Gag order Pt.2

I'm back..a little late as always, but I trust you all had a good holiday weekend.

Thanks,

The Mgmt.

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The older I get the more I realize why people don't want to talk to each other, and why mind reading though improbable seems like a highly overrated talent to have. Let's all take a second to think of the things we think about during a day.

Now lets all promise never to discuss any of that with anyone...because that was just disgusting. I know I have thoughts I wish I could forget all the time. All the time. I wish I KNEW HOW to QUIT you!! No I'm kidding I quit you already...hehehheeh. Shouts to Pruane2Forever.

All I'm saying is that the other day I walked home with bullets and condoms in my pockets. Well actually I went to dinner first at a family restaurant and all I could think was, "if only these folks knew I was so prepared to both end and prevent life right now.." In reality I had just helped a friend move and the two things he had most of in his place were just that- Bullets and Jimmies. I have no clue why an abundance of either is truly necessary but I'd like to think that he just anticipated the worst and that needing a lot of either means either something very good or very bad and so it would be best to be fully prepared for such a moment. Anyway as parting gifts and the down payment on my days work I was afforded a sample of his cache...That's what she said.

I have a spider's bite on my inner thigh. This upsets me in a way that is quite like finding..mud... on your white shorts.... before Wimbledon. God that was an awful analogy. I suppose it's somewhere north or a trip to the dentist but awfully far south of finding a quarter on the ground. As random daily occurrences go, for me, finding a bite of any kind is at it's base a symbol. I, as I'm sure we all do, find my body adorned in every manner of scratch, bruise and sometimes even bites, while putting on clothes or during showers . (My ex used to bite me..HARD. I don't bruise easily but I did often. The perks of long distance relationships are few though, so I'll count bites as one.) But they were all signs, markers, of the fact that someone or something has been on your body and when you get bitten by a spider it almost always is in your sleep and almost never does it yield super powers. So in my opinion they are a a wholly dissatisfactory thing. I do not like it and no matter what Kate says about them eating pests I've never sought out to harm a spider and I'd appreciate if they showed me the same respect.

US Soccer finished as we all knew they would, at home watching like everyone else. There is no hope for the US side to ever contend for a top spot in world soccer competitions because our best athletes are doing every other sport but this. My own brother for instance would make a great body double for Oguchi Onyewu but he is now riding the pine all so he can keep getting a free education at one of the top universities in the nation. I don't disagree with his choice completely. I think it is a safe, smart move. If I had his talents I might try to play at the highest level simply because our team is so piss poor and it would be a nice exercise in exploration to see just how much better we could get by adding talent alone. Never mind our grade school tactics or the complete lack of team alchemy on field. Oh well. Brazil has been bounced and so they too will sit by and watch. Funny how two overhyped teams have been ousted by more upstart competition. I don't read the Portuguese news but I'm pretty sure one of the biggest endorsers of the Brazilian side is actually an american company. Nike and all the oodles of soccer fans here stateside adorned in the Azul y Verde latch onto them because our own team is so incompetent. Hungry to latch on to a winner more so than most othe countries we eschew patriotism and root for Goliath instead of our own burgeoning David. It is hard to root against a team like the Brazilians but there is no reason why so much talent should fizzle out so readily. What they have in talent usually makes up for the lack in perseverance but in the sad reality of things the US and Brazil are at opposite ends of the same truth; One is too talented for their own good, the other just thinks they're too good.

I know I shouldn't but I'm going to anyway.

I don't know who makes these but they make me feel like I'm on the Truman show.

Fulfill your duties young man

Some nights provide stories that don't need to be written. Mainly because they're all stories in the end. This one may happen to contain streaking at 3 AM after closing down the bar, or a mother in full cougar mode at a party after a few drinks, or perhaps best of all Sir CockBlockington III of Cockblockshire; who told me in plain english come nights end that he was staying with me because I was the only person left whom he knew. But so what, it's still just a story about a night. The night also included me getting the most legit ride home ever midway through my walk across town which does deserve some pub' so shouts to my girl Holly and the Oregon Taxi co.

Tonight was definitely a good night so don't get me wrong when I say it's nothing to write about. It was just nothing out of the ordinary. If anything it was as much like anything I've ever done as any night in my life...except for the streaking...yea that set it apart but that's a different story altogether. Speaking of things staying the same I have given up sleep for lent. It is neither Lent nor am I Catholic but what I do want to do is stop sleeping. I get a lot more done and though my daylight hours tend to drag at the end of a 40 hour pull or near the end of a week in which I've only accrued 20-25 hours of sleep, I still find it preferable. I also did most of my sleeping post coitus as a monogamous man but lately I don't see that as the end of my night. This night went well though I feel bad for leaving Sir Cockblockington at some random house party. Though then again not really. He and the tool bags at the door deserve each other. Oh by the way...I graduated today.

Gimme the night

Sabes que te quiero pero te mataré si me dejas

They don't call it a romance language for nothing. =) I was stuck in a room by myself all day today. Well not really by myself, "Maddie", the Anthropomorphic cartoon representation of the average shopper at your local Macy's location was there to guide me through my training. I spent 7 hours today trapped inside the mall and hated most every minute of it. The ladies who work in HR are actually extremely nice so shout out to them for helping me blindly fumble my way through a job I had to keep reminding myself high school kids can do. See this job would have been a lot more appealing if I wasn't moments from a Bachelors degree, but I just spent over $100,000 and 5 years working so I'd never have to do shit like this but here I am with a summer job all lined up. I was actually warned during the portion of our training that outlines the code of conduct that anything I do or say on my own time "may" be used as grounds for dismissal but to be honest 1) You'd almost be doing me a favor, 2) I dare you.

I'm kidding, I love Macy's and actually found their history to be quite intriguing. The average shopper there is a middle aged woman, in the work force, perhaps with a kid, perhaps not. So I imagine my time in the Men's Wear department will be mostly tranquil. The funniest part about today was that the computer system I was on crashed and I actually had fun setting it all back up so I could continue to drone on with my mock transactions. I'm just a teachers kid is all.

The bigger issue is so close I won't be able to write about it until after it's happened I fear. I may find a moment to really bust out this end of school post I've been equally dreading and loving but the P-units will be here in force by next Sunday so I may actually just commit suicide instead and save myself the pain and suffering that is sure to come. I haven't really even done a true recap of my trip home I don't think (there are LOTS of drafts sitting on my desktop right now) and that means no one, except those who were there, knows about the job offers I got. But what about Grad school? My ex dumped me because I selfishly wanted to chase my dreams to go to law school on the east coast and she was sick of waiting (can you blame her though?). It'd be a shame to lose both her and the dream but CA is just so damn sunny how can I resist? Until I can collect my thoughts I'm just going to say I have a choice much the same as the chick in the Notebook. My two great loves are pulling me in opposite directions and I cannot pick where I want to end up. I know I've got some good ideas started elsewhere so I'm going to stop babbling now and go work on them so I can get something done. Until then..the job I'm glad not to have.

As all guilty men do, You will rewrite your History

I've got to assume that since literally 99% of you watch me work and never interact that you aren't looking to be heard, but are here to see what I have to offer. In that sense I feel better because I always felt bad for not including your vision here, but at the same time am sad because I have to admit I'm not entirely sure I can hold the audience. No matter I'm going to keep doing what I've always done. So here goes.

I went to lunch with a classmate of mine last week. Something I honestly wish I could have done more of in the past but that wasn't my journey so I don't stress it. The days post tense have left me thinking only one thing...I think I was a bit too comfortable in my own skin around her? I hear the way to handle these things is to just be yourself but when you're me that can be both a good and bad thing. It's a bit whimsical because there are obviously many interactions and so for me to assume that it was my openness that caused any glitch in the Matrix is a tad presumptuous but not completely unfounded. Lets hope this weekend brings improved results. I love my girl Ariana by the way, who once I informed her a cock block had appeared in our class out of nowhere, told me I was going to give up rather than increase my effort. From her, and only from her is that more a statement of fact than a putdown. I don't know how she got to know me so well but no of course I have to prove her wrong because as right as she may be I'm still competitive.

My idea for the sleeve tat' is basically at a standstill. I know I want it and I know where I want it. But the final two choices are much harder. Where to get them and whether to get them are pretty much road blocking the process. I have plans to meet up with a friend back in Long Beach in a few weeks and hopefully she can help shed light on all this and Melissa should be back from her honeymoon by then so I'm sure I can get an earful of sense from her too. Though...now that I think of it, she's had some "work done" so maybe she won't be as down on this idea as I expect. I have this weird urge to implode sometimes and I think it might manifest itself in a post soon. I mean True Hollywood Story type, tell all post about myself that may needlessly put things into the public forum that don't need to be there. I dunno why it is those things intrigue me in the least but..if I were like everyone else then I suppose I wouldn't be writing this would I?

P.S. - SEE YOU THERE!!!!!!

These are the kinds of things that happen

It's Cinco De Drinko so a good portion of my readers won't be reading this until the weekend most likely but I just got back from a workout and I'm tearing myself up at the seams over another eventful trip. I skipped the Rec yesterday SPECIFICALLY to avoid the Jersey Chasers who had shown up to "Git seen" by the football team. We just finished Spring Ball last weekend so that means all the guys are free to hang out after school now but still have instructions to lift from coaches. Year in and year out it is like the Salmon spawning, these dudes show up and the girls do too. Im old enough to remember when this was actually exciting..you know back when I was younger than everyone. But now these hooers are my little brothers age and not nearly as appealing. The signs are just a bit too obvious for me. A girl with a regular bra on and not a sports bra..tryin' to git seen. A girl whose shorts look like what the Showtime Lakers wore...tryin' to git seen. And of course, a full face of makeup to workout is someone deperately, tryin' to get seen.

He had a "Magic" "Johnson" Double entendres abound!

Now anyone who knows me knows I am not a fan of the hooers. I just don't do skeezer. I made this choice unfortunately at an age when I didn't even know what sex was and so didn't quite understand the implications this would have on me. Needless to say I am now mortally bound to stick with the decision because I have some romantic attachment to the image I saw for myself then and I do my best to live up to this antiquated idea no matter what. So today I went at a time before any ballers may be in attendance and got down to business. I saw the She-Aries and we chit chatted about the Lupe Fiasco show this weekend and then I was on my way. It feels so good to be tired from exertion again. Sitting in a hospital bed for so long robbed me of that joy and it's taken quite a while to come back to form. I went to get some water and someone walked up next to me. As I stood, I looked, and facing me is this brunette. I'm indifferent to what I see and so I turn to go about my business and what do I notice..? A red bra strap that matches her red gym top.

Now I am an admitted self saboteur when it comes to women so this shouldn't surprise any of you but my first thought was actually, "Fuck, I wonder how long I have before these dudes show up." The Jersey Chasers have some sort of intelligence network and often show up BEFORE the guys do which is scary in itself but I was enjoying my lift and didn't need to see 50 extra people start milling around breathing up all my air. It was just funny to me that she coordinated the bra and top. Had the two been mismatched I would just have assumed she'd forgotten her job bra or perhaps not cared, but this shit was premeditated and thusly an annoyance. So as I get back into my lift I realize she is an aberration, perhaps she thought the meet was yesterday or perhaps she was hoping to see a particularly committed fellow who came two days in a row. Either way, my fears were for naught because the swell never came.

He is a complete dork and even he gets girls.

I went back to see the She-Aries at her desk to sign up for a bike in between sets. Lo and behold look who is behind me? Yea red straps. Now I've noticed she of course wearing my personal favorite, yoga pants, and doing well in them; but I already find her presence annoying so it's really not as persuasive as it might have been. On a scale of Gwyneth Paltrow to Kim Kardashian she was probably Jessica Alba. (nice but only from certain angles) Nice as that thing was, I was happy to finish the rest of my work out without incident. That is until I went upstairs to stretch out.

Stretching and ab's always come last for me because I like to take my time. The mats were mostly taken up so I just found an empty part of the carpet, threw down my towel and went in on some medicine ball pikes. That was not very much fun. I usually try to just lift weights and not fuck around to much when I'm at the gym. It's a habit that made working in a gym bearable when I had a long distance relationship. So even now I just find it rude when people are on cell phones or playing around or best of all, trynna git seen. Go to the bars for all that! Anyways I'm done with the pikes laying on the ground feeling the pain while waiting for the gain and I see this chick on the mat across from me who must be a D-cup, but what caught my eye was the fact she was looking at me too. I was embarrassed because if you are like me, then picturing all of my 6'4" doing that pike then crumpling to the floor in an exhausted huff doesn't seem to graceful. I finish my ab's then get to stretching and now find myself looking over at the Busty Blonde. If it's not clear by now I want to make it so now, I am mistakenly living my life by trying to hold on to childish naiveté. I understand that every girl that smiles isn't a hooer and I could in theory just take it as a compliment. Buuut I don't.

This girl had some sort of creepy perma-smile which was nice but still...scary. I was done so I walked down stairs to get changed and walk home. This story ends as such. Somehow she made it to the locker room before I did, and so when I rounded the corner there staring me in the face was this perma-smile. Look am I a fan of above average sized breasts? Yes of course. Do I love a watermelon shaped ass just as much as the next guy? Well what was your first clue? My point is there is some physical reflex I have, that instead of allowing me to go up to these women obviously looking to be talked to, I make sure to walk as far and as fast away from them as I can. This chick with the tit's was especially troublesome to explain to myself when I asked "Why didn't you talk to her" mainly because there was no real reason. I'm just not into that sort of thing. And what thing is that you ask? Being happy. That's what. Some people meet me and have a hard time believing I don't drink or smoke, others have an even harder time finding out I can count the number of people I've slept with on one hand. And I'm talking honest disbelief, people think I'm lying to them. I imagine if they saw the neurotic physco-babble I just spewed they might find it easier to believe.

So yes, tonight, instead of motor boating the night away, I will instead hang out with my friends like always, maybe even catch up on some Hulu. I remember joking with my ex all the time in a self deprecating way and just saying, "Who is gonna bone me?" In some ways it's quite true that no one is, but it's really only true because even the ones who are trying, aren't going to be successful with the way I look at things. I think the next time I see either of these two girls I will approach them and see how it goes, not so much because I want to, but because I've no reason not to.... This sounds like no fun at all.

We love these hoe's.

Full Disclosure

I am so in love. I met Maya more than two years ago at a concert in Portland and have been absolutely head over heels ever since. I was on stage when we met no less dancing my ass off and when our eyes met it was a transformative experience the likes of which I’ve never experienced before. Maya Arulpragasm better known as, M.I.A. is the truest representation of what I think I need in a woman to be happy. She is smart, funny, sexy, and best of all has a mind of her own backed up by a smart mouth. She can be witty without being catty, and talk shit without coming across like a bitch. She is absolutely amazing. Unfortunately for me she is married and just recently had a baby so it seems she has decided to put down roots elsewhere. Meh, at least it wasn’t that asshole Diplo.

So anyway I saw her quote being passed around Twitter and the first time I read it, I don’t think I understood. So I read it again and when I was done I paused. What followed can only be described as a mix between a laugh and an awestruck gasp. Not only did she give credence to something that for so long I felt bad about thinking, but she did it as a member of the industry. It’s tantamount to Kevin Durant telling a reporter he thought Kobe was ok, but not quite as much like Jordan as he thought. Or Zlatan telling Reuters that Drogba was perhaps just a bit more impressed with himself than anyone else. I was just taken back to that night on stage, the song ending, security ushering the throng of stage hoppers back down to the floor, and me stuck staring…standing… and waving. Had she beckoned just then I have no doubt the music would have muted for me and like a zombie would I have been at her side posthaste…not.one.doubt. In the words of another great hero of mine, Pharell, once wrote a song simply saying, “I just love your brain”. Double entendre’s aside there isn’t a better way to describe my love for her. The only other person I know right now with that same mix of charisma and intellect is my very own Bodhisattva back home. Even at 3yrs old I can tell she will be far smarter than her Nino…though that isn’t much of an accomplishment. I am a clear and devout M.I.A Stan that’s no secret.

What may surprise you is that I have no idea what she is saying when she said “[Gaga] sounds more like me than I do.” I resent that statement and I have absolutely no idea why she would say that. Those bloggers who said it sounds like a case of jealousy don’t know a thing about M.I.A. She has had the opportunity to sell out and passed. Her songs blew up when the mainstream heard her song in that damn Pineapple Express commercial or in Slumdog Millionaire. There is no way she thinks Gaga is somehow privy to chances she wasn’t. What she is though, is upset at the fans for eating up the garbage Gaga often puts out. That commercial she put out under the guise of “music video” for Telephone is a perfect example of how they couldn’t be more different.

Hate week is coming back soon. I have new things to hate, and fresh content for you to enjoy so stay tuned and I will be sure to keep you updated. Now it is time for the latest installment of Your random story about my time at UCLA medical.

So I suppose that last story I mentioned was a bit dramatic, but again I will emphasize that the simple fact I am here to recount it makes it all less so. In class the other day we were discussing abortion and it reminded me of a story I heard after I got out of the hospital. After I faded into that effortless sleep I spent a day or so under sedation and at some point my heart went berserk…again. I never gave the story much thought but now after trying to imagine life or death decisions being made without my input I find myself especially emotional. It is also scary to think what it must have been like for those who were there. I never shut up…ever. I never ever stop telling people what I want them to hear and in part that can be reassuring for people. Watching people work on me yet never see me open my mouth to chastise someone for something must have been a strange experience. So I have no memory of what had gone on. May 1, 2009 – May 3, 2009 are days I won’t ever recall, it’s part of my life that someone else has but I don’t, those memories are fuckin’ collectors items as far as I’m concerned. But unlike O.J. I promise not to stick you up to get them back. The story I had in mind involved the whiteboard I mentioned. I guess that at time there was some disconnect between my conscious and my subconscious because I was asking for things like juice and bagels, and something known as the Bruin Breakfast. I think I only ever ordered the Bruin Breakfast once and that was without a breathing tube in. I’m stubborn but not that stubborn. My stomach was literally forcing my hand to write these things. I find that amazing. I find it interesting digging up these stories bit by bit. I didn’t allow myself to feel emotions back then as many people close to me surely can attest. Looking back from this safe distance and feeling scared at a memory is like seeing a Scary movie or something. It’s riveting but truly horrific all at the same time. Next time I’ll talk about my friend Olivia and her eminent retirement.

Ghost Post #2

Mike Mcfly back up in the building. 3 more tidbits to get you through your day. Lets Gooo!!

1) Before this story gets any more stale I'll go ahead and give my 2 cents. On Jay Leno's new/old show, Sarah Palin decided to do stand up comedy...and Failed. Sarah Palin is an idiot. Not a surprising conclusion for me to come to I know but that fact is even more depressing when you think about all the people who work with and for her, that help make the machine go! Who in their self respecting, right-mind could help that shit show progress? Its to the point now where on the show during her interview, she was asked about the notes she had written on her hand and simply said, "They were things that are important to America."

WHAT THE FUCK!!! Yes energy policy is important but not SO important you could memorize that shit? Are you serious. And no one ever calls her out on it. When she does get called out she's being attacked for being a woman or a patriot. What a mind fuck. It also doesn't help that NO major news sites carried the story. Major left wing blogs like the Daily Kos and Huffington's post's both spoke about it but that wasn't unforseen. Goddammit America, just once lets pretend we're not completely corrupt.

2) Kanye Breast, not only is her name absolutely perfect but it seems the twitterverse is rife with women who aren't ashamed to share their sexual desires. In this case a love of titties and mexican is a prerequisite. This blogs title and this post should answer those two questions straight away. I mean fawning over that cum receptacle he likes to call Kimberly K (let him be angry!), and naming his blog after a damn burrito pretty much make him a shoe in right? I can't personally say whether or not he's endowed, but he is for damn sure a Nerd. Thats a fact jack!! It's my new favorite game to see how many women I can find that describe in part or in totality, this blogs creator, then tweet them and try and get them to contact him. Lets all join the campaign..We know his game is weak. HAHA (yes that was me, and I was also the one who came up with the whale or waif comment and I'm quite proud.)

3) The hottest couple in the game right now, in my opinion, are Zach Galifianakis and Fiona Apple. You can see here he's got the proper amount of emotional detachment to keep Fiona interested while she's just hot enough to keep him from completely tuning her out when she speaks. There wasn't chemistry like this in the Notebook. I have no idea whether or not they're really together and this video is actually from 2008, so the trail has probably gone cold by now if there even was one. But that won't stop me from wishing this would happen. I'm tired of sterile celebrity couples. They only come in two types anyway. The boring normalish ones like Eva Longoria and Tony Parker, who publicly are as bland as corn starch, or the crazy outlandish ones like Charlie Sheen and Denise Richards, where you're just counting down the days until one tries to kill the other. There's really no other type and if they don't fit the type one of them just isn't that famous. I just thought of Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow as a good argument against this but I don't know the last time Gwen was in a movie besides Iron Man? So Zach, Fiona...Get busy.

The Suck-You-Bus

I can resist anything, except temptation- Oscar Wilde