Wednesday, August 30, 2006

First Day At School

My first day of grad school classes was a success.

Okay I only had one... and it was mostly housecleaning and busy work... and we let class out early but still it was almost 3 hours long... and full of wimmens asking stupid questions! I'm spent!

But yeah,sSo I'm happy to say that at no point did I feel overwhelmed nor did I get the urge to run screaming from the room which I often do in excess. I am confident that this course will in no way try to butt rape me. IN YOUR FACE LIBRARIANING NEMESIS!

We began much as we do any class, by introducing ourselves and I'm proud to announce that I was able to work in the words "lamp post" and "naked people". I would recreate the introduction here but I think it's more fun for you all to use your imaginations.

Anyway I am beat. All of that playing with my high lighter top and judge people for taking too many notes has really warn me out.

Good night!


*Update* My friend dared me to fill out a profile for so I did. If any one asks I am a pickle salesman with an Associates degree. I am 21 and divorced with 3 children, 1 of which is at home. For my introduction/description of who I want to meet I simply put "luscious" and when I'm not busy selling pickes I am smoking and drinking heavily. Oh yeah and if you go there looking for a picture of me you'll only find my friend's picture BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Monday, August 28, 2006

I Hope Grad School Buys Me Dinner First

So my librarianing nemesis says to me the other day, "Stuuuckkiiinnggfuuuupiiid!!! I feel like I hardly ever get to talk to you anymore! Our lunch breaks are all over the place and... well... I got to get going but I will definitely talk to you later. Good night!"

Well played bitch. You may be able to fool other people with your dog and pony show, but I see right through your seemingly genuine warmth and sacchrine smile (sweet but artificial)!

My guess is that you're done crotcheting a voodoo doll of me or your adding the finishing touches to a manifesto on why I should be fired, expelled, and never allowed to work in a library again. Either way I am on to you. ON TO YOU. You sleep with one eye open and with a baseball bat.

Now my friend keeps trying to make me sound like I'm being ridiculous about my librarianing nemesis because today the map librarian made a similar grad-school-is-going-to-bend-you-over-and-have-its-way-with-you comment (I believe his exact words were "Ready for the end of your life tomorrow"), but I prefer to think that he was joking around while she had malice intent. INTENT IS EVERYTHING.

For instance, nipple is a pretty innocuous word but add you to make it "you nipple" and behold! You have a very biting (if not perplexing) insult that tells someone that they are useless!

Yeah. Rock solid point.

I forgot what I was talking about. Nipples are funny.

Bah. I need to go I have a lot to do before my last day ever.


Sunday, August 27, 2006

How Gay Am I?

Awhile back someone asked me, "Just how gay are you?" and the only way I can really think to answer that question is pictorially.

I would say I am somewhere between this:

And this:

Which would make you think I was this:

But I am most definitely not that.

And whenever I take one of those highly scientific "How Gay Are You?" quizzes it always tells me I'm a lesbian. I don't like women, I've never even worn flannel, and the last time I went to a Home Depot was two years ago to buy supplies to make an elaborate Beer Bong (named Barry) for my friend's 20th birthday party.

So essentially I am either a lipstick lesbian who likes men or a woman trapped in a man's body (or the gay male equivalent of a tom boy? A tom girl? Gah! My head hurts).

I hope that answered that question. Does anyone else have anything they want to know?


Friday, August 25, 2006


At my darkest moments, my friends always manage to pull through and cheer me up... whether they like it or not.

One of my friend's recently started teaching 3rd grade at an elementary school down the road from her house. She messaged me the other day to tell me that one of her students... has tourettes!

My gentle response, "AHahaAHAhAHa! What kind?!!?!" I'm pulling for the obscene hand gesture/words kind. Because really, there's nothing more precious than children learning about the birds and the bees because one of their classmates yelled something about titty fucking.

Another friend, who also works with children, told me this:

Horseface: I think I'm getting old.

Your Hero: Why?

Horseface: I dislocated my shoulder trying to krumpdance.

Oooh sweet relief.

On the work front, I would just like to declare Condescendcia the Patronizing, my new official all purpose nemesis (which just means if anything goes wrong in my life she's getting the blame regardless of whether she was involved). Yesterday she came up to me to say have a good weekend and then followed with, "Because it's going to be the last weekend you'll have in the next year and a half." Then she laughed maniacally like she had just tied a woman to some railroad tracks.

She is dead to me. I must come up with new inventive ways to annoy her that also don't get me fired. Like maybe slightly rearranging things in her office just a little bit so that she can't be too sure whether anything was rearranged at all. Or shitting in her filing cabinet. Subtelty is the key.

There are just so many options.


Thursday, August 24, 2006

I'm Just Glad I Got To Say Goodbye


Rest In Peace, 1990 - 2006

I hope in doggie heaven, the rivers flow with bacon grease and there are lots of other animals for you to pounce on. I love you and you will always have a special place in my heart.

I guess I believe in angels now...


Monday, August 21, 2006

My Weekend Antics

Thanks to everyone who contributed to my list of gay things left to do. I completely overlooked having sex in public places or in threes. Good points all around. Looks like I've still got so much to experience.

Anywho I realize I haven't written in awhile and that's because I've been traveling all over the the Greater Baltimore/DC Metropolitan area.

On Friday I went to my friend's Tony the Tumor party (she had serious brain surgery and decided to celebrate by having a blow out in her basement complete with Jungle Juice and bracelets that said Fuck Tony). There I got to meet a lot of stoners and a kid I suspect is a lumberjack.

He had a beard, was wearing flannel, and told us about a chainsaw accident he had in southern Maryland. Fortunately for him he only cut his arm up and just had to get stitches but he's lucky. After all, I went to school in southern Maryland and those hospitals are where people go to die. He's lucky they didn't see the wound and offer him a wooden block to bite down on and a handsaw. Instead I think the apothecary ground up some herbs in the back and let him wash it down with 190 proof alcohol before they sewed him up.

Lumberjack: If the wound were just a little shallower they probably would have just spat on my arm to clean out the dirt and sent me on my way.
Your Hero: Who spits on people? Unless they're prostitutes.

My friend had a dog named Achilles that kept bursting into the room every once in awhile all excited at the prospect of jumping on people. Animals are naturally drawn to me so of course the first thing that happens when I enter the house is that this cow of a dog makes a b line straight for me, attempts to lick every surface of my body, and then jumps up on me which nearly brought me to the floor. Fortunately they yelled heel in time to save me.

"Achilles, heel"


But I still thought that was amusing. In the morning her Greek mom made us too much food and then her Greek Republican father came to join us at breakfast to talk about politics and that's when my friend Loudmouth and I decided to gracefully run screaming from the table and the house.

From there I had convinced Loudmouth to come to Southern Maryland with me. She has been all white peopled out and wanted to see her black friends from college. We had to pick up a friend who lives near DC before that who was going to Southern Maryland to finalize her break up with her ex-boyfriend who she ended it with in late June. We told her if they ended up hooking up we were leaving her in Southern Maryland but she promised to remain strong and ever vigilant.

We dropped our friend off at her ex's place. He bought a house down in Southern Maryland thinking it would be there love shack and a shack it was. It is conveniently located just a block away from the local strip joint, which is the type of place where enter, the dancers put their drinks down, brush the peanut shells off their pregnant/beer bellies, and begin to put on a show for you. And the ladies are so fine they can't feel it when you put your cigarette out on them because of old scar tissue from a gunshot wound they never went to a doctor about.
So Loudmouth and I left her and gave her the code word Ca-CAAAW if she needed us to drive the getaway car, and then peeled wheels out of there.

After harassing some orientation leaders and resident assistants who were on campus early, I left Loudmouth to go be with her people and then drove to meet my favorite roommate at my favorite Mexican Eatery. I had a Texas Margarita and probably a DUI if I had been pulled over and breathalized but that's neither here nor there. My favorite roommate and I drove to our favorite liquor store where they recommended a beer based off the label which has a man with birds flying out of his ass. I bought a 6 pack of it and we went back to his place, caught up, drank a ton, and then watched Blade Trinity - only because I wanted to see Ryan Reynolds shirtless.

Mmmmm. Just to let you know that this entry constitutes right of ownership. Consider it my wedding announcement for my marriage to Ryan Reynolds. Today I heard Osama Bin Laden is obsessed with Whitney Houston and wanted to put a hit out on Bobby Brown, and if I hear about any of you marrying Ryan Reynolds I too will declare jihad on you. I shit you not just try me. You can have Jake Gyllenhal I don't want him.

Anywho. So after I was done with my hang over I decided to come back home. Our friend made out with her ex-boyfriend and wanted to stay for a few more days, so being the good friends that we are we left her in Southern Maryland and told he we suspect her ex is trying to get her pregnant so she can never leave him.

I then picked up Loudmouth because she kept complaining she was sweating her balls off and we drove off into the sunset.

Loudmouth: What's wrong with your car why's it doing it?

Your Hero: Oh that's nothing. It does that when it's hot out. Perfectly normal.

Loudmouth: Good because my worst nightmare is being stuck somewhere with you because neither of us know anything about cars!

Your Hero: Hahahaha!

I didn't tell her until we were almost to my house, but my check engine light had been on for an hour up to that point.



Thursday, August 17, 2006

Gay Town

I went to my friend's friend's friend's 21st birthday party last night and recovered at about 1 o'clock this afternoon. High class. I was too hung over to drive this morning so I took a sick day today.

Even though I was told my friend's friend's friends would be "over the top" they were tame to the point of being boring and made a mockery of every stereotype I ever had of theater people being the most shameless of nut jobs.* (Hehehe nut jobs). Still my best friend was there so I had an excellent time regardless. Little did I know before we headed out though that we were going to a GAY bar so I was going to be firmly ensconced in homosexuality and losing my gay bar cherry (and no I don't mean losing my cherry at a gay bar I mean I've never been to a gay bar perverts). What was fun though is that one of my friend's friend's friend's friends didn't know he was gay and he wrote on his facebook wall something about "Can't wait to go to the bar and scope out the ladies with you". I don't think his boyfriend would appreciate that. But I was kind of hoping we would go to the bar and he would be like the guy with no gaydar and roll in there like "wow this place is a real sausagefest" but much to my chagrin he did not and I think the news dawned on him pretty quickly when one of the guys we were with started showing off his Tiffany's bracelet.

The bar was very nice, all very shi shi and pretentious and the bartenders were gorgeous. Mmm beefy bar tenders. Not to mention the drinks were phenomenal (hence I got so wasted face without even realizing it). Couldn't even taste the alcohol.

My Friend's Friend: The bartenders were all very nice! At other gay bars I've been to they ignore the girls, but the bartender there was like "What do you want, sweetie?"

Your Hero: He said that to me too!

My best friend was in heaven even though none of my friend's friend's friends were talking to us. She even got a wink and a compliment from a drag queen that was parading around the bar.

Pickle Smuggler: You are so fierce. You're beautiful!

Your Hero's Best Friend: Oh my god! You're so cute, thank you!

Her name was "Christina". After this exchange, my best friend asked me if people thought she was a man and then told me how she kept forgetting she was in a gay bar and had to refrain from givin' the eyes to the fellas. Hah! Gotta love her. I'm disappointed there were no lesbians though, she really wanted to score some free drinks but it just wasn't happening. Oh well maybe next time.

Overall everything was great sans hangover and I'm glad I didn't get hit on by old men or gang banged while I was in the bathroom... or maybe I did the night is a bit of a blur. I'm probably full of herpes now.

Now I have to go to Pride and have sex at a club and I'm pretty sure I've done most things gay unless someone has other suggestions?


P.S. I just thought this was funny/ignorant:

Double Dose of Racism:

Scene: Asian man at the Thai restaurant trying to figure out every body's ages from our drivers licenses.

Your Hero: Jesus is this like a math test for him?

(The Cuban Guy that wants my junks overhears)

Mister Sister: He's asian he should be able to tell us our ages and calculate our tax returns in his head.

Some Guy: No that's the jews.

Scene: My work place, the student assistants are avoiding work at all costs.

(The hairy dirty hipster and the other gay student assistant are talking when I come in).

Jewbacca (hey he's hairy and jewish): Did you hear about this story? They rescued some mexicans that were stuck on a boat for 11 months.

Your Hero: Why?

*I've been friends with theater people all my life so don't go crying to me that you're theater person and are offended.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Maybe Recluses Have The Right Idea

Am I the only person who thinks that nice people are assholes? Honestly I don't see how one can subscribe to the nobody's perfect philosophy when all the evidence to the contrary indicates a person may or may not be the devil himself. To me people with this worldview are just being apologists for awful behavior and are almost as culpable because they perpetuate it by whitewashing the situation. If I had my way every liar, cheater, backstabber, and Green Party candidate would be shipped off to an island, thrown in a pit, and given broken bottles and rusty spoons to battle each other in mortal combat. Until then I will just have to continue on being the bane of those people I don't like through public humilation and relational aggression, because you NICE people certainly aren't helping the siutation. Sure my glass house may have nary an unbroken window left in it, but I think that just adds much needed charm and character. Hmmph! A pox on you nice people! A pox!

I've been very cranky recently (in case you couldn't tell). My life, or rather, my friends' lives have been a series of unfortunate events and they keep clinging to the GoodShip StuckingFupid to guide them through the mericless waters of that bitch I call life. I'm always here to give them advice or at the very least cheer them up, but it's beginning to weigh on me. I'm only one man (fine, boy, I'm only one boy) and can only stop being my usual apathetic self for so long before I start going all crazy and feeling emotions and shit. They're dragging me down into the depths with them! Away from me with your problems, lousy sea urchins. I've got my own problems and I don't want to deal with them either.

My crankiness is compounded by the retards I work with. One just got some bunnies and I shit you not she's made a web shrine to them already. They're cute but for Christsake who does that. This is the same worker that I like/hate because she yells at me for no reason. I think I'm starting to understand her though. The first thing I noticed is that whenever I exaggerae anything she tries to correct me even if her first react is to laugh.

Asian Librarian: My grandfather made a good point about our backyard, that if we ever wanted to have another kid and build an addition, we would have to move because there's no way to get a truck back there.

Your Hero: Meh, just buy a bigger bed.

*Laughter abounds, hey they're easily amused people*

Condescendia the Patronizing: Haha except there are laws against how many male and female children you can have occupying a particular room at a given time. Haha.

*Laughter has a stroke and dies*

The second is that she talks down to everyone and my response is almost always a curt, "Okay", which roughly translated in StuckingFupid Speak means "Shut Up Or I Will Skull Fuck You!" or "I love you more than candy" in case any of my coworkers should ever stumble upon this happy page.

Here is just one example of why I refer to her as Condescendcia the Patronizing. Today she pulled me off of what I was doing to show me how to free up a paper jam, which is fine because it is a new pritner and even though I've freed up paper jams in tons of different printers this one actually requires the removal of parts in order to do it. But no it couldn't rest there. Not only did she show me how to free the paper jam, she launched into a lengthy explaination as to why paper jams occur. "You'll find when the weather is humid, the paper curls and tends to get stuck more often. What we usually like to do is avoid certain trays that have a tendency to jam or turn over the paper and see if it'll work on a reprint. Now some people find that rolling the paper into a tube and shoving it up their asses helps but I don't like to do that because I can't talk down to you when my mouth is full."


I have a theory, based off of the old insult "You're so full of shit your eyes are brown", that has stood the test of time (as both my father and my nemesis have baby browns) so I'll have to take a gander at her sockets next time I go into her office to steal her Peanut M & Ms.*

It's not like she'll notice any is gone it's like a 62 oz bag and could feed a whole circus of elephants.

Oh I'll have to write that one down and tell her at some point. I can already picture the little gears grinding to the hault at my exaggeration as she calculates the tonnage of food elephants eat in a day and how it's near impossible one economy size sack of M & Ms could adequately cover their needs). If she's not dead by time I'm done working there she'll at least be grey and bald from stress.

But so will I if my friends don't stop telling me about their problems.

Gah! Gotta go someone has a crush and needs to talk about it. *Le Sigh*


Sunday, August 13, 2006

WARNING: Boring Drama Alert, Proceed At Your Own Risk

So yesterday I had this whole entry written out about this party I got invited to for my friend's friend's friend's 21st birthday and I was chugging along really making some progress when I was overcome with the urge to quit it. Does this happen to anyone else? You just lose inspiration in talking about something or you simply can't muster up the energy to finish what you started?

I just couldn't maintain my blogging arousal yesterday. I need Blogagra (the blog equivalent of Viagra).

The muse isn't really inspiring me to write today either, though I'm pretty sure I just caused some major drama the other day which could fuel the fires. Let us see.

So I told my friend (who shall be called Naive for this entry) about the rumor going around that her boyfriend slept with my nemesis. I felt like she had the right to know, and everyone thought she should know, but no one had the brass ones to do it. While she seemed concerned, she refused to acknowledge that anything happened between them and would rather think my nemesis is lying than her boyfriend is. I tried to convince her that this was the best course of action because my nemesis has been known to exaggerate his sexual experiences in the past and has lied about the people he's slept with (although admittedly it was always the case that he was lying about people he said he didn't sleep with when he had, rather than saying he'd slept with someone he hadn't).

Part of my concern though is that her boyfriend obviously wouldn't admit to doing anything with my nemesis even if he had and there's also the distinct possibility that my nemesis did take advantage of her boyfriend in a drunken state (which he has been known to do - one person I know accuses him of rape, another accuses him of fondling them when they were too messed up to do anything about it aaaand there was a witness who collaborates this story and was the one who forced my nemesis to leave - twice). Needless to say, my nemesis is an awesome human being. The possibility that something (or someone) went down between them is very high.

Well today more details follow. All I knew was that there was the rumor that my nemesis had slept with my friend's boyfriend, and that's all I had told Naive.

About two months ago my friend Bulldog (so called because he looks like one) sent me a strange instant message in which he franctically wanted to talk to my friend about her boyfriend. He wouldn't go into the particulars, but the whole situation was a little strange and I couldn't figure out what the big deal was. Then like I had said yesterday I was talking to a mutual friend of mine and the nemesis and somehow Naive's boyfriend came up and that's how I found out that her boyfriend was the very same person that my nemesis said he had fooled around with back in the day. Anyway after learning the name it dawned on me why Bulldog was acting so funny all those months ago. I text messaged two people with the news, Pizzaface and Loudmouth. Pizzaface just laughed and asked me to tell her more, while Loudmouth actually called and left me this message "Hey I just got your text and girl that is old news [Pizzaface] must have told you that, because I've known that shit since [Bulldog's] birthday! Anyway you need to call me back so we can discuss. Love you love what you do. Bye"

I use iChat and it logs all of my conversations on instant messenger so I checked my log to see what date the convo had occurred and then checked his birthdate on facebook and what should I find. His birthday was just a few days after we had that weird conversation. So my friends have known all this for months and no one has told me anything.

What do they not trust me? They act like I'm going to go crazy and blab it to everyone or post it on the internet or somethi- oh shit... well whatever. They should still trust me! Now it's just an open secret and I'm the last to know (err well actually Naive is the last to know I suppose).

So back to the story. Last night, like I said, Naive randomly messaged me (we hadn't spoken in about 3 months). I guess she just wanted to catch up and apparently talk about chocolate ice cream (because as we know food is the way to my heart). Eventually the subject of her boyfriend came up and I used this as my opportunity. I asked her if Bulldog had gotten in touch with her and she took the bait. She had a weird conversation wtih him two awhile back. All Bulldog did was try to allude to the fact that her boyfriend was gay by saying something to the effect of "oh I think I've lost the second love of my life". He never mentioned her man's potential involvement with my nemesis. She asked if that was what I was talking about and I said sort of but not quite and when she pressed me told her the rumor. I then text messaged Pizzaface to tell her that she knew now.

Then I wake up this morning to a text message from Pizzaface and logged onto my computer to talk to her. We talked about Naive's reaction to the news. I told her she doesn't really believe my nemesis and I don't like to give him the benefit of the doubt either so I wouldn't put it past him to lie:

Your Hero: I mean knowing [my nemesis] I can not trust anything he says completely no matter how credible it sounds.

Pizzaface: Yeah but I thought [Loudmouth] said [Bulldog] was there.

Your Hero: [Bulldog] was there when they fooled around?!

Well up until they went into whatever room they were going into.

THERE WAS A WITNESS! I had just assumed Bulldog had been told by my nemesis about the incident, but apparently he was there for part of it! This is just so dramalicious my little heart can't handle it.

What really concerns me most though is that if this is true, Naive HAS to know but I don't feel like it is my place to tell her that. She needs to hear it directly from the source (since my nemesis had told me he fooled around with a guy in his a capella group he just hadn't told me any names). Mainly my concern is (regardless of whether or not her boyfriend is gay or bi or was experimenting) he was dating a girl at the time that this incident *allegedly* occurred, and it is this that makes me uncomfortable.

I can forgive a lot of things but cheating is definitely in the top ten reasons I will unmake you and I don't want Naive to put herself in a situation where she is setting herslf up for an upset.

I hate to do it but it looks like I'm going to have to pull out the old Puppet Master strings and start getting people to be honest with one another. *Sigh* If people would just be truthful in the first place this wouldn't be necessary.

But a gays gotta do what a gays gotta do.

I have a feeling it'll be a long bumpy road, but I got my gulashes on to wade through the bullshit and my helmet is ready for when the drama explodes. Life watch your horns, I'ma comin' and I'm gonna steer you towards the truth no matter how many people you gore in the process.

Ahhh another entry down. Childish nonsense like this is just the grease that keeps the wheels spinning.


Friday, August 11, 2006

Everythings Coming Up StuckingFupid!

So back in the day I found out that my arch nemesis may have been sleeping around with people on the side and one of those people was a guy from an a capella group he was a part of. He claims they just kind of fooled around, but didn't have sex, and he couldn't tell me who it was because the boy had a girlfriend at the time.

Cut to the summer and one of my friends (who so doesn't deserve a boyfriend before I do) snags herself a man. Which now means I can't be friends with her because I'm a mean girl and I'm shameless in my disdain for other people's happiness.

Well guess what the connection is between my friend's boyfriend and my nemesis' anonymous hook up! ONE-IN-THE-SAME! And who is happier than a pedophile at a playground? ME!
Err... okay that metaphor makes me uncomfortable too but you get the point.

me = 2:^) <---- Happy!

On the work front, I somehow managed to lock the reference desk cabinet with the keys that open the cabinet inside. That takes skill. The key has a stuffed rhino on it to distinguish it from the other 50,000 keys we have. Here is my coworker's explanation of the situation that he sent out to the entire department:

Today the inexplicable happened: the (heretofore underestimated?) rhino locked himself--and the desk key--inside the desk itself.
We were *almost* able to jimmy open the unit using a D-battery, an old bilge pump and three mini marshmallows; thankfully, there's also a spare (though unlabeled) key in the top drawer of [the reference librarian's] desk. Keep your eye on that rhino...

And while we're talking about emails, they send all students the crime reports and I think they're hilarious. Here's my favorite:

A 22-year-old female student reported that she was walking
when she noticed an unknown male following her. When she neared the corner, the male ran to the front of her, put his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her close to him. She screamed. The male released her and ran. The female flagged a vehicle approaching the area. The driver transported the female to police headquarters where she reported the incident.

Sure this could have been a potential sexual assault/robbery incident, but I prefer to think there's a serial shoulder toucher (who is easily startled) running around my college.

Keep your eyes peeled and your shoulders padded.


Wednesday, August 09, 2006

I Really Should Get A Hobby Other Than Severing All Human Contact I Have


Today while I was pretending to work, I found something very interesting on MySpace (which by the way fellas I will add those of you who asked in due time... keep a look out for a big-headed kid with glasses trying to be your friend). In my search I entered in a bunch of random people's names and after exhausting my list from middle school, high school, and college I decided to start checking for the handful of people I know from my graduate school. And who's profile should I happen to stumble across? One of my fellow student assistants! You know the one who I wasn't sure whether he was gay or straight but then thought he had to be straight because he demonstrated bad taste in men. Well guess what.


This thrills me to no end. Even though it does ruin the monopoly I thought I had on being the only "gay" guy in the office... but he'll be leaving soon and then that just leaves me and the ambiguously gay librarian whose myspace I haven't found yet (lemme check.... okay nope).

I mean the student assistant is masculine in person (except for the occassional theatrical outburst) but his blog makes him sound almost as boy crazy as I am. (Speaking of boy crazy I saw Hotty McTightPants in the bathroom today and I'm pretty sure I heard him lining the seat with toile paper which makes me suspect that if he's not gay, at the very least he's a linesman in the ball park of sexuality. His sexuality is further confounded by the fact I saw him throw a piece of paper into the trash can and more importantly he made the shot which all looked a little too masculine and heterosexual for my tastes. Plus he's foreign so I have no clue how to tell if they're just gay or being European. I must continue to follow him around my floor of the library until I get to the bottom of this. Or he gets to the bottom of this. Hiyoooo!)

I don't know how to proceed from here though with the student assistant. I am very tempted to leave a comment to one of his blog entries, but I don't want to make him uncomfortable and feel like he has to censor himself because a coworker is watching. But then again that's never stopped me before and like I said he announced he'll be "retiring" from our department in a couple of weeks so this could make things interesting (office romance anyone? juuust kidding)

I'ma do it.

Details to come.



Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Drugs and Boys, Story of My Life

My friend has a kidney stone and refuses to take my advice. I fear his life may be in serious jeopardy because he refuses to take the percoset his doctor prescribed him... and wash it down with a box of wine.

This guy is a real stick in the mud and I like to talk to him because he makes me feel better about myself, but more importantly I talk to him in the hopes that all of his years of repression will result in a cataclysmic blow out! I don't want him to do something simple like get roaring drunk. I want him to get roaring drunk while snortin' coke of a stripper's ass and smoking a Cuban cigar.

It's only a matter of time before it happens so I bide my time. Unfortunately he's too smart to believe me when I say things like the government doesn't want you to have drug interactions because they're too much fun! So it's taking longer than I had ever anticipated. He did burn that Nelly Furtado song Promiscuous onto an oldies mix CD, so I think he's headed in the right direction.

In BoyWatch news, a really hot guy was running towards me shirtless and I was tempted to stage a fall to see if he would stop and help me up but I don't think his homely girlfrend who was running with him would have appreciated me using her man's crotch to help right myself.

Why are the pretty ones always straight... or taken... or whores... or all three? And how can people NOT be attracted to boys? And what was the point of this blog post? Eh whatever. The heterosexual male/lesbian woman lifestyle just seems very unnatural to me. Plain and simple. But I am not here to judge... much.

Since we're on the boyfront I've been talking to this guy on myspace and my usual scare tactics just seem to be turning him on even more. I'm just the funniest, greatest thing that he's ever "met" and I remind him of all of his best friends. By now I would have sent them screaming, but this guy is resilient. We've only talked twice but he's already told me he loves me 3 times and has disclosed more personal information than I would ever want to know. How many people he's slept with (6), when he lost his virginity (15 years old), what his plans are for the day (lunch with auntie and grandma then work at Bed Bath and Beyond) - all without prompting!

Still I suppose the attention is nice. That even though you are TRYING to be as undesirable as possible, that you are still desirable sto someone. So when I feel like I'm all alone and that no one cares about me, I can always find comfort in the thought that some crazy in Pennsylvania is watching out for me.

And probably masturbating to that picture I sent him.



Monday, August 07, 2006

In 10 Years I Won't Be Manless! (A Boy Can Dream)

Have you ever seen someone from behind you could just tell was gorgeous?

It happened to me the other day. There was this tall dark and handsome summummuh bitch walking down the path wearing a tight green shirt and even tighter pants (which made my pants tight eheheehe). He was just ahead of me crossing the street and I wanted to catch up with him so I could eye-rape him appreciate him with my eyes, but all these obstacles got in my way - mainly my campus' strict jay-walking laws and an 18 passenger bus, but by time I had run the gauntlet hotty mctight pants had disappeared into the library.

After a long hard day of work (ahaahaha like I work hard), I took what was probably my 15th unnecessary bathroom break of the day and as I walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, I looked up to see a gift from the gods. There before me in all of his frontal glory was hotty mctightpants coming my way and might I just add... he was everything I ever imagined him to be and more. In fact he was so hot I had to actually look away because I was afraid if I kept staring I would forget he's not just the man of my fantasies and try to reach out and touch him. That or he would have noticed me drooling all over him. Either way judging by those finely chiseled arms, rock hard abs, and defined quads I'm pretty sure he could have killed me using nothing more than his eyelids.

And I still would have died with a smile on my face.

I never used to be into Arabian or Indian or Asian or whateverian men, but that's my new thing. Before I only used to find blonde haired blue-eyed guys attractive but I think that's because I went to school where only the blonde haired blue-eyed guys were attractive and now that I'm at a larger school I get to see the rainbow of beautiful people. I'm turned on by all races now. I'm livin' the King's dream people!

That or it has just been that long everything gets me all hot and bothered. Boys... naked statues... phallic looking lamp posts...

Gah! I need a man. I'll have to put that in my 10 year plan.



Sunday, August 06, 2006

My Birthday Month Spectacular Day 2!

Things I learned today:

- Poop jokes are funny.

- People don't like overhearing poop jokes while they're eating.

- I will eat anything as long as it's drenched in chocolate.

- I just made an uncomfortable assocation between the three items I just listed above - right this very second haha

Before my friends came to pick me up to take me out to dinner, I had the most awkward moment with my mother which was prompted by my father.

Dad: I'm goin' out to mow the lawn, hey son want me to teach you? Ahahaha!

He knows I don't do manual labor.

Mom: He's not going to ever do the lawn. I see him moving into a condo or an apartment where he doesn't have to. *Dad's gone* Or you'll just have to get a wife who... likes doing that sorta stuff...

She then looked up at me and realized the mistake she had made and tried to cover it.

Mom: Or... friend... or... roommate...

I believe the term you're looking for is GAY LOVER, mother dear. I appreciate that she tried to right her mistake but the way she did it just makes me think it was hard for her to simply say boyfriend. So I wonder if that's what she'll tell people when I move into my one bedroom apartment with a guy. Ah that's just his "friend"... "roommate".

Those are so gauche and overused. I've been trying to come up with terms my mother would be comfortable with that aren't so run of the mill. My friends came up with a couple of suggestions my favorite being "business associate" (like Beverly Lesley says on Will & Grace) but I've also grown to appreciate "my worse half" and "partner in crime".

I'll have to keep brainstorming.

Three more friends down, however many more to go for my Birthday month.



Saturday, August 05, 2006

Let's just file this under, Reasons I Should Not Be Allowed Out In Public.

Day One of My Birthday Month Spectacular can not be summed up in words, so instead I give you the following.

Now imagine me wearing all of the above, running around throwing up the horns and you'll know why I am probably not welcome at the local Hot Topic anymore... not that I ever was. Rollin' in there with my American Eagel shirt, I'm pretty sure defines me as their anti-Christ or at the very least it's like throwing up a gang symbol.

I was disappointed by my visit this time around because last time they were all dressed up like pirates and that thrilled me beyond belief. Or was that Spencers... all those stupid emo stores blur together in my mind. I think I went to Spencers too today, they had a strange assortment of sex toys and games. One of which I played. Each player holds a little remote with a button on it and the object of the game was to be the first one to press a button before a flashing light in the center goes out. The light was blinking for a ridiculously long time so my friend got bored and just smacked my hand to get it over with. What he didn't tell me was THE GAME SHOCKS YOU WHEN YOU LOSE!

My arm went numb and continued to feel that way several minutes later which means I probably sustained some sort of neurological damage. If I wake up tomorrow half paralyzed I will use whatever working limbs are still at my disposal and dial a lawyer to sue the pants off that game manufacturer, the store, my friend, and I may throw in that kid that laughed at me because I squealed like a pig, threw down the remote, and then giggled like a little school girl after I got shocked. No one will be safe!

The rest of my day included hijinx at a mini golf course, which, is it just me, or is every mini golf course a bit of a run down shithole. Every one I've been to has been has been like a tetanus playground just teaming with rusty objects, sketchy waterfalls, and broken animatronic christmas trees (or large robot animal of your choice). I suppose for 4 bucks we got what we paid for so I can't complain, except, like most things in life, it would have been so much more amazing if we had been drunk. And I mean absolutely wrecked. But still good times none the less. The game was really fun. In front of us was a dad and his two sons. The dad patiently tried to teach his kids the finer points of the game even though he was doing worse than the rest of them. Behind us was a couple who stank of alcohol and who were very impatient, barely waiting for us to leave the "green" before they began to shot. Unfortunately for them I was gifted with all the cooridination skills of a libotomized cheerleader and had to take 6 strokes on almost every hole and that's with crying "mulligan" when my ball would say richochet off an object. Note to others playing mini-golf, using the strategy "hit the ball as hard as humanly possible in the general direction of the hole", is NOT a good strategy.

The final hole made the claim "World's longest mini-golf hole!" which was a dubious honor at best. I've seen longer. Oh baby have I ever. 2;^)

But overall the day was very good, I have to do it all over again tomorrow though because a few more of my friends are taking me out. *Le Sigh*

By the end of the weekend I should be sufficiently birthdayed out...

Too bad my dad's birthday is on Monday.

In the immortal words of Charlie Brown, "ARGGGH!"


Thursday, August 03, 2006

StuckingFupidMas Eve!

Happy StuckingFupidMas Eve, Everybody!

Tomorrow as you may know is the international celebration of my birth and I plan to ring in the 22nd anniversary of the gift of me to this world by!!!... doing absolutely nothing...


My friends suck.

So for all my other friends birthdays I'm recruited to write the birthday email because they think that I'm the funniest at writing them. The only unforeseen consequence of volunteering to write aforementioned emails, is that it also requires me to basically become the party planner because in order to write a birthday email you kinda need birthday plans to write about. That's when I drain all the who, what, where, when, hows out of people and essentially plan their birthdays all by my lonesome and report the information out to everyone. I'm very good at it and have yet to receive a complaint. I've also yet to receive a thank you but I'm not bitter toward those buttwads about it. Not at all.

For my 21st birthday I planned everything and it went off an unprecedented success. Everyone had a good time and they still talk about how great my birthday was because it was cheap, fun, well planned, and there was no drama. This year they were all hoping I would celebrate my birthday again because it would really be the last time all of us could come together as a group since everyone is going their separate ways soon due to jobs, grad school, etc. and I'm the last of the summer birthdays.

As much fun as I had at my birthday last year it took a lot of work. My friends are a mixture of ages so we have to go places that let people under 21 in. Some are vegetarians so I like to eat at a places where they can find a meal so they don't have to sneak in grass or leaves or whatever it is that vegetarians eat these days. Many of my friends are tightwads so I like to find places they wouldn't have to break the bank at. Plus we need designated drivers or a means of getting home/places for them to stay. Somehow I managed to work it all out last year, but I was not doing that research project this year.

As a result, when people would ask me what I was doing for my birthday this year I would think back to all the work last year, shudder, and respond with an exasperated, "I don't know... I don't really care as long as I don't have to plan anything. If I have to plan it all myself I just won't be doing anything."

And this is what they heard, "Blah blah blah I blah won't be doing anything. Blah Blah I hate birthdays and you smell like cat pee"

So now instead of having a birthday bash I am going to be stuck going out to dinner with these fools individually for the rest of the month. Which is also unpleasant because the cost benefit ratio is not very good. One birthday with everyone there, I get lots of money, gift cards, and food (because they know that's the way to my heart). For these stupid "we'll go out to dinner to celebrate your birthday and I'll pay for your meal" dates, I get no money or gift cards, only food and even then I usually end up paying part of my meal because they balk at the check. You would think by now they would realize that I am NOT a cheap date... and I'm an overeater.

Oh yeah my family sucks too.

If nothing else I was at least hoping that I would get a nice gift from my family for StuckingFupidMas, but that's probably not going to happen because I was talking to my mother this morning and after some comment I had made she said something to the effect of "oh well I bought you that thing 2 months ago for your computer" (which the defense would just like to note that she said she would buy me things for my computer as a part of my extended graduation gift) "but don't worry I'll still get you something little... but you might not get that on your birthday".

So from the looks of things I might be partyless and presentless for StuckingFupidMas... I mean I suppose I should be grateful for all my loving friends and family who care about me, support me, and send me their warmest regards but they don't accept good will and cheer at the Best Buy when you're attempting to purchase an iPod. I mean maybe they do I haven't checked into it, but I'm pretty sure if I tried that someone would hit the panic button and I'd be on the floor surrounded by security before I could show them the hand drawn birthday cards my friends gave me because they were too cheap to buy me one.

Ah well. I will be optimistic and perhaps I will be surprised!

There's always a chance for StuckingFupidMas miracles... you might get one too


Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Learning To Be Gay, One Gay At A Time err Day

Because my life is currently all work and no play (being car-less and all), I will again talk about work.

Today I was given the challenging task of counting microfiche (a job skill which will surely put me a cut above the rest when I'm thrust upon the market). In order to make the time pass by a little quicker I decided to go join one of the librarians and a student assistant (who was also counting microfice - that shit is all over the place) in the break room. I entered just as they were having a conversation about attraction and was already starting to feel a little uneasy.

The straight, allbeit kinda gay, student assistant said that the only men he can admit to finding attractive are half asian half black... which just made me picture Tiger Woods:
And nothin' against Tiger Woods, I've got no beefs with him...but... I find him repulsive to look at because he reminds me of ET The Extra Terrestrial:

Seriously you have to admit that resemblance is un-freakin'-canny. Anyway this assured me 100% that the student assistant is as heterosexual as they come because for some reason bad taste in men = heterosexuality to me.

So they soon turned their sights on me and the librarian asked kind of vaguely, "What types of... people do you find attractive?"

People, of course, being code for you are queerer than a 3 dollar bill... wearing a rainbow cape... watching gay porn... having a gay orgy... and I know it. I had to think for a moment about about how I should respond. Everyone in my office is very liberal and they have all those gay safe space signs posted up all over the place like it's wall paper so it's not like I was expecting any kind of negative reaction. And well, though I don't like to think it, I am told I am rather flamboyant and it's pretty obvious that I'm gay (which I suppose should have become apparent to me when I came out to my mother and her reaction was to laugh and say, "I knew it!"). But still. You can take your presumptions and stuff it. So I decided my approach would be to respond with vagueness.

"Well it's been awhile so I'm pretty much attracted to everyone."

Then a new "kill" came in, one of the other librarians entered the room and they turned their line of questioning on him and he just stared at them until he left him alone. Clever boy! I suppose part of my hesitation to just tell people I'm gay is that some people (who don't have a lot of experience with gay people, or at least with one as chatty and uninhibited as me) then take that as an invitation to ask every stupid question they ever wanted to direct toward a gay person that comes to their mind. You got your typical "Are you out to your family?", "When did you first know you were attracted to guys?" types of questions, but eventually it avalanches into questions like:

"Do gay guys lose their virginity twice? Like once for the top and again for the bottom?"

"How do you prepare for butt sex?"

"Why don't you believe in lesbians?"

And how DO you answer questions like that. I mean I like to think of myself as a repository of information but I am by no means an authority on all things gay. How does one delicately address the semantics behind backdoor action? I'm practically a virgin by gay man terms. Should I refer them to a more experienced source?

I usually just say I'm uncomfortable with this line of questioning and that seems to do the trick. But I do feel an obligation to educate the masses, the poor gayless masses.

What is a gay to do?


Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Next I'm Thinking I'll Set My Sights OnAtlantis, Or El Dorado

Today I had to go to a student assistant orientation but was almost 45 minutes late due to an overturned tractor trailor which closed both lanes right before the exit for my school. Greaaaat. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I reached the library I rush to the 7th floor conference room and burst in right as the coordinator was discussing the importance of punctuality.


Two hours later the woman continued to look at me every time she said anything remotely related to being on time. Bah! So needless to say the day started out pretty lousy. As soon as I was done the orientation I decided to treat myself to lunch and it was then that my day truly began to pick up.

For weeks now I have been in a relentless search to find our Student Union Subway and for weeks it has evaded me at ever turn. I checked the entire first floor, the second floor, the food court, the ground floor, the west lounge, the cafe, the co-op (hey you never know), but it was nowhere to be found. I was slowly but surely narrowing down the list of possible places it could be but still could not find it. I even broke down and checked a floor directory but it wasn't on there! That wascally wabbit had eluded me again.

But today as I walked into the student union, for some reason I knew things would be different. There was an electricity in the air, a vibe that told me that today was going to be the day.

There was one last place I had yet to look - a small alcove just off the ground floor and as I headed in that direction I saw a Subway bag in a garbage bin. My gut told me this was a positive sign, but as I approached the alcove I began to realize it was a dead end, leading to a stairwell and an elevator. Just as I was about to give up all hope I spotted a sign on the wall and I took a quick glance to find:

Clearly a sign from God or Allah or Yahweh or The Flying Spaghetti Monster, whatever may or may not have created man and showers mercy on simple fools like me in the form of foot-long sandwiches. I was in hot pursuit!

As I stepped onto the elevator there was another sign which indicated that the Subway was conveniently located on sub-basement level 2. Normally the first place I always look. Pfft. I would have taken a picture of that sign too but there are cameras in the elevators and I thought Public Safety would end up pulling me aside and questioning me like I was some sort of a terrorist. Especially if they check their video surveillence of the stair well which will undoubtedly turn up footage of me taking photographs of the floor plans and stuff like that. When obviously the rational reason I'm doing so is to write about my quest for Subway on a webblog.

Great alibi.

As I stepped off the elevator I saw it. I think the clouds opened up and a choir of angels sang out in an immaculate choirs, as I spotted a glowing neon sign pointing me in the direction of the glory that is Subway. After several failed attempts to take nonchalant pictures of the sign, I gave up and quickly made my way down a corridor, past some dance dance revolution games, across a bowling alley, over a bridge which had a troll I had to pay 5 dollars to, and over to a cubby where tucked away in the deepest caverns of the Student Union I found the Subway (which again I tried to take a picture of, I was so excited, but I had to be discrete because I didn't want people to be all "Why's that freak takin' picture phone pictures of the Subway?" and in my discretion I somehow managed to take a really great picture shot of my index finger and another of the back of people's heads, pretty much everythibg but the Subway despite the fact I was standing in the middle of it). You see officers, I'm not a good enough photographer to be a terrorist.

Instead I simply got my foot-long meatball Sub (because 6 inches always leaves me wanting hiyoooo) and here is the beautiful picture I took of it.

I think I owe the Subway people 10,000 dollars for posting that picture, but that is only a small joy compared to the endless joy that sandwich gave me. (Endless being until I finished the sandwich and felt like an overfed heifer.)

As I was inhaling my sub (since my lunch break was almost over by the point I found the Subway and took all these pictures) I happened to notice that everyone around me was Asian and sleeping.

So naturally I took pictures of them because they were too busy being passed out to notice/care what I was doing.

Not one, not two, but four, FOUR sleeping asians. Try to spot them all. I found 5 more sawing logs in chairs by the west lounge, so I guess there must have been a tour group or something, but for a moment I was tickled by the idea that I had stumbled upon some sort of Asian Nap Club (like Fight Club but lazier?).

Just to prove to you that you do not have to be pure of spirit to find the Holy Grail Subway, I submit to you the following tastless joke that I heard while stuck in traffic. Still it made me laugh and since I already know I'm going to hell I at least want the devil to have to think up new punishments for me when I have my come uppins. Enjoy.

A woman is waiting in a doctor's office. The doctor enters.

Doctor: I've got bad news.

Woman: Oh no, what is it?

Doctor: Well your test results came back and it looks like you have cancer.

Woman: Are you serious?

Doctor: It gets worse. They also show that you have alzheimers.

Woman: Well that's a relief. At least I don't have cancer!

Burn, baby, burn.

Keep hope alive, you too can find your nearest Subway