to drive my car more frequently, and the ticket tells me to get a front plate. I've been driving this shitty car without front plate for 2.5 years and I get a ticket telling me to get one a week before I sell the car. Fucking ay. It better be a fix-it-ticket or I'll go postal on those retards at DMV, total apeshit-style, complete with "hasta la-vista, baby" right before I blow their fucking heads off.

In other news, I am strangely infatuated with the cum stain on my No Brand extra-firm pillow from Target (meet all my pillows here). It's about the size of a quarter, and I'm not exactly sure it is mine because I don't remember raping that pillow. Even so, I'm still infatuated with it. I usually read him a story every night before we go to bed together. Right now we're reading American Dream by Neil Gaiman. Last night I stopped reading at the part where a hooker swallowed a man through her vagina because Mr. Cum Stain was visibly shaken by it. Poor baby. He didn't go to sleep until 4 am. After that he kept tossing and turning the whole night.

I wonder if this relationship between me and Mr. Cum Stain is normal.

I also wonder if that is why I'm still single.

The Exposed Diary of an Extinct Snakehead

Two thousand seven.

What makes me happy?

Ungrateful bitch.

A moment of clarity.

Wow...

Hiatus

Some exercise in the afternoon...

Nip/Talk

Delusion.

I just realize...

I wonder.

Heh.

You live and you learn. Easier said than done.

It's never ending.

I think I'm back for the moment.

Valentine's day

Innocence..... gone.

You are beautiful.

Frustration.

Home.

Turkey is a bird, yes.

Turkey is a bird, no?

Going to church at lunch.

Just me.

Friday night.

I uh...

A special day.

Me and me professor.

If I have a piece of bread, I'll eat half of it. The other half, I'll keep for later.

If I have a piece of bread, I'll eat half of it. The other half, I'll give it to you.

Enlightment.

Fame?

Grateful Cartman says, Thank You.

This is not what I signed up for.

What a life, huh.

What a life, huh?

Conversations.

Amen.

Who am I?

Stunning discovery.

Yet another lovely night.

Old.

Cartman is sick, so no Happy Labor Day wishes today.

I need your precious opinions if you have the time.

Let's hug it out, bitch!

I'm totally cheatin' dude.

Yay, I'm a school girl again! I mean, school boy. Boy, not girl.

New.

Notes to self.

Sober and unkissed.

When was the last time I wrote a sex post? It has been too long.

Fin.

Summer vacation part 2.

HAHAHAHAHHA

Summer vacation part one.

Snakey.....OUT!

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'm so delirious I'm random.

You and me? We are so over.

Today I hate title.

Titty Man

'Tis.

Don't even have time to take a piss.

Sigh.......

What?! What did you just say? I can't hear you! You gotta speak up!

Me, myself and Mariah.

I hate school. *updated twice!!*

This is the title.

Note to self...

A short and unnecessary update.

Untitled. Again.

Falling leaves return to roots.

Mark Twain, great legs and burning fork.

HaloScan, from the bottom of my heart, I just want to say: FUCK YOU!

Is it wrong?

Watch out, he's dirty.

I am seeing circles... They are moving... Or are they?

I've never been to me by Charlene is the best song ever. And I'm not kidding.

Hi.

I hate school. updated twice!!