Who Writes This Crap?

New Blog

2009-01-17T11:26:00.000-05:00

Oooookay so I suck at updating this one but I have a new blog that is all about fulfilling my new years resolutions so hopefully I don't get too burnt out writing that one too!

If you wanna follow along just let me know and I'll send you the addy.

Laters!

StuckingFupid

Watching my weight... go up!

2008-09-08T21:21:00.005-04:00

So ever since graduating from my masters program, I decided to get my life back in order - eat right, work out, read more, date more. Then I got injured and couldn't work out, and then my schedule got thrown off so I ate out one day, and then I remembered how delicious it was to eat out so I ate out more and more to the point where my pants could have been registered as lethal weapons because the buttons could have flown off at any minute and killed someone. When you feel fat and gross you don't very much feel like dating anyone so it's all just a vicious cycle of bad eating which leads to other poor life decisions. On the plus side I got plenty of reading done, but then again I am a librarian so that doesn't really count for much. Still I was fat and happy and well read!

Now I just want to be happy give or take the books. Unfortunately I am at what some might call an awkward weight. In the gay community I am a sumo wrestler, in the straight community I am a skinny bitch and I would just like to be able to run up the stairs without getting winded so as you can see I am at quite a crossroads. My solution is working out at home so I don't have to be judged by all the fatty fatty 2 by 4s at the gym and won't be distracted by hot guys lifting weights (and any awkward lockerroom showering there after).

The first step of my fitness plan was to stop stuffing my face like a competitive eater and apparently my normal eating habits are starting to pay off. I went out with my friend Handyman (so named because he told me he likes to give out hand jobs - and no I am not one of his hand-i-johns) the other day and he commented that I looked like I had lost weight. I told him I just wear tighter clothes these days (which was true the shirt I was wearing that day had shrunk in the wash but it fit like a dream the day I bought it no wonder that piece of crap was on the clearance rack but so help me God I'll wear it until I get a hole in it but I digress...).

Moments ago I weighed myself and it turns out I lost 5 lbs!

Who knew not eating Snickers for breakfast could have such positive health effects.

Today I started working out again and before you know it I'll be doing AIDS Walks and Marathons the world over... or at the very least I'll be taking the stairs instead of the escalator at work... but lets not get too ahead of ourselves.

2:^)

Thank God I'm Back in the USA!

2008-08-16T07:38:00.002-04:00

Okay... so technically I didn't leave the USA but I can easily argue that I left civilization. While on a business trip, I had the grave misfortune of spending time in the hell mouth known as Herndon, Virginia near scenic Dulles Airport.

The hotel was lovely, I somehow accidentally signed up for a King Executive Suite that overlooked the soccer field where the mens team from San Juan or Guatemala or some other place I couldn't locate on a map were practicing. I had to use a card key to get to my floor which I couldn't figure out the first time and had to use the fire exit to get to my room. If that hadn't worked I probably would have been on the 10 o'clock news as a jumper because I would sooner scale a building than ask for help from the concierge desk.

The trip was miserable but here are some of the highlights of area:

- the tap water tastes like a dirty creek

- English is a second language

- there is indoor smoking EVERYWHERE

- there are 50 cent tolls everywhere, I went to McDonalds down the road and had to pay one

- when I signed my hotel bill I'm almost positive I also swore loyalty to God and Country

I debated kissing the ground when I got home but I thought that would be excessive.

Oh, Maryland My Maryland, I never knew how much I loved thee.

2:^)

Purple Rain

2008-06-11T21:25:00.005-04:00

I was talking to my friend on the phone when my mother brought in some furniture she took from her office. The colors were so loud I couldn't hear the rest of the conversation:

I'd like to title this picture, Crap I'll Inherit When My Parents Roll Off This Mortal Coil or Rest In Peace Grimace:

Sadly there probably isn't even any hope that shit would go up in a fire, it looks pretty flame retardant.

As if the chairs aren't enough, my mother also brought home a matching love seat. Yes, someone made a Barney the Purple Dinosaur colored furniture set of these visual abortions!!!!!ii1i1!i1!

I'm sure I'll look back on this later with amusement some day but until then I'm going to plot ways to haul this junk off in the dump before my sister and I have to fight over who gets what during the will.

"No you take it!"

"No I insist you take it! Mom would have wanted it that way..."

2:^)

Whoops!

2008-05-11T13:28:00.002-04:00

I just destroyed our toaster oven making puff pastry. Gay!

Apparently though you can cook the ham and cheese goodness in a conventional oven in the original plastic tray, this does not translate when reheating them in the toaster oven.

I would have taken a picture but I had to quickly throw the smoldering ball into the nearest waste bin that is after cutting it free from the toaster oven itself.

What a mess. It kind of looked like modern art though I titled it "Modern Man" before pitching it.

And in case you were wondering... the puff pastry tasted undercooked.

I'm sure I have 3 kinds of cancer now.

2:^D

Open Letter to a Jerkface

2008-04-24T07:35:00.002-04:00

Dear You-Know-Who-You-Are,

You sir, are a doucheburgler of the highest order. We dated, you flaked then you come back to me months later trying to rekindle what we never had. You said it was because you were going through a lot of stuff at the time but then later revealed that you had dated (Read: Slept with) 5 people in the 3 months we had been apart.

A few weeks ago you complained that boys don't like you. I corrected you by saying I like you but you rejected me. You replied with an itemized list

You live far away
You're busy all the time
I wasn't able to go out with you
I was pissed you didn't care about my shows

Even though I was always the one who drove to visit you, even though when you weren't working a full-time job you were in practices for a play at all hours of the night, even though you were able to "go out with" 5 other people but weren't able to go out with me, even though it wasn't that I didn't care about your plays but that I was not willing to come see you perform a minor role at a crappy dinner theater performance three counties away for 50 bucks while I was taking 3 graduate level classes, working, doing an internship, running a club, sitting on committees, and fighting on behalf of graduate students at my university - clearly I am at fault.

Rather than say all that though I simply responded: "Maybe boys don't like you because you're a little dramatic" and you stopped talking to me for 2 weeks.

Then one day I get a phone call from you but couldn't answer it as I was in DC and even though they are oftentimes the murder capital of the world, they are quite militant about enforcing their law about handsfree cellphone usage in the car. I would draw less attention from the po-lice performing a driveby than by ordering a pizza on my commute.

When I didn't answer the first time you called back two more times. I finally returned your phone call and the first thing you said was not hi but, "Oh... I actually meant to call someone else who has your name". And you are wondering why I hung up on you.

Yesterday you text me that you want me to come over so I asked if you contacted the right person this time.

Listen up closely because I'll only type this once. If you constantly act like an immature, over-dramatic, self-centered, bipolar dipshit don't be surprised that people reject you even though you're cute and funny and hung or whatever else you consider to be your "finer" qualities.

I would say you should use your stage abilities to fool people into thinking you're not an insensitive dumbass but that's kind like putting lipstick on a pig - you're still dealing with a pig, and frankly you do not have the acting chops.

Go right ahead and continue texting me and calling me, mistakenly or otherwise. This ship has sailed and is not coming back to pick you up. I'm going places in life you're sitting at the docks like the hooker that you are.

I'll explain this to you in terms you will understand - Good luck finding someone willing to pay admissions for the shitshow that is your life.

Wow I feel so much better!

2:^)

I suck at blogging.

2008-04-05T02:13:00.002-04:00

So tonight I was at the gay bar waiting for my friend... who we'll call Redwood because he's tall like a forest (6'6 to be exact).

I was at the coat check and saw him in front of me with some girl. So I do what any reasonable friend would do and gave him a swift hard kick to the back of the leg.

He turns around... gives me an angry look...

And it's then that I realized... I did not kick Redwood... I kicked some stranger...

And after exchanging dirty looks with the stranger I realize I not only kicked soome "strange"r but that the stranger in question... was Redwood's ex... who broke up with him through a text message.... through a friend.

It took use both a second to realize.

Redwood's Ex: Ooooh hi!!

StuckingFupid: Hey there...!

Redwood's Ex: Good to see you again. How are things?

StuckingFupid: Oh good you know... oh hey coat check I'll talk to you later.

Redwood's Ex: See you on the dance floor!

StuckingFupid: Yeah okay!

Needless to say we ignored each other like a check engine light.

2:^)

Be Kind To Your Librarian

2008-01-22T19:42:00.000-05:00

Just because you are retarded and don't know how to use technology does not mean that I do not know the answer to your question. It means you don't understand the answer to your question.

That's why when you ask for my manager and it takes two of my coworkers to figure out what the hell you're talking about and how to respond to your question that you get know where.

You're dumb. Not me.

As for the rest of my patrons, don't use heelies because if you fall/almost fall I will laugh hysterically at you.

I know there's a Papa John's across the street that does not mean you can bring an entire large pizza into the library... or any library ever for that matter.

That is all.

Thank your librarians folks.

2:^)

Adventures In Public Librarianship

2007-11-13T18:53:00.001-05:00

The other day I was walking back to my car when two homeless men started yelling, "Hey Bossman" like any true city boy I didn't acknowledge their existence and scurried to my car. I threw my bookbag in the trunk and jumped into my car.

One of the vagrants came up and tapped me on the window so I did the standard roll the window down far enough they can't get a hand in. Unfortunately I have one of those automatic window roll down things which I can never get to work normally, but it did then and there was nothing but thin air protecting me from a hobo stabbing.

To describe the man he was very hairy, looked like a burn victim and was completely drunk. He even had a sketchy red cup in hand. As he wobbled there looking at me through bleary eyes he started assailing me with questions about where he could get some chicken wings. I told him I was new to the area and really had to get to class which only provoked more questions.

Then he asked to shake my hand which I obliged against my better judgment because in retrospect he probably gave me three types of hepatitis, but I digress...

So he continues to ask me questions about my life and times and then naturally asks me for money which I decline and say something nonchalant like I don't have any money either nothing's free in life haha and then he asked me for a ride which I used as my final way out of this conversation saying I had to go to school now.

So he asked me to shake his hand again and since I'd already done it once I figured I couldn't get anymore communicable diseases than I already did and as he's holding my hand he goes...

"Can I kiss yo hand?"

I squealed and said, "Absolutely not!" Then laughed hysterically as I rolled up my window so he couldn't even squeeze a finger in. He was laughing too repeating "Aboslutely not bwhahahahaha" and he asked if he'd see me again.

Such is a day in the life of me... I love public libraries for even more reasons now. More stories to come...

2:^)

Adventures in Dating Part 309845085

2007-11-03T11:37:00.000-04:00

I recently went out to coffee with an adorable Indian man who is about 10 years my senior.

Unfortunately he has 3 strikes against him already which has nothing to do with his age or the fact he doesn't understand half of what I say. Words like kegger, douchebag, and skanky are just a few of the language barriers we have to overcome.

These are the least of my concerns.

While out at dinner he told me that he wants to date someone that his mother will approve of.
The catch being he's NOT OUT TO HIS PARENTS YET.

We were then sitting on his couch and talking. We'd had a glass of wine before going to the restaurant, had a glass of wine at the restaurant and then went back to his place where he offered me a night cap - another glass of wine. I do believe he underestimated my drinking abilities because he was HAMMERED and asking me all sorts of personal questions, which I hesitatingly obliged to answer. Except then he said something weird, "I have only been with one person in the one way and the other two in the other." I asked him what he meant by that, "You mean top or bottom?"

He replied, "Oh no that is too forward. I mean anal or oral." To which I thought for a moment and said, "So have you done anal?"

To which his reply was "I half had sex, it hurt too much we didn't do it."

So he's half a virgin!

Then... perhaps the most perturbing, yet somehow fitting event occurred (strike 3 if you're keeping track at home). I was able to look past everything he had said up to this point until he leaned in for a kiss... and then started kissing my neck and then got all Hands Across America.

Sounds hot right?

It is except when HE DOESN'T OPEN HIS MOUTH.

I'm sure it looked like a 1930s movie kiss because then he insisted we go back to his bed, which I thought maybe he'll part the Red Sea then BUT NO. More closed mouth "kissing".

I think this might have something to do with the fact that he is deathly afraid of getting hepatitis C and won't date a guy with tattoos as a result... but still! I'm no whore but I do insist you stick your tongue down my throat.

In other dating news. I was hanging out with my newest online friend - a conductor! He has a really gay Puerto Rican friend who he always goes out with who always ends up running off and talking to some random guys and ditching him. Every single time they go out this happens.

So last night the two of them were going out for cheap drinks and some dancing and he invited me along because he has abandonment issues now.

To make what could be a long story short - Mr. Conductor starts dancing with some guy and making out with him effectively DITCHING ME and the meantime Puerto Rican and I are hanging out and we start making out. (And I was kind of obsessed with this guy before I met him because he has a funny name).

We have a date on the Lord's day, assuming he remembers me from last night.

Essentially I am the UN. I've only been dating foreigners lately and I think I am the last vestige of foreign diplomacy in the United States.

I'm now against Immigration Laws.

2:^)

Oh double dating

2007-10-23T19:09:00.000-04:00

Yet another milestone in my adventures in dating I went out with two guys at the same time.... lemme explain.

So a month or so back I went out with someone who was essentially bald, had shark teeth, and didn't have any boundaries. He touched me a lot, he harassed our poor waitress into giving me a free canoli for accidentally throwing away my doggie bag (which I most likely wouldn't have eaten anyway) and then he revealed himself to be the biggest apologist for the craziest professor at my undergraduate institution.

And yet I went on a second date with that slice...

Then there's my latest a young man that goes to a college near my house. He's an undergrad and we were talking online when he asked me out on a date.

So I really wanted to go out on Saturday and no one was around. The Usual Suspects were all busy and I alienated all my other friends who like to party. So in my desperation and because I remembered I had told him I'd call him days before, I called the undergrad to see how life was. He was so awkward and quiet on the phone I told him my whole life story twice and then told him I had to go even though I had just told him how bored I was and wanted to go out.

I called my friend to tell him what a socially awkward dweeb he is and in the meantime he signs on to ask me if he scared me off. I explained he's very quiet and he stated that he's very shy so eventually the urge to go out overwhelmed me and I asked him out. There was an unfortunate series of events that folllowed...

STRIKE 1: He told me he didn't have a car so he couldn't meet me out.

Sure he may have knifed me buuut I agreed to come pick up this stranger from the slum he lives in.

STRIKE 2: His response after that was "Is this your treat :-)?"

I'm not sure if I'm more annoyed by the use of emoticons or the cheapskate question itself.

From all of this I concluded that he might be a homeless man but I really really wanted to go out. But now that I committed I realized this could be an evening of us staring longingly into each others eyes because he is practically a mute.

Now recently date 1 (who got me a free canoli) had been hounding me about a 3rd date and he's always very talkative so...

Yes... I invited him along. I told them both the other would be there but the hilarity ensued.

Date 2 was a little more talkative but he doesn't really like bars and this particular night was zombie tour and they were playing things like the soundtrack from Rocky Horror Picture Show. My back started to hurt from carrying the conversation which was fortunate because who should appear - Date 1!

He came in gave me a hug and then offered to buy all of us beers. Date 2 didn't say a word the rest of the night. In the meantime I made the mistake of wearing a shirt with button snaps and made a joke about it. Date 2 was flirting with me lots and trying to touch me as per usual which was rebuffed. Then mid conversation he RIPS HALF MY SHIRT OFF. Luckily I was fast before a boob popped out but still... from there he started asking one of the barbacks why he wasn't shirtless and then without skipping a beat turns to Date 1 to say "YOU ARE SO QUIET"!

To which he characteristically replied with a shrug.

Soon I asked Date 2 if he would like to leave and he said "I'm ready to go if you are"

And Date 1 goes "That means he wants to go"

So we did.

And the night worked out great! Date 2 got the picture I don't want to go out with him anymore and Date 1 I don't have to worry about breaking it off because he only speaks when spoken to (half the time).

Who knew double dating was such a problem solver!

2:^)

Oh what a life

2007-09-30T16:24:00.000-04:00

Friday I went to a party and there was a girl with one blood red eye. We were playing a little game called circle of death and a few drinks in she was not paying attention so I called her 28 Days Later to get her attention.

As retribution, the gods smought me in the form of a young guitarist who pulled out his "axe" and started playing. My tone deaf friend joined in singing the words and pretty soon every dumbass in the room was shredding my ear drums. An hour into this I started to fall asleep on the sofa when one of the strings broke on the guitar. Things were looking up until one of the housemates said, "I've got a guitar upstairs".

Not only did they come back with a guitar, they came back with THREE guitars and the kumbaya continued so I went to bed.

The night of drinking and debauchery let me completely drained I took a 3 hour nap only to be awoken by a phone call by friends who were already drunk at 8 o'clock and wanted me to come over. After insulting my profession and throwing a couple names out there I was convinced to come over, where we did a power hour, shot gunned some beers in front of two police cars and then I wrestled a girl to the ground. Unfortunately she overpowered me and MOTORBOATED me like the motorboating mother fugger that she is.

The night ended with a movie and then the motorboater went to her bedroom with some boy boy she picked up off the streets (I forget where). Apparently there hawt night of passion involved bad making out. She had to do everything and then he started giggling only to reveal he is a virgin and then he laid there like a rock while she tried to kiss him some more. Eventually she gave up and rolled over. He left her a Dear John later saying he had a good time. She's thinking about giving him a second chance to see if he was a bad kisser because he was drunk, but signs point to no because she doesn't want to go taking anybody's cherry any time soon.

In other news I am dating someone, he is half black and all man. I like him lots but I haven't seen him in over a week and he's being a weirdo so I might be back on the market fellas. Mothers lock up your sons! Stuckingfupid on the loose!

2:^)

Sideshow (Shitshow) Bob

2007-09-07T11:27:00.000-04:00

My friend Sideshow Bob, for all intense and purposes, is a walking palm tree. He's 6'6, thin as a rail, and has big curly hair.

Ever since he got contacts he has decided that everyone is always "cruising" him including a friend of a friend of mine who is not into giants.

Sideshow Bob is what some may call a professional drinker. Beer is like mother's milk to him and liquor is the air he breathes. He is notorious for getting rip-roaring drunk and disappearing or getting naked... usually both. Two weeks ago was no exception.

I drove Sideshow Bob to local gay bar where he generously paid for all my drinks while we waited for some other friends to arrive and after a few rounds of Nudey Picture Hunt, we went to another bar to dance the night away. This is when the night took a turn for the worse.

Sideshow was already obliterated by this point and was continuing to drink. At one point he turns and sees a man with a Navy insignia on his shirt and drunkenly leaves the group to go try and make out with this Hot Navy Guy.

When I say Hot Navy Guy I, of course, mean a man old enough to be Sideshow's great, great grandfather who was obviously attached to another man who Sideshow burst between to try to woo. The best part is that Hot Navy Guy was approximately 5'6 and Sideshow was stooping down so his face was right at his level.

After several failed attempts at making out with Hot Navy Guy, he moved onto Hot Navy Guy's boyfriend who was shirtless on the speakers with a shirtless gaysian. We turn around to find Sideshow also shirtless, trying to dance with these two who are not having any of it and slowly edging away from him. At some point, Sideshow tried to undo the belt buckle on the gaysian's pants and they all ran off the stage. Sideshow remained, dancing like the spirit moved him and ackwardly dropping it like it's hot while beckoning people to come dance with him. It didn't help that he's very skinny but with a bit of a gut which makes him look a little bit like a starving Africa baby with edema.

He soon returned and we made him put his shirt back on. He asked if we wanted rinks, we said no and told him he shouldn't either. He ran off and came back with beers for everyone which we begrudgingly accepted because otherwise he'd drink them all. Pretty soon he threw himself on top of me and said "Shhhhh I hooked up with that guy over there and I want him to think that you're my boyfriend he has a small penis". So I cringed and tried to chug my beer while he nuzzled me with his neck. The man wasn't even acknowledging Sideshows existence but for some reason this was absolutely necessary.

Before the night was over he was back on stage, shirtless, trying to make out with another guy who was a little more into it but then he continued to throw himself at Navy guy and his boyfriend who were happily dancing together when Sideshow sidled up to them and bear hugging them from the side. We soon had to leave and he insisted on going to a diner down the street for pizza which I practically had to carry him to and definitely had to help him sign the receipt (he ordered 2, 20 inch pizzas for 4 people).

From there we sat down where he set his head down on the table and passed out. The whole room was nervous and appalled at our indifference to our friend who we've seen in this state more times than we can count. One of my friends offered to go pull the car around which I said would be a good idea, after I sat Sideshow up in the table and he just sat there slumped and unresponsive, only a snore as a sign of life.

People offered to help carry him out of the diner but I said it was fine we'd be leaving soon and he was actually alright to which they nervously watched me. Soon our order was called and our friend came back with the car.

More horror as we went and put the pizza in the car and then came back for Sideshow haha

Eventually we got him up and he was walking around and puking all over the hotel across the street. One of the guys Sideshow had made out with before came over to see if he was alright. A homeless man did too and then proceeded to ask us for a dollar.

And of course, the next morning Sideshow completely unapologetic does not remember a bloomin' thing.

And this is just a few of the many reasons I need new gay friends. My first step is volunteering at a LGBT community center but knowing my luck they'll all be lesbians or recovering alcoholics or working off their DWI community service hours or something and all my humanitarian efforts will be a bust!

I guess I might also get the satisfaction of getting to help people or some crap like that but what's the good of donating your time and energy if you're not getting anything out of it.

Harumph!

My orientation is this afternoon so I will have to keep my dear diary posted.

2:^)

Hellooooooooo

2007-09-01T08:50:00.001-04:00

I've got so much to tell you about diary and so little time.

First I would just like to note my love life or lack there of. I now have, what I refer to as, a Statue of Liberty dating policy. By that I mean, bring me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses and I'll date'm... at least once! I will not discriminate based on race, ethnicity, religion, country of origin, physical appearance and so forth, just gender and age. Sorry 65 year old tranny stores closed! 23 year old guy who looks like battery acid was thrown in your face? Open for business!

Secondly, I felt like a homewrecker the other day. Barring I never met someone dateable I am on a quest to make more gay friends and here is why.

THESE ARE THE GAYS OF OUR LIVES

A Chronological Timeline of my Love/Hate Relationship with the Pianist:

I first met the Pianist a few months back on gay.com. We chatted a bit and exchanged numbers so one day when I was in his neighborhood at the local gay bars with my geishas I contacted him so we could finally meet in person. He was already there when we arrived, drinking scotch and smoking cigarettes. Pretty soon that volatile combination hit him hard and he had to run off.

The second time I met him was when one of my geishas (that's what I call my two asian fag hags) and I decided to ditch some friends at a bar. We were having a miserable time, stepped outside for some air, and randomly decided to leave to go to a gay bar without telling anyone... a 40 dollar taxi later and we were in! I texted Pianist to meet us there and in the meantime we ran around drinking and talking to strangers. While at the gay bar, we met a slightly balding guy and his friend. Pianist finally arrived and we went to the dance floor. I was dancing with Pianist and we were getting kind of Hands Across America with one another, when the balding guy kept trying to dance with us. Eventually Pianist and I started making out and that gave a pretty clear sign that neither of us was interested. I then turned to find my geisha also making out with a gay man. >:^O Eventually we parted ways and Pianist and I wouldn't see each other until a few weeks later.

Then was when we first went out to dinner together. He'd called me about mid afternoon to see if I would like to go to dinner with him and I jumped at the chance even though it meant I wouldn't be able to eat until at least 10 o'clock at night. So we went to a local pizza place by my house which is very delicious and more importantly cheap. He asks me what's good so I tell him and as I'm going to hand out my money he insists on paying for me. We had a great conversation, we devoured our pizza, and then he wanted to dessert so we headed down the street in my car where he also paid. When we got back into my car we said goodbye and he demanded a kiss on the cheek which I happily obliged.

We hung out a couple of times since then and it was all very flirty and fun. Sometimes he wouldn't come out though because he said he had money issues. I said I am a graduate student with about 38,000 dollars in loans out so I am the last person to complain about that to and he said he had loans out too.

A week later we hung out again just me and him at the bar to watch some karaoke. He got rip roaring drunk and was telling me about this guy he went out on a bad date with recently and how he had just seen him at the bars. This kind of bothered me and the rest of the night he was being completely plastered, we went down the street to a diner where he told me how great his fuck buddy is, how he's had so much sex in his life the condoms would completely cover the table we were sitting at, started bragging about his penis size, and then started asking me all these personal questions and tried inviting into his house but then said he couldn't because the place was messy. Needless to say, I was not pleased and he knew it even in his drunken state. I went home and he instant messaged me to say don't be mad at me. So I finally confessed that I have a crush on him and that's why I don't like it when he talks about that sort of stuff around me. His reaction was weird, not really a I like you too but more of an aww isn't that cute. Not a good sign but not a complete rejection so I take what I can get and he was really drunk so he was not within his faculties.

He continued sending me mixed singals for the next couple of weeks sometimes saying he wanted to be with me or wanted me to come over and cuddle with him and other times talking about guys he liked. At some point I upset him somehow and he refused to talk to me for about a week until I finally apologized for whatever it was that I did.

All came to a head about a few weeks ago when I was out at the bars with some other gay friends. I texted Pianist to meet us out and when I came I went to hug him but he awkwardly held me at arms length as he explained he'd done something really stupid. So he got a drink, got me a drink, and we talked about it. He told me that he had paid off his tuition but he used the wrong account and now he was horribly overdrawn. It was a stupid mistake and he got one of his four accounts confused. I thought this was a little odd though because if they all were his accounts I didn't really see this as an enormous crisis and then it triggered. "Does someone pay your tuition for you?" His face instantly changed from a devastated look to an uneasy grin as he tried to explain that his GRANDMOTHER PAYS HIS TUITION FOR HIM. So all those times he told me he didn't have the money he did, and on top of that he was still taking out 60K in loans because it was "free money" free at least when you're the sole inheritor of your grandmother's will. Needless to say I kind of screamed at him like a howler monkey, but eventually Hurricane StuckingFupid eventually subsided into a tropical storm and we were able to go back to our normal ways. He kept trying to put his hands all over me but it was kind of awkward because we were in a public place and my friends were there looking at us. At some point one of the Pianist's friends came in (who we'll call Blondy ) and my friend who we'll call Sideshow Bob was instantly attracted to him. We were all talking but Blondy had to go to the billiards side of the bar to meet up with his roommate. Sideshow Bob chased after him and then it was just me Pianist and a few of my other friends. Pianist eventually left me with his keys and phone while he ran off to get a drink, but after about a half an hour he was still missing. Eventually Pianist comes back to get his wallet and keys and says "I need my things I'm trying to sleep with [Blondy's] roommate".

Me and the other guys get bored so we go over to the pool size and watch them play. Sideshow Bob is awkwardly throwing himself at Blondy, Pianist is unsuccessfully throwing himself at Blondy's roommate, and I am afraid the smell of desperation will set into my clothing. All the time Pianist keeps looking over to me and blowing kisses and stuff. He knows I'm mad but not sure why. Soon it's closing time, we leave the bar and go to the diner. Pianist comes with us even though he has "no money". Before we leave he tries to get me to come back to his place, kisses me on the cheek, and I tell him to get lost. I call him later to say why I'm upset with him and he awkwardly replies with something like "you just aren't aggressive enough" but I was too tired of drama and threw my phone down. I later signed on and he kept harassing me so I brought up how I didn't like that he lied about not having any money (for me lying about little things is worse than lying about big things) and how that bothered me. He called me psycho and I decided to take a page out of his book and ignore him for a couple of days.

In the meantime, I logged onto gay.com and started chatting with a few new guys. One was a lobbyist and he was very funny and friendly but hard to say whether he was attractive or not. Good thing I had my Statue of Liberty dating policy to fall back on. He said I looked familiar for some reason but I thought that was just a line to make conversation.We continued talking over the next day or two.

After a few days of me ignoring him Pianist finally texts me, calls me, and then instant messages me when he sees that I am online. It's late at night and I'm also talking to the guy from gay.com setting up our date, I tell him hold on because I need to sort out my issue with Pianist which he starts asking me about.

Pianist very confused about why I'm upset with him and he said it's strange because he feels bad like I've disappointed him and he normally doesn't feel that way about people so I must be a special person in his life. He thought I had expectations of him that were unrealistic like "not being a whore or being mortifyingly honest" I explained to him I only have 3 expectations of my friends. 1) Be open and honest with me 2) be loyal to me and 3) be considerate of my feelings and I didn't feel like he'd done any of those things. He didn't seem to understand he said "You don't seem upset with me you seem frustrated with the situation, that you like me and I won't reciprocate". So finally he admits that feelings aren't mutual. That's all I wanted him to say since it became obvious after he tried to blatantly pick up someone in front of me that feelings weren't mutual. So I explained that my real issue was that he wouldn't just tell me he just liked me as a friend. Instead he did all this immature bullshit rather than being 1) open and honest with me. He realized what he'd done told me "wow I'm a jerk" and promised to do his best. He also said the reason he did it was besides from thinking it was "obvious" which regardless still misses the point that I like people to be direct with me, that he was afraid of losing me as a friend.

Meanwhile I'm telling this guy from gay.com about Pianist and as I'm describing him he goes... "Wait... does he have black hair?" I showed him Pianist's myspace and he goes "Yep that's the one" So I begin asking him how they know each other and he confesses for "full disclosure" that they hooked up. When I told him define "hooked up" he says "I consider it to be any time you do anything sexual with a person and never talk to them again". So I ask him if that means they had sex and he said Yes.

At this point things are obviously ruined between us so I ask him for more pictures which he willingly sends along and who should this fool be. That balding guy that was trying to dance with the Pianist and me that night we made out!!!

Needless to say things really haven't been the same with the Pianist since. We hung out once but I couldn't dismiss how angry I was with him so it was an awkward night. He tried to pay for my drinks to make me 10% less mad but I explained I was already at "110%" so that wasn't really going to help. He then took me out for Korean even though I've explained to him that I'm a food white supremacist and was very mad at me when I wouldn't let him buy me a meal. He didn't speak to me the next couple of days. And I don't think things will ever really be the same.

I've only really got 4 good gay friends (which I would have included Pianist in that before this debacle). So one down...

TO BE CONTINUED... Next Up My Debatable Friendship With Sideshow Bob.

2:^)

Operation: Discipline

2007-08-02T19:22:00.001-04:00

Okay so I didn't write last month like I said I would and I'm too lazy to recap what I was talking about in my last entry, mostly because I feel like peoples imaginations will come up with something way more fun than what actually happened.

With that said, at the end of this semester I am commencing with Operation: Discipline!

(And yes I am well aware that is probably the name of some S&M Army Fatigue fetish site but I don't care.)

Basically I love to write.

I never have time to write.

If I never make time to write, I will never have time to write.

So coming September 1st I vow, so help me Jebus, that I will write in this blog once a week.

This will force moi to become a more disciplined writer (see what the discipline comes in?)

That or I will be writing another one of these types of entries on October 1st.

2:^)

Ugggh

2007-06-30T12:33:00.000-04:00

So I have been working 4o hours a week at an evil defense contractor I might have a second job soon and today I woke up on my bathroom floor. Must have had a good night! Hence the uggh this morning/evening.

That's all she wrote for now.

Thanks Polt!

2:^P

Whooops!

2007-05-31T20:20:00.000-04:00

Before Polt runs around telling everyone I died, I decided to honor my blog-once-a-month-even-if-it-kills-me pledge that I made for no reason in some other entry (possibly my last entry) that I am way too lazy to go back and look at.

While I could fill you in on all of the exciting stuff I've been up to like school (Straight A's!), work (shelving my pants off!), or partying (I've been hanging out with my good friend Jose Cuervo way more than I'd like to admit), I know what the people want.

Sordid tales of my love life! And I am here to deliver.

The other day I think I accidentally went on a date.

Now my friend, who we shall call the Pianist, is a great all around guy - cute, funny, smart, and a good kisser (I may have fallen into his mouth, tongue first at a gay bar). Then there's that whole he's sleeping with his neighbor, said he doesn't want to be in a relationship, has more neuroses than a psych ward side of him which one might call his negative qualities.

We frequently go to happy hour and dinner just to hang out and talk because we enjoy each other's company so when he invited me out the other night for dinner I thought this day was like any other platonic and friendly.

He made me pick the eatery (cheap pizza it is) and offered to pick me up but I said that I had to put gas in my car so I would meet him there.

We get there, he asks me what's good, I make my recommendations and ordered the food. I then went to pull out my wallet and he goes "No, put that away" *smacks hand* "I will cover this".

I protested but he was very insistent and I am very poor so I let him do it. So we waited for our meal, ate of the deliciousness that is cheap pizza in a dirty restaurant and then he wanted to get dessert. It was 9 o'clock at night so I told him our options were limited and he was very insistent on having some sort of diabetic nightmare soaked in chocolate sauce and covered in sprinkles. I knew just the place - shithole diner conveniently located across the street (an 8 lane street which he wanted to walk to but because I hate the environment and love oil/living to see tomorrow I drove us over there insisting there was no crosswalk).

After consuming ice cream and cheesecake (that almost cost as much as our meal) the check came... AND HE PICKED IT UP AGAIN!

From there I drove him back to his car (in which he freaked out because he saw there was, indeed a crosswalk) and when we got to the parking lot he asked me for a kiss on the cheek. From there we went our merry little ways.

Now I took a poll and there was general consensus that it was a date, that I was the woman on the date, and that I should have given him a blow job at the very least for buying me dinner.

My friends' are whores what do they know.

Any thoughts people?

2:^)

It Ain't Easy Being Easy

2007-04-01T09:28:00.000-04:00

So I think I'm in love with this guy I met at a bar. He's hilarious, he's cute, he's employed, he's got all of his original teeth! And I think he may even be into me (or wants to be into me heyooooo).

Our wedding should be scheduled for June, right?

How can something with someone so seemingly perfect go so perfectly wrong? Sure I have a tradition of being attracted to the most jacked up dregs of society but this humble little fellow seems well rounded and interested in the same things that I am.

That is until I found out that in his perfect little past he took a strong interest in a little something the kids on the streets are calling CRYSTAL METH!

And of course for some reason finding this out about him made me that much more attracted to him so I think my only choice in life now is to go cloister myself until the rapture when God has weeded out all the sociopaths, drug abusers, and prostitutes - or as I like to call them my usual dating pool.

*Le sigh*

2:^)

Causing Drama While I'm Not Even Conscious

2007-03-04T19:48:00.000-05:00

Friday Night: Best. Night. Ever!

Sneaking out of a bar
Befriending a Pakistani cab driver named Sunny
Driving to a Gay bar
5 Tequila shots later
Dancing
Making out
Groping
'Nough Said.

Saturday Night: Worst. Night. Ever!

This one is going to require some explaining (haha even though I know you'd rather here about Friday night. 2;^)

So we go to a spanish bar with some of our friends and me and my friend Lili are having a horrendously bad time. We had pregamed before going so we were thoroughly trash but once there we were surrounded by greasy strangers and decided to sit down in the corner.

It was all good and well, I shut my eyes Lili rested her head on my lap when some guy comes up to her. Meanwhile I'm listening to this entire conversation.

Latino Guido: Hey you should take your boyfriend home!

Lili: Umm he's not my boyfriend.

Latino Guido: He's sleeping he shouldn't be here.

He then proceeds to HIT ME ON MY FOREHEAD to "wake me up".

Latino Guido: Hey man wake up you should go home you are sleeping.

Your Hero: I wasn't sleeping I was resting my eyes.

Latino Guido: Resting your eyes whatever, you should go home.

At this point our friend who is 6 foot 5 and in the army, starts in on the conversation.

Knight In Shining Armor (KISA): Hey man, how are you going to disrespect my friend like that. Who goes up to someone and wacks them on the head while they're sleeping.

Your Hero: I wasn't sleeping!

At this point they begin to argue with one another. My Knight in Shining Armor is demanding that the Latino Guido apologize. Latino Guido refuses and then starts using air quotes when he refers to my "resting my eyes". Hmmph!

Finally Knight In Shining Armor backed down a little and said.

KISA: Alright well if you're not going to apologize could you at least move down about 2 feet that way so you're not standing on top of him.

He was practically standing between my legs. I contemplated giving him a dollar for a lap dance but I'm pretty sure I'd get whatever the Mexican equivalent of gonorrhea is.

Latino Guido: Yeah okay I'll move. *Stays put, smiles, and drinks his beer*.

At this point, KISA stands up fuming mad and I attempt to defuse the situation.

Your Hero: Seriously could you just move a foot you're kind of in my personal space.

Latino Guido: No. *Sips beer*

At this point there were some serious daggers in my eyes.

Your Hero: Ooookay well I'm going to stand up now so you're making room regardless.

And I pushed him out of my way and stood next to KISA who was even more furious. From there I called my friend who was on the other side of the bar and told her we're going.

The best part though is that the Latino Guido was trying to mack on one of my friends the entire night and she was the first person to come to me to ask what happened.

Your Hero: He *points* is being a big douchebag.

Needless to say, he did NOT look happy as I recreated the whole story for her.

Lesson to you fellas. If there's one person you don't mess with in a group of girls it is their gay. Piss off a boyfriend, you might get beat down, mess with a homo and he'll turn everyone in the immediate area against you for the rest of your life.

Love my ladies.

Love my life.

Hope everyone is doing well.

2:^)

So Many Trannys

2007-02-09T16:46:00.000-05:00

So last Friday I went to my first gay club with my asian hags and we had a fantastic time. The gays are friendly, funny, and shirtless a lot. What is there not to love?

Somehow my Asian hags got more digits and compliments than I did. One was told she had a J-lo booty, and the others became the love of a drag queen. I'm not complaining though because a very pretty boy gave me his number. I decided to wait a few days to call him as I didn't want the stink of desperation to somehow make its way through the telephone. Besides I was at my alma mater all weekend and I did have time between rounds of Beertleship to yakkity yak so I called him on Monday all nervous and excited and a quiver with anticipation.

After anxiously dialing his number he, to my relief, actually picked up the phone not the local Dunkin Donuts employee as I had suspected. From there I remind him who I am and his response was "Oh... OH I remember you now haha" to which I replied "You dork".

It's a fine art this seduction is. I thought to myself that this is a fine start if we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

So I talk and ask him questions which he gives short terse responses. When he's done talking he doesn't ask any questions there's just dead silence which I tried to fill with mindless rambling. Which if my blog is any indication of my abilities, I am very good at that. Still I was so taken aback by his awkwardness I literally had to regroup so I told him I'd call him back making some lame excuse about my male best friend having woman issues or something. From there I talk to my friend Ditz who was with me at the bar, and she gave me some suggestions which I had already applied. So I thought about something interesting I could talk about (mentally insane and criminal library patrons) and called him back. Normally such a story has my friends rolling, however with this guy my remarks were greeted with a palpable silence. So I told him I had to go because it was 9 o'clock and I had grad school work to do and promptly hung up before he could respond.

I checked my cell phone and both calls together equaled approximately 6 minutes total.

4 minutes 10 seconds was me talking

30 seconds was him talking

1 minute and 20 seconds was dead air

Which makes me draw the following conclusions:

A) He's completely disinterested in me and gave me his number just to be nice/an asshole.
B) He is socially retarded and does not know how to carry on a conversation (he is a computer programmer after all).
C) He's a mute.
D) He couldn't talk too much because his wife would hear and start asking questions...again.

Regardless of the reason, I promptly deleted his number from my cell phone.

Speaking of boys, I just had words with my coworker because he is still dating that man he degifted tickets to Wicked for, but now is making out with some questionable police officer on the side who I now call the Pig.

So he tells me how he made out lots with The Pig and I asked him if he was going to tell his BOYFRIEND the midget about that.

He said they are just dating not boyfriends.

I said that's funny because you used the fact that he was your boyfriend as justification for not going with me to see the play.

To which he apologized for any confusion because he meant dating, which is pretty convenient that he said this man was his boyfriend in order to justify degifting me, but suddenly not his boyfriend when his tongue is down another man's throat.

At this point he asks "are you pissed at me" to which I replied "not pissed but annoyed" and he oh ok. I tried to soften the blow by saying "but it's not hard to annoy me", however he started laughing and bringing up really trivial examples of me being annoyed with other people so I told him "just because it doesn't take much to annoy me doesn't mean this only annoys me a little bit".

Minus a few words here or there we haven't talked.

He seems like such a nice guy buuuuuuuuut... who doesn't like to think they're a good person.

Anywho the title of this entry is brought to you by the fact I was at a straight club and was going to the bathroom when I was haulted by a transvestite who was guarding the door for some girls who couldn't get off their asses and walk to the ladies room. There was a line of guys waiting and all of them were bitching, while the Tranny danced in front of the door to keep them at bay.

It wasn't until I walked up to Mister Sister and told her to check on them and tell them to wrap it up that she actually listened and cleared out of the bathroom.

Got to love the allowances that being a flaming gay man and a big bitch allow you.

Note to straight guys and moral of the story - make gay friends because you never know when you'll run into a drag queen trying to bar you from using the facilities.

2:^)

My Latest Scheme

2007-01-22T19:53:00.000-05:00

Three weeks ago my coworker offered me a ticket for Wicked. He had bought the tickets because he thought he'd have a boyfriend by now but as luck should have it he was all alone. Just like me. So when he said he'd like me to go with him, I greedily accepted his offer. He had also been wanting me to show him the sights around Charm City so we would be killing two birds with one stone. If there's nothing I like more than hanging out with friends it's multitasking and day planning!

Filled with delight I went ahead and starting finalizing our little excursion. It was to be this weekend.

About two weeks ago my coworker started chatting with a man on gay.com. Apparently they have lots in common. Both from small towns, both have ministry backgrounds, blah blah blah. They've seen each other twice and then this weekend they had a date to watch Devil Wears Prada together. It's all my coworker could talk about all day Friday as I helped him move all of his worldly possessions into his new apartment. I nearly threw myself from his terrace when he stopped to read me a text message from him.

So they had their little date and then I get this jewel in my inbox last night:

Hi [Stuckingfupid],

I momentarily have email...If it storms bad and campus closes tomorrow (in the off chance...) call me ok. I'm so isolated without tv OR internet. lol.

Seriously.

So, glad you came down on Friday. I really appreciated your help and your company, it was fun and much less stressful than if I'd been by myself.

So, last night's date went really well....Tell you about it tomorrow.

AND...So, will you hate me if I ask [My New Midget Boyfriend] to see Wicked? I hope not. I suppose I'd get over it though. lol.

No, seriously, it's why, when I told you about them, that I said "if I don't have a date". I gave $80 a ticket so I'd like to take a date who I might get some action out of afterwards. lol. I haven't asked him yet, but if he says no, you are at the top of the list. And if I don't come up next weekend, we will set another Saturday immediately for my official debut on the Baltimore scene.

Ok?

Good night best friend,

[My Stupid Coworker] smile.

To which I kindly responded:

Yay momentary email. I'll be sure to call you if campus closes.

About the tickets yes I'd hate you but they're yours to do what you want with. If we don't hang out this weekend it might not be for awhile because the weekend after that I'm visiting friends in [at my alma mater] and then after that I can't make any promises because of grad school soooo it might have to wait until summer when I'm not busy.

This morning he made it official and told me that his New Midget Boyfriend had accepted his offer, which makes me think that he had already asked him and was just being nice in that email because he also mentioned that he was so torn up about this that he had to ring up his Alcoholics Anonymous sponsor for some guidance.

All of this had to have happened sometime between the hours of 9:30 Sunday night and 7:30 Monday morning when I called him to tell him we were late for work. It's possible but... it doesn't take Batman to question this caper.

So he tells me he's going with the Midget and I said, okay well I'm glad you told me this now so I can make plans with my friends I haven't seen in months.

He then told me what his AA sponsor had said about all this:

"Would you rather take your boyfriend or your girlfriend? Take your boyfriend."

I may be a bitch. And I may have a little of the flame. But I detest nothing more than being referred to as a girlfriend, a woman, anything. I left a lunch table and went and sat with strangers for months freshman year of highschool because a kid said "he's not gay he's just a girl". While I think it's all good and well to have the milk bags and a hooha, it's very insulting to belittle someone's masculinity even if they're gay and kind of a big woman anyway. I wanted to eat his face in that very moment. I'm pretty sure my hatred was palpable as he decided to change the subject and tell me about his weekend which consisted of him spending time sitting on a couch at his friend's house. It was soon after I asked him why he wasted my time with that story that he left the room and we didn't speak to each other the rest of the day.

I suppose I am being a little bit immature but the whole situation is distressing. First, I don't like hearing every stupid thing he says to his boyfriend because they are neither interesting nor cute. Second, I feel slighted as he has abandoned me who he has known since September, and spends at least 20 hours a week with, for some guy he's known a little less than 2 weeks and has only met in person 3 times. Third, I need a man.

Which brings me upon my latest scheme: A fitness plan.

Today I decided to jump on the elliptical machine to work off a little hatred and while it didn't work I feel damn good about myself which is always a plus. It felt so good in fact I've decided that I am going to try to work out at least 3 to 4 times a week so now when I say that in my online profiles it will actually be true! That is until I get a boyfriend.

I call this new workout plan Get Healthier or Get A Boyfriend.

Something tells me I'm going to be VERY healthy.

*Le Sigh*

But maybe that'll help me get a boyfriend. It's a like one of those paradoxes which came first the chicken or the egg... but in that situation I've also thought to ask "That depends... which one was the man".

I'm here all night.

2:^)

My Life: The Comedy

2007-01-19T21:32:00.000-05:00

So here's a story about three little pigs and not that stupid one with the wolf.

The first little piggy is a Jewish hairstylist-in-training with a belly button ring. He has a faux hawk and is very pretty/gay. I went to coffee with him and we got along great I even bought the book Running with Scissors upon his suggestion which is very good. We have a lot in common. We have great conversations.

I soon began to realize, that the first little piggy never initiated conversations with me so I decided to do a little test. I would not message the first little piggy again until he messaged me.

I have not spoken with him since.

Which takes us to the second little piggy I went on a date with. The second little piggy is an auditor who works about 60 hours a week, he's slightly portly, but is a great person all around. I was not attracted to the second little piggy but I thought I'd give it to shot because I haven't been on a date in awhile and I don't like to reject people outright. I started talking to the second little piggy on a Monday, we planned a date for Sunday, and on Friday he was already asking me if I wanted to be his boyfriend. By Sunday he was probably already picking a flower girl for our Commitment Ceremony.

It became clear on Sunday, when we met at a goofy diner in Charm City, that there was no chance that I would ever be attracted to him despite the fact he has all the qualities I am looking for in a man. The connection just wasn't there.

He later asked if I had a good time with him and I explained how I thought he is a great catch but not for me and tossed him back in the ocean. He was devastated and told me he's glad he didn't call his mother because he was going to tell her all about me!

I narrowly escaped the clutches of that clingy monster.

He still wants to be friends and is convinced I will eventually fall in love with him but there aren't enough psychotropic drugs in the free world to ever force that to happen. He has insisted we hang out this weekend and I've already built up a solid wall of excuses not to.

My hopes are that I can stall hanging out with him to the point he gets over me or at the very least says he's over me while in actuality he still touches himself to my MySpace profile.

Finally there is the third little piggy. He's a classically trained pianist studying at one of the most prestigious schools in the world, has kind of a beak on him but is still cute nonetheless. He told me I was cute too and that he wants to meet me for coffee.

Unfortunately this was after he revealed that his neighbor is his FUCK BUDDY and a few weeks ago he made out with a bar tender that he's in love with.

Tonight he tried to convince me to go a gay bar with him. When I said I couldn't he said I had to because his bar tender/fantasy boyfriend (who gave him his number last night) would be there. When I asked why I should care, he said that he would need someone to talk to while the bar tender is busy serving other people their drinks.

Now I'm not one to wish ill on someon-okay I totally am I hope he falls and breaks both of his wrists. Don't hit on people and then wax on about all the people you're sleeping with/wish you could date. Trying to make me jealous doesn't work it just makes me want to hit you with a bag of doorknobs.

It doesn't help that my coworker, who I finally got over, went and cut his long girlish hair and now looks too cute for me to ignore! And now that he's adorable he's found the man of his dreams who looks like an 80 year old munchkin though is only 2 years older than him. He just can't get enough of telling me how great this guy is either. I get to hear all about how they both were in seminary school and both grew up on farms and both like diet Coke and both sit when they take a crap gah I don't care! But I'm being nice nonetheless and wish them both the best even if I express that to him by pretending to vomit every time he mentions his name...

And so here I am once again, the loneliest number in the world. A part of me fears that I'm always going to be the funny sidekick, never the dashing hero who always gets the ~~girl~~ guy... and worst a small part of me is growing comfortable with that thought.

I will shrug that off though and persevere. My man is out there somewhere and no prince on a white stallion will be able to sweep him away because he only has eyes for me. Hopeless devotion, eternal love, some crap like that. Until then, losers prepare yourself. These boots were made for walking. I will date you and will dump you, until that day a very special kind of loser comes along... one that I'll go completely gaga for and he'll be Mine all mine forever. And then I can bother one of my friends with the details of our love life, like how we both enjoy drinking liquids ohmygodwehavesomuchincommon!!!!

And this little piggy won't go running home cryin' his blog about his boy troubles ever again.

Or at least they won't be getting a boy troubles.

2:^)

Happy New Year bitches!

2007-01-03T18:01:00.000-05:00

So I haven't had quite the diarying gusto that I thought I would (teehee diarrhea gusto), but here I am back to inform the masses of the fabulous ongoings in my glamorous librarian life. When we last left off I was busy revealing that I am a fake bitch when it comes to telling people their lovers are ugly (whereas I am painfully honest in virtually all other aspects of life).

Now because I'm too lazy to actually talk about them and you are just as lazy about reading them here is the cliff notes version of how I've spent my break thus far.

- I went to a lesbian bar and was disappointed because the place didn't stink of feminism. There was a pleasingly high level of short-cropped hair, thug wear, and militant boots which tickled me pink.

- I went to some bars in Towson and there had a conversation with the greasiest latino man I've ever met. He was calling my friend a whore and when I said he's probably just as big of a whore he replied, "Yes dis iz troo" Hah! Later my best friend (the asian) was determined to go to some bar and made a b-line for it. One of the fellas in the group promptly chased down, scooped her up in the middle of a cross walk, and brought her into a different bar entirely.

- I went to my friend's wedding which was beautiful and sad all at the same time. I might never see her again, but a few high lights included our hotel in the finest prostitution district in all of western Maryland, the concierge warning us to call downstairs if a black man with silver teeth is in our room (who we later saw in the back of a police car), and holding hands with a Navy guy during a slow dance (I'll let you wonder about that one haha).

- I met a boy for coffee who is very cute, very gay (apprentice hairstylist with a belly button ring), and very boring unfortunately. But we'll see perhaps these things take some warming up. Still it has to be pretty bad when a librarian thinks you're boring...

- I have two other boys trying to court me as well. For some reason I have a sudden plethora of boys to pick from but I'm not really attracted to any of them in any way... still it is very flattering so I'm keeping all my options open which either makes me a tease, a whore, or a bitch and possibly all three. Whatever I haven't been out there much so if nothing else hopefully I'll make some new friends and meet guys that are decent and restore my faith in gay men.

I think that's it. Other than a bonfire/band/barn celebration I didn't entirely successfully make it to on New Years the rest of my life is simply Blaaaah.

How about you all? Have fun times?

2:^)

Me On Relationships

2006-12-20T16:54:00.000-05:00

This is the type of advice you can expect from me when talking about your relationships:

Frienderson: This is our first time going out out. Not just to one of our apartments.

Your Hero: That's exciting! Wear something lowcut. So where are you going with your lover?

Frienderson: Well we are going to Bethesda cause that's where he lives.. but we cant go out till 9:30 and most places there close at 10 so I don't know maybe Cosi?

Your Hero: Tacobell?

Frienderson: Too fancy.. I don't want to scare him.

Your Hero: True that place screams committment.

Frienderson: Yeah I mean... "3 choices of hot sauce??? are you trying to get me to marry you??"

Then she sent me his picture.

While this guy was (thankfully!) very cute, I would just like to say to all my friends who happen to stumble upon this blog here this is just a brief translation from what I say to what I actually mean when you show me their photos:

"Cute, how old is he?" = You grave robber/wasn't that guy the before picture in a Rogaine commercial?

Cute = Meh (s)he's alright.

Cute! = Gah what mutant genome experiment went horribly wrong?! Why aren't they in a lab being studied/covered up by the government?

Awww = Awwwhyuckcoughhack if it were possible to vomit out of every orifice of my body I'd be doing it right now because of that dogfaced loser. This person stands as both a testament against people who believe in a benevolent and merciful God as well as a poster child for birth control.

Nice (smile, hair, eyes, etc.) = This is the only feature on his/her entire body that I can remotely say anything genuinely nice about.

Cool tattoos! = Seriously, is this Satan's love child. They have more ink on them than a coloring book.

"Oooh! Does he have an identical twin?" = Please God tell me there aren't two of these running around muckin' up the gene pool in the world.

Nice pic = Kudos to the photographer for capturing your lover in all of his/her revolting hairlipped cauliflower-eared caveman-foreheaded unibrowed glory.

2:^)

Yay! Done! Can't Think of a Clever Title!

2006-12-16T12:54:00.000-05:00

Officially done my first semester of grad school and am well into Winter break which means I'm free to do all the things I love again like read books that I want to read, write in my blog, read other peoples blogs, play video games, and touch myself more regularly. I also plan to drink ten years off my life. It's going to be glorious.

I just finished my last project on Thursday and had two parties lined up last night. The first was a cookie decorating party which got real old real fast. I glutted myself on pizza and frosting, then had a sugar crash in an easy chair while the rest continued on with their confectionary art. We were recreating the cast of The Office. I made a dead-on Angela complete with scowl. My friend did Phyllis with a blue frowny face. We want to send the pictures to NBC and have them feature us. We'll see though. Soon after recovering from my diabetic coma, I realized what time it was and was quickly on my way out the door.

After spending a wholesome evening with friends, I went to a Slutty Santa theme party and you can bet your sweet ass I dressed up. To say I made a spectacle of myself would be an understatement. Of the 50 or so people that were there, only about 10 were actually dressed up, only 3 were remotely slutty, and none of them were guys. Then I busted in wearing this:

I think the strategically placed ribbon makes the outfit... and screams class and sophistication.

The girls thought it was great and all wanted to take pictures with me, the guys... well... who can blame them for being intimidated.

2:^)

An Open Letter

2006-12-08T17:55:00.000-05:00

Dear Friend In A New Relationship,

It's great that you've found that special someone you can share your love, feelings, and bodily fluids with. I'm happy for you. Truly. I am. You're a good person and you deserve good things to happen to you. I wish nothing but the best for you two for the many weeks you are together.

With that said, I'm not sure how to interpret your email this morning "Major sex hair" as I believe I made it quite clear that I did not want to be CCed about developments in your romance department. In fact, I believe I stated it explicitly:

"Be sure to tell me how the sex is... minus the telling me part".

When I said this you seemed quite flabbergasted that I wouldn't want to know but you seem to forget that I only delight in other people's misery not happiness. Don't worry many people who don't know me very well or who are blind, deaf, and dumb have made this mistake before so don't feel too bad. Just remember you can come to me when that bastard splits up with you and you need someone to vent too about his hairy back, small family jewels, or hillbilly smile. Then I'm your man. I'll happily wake up to find that email in my inbox. Until that day comes though keep it moving, there's no goodwill here and I am not a charity so shove off.

You're such a nice guy that I can almost look past the fact that you being in a relationship with another gay man limits the tiny tiny gay dating pool by two more men. Your generous nature and kind spirit almost makes me want to apologize for my overtly cold and sarcastic "Congratulations" to which I replied to aforementioned sex hair email. But then you responded with this:

"Your man is coming, don't worry. Just keep being open and stretching your comfort zone.

I've been putting myself out there ALOT for the last SEVERAL months, so it's about payday. :)
It's just takes time....and it's good too, because I realize that there are some really nice guys out there, you just have to sort through them."

You tried to give me dating advice...apparently meeting a guy online just last week and fooling around with him on his couch as you watch Pirates of the Carribean qualifies you as some sort of relationship expert now.

My heart is stone to you! Stone. Yeah I felt bad that I was being such a jerk and let you tell me all the knitty gritty details that you were just going to tell me anyway, but that is the last shred of compassion you will see from me buddy pal.

I like to make people laugh, entertain them, and generally make sure everyone is having a good time. But this, this just annoys me. I like to think I'm Apollo who, when he took back his gift of healing, would leave plagues and devastation. Well I am taking back my gift of hilarity from you you fool, go get your cheap laughs elsewhere- perhaps from your lover since he's apparently so great. You'll be awash in a sea of boredom at work now jerkface and you've got nobody to thank but your own ill-advising self!

See ya on Monday. Hmmph.

2:^)

Gay.com

2006-12-04T10:50:00.000-05:00

Because I'm just not gay enough, I finally made a Gay.com profile entered the chat. I used it a little last night and a little this morning and I've already been solicited for sex approximately 29382957 times and I've seen more pictures of men in their underewear than I ever wanted to. Young big-headed librarians are apparently a hot commodity these days.

I managed to offended tons of people because instead of talking about my bedroom habits, I would try engage them in conversation about books and their interests. I don't think I've got Gay.com netiquette down yet. (Note To Self: Learn to say "Hung?" instead of "Hi!")

There's only been two slightly sketchy moments (and probably more to come).

The first, a young latino man who said hello by asking me if I was a top or bottom. When I said I wasn't online to hook up he said he wasn't either and then asked me a laundry list of questions about how tall I was, how hairy I was... you know those questions you ask people you want to be friends with.

The best question he asked me by far was...

how...

big...

my...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
FEET ARE!

AHAHAHAH!

The conversation ended thereafter.

Then there was this morning. A 54 year old man (who may or may not be gay/married) offered to buy me lunch. When I said I couldn't because I have a project to do *coughnothingtodocough*, he started asking me questions about myself. One was whether I've done anything with a guy. When I said that I had, he seemed rather turned off.

"I don't think I want to take you to lunch anymore... you seemed so innocent."

When I asked him what he meant by that he wouldn't go into it anymore but kept talking about my apparent lack of innocence.

He then made the mistake of asking me what I thought of him.

What I learned from our exchange is that people don't like it when you tell them they sound like a pedophile. If that man ever had any questions about his sexuality, the hissyfit he threw after that comment confirmed it for me.

Good times.

2:^)

P.S. New way to instantly turn a guy offer (inspired by a gay.com profile). Say you're into wearing diapers and soiling yourself!

Just Call Me Rambley McGillicutty

2006-12-03T10:43:00.000-05:00

First, I would like to extend my apologies to all of my lovely blogger buddies who consistently leave me comments that I don't return. I'm very busy right now and don't have time for netiquette. I just want you to know that I greatly appreciate your kind words, funny comments, and most importantly your insults and I promise to return the favor some day when I'm not librarianing my ass off (See: Mid-December thru January).

Second, under Things That Make You Go Ew my new least favorite word for a part of the female anatomy is Beef Drapes.

Third, I would like to apologize to those who were eating when you read Second because I didn't give you proper warning.

Fourth, I am giving up this numbering system because it's annoying me as much as it is annoying you and it'll be even less cute by time I reach One Hundred And Fourty First.

So I saw the movie Happy Feet with my friend PizzaFace and I must say that I was loving every minute of it until the very end. I won't spoil the movie for you but I will advise that as soon as you see real people appear in the film - walk out of the theater. It's all downhill from there but the movie is so good up until that point that it is still definitely worth a peek. I almost stormed the box office for a refund for the last half hour of the film, but sometimes they stick people who are literally mentally retarded behind the counter and I don't want to be out matched in that battle of wits.

And since I'm going out with girls when I should be going out with a big hunk of man meat on a Friday night, I will discuss the boyfront. It has come to my attention that the quote unquote loves of my life are all turning out to be basketcases. It seems like everyone I like has more baggage than a hotel bellhop. They're either too hung up on past relationships or recovering alcoholics or practicing Catholics... Republicans all people that would be disasterous for me to get involved with. I would never be able to settle down and adopt puppies with a man like that!

All of these gay freaks of nature I surround myself with, also make me wonder how I come off to other menfolk. Perhaps there's something about me that sends the stable ones screaming. I think I'm pretty amazing but I'm also pretty single which speaks to the contrary. Hmmm...

In order to rectify this problem my friend (one of the people who has too much baggage) has suggested I try speed dating with him. I'm definitely entertaining the option because I feel like, if nothing else, I'll get some cheap laughs out of it. I looked at the website and there is literally one guy with a weird bulging forehead that looks like something is trying to hatch out of his skull. SO HOTT!

It'll also be fun to think up instant turn offs in case there's a really skeezy guy that is putting the moves on me. The best I can come up with is:

"Want to see my colostomy bag?"

Are there any others I should consider?

2:^)

Some People Play Sports, I Ruin Lives

2006-11-26T13:30:00.000-05:00

So my arch nemesis had a boyfriend that lived far away who he perpetually cheated on because he is an insatiable buttwhore. The ex-boyfriend is from South Africa and currently lives in Frederick, Maryland. Write that down, it becomes important later.

One day he even allude to the fact that he was going to cheat on this boy again with another ex-boyfriend of his, who he has always claimed was the love of his life. Unfortunately for my arch nemesis, this was just after I had been told by two of my friends that he'd been saying he hated me to people even though I thought things were fine. I supposed inviting someone to your Christmas party, hanging out with them all the time, sleeping in the same bed with them, etc. doesn't qualify for friendship.

Needless to say it was at that time I had made up my mind to surreptitiously ruin his life. There are so many ways to get back at people - sleep with their boyfriends, burn all their worldly belongings, slip them a mickie lock them in the trunk of their car and push it into a river, etc. However I decided to choose a much more dastardly approach - psychological warfare.

I'm fortunate that for whatever reason people confide in me with EVERYTHING - their secrets, other peoples secrets, and those secrets tend to get very personal. Arch nemesis and his friends, had left me with a stockpile of ammo to use against him and use it I did. I began by text messaging my friend Obnoxious Girl and telling her that arch nemesis, who she had hung out with all semester, had told two of our friends that he didn't trust her and that he didn't really consider her a close friend (yeah they've known each other since literally day one of freshmen year, but no - not cose). Obnoxious Girl, as you can well imagine is not a girl to be crossed. Next to me she is the HBIC Head Bitch In Charge. She effectively cut off half of his group of friends over night.

So after I heard Arch nemesis say he was going to cheat on his current boyfriend with the Love of His Life, I had too ways of tackling the situation. Track down current boyfriend or track down Love of His Life. I tried to do both. Unsuccessful on finding current boyfriend I did locate Love of His Life because I remembered he had a friendster account. I created an account, logged on, and sent him a friendly message.

After a revealing a few choice details, he told me he had contacted Arch nemesis to get to the bottom of things, he could tell from his tone that he was clearly lying so he emailed me back and said "here's some justice for you - I'm done with him and all the boys in Southern Maryland."

This whole time I was on the student government executive board so the next step was clear - turn them against him. It was easy because... well... I'm more likable than him and people were already upset with him over little matters. I just stirred the pot a little (See: A Lot) and soon had half the executive board threatening to quit. Unfortunately we didn't but he could feel the tension, he even tried to buy us off by taking us all out to dinner. It didn't work but it was still valiant effort on his part.

It was around that time I started to feel bad for him and pulled back. I began to realize that spending any amount of time or effort on this boy was too much time. The final step of the revenge was living well. I got into graduate school, I got a job, I lived it up with my friends and made new ones. Meanwhile, he was hemorraghing friends and spiraling out of control. The damage I had done was slowly revealing itself. If it weren't for the fact that I was forced into an awkward situation where his father told him I wanted to say goodbye to him and arch nemesis came out and hugged me and my family proving he is fake to the bitter end - I probably wouldn't have let him have it in an email where I confessed that I ruined his friendships, turned people like Obnoxious Girl against him, etc. The last thing I ever said to him was "Hope you don't become a statistic."

Cut to this week. I went to a party at Obnoxious Girl's house. She has taken on a part time job at Best Buy in Frederick, Maryland. Any guesses as to who her boss is?

That's right! My arch nemesis' ex-boyfriend from South Africa! (See I told you it would be important.)

After talking a little bit they soon realized their connection. My arch nemesis had been calling him regularly because he was supposed to move to New York. "Just say the word and I'll stay here for you." His response was to pretend he lost service.

Obnoxious Girl had told ex-boyfriend several dirty secrets about Arch nemesis because he'd been telling his ex he'd only slept with 3 people when the real number is more like 13. One of those bakers dozen was a one night stand with some old, old, old, old, old, oooooooold black redneck down at Ocean City.

The next time Arch nemesis called and began talking about how many people he'd been with he asked if that's what he told that black redneck at the beach. Needless to say he was not pleased.

The best part comes though when one day the ex-boyfriend calls Arch nemesis and says, "Guess what?! I work with one of your really good friends from college!"

Arch nemesis: Who?

Ex-Boyfriend: Guess!

Arch nemesis: Boy or Girl?

Ex-Boyfriend: Girl.

Arch nemesis: Well I don't know I have a lot of female friends. Just tell me I'm dying to know!

Ex-Boyfriend: [Obnoxious Girl]!

Arch nemesis: ... My life is over.

Early next year, he will be moving to Florida with his family.

All I have to say is

2:^)

Update From The Gobble Day Trenches

2006-11-23T15:16:00.000-05:00

My little cousin arrived and the first words I hear are "You wet myself". My sister and his mother are currently out at Walmart buying him a new pair of pants because she forgot to bring a change of clothes.

Meanwhile my clinically depressed great aunt is looking frail as ever. Even though she can barely see the first thing she said when she "saw" me was "If you get any talller we'll have to raise the roof on this place". She says that every time I see her usually several times.

As per usual, she has also made her first morbid comment of the evening, "This is going to be my last Thanksgiving", but don't worry she's been saying that for years now and my aunt encouraged with a "Don't be silly we'll see you at my place for Christmas!" Her response was to groan.

Everyone is already hittin' up the booze.

Dinner is late and will probably be cold but it's the same every year so things are checking out to be right on schedule.

My relatives have only been here an hour and a half. I'm hoping to get them out of here by 6 .

*Fingers Crossed*

Oh the holidays. Gotta love it.

2:^)

GAY ALERT

2006-11-22T22:31:00.000-05:00

Which of the following things makes me the gayest man in the world?

I finished watching the Madonna Concert on NBC and decided to turn on LOGO so I could catch an old episode of Noah's Arc and one of the characters was getting gay bashed, but I wasn't sure who to root for because he was wearing a FASHION PONCHO!

In other news life is GOOOOOD! I've been very busy with school including but limited to papers, exams, and worst of all a presentation.

Now normally I love presentations but I had to work with some crazy woman who did not want to do a Powerpoint Presentation or provide a handout despite the fact both were specifically required for the assignment. After I convinced her that it would be a good idea to include them, she sent me the goods - 28 powerpoint slides and 10 pages of handouts! And that was just HER half of the presentation!!!

To say her and I had trouble reaching a consensus would be an understatement. In order to give you an idea of how my part went I have included the following images that were actually in the powerpoint slide that I presented before the class. Keep in mind the topic was electronic records archives:

Somehow we got a B+ which has made me conclude that I'm just paying for my grades in grad school which is a relief because now I can read more books for fun and less textbooks. 2:^))

Hope everyone has a safe and enjoyable Gobble Gobble Day tomorrow! Dinner is at my house so I will be to avoiding my clinically depressed great aunt and our hyperactive learning disabled cousin all day until the meal is ready.

Perhaps I'll even report from the trenches tomorrow, I dunno I dunno if I'll have enough time.

2:^)

Why Do People Do Nice Things?

2006-11-12T16:57:00.000-05:00

The other day I decided that I was in desperate need of a haircut and bit the bullet and went to the redneck place down the street. They're cheap ($12.00!), they're close by (right on the corner of my street), and most importantly of all they don't try to make small talk with me.

Only problem is they don't really do that great of a job cutting my hair but you get what you pay for ($12.00!).

So I began my lonely sojourn down the street only to find a little Yorkie staring back at me from the middle of the road. It saw me, froze, and decided its best defensive strategy would be to lay down in the road and shake like a leaf.

For some reason I have become quite the Dog Whisperer in my day and I convinced the frightened pooch to come out of the road so that I could pet it. From there it let me look at its collar which, thankfully, had an address on it or else I would be the proud new father of a Yorkie.

I looked at the address and it turns out that it's my neighbor's dog just a few doors down so I decided to deliver the little squirt. I scooped the little guy into my arms and knocked on my neighbor's door.

It was then as I climbed the stairs of their porch and rang the doorbell that I realized the dog was COMPLETELY covered in its own filth.

Completely.

Oh gawd it was everywhere.

And right as I dropped the dog on the ground my hill billy owner opened the door. I handed the animal over and all I got was an, "Oh... thank you."

Some people don't do good things to get a pat on the back but I do. At the very least I should have gotten a parade thrown in my honor or the key to the city. But instead I got a lukewarm gracias and had the door shut in my face. As I stood there covered in excrement.

And so I walked back to my house, changed my clothes and began my trip to the hair cutter again.

Honestly, part of me hoped I'd find another puppy... he would at least seem grateful.

2:^)

Goth Boy Picture

2006-11-03T14:52:00.000-05:00

Here's the picture for all of you cry babies who complained I didn't include a picture in my last post.

The things I do for you people.

Much love!

2:^)

P.S. I am well aware Pink Floyd is not goth but I needed to wear that shirt at work and all the other shirts at hot topic had zombies eating babies on the front and I wasn't paying 20 bucks on a shirt I was never going to wear again. Okay done ranting.

Thank God for Pandemics!

2006-11-02T16:20:00.000-05:00

Months ago when I first started working at the library, I was young and new to the working world. I had grand visions of things like paychecks and federal tax returns and a little myth I like to call payroll direct deposit. But all of those dreams were crushed on the first day of work when I marched my little body up to payroll and asked if they did direct deposit.

"No" the lesbian with the nose ring said. Or at least she would have said that if I had asked or if she was actually a lesbian, but she gave me no indication that direct desposit was available to temporary staff and employees. I left defeated by the giant ogre and vowed to return another day to dance on her corpse... or pick up my paychecks biweekly.

That is until today...

Fortunately for me, there is a little thing called the Avian Flu threatening to extinct life as we know and as part of the college's Avian Flu or other Catastrophic Events Strategic Plan (I shit you not that's what it's called), I and the rest of the working grunts at the library now reap the benefits of direct deposit!

We're just like salaried employees now, only we earn less money... and don't get benefits... or respect...

In other news, for Halloween I decided to be original and go as a Goth Kid (which is only funny because if you know me in real life I am jolly and laughy and listen to pop music and wear lots of polo shirts). The transformation was very effective - my coworkers and friends didn't recognize me and when they did they all wanted to take pictures (my boss even used the department camera).

I must say it was an amazing costume... albeit an expensive one:

Red & Black Hairspray: $6.00
Fake Piercings: $2.00
Lipstick and Eyeliner: $5.00
Black Pants: $20.00
Black T-Shirt: $20.00
Metal Arm Band: $5.00
Wallet Chain: $15.00
Spiked Dog Collar: $15.00
Almost Scaring A Man Out of the Bathroom Because He Walked In On You While You Were Putting Your Fake Lip Ring Back In: PRICELESS!

He came in looked at me, made a face, started to go back out when I explained what I was doing and that it was just a costume. From there he came back in and went to the urinal where he proceeded to stare at me and started asking me questions. At that point I was the uncomfortable one trying to back out of the bathroom.

Seriously people are far as I am concerned when you are using a public bathroom you are NOT allowed to multitask - no talking, no cell phone, no reading (I found one of our books in the bathroom), just drop your load and leave (only after first washing and thoroughly drying your hands).

My favorite thing about the goth boy costume (aside from the looks) was that people kept asking me if it was costume. As if overnight I decided I was tired of the status quo and would finally reveal my true self! They also kept asking me if the piercings were real and while I am committed to a costume, there is no way in hell you will ever see me getting any metal attached to me thankyouverymuch. Especially not 8 piercings.

That look took a lot of maintenance and at the end of the day I was happy to wash off the makeup, change into my own clothes and go back to my run of the mill librarian self.

I have so much more respect for my friends who dress like that every day.

Keep on truckin'!

2:^)

Ringtones for Diabolical Purposes

2006-10-21T17:15:00.000-04:00

Apparently there's a sound that can only be heard by people younger than 30ish which was created at the same pitch as that of a mosquito. This sound has been turned into a ringtone which students use to alert themselves they have a message without drawing the attention of the professor. This rington has been creatively called The Mosquito Buzz Ringtone.

I find the sound quite painful to listen to so just be warned all your 30 and unders (or 30 and overs testing your aural age).

(Editor's Note: Attempting to wake your cat with this sound will only result in her realizing you are in the room and trying to cuddle you to death -not the jump-halfway-to-the-moon startle response that you were originally hoping for.)

2:^)

Homework Is Fun!

2006-10-12T18:00:00.000-04:00

F0r one of my assignments I had to locate a patent, which are conveniently located at our engineering library which is in the math building for some reason. Before I headed over there though I decided to look through the patent guides which are conveniently located on their website.

After much thought and deliberation I decided what product I wanted to look for and after checking several patent websites, I was able to locate a record, but not the actual patent itself. Much like everyone else on the planet I only go to the library as a last resort (which I guess is hypocritical since I want to become a librarian), fortunately I was on campus today and happened to be headed in the direction so I headed on in.

There I found the service desk and asked one of the women who was busy playing a game for some help. She was very nice and began looking for the patent on sites that I had already checked, but I let her go with it anyway and pretended I was shocked when her search queries brought 0 results. After confessing that she wasn't sure whether we could locate it or not, she suggested that we might need to consult the patent librarian who just so happened to be walking by the desk at the time. I can't tell you how old he was but I'm pretty sure he came over on the Mayflower. This man began doing a complicated search and was able to locate patents for products similar to my own. In the meantime, another woman at the service desk had begun searching for the patent and pulling up sites about my product.

And what exactly did I request a patent for that had 3 reference librarians drop everything they were doing for almost half an hour?

A little product I like to call

The Flowbee!

Something tells me the phrase "vacuum haircutter" has never been spoken within those walls.

Always glad to leave my mark.

2:^)

No Time To Crap

2006-10-06T22:33:00.000-04:00

So my friend who was mad at me for repeating something that someone else said because I wanted to know his reaction and he basically went apeshit which prompted me to say he needs to get a sense of humor which made him go even more apeshit (apeshittier?) and thus sparked the last post and then this sentence which stopped being a real sentence about two or three ignored commas ago...

Well he apologized for his overblown response.

Bwhahaha! Racism wins again!

Wait what?

In other news, I haven't written in this piece in forever because I've been very very busy. I've got more homework than I know what to do with and if it keeps up at this rate I'm going to have to start wearing Depends because I won't have time for bathroom breaks.

You can thank me later for that visual.

Otherwise, things have been absolutely super. I'm getting along better and better with my coworkers every day. My new favorite person is the new gay student assistant. He's kind of cute even though I can't tell how old he is/he has long hair. LONG HAIR ICK! I think what I enjoy most about him is that he seems very nice at first, but then after hearing me openly make fun of our coworkers to their faces, he's taken to bad mouthing them to me via email.

If you can smack talk with the best of them you have a friend in me! And he is no limits too! Be it the fact they paint in their eyebrows or dress like a homely lesbian. Most importantly of all he makes fun of to no end. The other day he was being such a smart ass I threatened to cock slap him.

This is how I flirt.

And I wonder why I'm single.

2:^)

Dear Racism

2006-09-28T12:38:00.000-04:00

Dear Racism,

I hate you because I can't have an open dialogue about you with my black friends without them throwing up the you-could-never-possibly-know-what-I'm-going-through-because-
you're-a-stupid-white-boy defense.

I resent you because as a white person I can't speak my mind on the issue without inevitably sounding racist or insensitive.

I know that I will never know what it is like to be discriminated against due to the color of my skin, to have a visual cue that points me out to all those around me and marks me as Other.

I have never equated the prejudice that gay men receive with the racism that black, asian, latino, and other groups endure every day.

I acknowledge that people of color will have to work twice as hard to get half as far as I do.

I don't see racism in every situation and perhaps its because I'm white that I never will.

I can't see how racism will ever be overcome without people opening their minds, laying down their defenses, and actively engaging these issues in an open discourse without some strange sense of entitlement.

I believe the human experience is universal, that we can all benefit from each others experiences and that we all have the capacity to emphathize and understand one another if we choose to and if we chose to let others understand us. It is through this process, not through cordoning off the human experience because you're black and I'm white or you're straight and I'm gay, that the ignorance at the very root of hatred and prejudice and racism can be eliminated.

But I'm just a white boy so what do I really know anyway...

Hate Always,

StuckingFupid

Stupidity Starts Early

2006-09-24T14:06:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I went to see Jackass 2 and it was, quite possibly, the funniest movie I have ever seen. My cheeks hurt from evil laughing so much. Word of warning though, if you're not into feces, male nudity, and people doing bodily harm to themselves it may not appreciate the comedic value as much as I do.

Fortunately I preordered the tickets, because after visiting my friends' chain smoking buddies (they said they were going out on the balcony to smoke A cigarette... 6 cigarettes later...), we showed up at the theater with only 15 minutes before showtime. There was only one slight hang up at which occured at the little ticket counter where the person rips your ticket and mumbles what theater you're in (or tells you you have pretty eyes). This time I handed over my tickets to the man and he asked, "How old are you?"

I was so taken aback by the question I couldn't even think of how old I was. After some hesitation, a look of consfusion, and a shake of my head in disbelief, I managed to blurt out, "22". To which he gave me a unconvinced look me. My naturally instincts kicked in and I whipped out my wallet and was about tothrew my ID at him, when he stopped me with "It's cool man I belie' ya."

Good, because I would have been pulling my license out of your BRAINSTEM.

I guess I should feel complimented that I have such a youthful appearance that I'm questioned about R movies but I don't quite appreciate the idea that I look like some pimply prepubescent 16 year old.

By that point we had 10 minutes before showtime and by some act of Allah, we found great seats in the middle row AND they hadn't darkened the lights in the theater. I will have to sacrifice a virgin or something for that most glorious day!

In other news my cousin came over the other day and brought her baby with her (I think she's 2 years old). I pretended to be asleep until she left and now she thinks that I'm dead because I keep on blowing off all the events she invites me to so much so I don't think she's seen me in almost 5 years.

I'm not a fan of children as I've said in the past. They're not cute or particularly clever and they can't keep their pestilent little hands off me. I am NOT touchy feely at all. So rather than fighting off a little grub all morning I hid upstairs in my room and watched movie trailers. It sounds like the runt had a good time while she was here. She feasted on chocolate, played with a ball I didn't even know we had, managed to thoroughly harass my cat, and managed to steal a pumpkin out of my backyard.

When she went home she told her brothers all about her adventures, showing off, with great pride, the "apple" she had picked.

...isn't that just adorable.

BLEH!

2:^)

Professors Say The Darndest Things

2006-09-21T10:42:00.000-04:00

First my archives professor says, "Weenie of the week" and reccomends drinking after doing a lot of records management then my technology professor says we're going to start a daisy chain* in class. Now picture me giggling for a half an hour after the fact.

I've had a rather boring week. All I've done is work, go to class, and whore myself for this festival I'm planning. I put up fliers all over the building and our dutiful cleaning people had them torn down by the next day. A few survived their genocide which is my middle finger to them. Screw you for doing your job!

The publicity front is still going strong. I was able to make several notable classroom announcements. In one I promised to do a jig if people showed up, in another I may or may not have insulted my professor. I've got one more class to hit up and then I'll be done completely. Debating what ridiculous thing I'll say next... perhaps offers of candy and sexual favors.

On the car front, I've narrowed my car choices down to a Honda or Toyota (which many folks have recommended). I like to think those cars are higher quality because Japanese people are tiny and can get their tiny hands into places American born manufacturers can't. My new debate is whether I should buy a car because it's fuel efficient or because it has all wheel drive.

Sure there's the risk of driving recklessly in inclement weather, but only 30 bucks a week on gas... fantastic.

2:^)

*For those of you who don't pride yourself on knowing dirty words and phrases here is a definition for you by our good friends at UrbanDictonary.com.

"Often found in porn, a phenomenon where multiple female participants perform cunnilingus on each other in a circular formation, permitting each participant to both give and recieve oral sex simultaneously."

Debt Is My Friend

2006-09-17T16:01:00.000-04:00

When your car stalls... on the highway... for the fourth time... in this past month and a half, a lot of things run through your head, namely oh Christ this thing is going to be my grave!!!!!
After you've safely pulled over to the shoulder and avoided certain death, the very next though you have is that you should seriously consider investing in a new mode of transportation. What I want, ideally, is something that is cheap, fast, and fuel efficient.

Just like me... wait what?

Rocket packs and scooters aside, I am going to have to buy another car for my commute which means I magically need to find money. I've got several things going for me. One being that higher education will be my creditor (hooray for being a student... hooray for my university owning me for the next 10 years of my life... if I'm lucky). I also have plenty of people willing to risk their credit scores to cosign for me.

Bad news is the blue book value for my car... I'll give you a moment to guess how much that is.

If you said 2000 dollars that's absolutely...

1,500 dollars off the mark.

Yes if I trade my car in I will only get 500 dollars. My parents spent just 700 just last week getting the electric full pump fixed. So I will have to find some ~~sucker~~ erstwhile dealership that is offering one of those 1000 bucks for any trade in deals!!! And then make sure I take someone with me who knows how to haggle over a car price.

My parents are not an option. Between them they don't have a single argumentative bone in their entire bodies. So it looks like it is up to me, Your Hero, to do the dirty work. Only problem is I have no clue how to haggle.

My idea of lowballing someone would be to slap a sock full of pocket change on the desk and demanding I won't pay a penny more. When that fails I can use the change sock as a formidable negotiation tool. So far my research has turned up unhelpful results because frankly I don't know enough about cars to realize when someone is dicking me over and when their offer is legit.

"The radio comes standard? Begone with you snakeoil salesman and practice your charlatan brand of car dealersh... oh You mean standard mean it's already included in the price of the car? Heehee lets be friends."

They would smell me coming a mile away. That and because my car probably broke down again on the highway and I had to walk there.

I'll have to recruit a negotiater. Now who could that be...

2:^)

So Over Him

2006-09-14T17:03:00.000-04:00

My former pretend future husband who doesn't know it yet keeps going on and on about how he's in love with this new guy and apparently they hung out last night, got drunk off of wine and beer, and then snuggled.

And I can honestly say, I don't care! Enjoy your cuddlefest. I hope you two live happily ever after. Getting hate crimed for holding hands in the park. Having gaybies together. Don't forget to go to Massachusetts and make a legitimate man out of him.

Whatever! Do what you want. See if I care, which I don't.

Yeah you're pretty. And he's pretty. And I'm lonely. But I'm happy for you and wish you the very very best.

With absolutely no resentment at all.

None.

At all.

...

Stop looking at me like that. I'm very happy I swear. It would just be nice to have a man to spice things up a little ~~down there~~. Someone to talk to, to hang out with whenever I want, to attend parties with me that I don't really want to go to alone, to move into a one bedroom apartment with because looking for a roommate SUCKS.

Sweet, sweet roommate purposes.

Oh and I guess someone loving you unconditionally would be pretty okay too. And not at all superficial.

Bah whatever! I'm married to grad school right now so it doesn't matter.

That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

2:^)

Classy Class 3

2006-09-11T21:26:00.000-04:00

My technology professor is a real idiot. Graduated from MIT with a Ph.D. in computer science and couldn't manage the computer console for the slide projector or the light switches. He did appreciate that my response to his "how scared are you of this class" question was"pants soilingly" so he can't be all that bad.

I'm excited because one of the girls in my class mentioned that her "partner" is a Microsoft Certified Specialist, which I will tackle in two directions.

First, I hope by partner she meant gay female homo lifemate because if she's some dumb feminist that refuses to say husband I will cockslap her in the name of the patriarchy. Second, it excites me that her partner is a Microsoft Certified Specialist because what that makes me think of are those late night commercials that have some blonde white woman talking about the glories of an MS certification from whatever online/correspondence course that's hawking and all the people touting the glories of knowing how to use Excel *finally* are the finest Mexicans pennies can buy. I hope she took the other opportunities those institutions offer like fashion design or a lab technician.

Love it!

So from here on out even if her gay female homo lifemate mexican girlfriend turns out to be named Philip, that is what I am going to picture regardless.

You should too.

I'm also excited because there's this other girl I suspect is Irish. I couldn't figure out though because the accent is very weak. I will have to keep talking to her until I feel comfortable enough to squeeze the question into a conversation/can determine whether she just has a speech impediment.

I can feel it's going to be a good year.

2:^)

I Hope College Never Ends

2006-09-10T17:36:00.001-04:00

This weekend I visited my alma mater to see a few friends. The two most popular reactions I got were:

"AAAAHHHH OH MY GOD [STUCKINGFUPID]! *Big Hugs*"

Or

"Oh hey... wait... didn't you... graduate?" *Hugs*

My responses:

"Hey!"

Or

"I failed a class."

Just to fuck with'em.

The weekend was filled with tons of debauchery. I drank. I probably got second hand high. I eye raped my friend's friend's boyfriend. Sure this is just like any other day of the week for me, but I was away from my family and that's all that's important.

My favorite night had to be last night (or this morning depending on how you look at it) because it was by far the craziest. I didn't go to any of the parties I was supposed to attend or see most of the people I was supposed to visit but that didn't prevent me from hanging out with strangers and having an excellent time.

Loading up a goody bag full of boxed chardonnay (classy I know) and some beers (See: Coors Light, See: A beer aficionado's toilet water), I went with my friend over to one of her friends' houses. I didn't think I would know anyone that lived there but when we entered the house I saw HIM.

For convenience we will call HIM Brace Face because that's the first thing you see when you look at him (at least when he has his shirt on... I'll get into that later). Brace Face is obsessed with one of my friends who we'll just call My Evil Twin (which will also become integral to the story later).

The boys apparently had a party the night before and somehow tore through 80 beers in the process. Seeing as how they were alcoholless we decided to share our wine with them while we talked about pretty much anything that came to mind. They weren't the funniest group of people but I don't think anyone's friends are as funny as mine.

After awhile they got bored and wanted to do something and when they couldn't come up with anything they opted to find some pot and get stoned. My friend was already drunk off her ass by this point and was ready for anything. Not being a pot head I gave them my blessing to search some out. They ran upstairs to check around online. Meanwhile I peacefully laid back on these strangers' sofa, drank my beer, and text messaged all my friends who I had stood up that night (whoops!).

People seemed to be wandering in and out, all of whom I knew somehow so I chatted with them as I finished up my apology-a-thon. Soon I found myself alone and beerless so I went to the fridge to get another drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a very shirtless very hairy boy go running by. I thought it was weird but I was too busy trying to wrestle the top off my twist off bottle to care about this half naked stranger running through the house. It was then that I hear:

"[STUCKINGFUPID]!"

It was Brace Face. I'm not sure if he was high or drunk or just a little off his rocker, but before I know it I was in a bear hug with that hairball. When he released me from his tight grip I took a swig of my drink. He started to ramble at me:

"Now I understand that you're close friends with [My Evil Twin] right?" Indeed. "Well I think she is a really good person and I like to be friends with people that like to help others and she's that type of person. Now I don't know whether you and I share the same beliefs on things or not but I think you're a good person too." Clearly this boy knows nothing about me. "And just to let you know you are always welcome in my home. If you need a bed you can have mine or my roommate's or..." and proceeds to offer me the beds of every single one of his housemates.

I smile uncomfortably and tell him that's awfully kind of him. We shake hands and without skipping a beat he continues on his mad dash through the house and out the back door. I ran upstairs to tell his roommates. Later we would find out he went from there to a neighbor's house where kids were shrooming and ended up freaking them all out.

I climb the stairs and turn toward their room to see them scraping the inside of a bowl with a swiss army knife. They couldn't find anyone with pot so they were resorting to smoking the resin from smoke ups of Christmases past.

Your Hero: So I just shared a very special moment with [Brace Face] in the kitchen?

Roommate: Are we talking first or second base here?

Other Roommate: Oh God is he proselytizing again? He gets like this sometimes and goes into sermons with everyone.

After smoking a bowl or two of resin, they discovered a lock box under Brace Face's bed which they proceeded to try and pick with a lock picking kit (god only knows why they have one didn't ask, didn't want to know). After continually failing to pick the lock, I spoil their fun by proposing the idea that he probably has the key close by like perhaps in his desk (and lo and behold there's the key on his keychain in his desk). They open the lock box which doesn't sustain their interest for long though, just papers and an old baseball. They start scraping a different bong for old resin.

Soon Brace Face busts into the room and they hide the bong. He was apparently getting into some sort of debate with someone.

"The Bible is totally subjective!" Was the last thing I heard before Brace Face grabbed a Bible out of his desk drawer and climbed out the window onto the roof. He was furiously flipping through, stopping at random passages and reading them outloud. He then stuck his head back in the window to say, "The Bible... studies have shown the Bible to be consistent over time and objective!"

"Then why are there different versions?"

"That... bah! That doesn't matter I'm talking about..." and turns back to his Bible lost in thought.

At that point we shut and locked the window while he preached from the rooftop. A few minutes later we heard through the window that he was planning to get off the roof by jumping off the roof. We quickly open the window and tell him to come back inside. He refused. He pretty much had his heart set on jumping off the roof but his roommates grabbed him and tried to pull him back in before he reached the ledge.

"I'M JUMPING!" He yelled while struggling.

"Dude, you'll break your neck or hurt yourself!"

He started screaming something about how pain is relative when they all decided to give up and let jump off. A few minutes later he climbed back through the window and ran out of the room. He was later spotted wrestling someone to the ground outside.

The pot ran out I was finished my beer and crazy had left the building so I went home to go to bed.

These are the type of experiences you can only have at college.

I miss it.

2:^)

And here's a sexy picture of me (from my eyes up). Enjoy boys and girls!

Guide To Love

2006-09-07T09:03:00.000-04:00

Goods news! Princess Gary is fixed!

700 dollars later!

Gah!

Otherwise life is good. Classes are going well. Work is great. Friends are excellent:

Your Hero: Yeah I don't get people that are happy to see people all the time, sickos!

PseudoLesbian: They learly have never worked in the servie industry.

PseudoLesbian: Sorry about my spelling, I am unable to find my extra keyboard with all 26 letters.

Your Hero: Haha it's okay.

Your Hero: CCCC

Your Hero: Jeal-ous?

PseudoLesbian: You are an unt.

In most recent developments one of the people that I talk to on myspace has officially declared his love for me and apparently is dismayed because I have yet to show any love in return.

Here are a few things you should know about Your Hero if you are trying to court him. I'll wait for you to grab a pad and pen.

Firstly, I hate when people readily throw out I love yous and compliments like free candy at a 4th of July parade. It cheapens the meaning. The only times you will ever see me express my true feelings for someone is when I am highly intoxicated (spirits go in truth comes out) or someone is upset. When I give out a compliment or an I love you to my friends they act like I have just given them the Ark of the Covenant. I like that.

Secondly, I am not going to fall in love with you simply because you talk to me online. I have talked to too many of my friends' friends online only to meet them in real life and realize they are boring and can't carry on a good conversation. Or worse they're hard to look at.

Thirdly, I survive on a steady stream of chocolate, junk food, and human misery. If I don't die of some sort of congestive heart failure by the time I'm 25 I am donating my body to science, because I am a friggin' medical wonder of the modern world. The way to my heart is definitely through my stomach and while I'm typically a fussbudget - yummy food makes me ecstatically happy. And when the Missus is happy, everyone is happy!

Fourthly, a good insult goes a long way with me. I am a trash talking hobag and if you can keep up we will be friends for life! Added props if you can zing me really well. If so, I'll probably let you have your way with me.

In summary, I want a man who will plump me up, lay me down, and degrade me.

Wait...

I am a seriously sick individual.

2:^)

Yet Another Reason To Switch...

2006-09-05T19:09:00.000-04:00

McAfee Employee: Hello, [My Hero]?

Your Hero: Hello?

McAfee Employee: This is Bob calling from McAfee Virus Projection.. prodec.. Protection!

Your Hero: Haha Hi Bob.

McAfee Employee: We recently noticed that your virus scan service with us is going to be out of date and wanted you to be aware of the cheap deals we have running right now so that you can get the protection you need at an affordable price.

Your Hero: Well I don't have that computer hooked up to the internet anymore and have a laptop now.

McAfee Employee: Well is your laptop protected with McAfee?

Your Hero: Umm no... but... I have a Mac.

McAfee Employee: Oh... so you don't really need it then... uhh... heh... well... if your... family needs good virus protection!

Meanwhile I start laughing because I just got a telemarketer to admit I don't need his product and in the process he starts to chuckle while doing his spiel because I'm giggling the whole. I admire his recovery with the whole family line of questioning though. He was very good!

In other news, today I had my second class and it was very easy. The teacher basically has everythng she says online so that leaves me plenty of time do things like... oh I dunno... compose blog entries on my laptop during class. Wee!

Good times.

2:^)

Did I Actually Just Read That?

2006-09-04T17:17:00.000-04:00

I was just doing one of my usual blog tours and sometimes I like to play a game that's like six degrees of separation where I see how long it takes for me to make my way back to my journal.

As I was clicking around, I stopped on one site because ~~there was a pretty boy on the front page~~ I was drawn in by the title which had something to d0 with with white collar people. (Little known fact about me - I am FASCINATED by social class).

The entry was by no means the social commentary that I imagined it to be. What unfolded was a story about two lawyers on a crowded train, to God knows, who gave eachother "the eyes" and proceeded to give each other... what's the word agan? ah yes FOOTJOBS.

Now does it take a foot fetishist to understand how that works? Perhaps I'm just not imaginative enough because there's only one way I can imagine that being possible:

and it ain't pretty.

2:^)

P.S. I couldn't find a good picture of a chimp in a business suit but that's okay because I didn't want people to get confused and think it was an actual lawyer. 2;^)

P.P.S. I found this picture in my quest:

How anthropomorpheriffic! See how he holds that gun? Just imagine how he'd work a...

Oh What A Night

2006-09-01T20:45:00.000-04:00

So my sister came back from a harrowing experience on the road. Apparently something is wrong with her Jeep's tires and she was swerving and hydoplaning all over the place. This was unfortunate because she had to get the cake and balloons for her coworker's birthday party. She asked if she could borrow my car or if I could drive and not wanting to go out in this hurricane weather I said, "Drive away!"

Right before she was about to leave though she said, "Are you sure you don't want to go?" which was basically her way of begging me to drive because her, and I quote, "nerves were shot from being on the road before". Being the good brother that I am and the big loser without plans on a Friday night, I willingly assented. So we drove to the Safeway to get the cake, where a toothless bakery cashier took our order.

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: What's the order?

TheSister: Its a half chocolate/half yellow quarter inch pan cake that says, "Happy Birthday Luke!"

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: We couldn't do half and half.

TheSister: Oh okay well which half is it?

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: Ummm... I think it might be yellah. (Editor's Note: His favorite is chocolate). And we couldn't read the handwritin' on the order and you said his name was Lake?

TheSister: No it's Luke!

(Bleedin' Gums Murphy opens the cake to reveal the cake says neither Lake nor Luke but Lucky)

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: Oh see I thought there was a C in there so I told them to put Lucky.

TheSister: Is there any way you can just scrape off the wrong letters and put an E on there?

Bleedin' Gums Murphy: I ain't a decoratah!

TheSister: Oh... well thats fine... but umm... is there any way we can get... a few dollars off because the order was kind of screwed up.

That's when I wanted to break down and cry "This is the worst birthday I've ever had!" just to see if we could get it for free but I refrained myself and besides the woman did give us 4 dollars off which is pretty good I guess.

From there we drove to our local Party City and listened to one of the balloon inflators lament about being the only male employee working that night. As he complained about the women he has to work with and how he's about to up and leave this place so he can spend time with his babies, I snuck off to check out the costumes. I found a pretty spiffy pimp hat and some oversized rock star glasses which were fun to play with, and by time I got back he was still going on. One of the balloons (which had Superman floating in it - the advancements of balloon technology both thrill and excitement) cost about 15 dollars more than it should have.

As we were standing in line at the register I almost tripped a lady that was running back and forth with last minute items - not purposefully but I definitely wouldn't have picked her up if she had face planted in the Party City. In fact I probably would have gone and gotten one of those confetti cannons to celebrate... however, like the balloon, they were also overpriced so it would have been an expensive celebration of disregard for my fellow man.

From there we loaded the balloons into my car (only losing one along the way) and started to head home. It was then, on one of the busiest roads in my town, that the car stopped moving, the oil and battery light flashed on, and my breaks gave out.

Good times.

I tried to turn my car off and restart it to no avail so I slowly forced my little Princess Gary (that's his name he's a drag queen) to the side of the road so I wouldn't be blocking traffic.

My sister called my mom who was at home. She was being cranky and said call my father. My father said he'd be right over and to call AAA (the American Automobile Association, not to be confused with AA which I will also probably be a member of by time I'm done with grad school/all my car woes). I called AAA and the mental giant on the phone sounded really confused about where I was located even though I practically drew her a map with words. She then said, "Okay we'll send a tow truck to pick you up from the highway as soon as we can" and hung up. The only problem with her goodbye... despite the actual lack of a goodbye was that I WAS NOT ON A HIGHWAY!

So then I awaited the tow truck people to call. Soon after I received a call from the good people at AAA to inform me that due to the massive flooding (thanks Ernesto!) there would be a delay for the tow truck.

My father arrived before my mother (despite her being miles closer), but when she finally did arrive my sister ditched me to go celebrate this stupid birthday party. I told her to tell Lucky Happy Birthday.

Meanwhile my father sat down in my car and tried to have idle banter with me but I stopped him mid sentence because he had an enormous black hair protruding from his nose, not the nostril, I mean like on his nose. It was standing at attention and I couldn't hear a thing he was saying because that thing was flapping in the breeze. I informed him of the offending hair. He immediately started plucking at his nostrils. "NO NOT THERE." He started aimlessly thumbing at his nose.

Finally, not being able to stand this display any more I asked him if I could remove it for him. He said yes and so with my mighty thumb and index finger I yanked that sucker out and showed it to him. His response - "Ewww!"

Yeah. It looked like an eye lash hair.

From there he started randomly wiping at my fogged up windows which annoyed me because it would leave his finger prints all over it (I drew a smiley once 2 years ago which is still on my windshield to this day). I yelled at him to stop, then a few minutes later he started doing it again but this time to the side window. I asked him what he was doing.

Papa Bear: Just checking out my car.

Your Hero: THEN GO GET IN YOUR CAR!

Not normally one to take such a subtle hint, he got out of the car, slammed the door and got into his own car.

Nearly an hour had elapsed so I figured if I was going to be stuck in this car, I was going to make myself comfortable. I threw myself in the backseat of my car, which surprisingly I've never been in 2;^) and discovered an ashtray I didn't know existed. I then remembered I had a sleeping bag in my car and lined the back seat with it. For the next half hour I entertained myself by text messaging people and memorizing the numbers on objects in my wallet. I now know both my credit card and debit card numbers, my university ID number, the barcode number on my university ID, my AAA membership card number, and some long drawn out number on my drivers license.

Right when I was about to move on to some gift cards, I received a call from the tow truck driver. Now there is a debate going on about this tow truck driver. My dad thinks he was foreign. I think he was mentally challenged. The world may never know. Either way, the think tank over at AAA told him the wrong road and as I was explaining to him exactly where I was he somehow managed to miss the road I was on entirely. Some point later a AAA employee called to say there was some sort of break down in commnunication between me and the tow truck driving which again was either due to his poor mastery of the English language or his mental deficits (maybe a little of column A and B) so I explained again where I was and that I was in a neighborhood near an intersection of two major roads.

I get a call a few minutes later. The tow truck driver is at a Shell station ON THE ROAD I AM ON. He kept asking me whether he needs to go East or West so because the moon wasn't out, I located the North star using my training as a boy scout and was then able to determine THAT WAS THE STUPIDEST QUESTION EVER, I HAD NO FUCKING CLUE WHERE I WAS and asked him if he was at the Shell station near... and listed a ton of places. He had no idea he simply asked me "Right or left" so I took a 50/50 shot and said right. And Right I Was! (Yay double meaning!)

He soon arrived and then started asking me what was wrong with my car and I let my father field the questions from there. They threw around words like starter and alternator and autobots and decepticons. Whatever. I don't know what they said exactly but it was all very macho and stupid and it was raining so I got into my dad's car and waited for them to finish their car knowledge pissing contest so we could drive the car over to where it will hopefully be fixed (or more hopefully declared dead so I can get a new one).

On the way over I suggested that my father tip the tow truck driver (because while I may yell at strangers with little prompting I am not an all together a heartless individual) and I also apologized to my father on the car ride back home. Sure my father may be a pain in the butt but he did drop everything and go out of his way to come pick me up, and with the many broken relationships my other gay friends have with their fathers I am grateful for that tiny shred I have with mine.

Even if that shred involves body hair plucking and ear piercing screams... I still love him and that's a fact.

2:^)

First Day At School

2006-08-30T21:04:00.000-04:00

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!

2:^)

*Update* My friend dared me to fill out a profile for BlackSingles.com 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!!!

I Hope Grad School Buys Me Dinner First

2006-08-28T19:05:00.000-04:00

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.

2:^)

How Gay Am I?

2006-08-27T14:35:00.000-04:00

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?

2:^)

Schadenfreude!

2006-08-25T13:20:00.000-04:00

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.

2:^)

I'm Just Glad I Got To Say Goodbye

2006-08-24T19:17:00.000-04:00

Snowball:

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...

2:^(

My Weekend Antics

2006-08-21T18:32:00.000-04:00

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"

*GROAN*

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.

Bwhahaha!

2:^)

Gay Town

2006-08-17T15:58:00.000-04:00

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?

2:^)

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.

Maybe Recluses Have The Right Idea

2006-08-14T07:48:00.000-04:00

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."

"Okay"

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*

2:^)

WARNING: Boring Drama Alert, Proceed At Your Own Risk

2006-08-13T12:00:00.002-04:00

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?!

Pizzaface: 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.

2:^)

Everythings Coming Up StuckingFupid!

2006-08-11T21:07:00.000-04:00

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.

2:^)

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

2006-08-09T19:06:00.000-04:00

URGENT NEWS BULLETIN:

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.

GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!!

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.

Cum.
EHEHEHHE

2:^)

Drugs and Boys, Story of My Life

2006-08-08T21:53:00.000-04:00

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.

Ew.

2:^)

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

2006-08-07T18:36:00.000-04:00

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.

2:^)

Mmmm.

My Birthday Month Spectacular Day 2!

2006-08-06T22:02:00.000-04:00

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.

Gah!

2:^P

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

2006-08-05T21:51:00.000-04:00

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!"

2:^)

StuckingFupidMas Eve!

2006-08-03T18:31:00.000-04:00

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...

2:^(

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

2:^)

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

2006-08-02T19:08:00.000-04:00

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?

2:^)

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

2006-08-01T18:38:00.001-04:00

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.

D'oh!

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

2:^)

Schizophrenia, Much?

2006-07-31T18:44:00.000-04:00

Rather than letting me use one of their cars, my family has decided it would be easier to drive me to and from work despite the fact that they all work, at most, 20 minutes from one another and I work more than an hour away from all of them. Yay having them tow me everywhere! Speaking of which, driving with my mother is an exercise in patience. She keeps at least a 6 car following distance between her and the car in front of her, and slams the breaks if that gap closes by so much as a foot. Oh how I miss my little Princess Gary (my car's a drag queen) and hope she has a speedy recovery (because it's not getting any cooler out... tomorrow it's supposed to be 100 some odd degrees but with the humidity it will feel like 109 degrees... I'm sweating just thinking about it).

An office update: everyone seems to have recovered from their death flus but now they're coming down with all sorts of strange afflictions. One has a rash (and wore a festive scarf to cover it up) and another is breaking out in little bumps (the one that "yelled" at me which I just suspect are her witch's warts coming in). Whatever the reason, I'm convinced that place is a petre dish. The only silver lining I can see to having sickly coworkers is that by time I'm done working there I'll be immune to most known diseases... or I'll be dead. We shall see!

Which reminds me I need to do some serious scrubbing because some crazy patron insisted on shaking hands with me. I obliged his request but then couldn't help but think "If I have to wait much longer to wash my hand I may have to amputate."

And then how will I masturbate.

(Okay Okay I'm being dramatic but I like to stand by my stereotype that true crazy people are just covered in their own feces).

This man told me his whole life story and now you will hear about it too so you can vicariously experience my misery. To set the mood imagine a man with an oddly hairy nose (not just nose hair like hair ON his nose) wearing a grease-stained shirt, frayed cut off jeans, who spits a lot when he talks. Nooooooooow GO!

He's having problems getting a job even though he has a law degree, a Masters in Library Sciences, and some other special certification. He's against the war in Iraq. He likes to visit the people on the 2nd floor of the Library of Congress and thinks I should work there too. He doesn't like the governor of Maryland because he somehow cut funding to the Library of Congress. He's had to take a lot of crappy odd jobs as a result of underfund and he told me about a lot of websites I should go visit even though he expressed disdain for everything going on the internet. He then asks:

Crazy: Yeah does Dina still work here?

Your Hero: Who?

Crazy: Deana... Diana? She leads this place...

Your Hero: Do you mean [Miriam]?

Crazy: That's it! Yeah...I'm really good friends with her.

From there he handed me his resume and talked about a book his father wrote, which for some reason required him to hand me another piece of paper he had been carrying around on a clip board. After asking me whether I had visited the Law Library up the road (there isn't one) and if I'd been to Ocean City this summer, he left in a cloud of crazy dust and vanished from my life.

I then took the time to look over his resume and the paper about his father's book which he had so graciously given me.

Here are the highlights:

"Todays'=Date Summer of 2000
www.vadrs.gov/dss/
TO: Miss Wand Felds, Gwen Crenshaw, Daisey thompson
'The Career Key.' Larry K. Jones

Mr. and Mrs.David (in Jsophine Ciccoine 1541, 1989) Solomon
Mr. and Mrs.David W. Ostrow=
Our Kensington Towers to Huntington Village
Please send ORIOLES/ RAVENS World Series and Super Bowl Tickets

THIRD DECADE
????= 1976, 1989-1991, Janurary 2nd, 2001 at 5:29 AM
Army Times/ Stars and Stripes
A Better WAY To RESOLVE the IRAQI GOVERNMENT = A VICTORY, AGAIN
Donald Rumsfeld, Tom Snow, United States
Contact Dr. Florence Pulwers, PHD
after January 2nd, 2001 at 5:29 AM"

With qualifications like those, how can he not get a job?

Normally I would have reflected on the sad state and poor treatment of the mentally ill in our society and the stigmas they must over come when trying get gainful employment... but I was too busy thinking about how I had to soak my hand in bleach.

So it goes.

2:^)

Watch Out Heidi Klum and Tim Gun The Next Generation Is Right Here

2006-07-30T18:36:00.000-04:00

I was just watching Project Runway and it brought back fond memories of my own brief stint as a fashion designer which I thought I would share with all of you:

STOP LOOKING AT MY CROTCH!

(Okay okay look at my crotch all you want, but get all your "Looks like you're smuggling grapes" jokes out of your system now before you journey towards my comments section.)

Ahem. I call my design Gay Pride Tin Man. Not featured is a construction paper flower that went on my lapel which my friend made for me soon after this picture was taken. The purpose of this outfit was a friend's No Clothes theme party in which you make your clothes out of objects around your house (why did I bother to explain that). I cheated and used some real clothes but don't tell anyone. This will be our little secret.

Anyway if you would like create your own duct tape outfit all you need is the following things:

- Duct Tape
- Newspaper
- Construction Paper
- Festive wrapping paper
- Too Much Time On Your Hands

And the most important ingredient of all

- ALCOHOL

Oh yeah and carry around a roll of duct tape (as can be seen on my left arm in the picture) because you will split seams in all the worst places. Especially the crotchal region.

Needless to say I made quite the spectacle of myself... but I didn't need a duct tape suit to do that.

2:^)

It's Like Prostitution Only Less Herpes

2006-07-29T11:55:00.000-04:00

So for some reason I thought it would be fun to try out this nature thing all the kids are talking about these days...and in the minute I was outside I managed to walk through a spider web, get attacked by a bug, and started sweating in places I didn't even know could sweat.

Ah well, better luck next time.

A few weeks ago I sent out graduation announcements* (despite the fact that I graduated in early May) and now I am eagerly anticipating ~~the money that will be rolling in~~ the kind words and adulation that are coming my way. So far I've received two cards back and all I can say is ~~Cha-Ching!~~ that I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have a loving family who appreciates me and relishes in my accomplishments.

It dawned on me, however, after opening their letters that this would mean that I have to write the ever dreaded... Thank You Note! My least favorite thing in the world!!! But I think I'm going to make it fun this time around, for myself mostly, by doing the following.

I'm a big fan of public television and my favorite thing to watch are those pledge drives that everyone thinks are stupid and annoying. I simply enjoy them because for an outrageous donation you can get a really crappy pretentious gifts. For instance, a 250 dollar pledge will get you a cassette tape of a Javanese Gamelan ensemble, a VHS of a Kabuki play, an umbrella, and it'll all come in a tote bag embellished with the Public television logo!

This is exactly the approach I want to use for my Thank You Notes.

Your pledge of $0 to 25 dollars will get you the following message:

"Thanks..."

25+ to 50:

"Thanks...

Love,

[StuckingFupid]"

50+ to 100:

I will answer whatever stupid question you asked me in your letter no matter how many times you've asked me it before like what I plan to do after college, which I've already told you thrice! You will also receive the following message:

"Thanks!!!

Love always,

[StuckingFupid]"

100+:

You will receive all of the above, plus I will hug you at our next family reunion/party/holiday event.

My love is for sale! And much like a public television tote bag, it doesn't come cheap.

2:^)

*Okay, okay my mother sent out graduation announcements but I did have it on my to do list! That counts for something right? Right?!?!

And So I'm Reminded You Can't Pick Your Family

2006-07-28T15:42:00.000-04:00

It figures that just as I swear off talking to My Pretend Future Husband Who Doesn't Know It Yet, he messages me and asks me to go to a club with him. My mutant facial distinguishing mark *coughpimplecough* prevented me from going out, but it was nice to know he wanted to hang out with me and therefore wants to have my adopted babies.*

In other news, if I don't kill my father by the end of the day I think I'll have earned sainthood.
And so the story of my day begins...

I took off work so that I could take my car in to get the air conditioner fixed. Last night my father said that he would need me to drive my car over there with him so I would absolutely have to be ready to leave by quarter of 8. I told him to come knock on my door a little before quarter of 8 and I would throw on some clothes and we could go.

So I'm up well before 8, eyes closed but awake, just enjoying the comfort of my warm bed when I get the signal that it is go time! I throw on my clothes real fast and yell to my father, who was in the bathroom, that I would be waiting for him downstairs. Time passes and suddenly I start to realize my dad wasn't just using the bathroom, he was taking a shower! which with his combination of creams and sprays and baby powder and ground elephant testicles (I don't know there's a whole cabinet full of crap he uses) meant he would be ready in about half an hour. Time I could have remained in bed. (Boiling Point: 60 minutes)

He lumbers down the stairs as I'm working on some stuff and asks me, "Well are you ready to go?" (Boiling Point: 33 minutes)

"LET'S GO!" I head to the door. He asks me if I need a bag to put stuff from my car in (since things tend to mysteriously disappear when I take it in) and I tell him no because the only thing I care about taking out is my car charger (which has "disappeared" before).

I rush out the door eager to get this over with and as I'm stepping into the car, he tries to hand me a bag. (Boiling Point: 26 minutes) I slam the car door in his face as he stands there, bag in hand, staring at me. I simply start up my car, turn on the radio, and prepare to drive. He takes the hint. We go drop off my car and he offers to take me out to breakfast. I agree, not wanting to cook, so he takes me to... uggh... Friendlys (Boiling Point: 10 minutes)

My father has been trying to get me to join the Knights of Columbus for years and it wasn't until I came out of the closet that he finally stopped asking me (which if I had known I would have come out years ago). So instead of trying to get me to join, he talks to me about his trials and tribulations as Chief Grand Knight or whatever of the organization. I blankly stare at him as he goes on to talk about how they might have to combine councils due to low participation. (Boiling Point: 1 minutes)

Your Hero: That's nice...

Papa Bear: Haha, I forget you're not a morning type of person. (Boiling Point: Imminent *Cue steam shooting out of my ears and fire breath!!!)

Your Hero: I'm not a you type of person. Speaking of this morning...

I then launch into a tirade against him in which I ask when we were supposed to leave this morning, whether he had heard me when I said I didn't need a bag, and a host of other stupid things that had been irritating me all morning. I wasn't mistaken about anything and he had heard everything I had said. His final response was:

Papa Bear: Much to do about nothing. *Throws hands up in the air.*

Being the Drama King that I am I couldn't possibly let it rest there.

Your Hero: The issue is not the bag or when we were supposed to leave, but the fact that you don't listen to what other people have to say to you or worse, you do listen to what we say and ignore it. Don't you see how someone might construe that as disrespectful and rude? Is that much to do about nothing?

Papa Bear: I'm sorry...

Your Hero: That would mean something if you took my words to heart and didn't do it again but I know you're going to. You know you're going to. I could go home and ask [my sister] and she'd say you're just going to do it again too.

My father was in silence as were the rest of the people in the restaurant who had begun eavesdropping. The waitress came.

Your Hero: I'll have the Super-Big-Two Combo meal, please.

And I don't know whether it was my dad's humilation or the sweet release of all that pent up annoyance, but that crumby meal tasted like a bite of baby Jesus. Is this what victory tastes like?

We came home, business as usual and my dad instantly began to grate on my sister's nerves because he's the loud bull-in-a-china-shop type with everything he does, and she was trying to do work for school. Normally this would annoy me too but I was back at room temperature again and there was very little he could do to bother me again. After my sister complained that he needed to leave the room, my father disappears somewhere. Soon after the house phone rings. My sister stops working to answer it.

It's my father.

He's calling from our bathroom.

There's no toilet paper in there.

My sister lets out the most blood curdling.

Later I am relaxing in my room playing my game when my dad yells to me that they can't fix my car today because they need to order a condenser. I'll have to bring my car back when the part comes in. We need to go pick my car up. I say okay and go back to playing my game. A few minutes later he impatiently yells to me, "Are you ready to go?" Normally I would be annoyed because he didn't say we had to go right away or that he was in any sort of hurry but after the not so friendly incident at Friendlys I was feeling corgial towards him so I stopped playing my game and we headed out the door.

For some reason he decided to take the scenic route this time but again that's alright, I'm happy I'm joyful I'm rested I'm relaxed. Nothing can bring me down.

We pull into the garage and my dad goes to get my car. He's talking to the mechanic and then comes back to the car.

Papa Bear: They have to take out the condenser so they can order the part so they'll need to keep your car for two days, while they order the part and replace it.

Your Hero: Okay...

I was confused.

Papa Bear: I'll go put the deposit down.

Wheels are turning as he goes back to the mechanic to put the deposit down and continue to roll as my father gets back in the car and we start to drive home.

Your Hero: Wait a minute... didn't they know that they would need to take out the condenser so that they could order the part BEFORE they called you on the phone?

Papa Bear: Yeah but they needed me to put the deposit down and to give them the okay.

Your Hero: So did you know I didn't have to be here and bring me along anyway?

Papa Bear: ....

And so we drove off into the sunset, father and his son bonding in their own unique way... with me screaming at him like a howler monkey.

2:^)

*Okay okay the pimple wasn't the real reason, the real reason was because I had a questionable hook up with one of the birthday boys and have no desire to see him ever again if I can avoid it. But that's a whole 'nother entry entirely.

I Just Need To Think of A Cool Tag Name To Deface Things With

2006-07-27T18:35:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning to discover the world's largest pimple taking up prime real estate on the southern tip of my chin. Part of me suspects that it is because I did not get my daily fruit (singular) allowance in the other day and this is my body's way of telling me it's craving an apple, and another part of me thinks my body is just rejecting my face. I can go for weeks without a single blemish and then all of a sudden my complexion looks like a minefield. This zit ain't jokin' around either. It has established quite the stronghold. It's one of those ones that kind of forms under the skin so nothing short of a cheese grater will reduce its appearance and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before it invites a few of its' friends to the party.

Oh well I don't have anyone to look nice for anyway. I haven't spoken to My Pretend Future Husband Who Doesn't Know It Yet in days in the hopes that just maybe he would miss me and realize his life is meaningless without me in it. But the other day I broke my talking-to-him fast by accidentally messaging him. And get this shit, he called me a lameass! I mean he was joking... and it was in response to me calling him a lameass...and he did it in an away message.. but still. This is a very bad sign for our pretend future relationship! How am I supposed to keep on pretend dating him when he doesn't show a shred of appreciation for me and degrades me so? I don't think I can tolerate his abuses much longer. I may pretend future divorce him or have a pretend affair if this nonsense keeps up. Unless of course, lameass is his term of endearment for me now. Awww... how cute! That's so much better than pumpkin or sugarbottom or something stupid like that. Maybe he IS pretend in love with me after all!

Still until he asks me out, I am reinstituting my conversation blockade with him forever!... or until the next time I talk to him. And yes I am an 11-year-old girl at heart.

Today was slightly less enervating than yesterday, though almost everyone in my office is getting sick for some reason. To me this means one of two things: One, I am soon going to come down with whatever plague is working its way through our building or two, I am typhoid Mary and everyone is getting sick because I am host to some disease which doesn't effect me.

Now it's just down to me, the reference librarian, the map librarian, and our Indian Graduate assistant who might quit at any minute because anything makes her shake like a leaf. Lemme explain. Around the office we like to play a little game called "What's making that weird noise?" and when the answer isn't me, it is invariably the air conditioner. The other day it was making some odd sound which kept growing louder and louder and the Indian graduate assistant was telling everyone she was afraid it was going to explode. Being the comforting person that I am, I assured her that her cubicle was well within the blast radius of the air conditioning unit and later, when I walked back into the office, it was turned off. AHAHAAHHAA!

When I wasn't making my coworkers paranoid I was busy trying not to fall asleep. Very boring day, so I decided to take a little tour of the bathrooms (which I don't actually use because I've got a mild phobia of public restrooms). After checking out my monster pimple in the mirror, which by that time had grown even larger (if it keeps up at this rate it may be able to declare statehood), and I journeyed into the stalls to check out the graffiti it had to offer. To my surprise there wasn't any in the first or last (the handicapped) stall, but the middle stall certainly delivered.

First there were the sage words of advice, "Smoke weed everyday" followed by some political commentary in the form of "Give peace a chance Kill W". The illustrations were a bit of a let down - an indescribable gang symbol with little googly eyes and the World Wrestling Federation logo, but I was certainly pleased by one comment.

"I wear thongs" scrawled on the stall door with a thick permanent pen. This last piece excites me for some reason. I don't know whether I'm more tickled by the idea of a girl using the men's bathroom or some thong-lovin' guy excitedly expressing his appreciation for his underwear, but either way I LOVE it.

It kind of makes me want to bring my own contribution to the table... err wall, but I don't want to be unoriginal, I want to entertain people or at the very least make them go "What the fuck?!" while they're doin' their business. I was thinking maybe I would write a word search or better yet a scavenger hunt where you have to look at various parts of the stall to find the answers to a riddle. The possibilities are endless... I don't know when I'll be able to do it though, what with my busy schedule of dropping pencils into the map cases and hiding in the microfiche room. One man can only be so productive for so long...

In the meantime I'll definitely be brainstorming... while I should be like doing stuff at work and figuring out how the hell to get rid of this pox on my chin. Gah!

Does anyone have any secrets? Tooth paste? Special astringent? Virgin's blood?

2:^)

The Unspoken Feud

2006-07-26T18:33:00.000-04:00

Now I'm not sure whether I should write about this on the interweb, in fear that it might insight something, but I think my department might be in some sort of a gang war with the East Asian Collection Staff. There is an area over by the China stacks which my staff has been using as storage space for books and I've heard rumblings that the East Asian staff has been pressuring my team to get those boxes out there so that they can use the area.

Rather than risk their own lives though, the librarians have sent the other student assistant and I into their territory to clear out those boxes, which while I'm on the subject, are so covered in filth that I come out looking like a coal miner. It turns out that several of the East Asian staffers have noticed our efforts, some even coming up to the other student assistand and excitedly asking him what we're working on. He doesn't have the heart to tell them, but the only reason we are clearing out those boxes is because we have twice as many coming tomorrow. AHAHAH!

I'm kind of afraid that they might have found out though because ever since we talked about this the other day, they've been giving me dirty looks. Of course that could just be because I am the embodiment of western culture I like to think they disdain. I'm just glad I have a box cutter or else I might be in serious danger because I'm always on their turf.

The two staffs are like night and day. We're mostly white, they're mostly (surprise) asian, and our differences are further exaggerated by our side of the floor being a group study area and theirs being a quiet study room. I thought this whole gang fight idea was just a figment of my imagination until I was reshelving some books today and discovered the following scrawled on our stacks:

Now I don't know chinese and I'm not even sure if this is chinese, but roughly translated, I think it means "Stay off of the East Asian side...or else... whitey!"*

Whitey! Thems fightin' words. Though I'm pretty sure that if it came down to it their side would kill us because I like to think that all Asian people know karate even though I don't know a single Asian person who does.

Yep they'd definitely destroy us. And then they would steal all of our carts which have been systematically stolen from every other part of the library and never returned. We've got a wealth of carts and the East Asian staff has been using shopping carts to push their goods around. If that's not reason enough to throw down, I don't know what is. It would seem it's only a matter of time....

Until then I will keep my box cutter close to my heart and my fighting spirit alive.

2:^)

*If anyone actually knows what that means feel free to tell me.

Well Ain't Life Just A Bowl of Cherries... I Fuckin' Hate Cherries

2006-07-24T19:05:00.000-04:00

I have a friend who is currently working at a camp on Catalina Island in California and every few weeks she sends all of us an update on how she's fairing. To set the tone for one of her emails think fairies and unicorns dancing on a rainbow bridge over a chocolate river, and this is pretty much the mindset that my dear friend inhabits 24/7. Some may think she's just a happy go lucky person, I just think she's mentally ill. I don't know how I managed to live with her for a year, but we get along pretty well even though I am what some may call a black hole of human despair.

A few days ago we received the latest installment, which was entitled, "Sunny days are here to stay". Uggh... already I was cringing, but after reading a bit into it, it would appear that all is not well in the world of gum drop rainfalls and licorice roads (okay I'm done with the cutesy imagery). A dark cloud had cast itself over the isle of Catalina in the form of a young camper. She began, "The older kids are cooler then I could have ever imagined and they have inspired me and at the same time made me question whether or not I was in the right profession. One day out of the past 21 really stands out in my mind..." And what pray tell was this soul crushing experience that nearly pushed her to the brink and made her reevaluate her life?

It turns out that one particularly "tough" camper who she "didn't connect with until the 2nd to last day of class" had the audacity to say to her "its not my [fault] that you're an angry biologist that doesn't get paid anything". Oh snap! And get this, he had said it in such a condescending way that she was so deeply hurt she had to go windsurfing to work out her pain! When that didn't work she went to her supervisor who goes by the name... Butterkup... oh lord... okay I swallowed the vomit, and she talked to her about her troubled student. Butterkup went and gave the boy a stern talking to, while my friend went repelling off a pier with some fellow counselors in order to talk out how to handle the situation.

Then comes one of those early 90s sitcom moments when the music gets all sappy and people start hugging, which explains why the email is so aptly titled "Sunny days are here to stay".

It turns out the child had spoken to his parents and told them he wanted to be a marine biologist, and they asked him, "Why would you want to do that you won't make any money?" The child later apologized to my friend and they were finally able to bond together and become close friends.

The End.

Now see, if I were in that situation I would have maybe brought up the point that my biology degree allowed me to move across the country to a beautiful island where I've got my own bungalow and all I do is jump off piers and windsurf all day, but maybe that's just me. Actually if it was me, I would have laid such a hurt down on that little prepubescent that his children would be emotionally traumatized by the verbal beat down he received from me. I mean come ON already. I have never and will never understand people that let others disrespect them like that and get away with it, but I'm also mouthy and too stupid to know when to keep my mouth shut so maybe I'm not capable of comprehending big ideas like forgiveness and social graces. Still that little runt would rue the day. Mark my words.

But seriously if that is the roughest thing my friend has had to endure in her life in Catalina I would hate to see her have to teach at an inner city classroom. Her head would probably just up and explode.

...and ladybugs and butterflies would come flying out. (I know I said I'd stop but I just couldn't help myself).

2 days down 3 to go until the Freakin' Weekend!

2:^)

Sex, Romance, Betrayal! - None Of These Things Are In This Entry

2006-07-24T18:49:00.000-04:00

Every once in awhile I'm forced to buy my lunch at work because my mother, in her age, seems to forget when she goes grocery shopping that a) she is feeding a family of four and b) that some people like to eat more than one meal a day. So on those days when my kitchen pantry leaves me wanting, I purchase my food from one of the local eateries here on campus. Today I was lured in by the Student Union's promise of a Subway "restaurant"* and for the second time I have been unable to locate it in that massive rat maze of a building. I know it exists. I've seen people walking around flaunting their Subway subs wrapped in little Subway branded bags holding Subway decal-ed cups, and yet I have searched that place high and low and can't seem to find it anywhere! This is very disappointing, especially because I really had a craving for a meatball sub today. Mmm 'ball sub. But instead, I once again had to settle for the reconstituted meat product they're offering up over at the Chik-fil-a.

I suppose I could always ask the information desk which is conveniently located by the entrance I use to get into the building, but they will probably direct me on how to get lost, and I am determined to find that Subway on my own... or die trying (by eating McDonalds... speeeewww)! I'm beginning to suspect it's like Valhalla... where only the worthy get to see it, but whatever the case may be this will now be my quest. As God is my witness, I will find the Subway!

Is it sad that while some people wait their entire lifetime to go on spiritual pilgrimages to see Mecca or the Holy Land, my equivalent is the Student Union Subway?

The answer is yes. Moving on.

I think I have peaked in my folder misnaming scheme. I thought I had hit a slump there when the only 3 letter words I could create were Hog and Man, but then today I remembered the rule where if you have to move more than 5 maps then we will just use 5 to 7 characters for labeling those folders and that was when I strategically left a map where it was so that the label will have to read:

Mud Butt! AHAHAHAHAH (it was originally Mud Butte)

....and I'm officially back in the 5th grade again. But seriously that's about as good as it gets. There's nowhere to go but down from here... or up depending on how you look at it.

Other than that, it has been a rather boring around the library today (shocking, I know), but we managed to entertain ourselves with the many funny titles we find lying around this hell hole. Here's a small sample:

So you think you have Malaria? (A Pamphlet)

A Guide to Telling the Difference Between Bolts and Screws (20 pages long!!!)

And my personal favorites...

Step Into Action!: A Guide Book for the Above-Knee Amputee

How to Spot a Jap.

The last book is the most racist and hilarious thing I have ever read in my life. It's from World War II and details how to tell the difference between a Japanese person and a Chinese person (or Chinamen as they would be so apt to say). What I learned from this book is that Chinese people look and act more European while Japanese people have no waists and are afraid of democracy. And get this - it's illustrated! Which truly makes it seem more legitimate and assures me that everything it says gots to be true.

So if anybody is having any troubles telling their Asians apart just let me know. (This Just In: I found it online! Here you have it folks: How To Spot A Jap Enjoy!)

Alright that's enough rambling for one day. Hope everybody is having a great week so far!

2:^)

*How can those Subway advertising monkeys in good conscience call that franchise a restaurant when your food is made in an assembly line. I suppose the boundary between a restaurant and a face food joint is similar to the fine line between art and pornography in that you can't necessarily describe it but you know the difference when you see it.

Who Needs Enemies When You Have Friends?

2006-07-23T14:41:00.000-04:00

This may make me a horrible human being but I honestly think that I'm happiest when all my friends are miserable. And boy did graduation ever deliver! All those people who made fun of me for taking unpaid internships throughout my college experience are now hurting on the job marketing because, surprise, surprise, their part-time jobs at the Chicken Shack didn't prepare them for the real world. HAH! Not to mention those friends who don't even know what they want to do with their degrees (or worse can't do anything with their degrees) and are currently scrounging for a real job because they have been given the boot from their parents' health insurance plan. Double HAH!

And some of them didn't get into their graduate programs ahahahahaha

But still despite my reveling in their misfortune, a small part of my black little heart goes out to them and I have become, dare I say it, maternal in my concern.

For instance my one friend is determined to make it on her own. She was a sociology anthropology major and she hated everything about her degree, yet despite not having a job or any sorts of funds, she moved into an house with three other guys and has taken on a series of odd jobs to pay the rent. Factor in that she can't drive a car, refuses to let her parents teach her, and is therefore limited in both her job and housing options because she has to be near a metro stop, well lets just say you've got all the makings of a category 5 Shit Storm because, unless she wants to live in North Crackton or Upper Hobotown, it ain't gonna be cheap.

So far she has sold jewelry for a crazy woman, played counselor at a bike camp (which she's not very good at because most of the kids don't speak English and she knows absolutely nothing about bikes), and I think her current gig involves busting tables at the Cheesecake Factory. Ah what your degree can earn you.

One day she visited me at my work and she was holding some CDs. This was at the height of World Cup so she was assaulting me with tales of her experiences with the little hoodrats that go to her camp. Like how the camp leader asked the children to raise their hands if they play soccer, one child didn't and another yelled, "Jose you know you play soccer, you Spanish".

Children truly are our future. 2:^/

So as she's telling me this I can't help but notice the CDs that she keeps waving around in her hands.

Your Hero: What are those for?
Dumbass: Oh, I'm taking these to Record and Tape Traders to sell them for metro fare home.

She was going to go hock CDs for money! Sell her personal belongings or else she couldn't get home because she didn't have a dollar to her name! I wanted to hold her close and not let her go until she came to her senses but instead I did what any good friend would do and made fun of her. If she isn't prostituting herself within a month I'll be very disappointed in her. Until then she will be serving as a constant reminder that if I ever find myself having to grift for gas money I'll be packed up and moving back in with my parents before you can say "unemployment check".

Last I heard she had visited her family while they weren't home so she could do some "grocery shopping" because, when taking on her jobs, she did not take into account budgeting for things like... food. You know those basic life necessities are hard to remember sometimes.

Oh brother.

At least I can still be friends with her because she's struggling... unlike some of my other friends who, though unemployed, are desperately in love with their BOYFRIENDS and one even has that gall to go and get ENGAGED. As a new mother, I do NOT approve of these boys. Not because my friends don't deserve these men (I know these guys and to say they look like they're missing a chromosome or two is to put it nicely), but that I should be firmly established in a relationship before they go finding the loves of their lives. That's just how it works. If I'm not happy, no one's happy. Otherwise it's just depressing that they can find people while bein' all sorts of retarded and here I am playin' with my balls. I mean I'm pretty fun and not hard on the eyes. Behold:
I mean sure... it's an artist rendition but with my rosy glow, messy brown hair, and charming personality I should have to barricade the door to keep the men folks out. But no, instead those fools are out gallivanting around with boyfriends linked to their arms while I am here writing blog entries about it.

I can't even remember the last person I was involved with... okay I do and the last thing I ever said to him was "I hope you don't become a statistic!" but I can't remember the last person before the last person and that is very unsettling. It's not like my standards are too picky either, I mean at this point I just want a man with a birth certificate and all of his teeth who isn't a heavy weight contender or barely legal. That's not asking for much is it? Is it?!?!

Oh well I can't get too depressed by my friends' happy relationships. After all they'll most likely result in heart-wrenching break ups which I will eat up with a spoon... And then there's the case of the engaged one where there's a 50/50 shot of that marriage gone' down the pooper (or in her case 80/20 because she demanded a ring before graduation).

But once that's all done with, I'll back on top again, standing on the rubble of their ruined love lives... With my amazing boyfriend... who I'll be living with... in a mansion... on the moon... oh gawd I gotta go

2:^)

The Middle East

2006-07-21T19:57:00.000-04:00

I don't like to write about politics in my blog because it is a very divisive issue, but with recent events in the Middle East I find it very hard to ignore what's going on in the world. As a socially conscious individual, I can't help but weigh in.

Many critics and historians have argued that the reason the Middle East is such a hotbed of violence, war, and destruction can be attributed to the fact that it is geographically the origin of many of the world's religions and a great melting pot of various cultures and ethnicities who all have stakes in the area which results in conflict. While these differences do exist, I believe the reason for the current state of the Middle East does not have to do with any of these factors, but rather due to these countries having a short supply of ice cream.

Imagine it's 110 degrees outside, you're dressed in robes, and the only thing you have to relieve yourself from the relentless heat is a warm bowl of sand. If I were in that situation I would be making pipe bombs and blowing up buses too in the hopes that the blast would at least generate a cooling breeze.

Tempers rage when temperatures rise, at least I know mine do. My air conditioning doesn't work in my car and if its a blistering hot day and you cut me off without giving me so much as a courtesy wave, as far as I'm concerned that gives me license to kill you... or at the very least honk and give you the one finger salute.

I'm not thinking about God at those moments, I'm too busy focusing on the beads of sweat rolling down my back and my headache which feels like a baby bird trying to hatch its way through my skull. And I am NOT prone to road rage by any means. In fact my friends often comment on how passive I am behind the wheel. I manage my Buddha-like zen driving state by being a terrible driver and constantly assuming I am the one at fault, however, for some reason when you add heat in the equation every mother humpin' person on the highway is an idiot flouting all the rules of the road just to screw me over and prevent me from quickly and efficiently commuting to and fro my destinations.

I don't know how the heat does it, but it does it. And the only thing keeping me from smashing my car into the back of your wreckless driving self is the thought that when I get home I can sit down and cool off with a creamy, delicious bowl of ice cream:

Well... that and I don't want to get sued or total my car or go to prison or...

yeah. Yay ice cream!

2:^)

I'm Like A Teletubby But Gayer (If That's Possible)

2006-07-21T19:18:00.000-04:00

This entry brought to you from the Reference Desk (but not posted until right now because I don't really want my coworkers finding my blog).

Gah finally I got the chance to use the computer! There's this man that is always scheduled for the reference desk right before me - Bill or Tom or Jim whatever I don't actually know what his real name is I just call him Generic Named Guy. Well he's scheduled for 3 hours every Friday and all he does is make personal calls and look at sports websites all day. He's not even with my department so for all I know he doesn't even work here. Whatever the case may be, it never fails that right before it's my turn to take over the reference desk he starts composing an email or looking at a website (today he did both) which take him well beyond his 3 hour mark. I find this to be very inconsiderate and frustrating because it takes precious precious minutes away from my online time in which I could be composing whiney blog entries like this one about people like him. That man owes me 10 reference desk minutes and I will pay him back... with a vengeance! Someday, somehow...

Speaking of my maturity, one of the ways I've been trying to train myself for the real world is by breaking myself of my fucking swearing habit. I drop a book and I drop an expletive, I forget to do something and I forget where I am and use an expletive, I bang my toe and I bang an expletive errr okay that last one didn't work so much... but still I've tried everything. Foreign curse words worked for a little while except some sound a little too close to their American equivalent, or worse, don't sound the same at all so I couldn't catch myself saying shit... and then change it into mierda. Shiiierda see doesn't work. What a bind!

The only prescription that seems to have cured me of my filthy whorish mouth is replacing my bad language with cutesy words. For example, I say Sugar Honey Iced Tea (Hold the Lemon) instead of shit and fudgicles instead fuck. That sorta thing. The only problem now is that I'm walking around the office sounding like a children's television program and I think I might have to cure myself of my cursing cure habit before I ruin my image as a cold, heartless bastard. Bastard! I haven't found a replacement for that one yet, so I sound even more ridiculous because I censor myself only with the words I've found legitimate replacements for.

I think I might just have to phase out talking altogether. Do they have cross words in American Sign Language?

I need help before it's too late. Seriously. Someone stop me before I start sounding like that Meg woman (if that IS her REAL name) over at Cute Overload. Now I'm not one to speak ill of one of my fellow bloggers... oh who am I kidding I'm a bitchy malcontent and that's exactly the kind of thing I'd do but I fear the Curator of Cute may be... how shall I phrase this delicately... borderline retarded (it was that or heavily medicated that's at nice as I get). I mean I LOVE animals as much as the next boy lover and I loooove Cute Overload lots, I just don't like to admit it, but the captions for the pictures have GOT to go... or stay because that'll just give me something to make fun of like I'm doing right now.

Anyway a cute asian patron is in need of my services and he thinks I'm looking up his request right now. HAH jokes on that fool. If you need me I'll be in the stacks, just follow the sounds of someone dropping books and yelling "Son of a biscuit!"

Seriously people I must be stopped!

2:^)

Livin' La Vida Loca*

2006-07-20T18:56:00.000-04:00

I was devastatingly early to work today so I did not get to commence with my calling in late for work plan and the rest of the day went on relatively without incident except that my librarianing nemesis complemented me. She said I did an excellent job on something I had completely forgotten I had done a week or two back and from there she started talking to me about World War II knitting while she photocopied a children's crocheting book. Fortunately for me the copier jammed during the conversation and I used this distraction as an opportunity to run away. Haha just like squid ink.

Hmm maybe she hates me because I show no interest in our conversations... nah

Many of you may ask how one gets through the fast-paced, high-octane, glamorous life of a librarian employee, and let me tell you it's not easy but I will reveal my secrets to you. I manage to make it through the day by A) looking at obscure websites, B) taking grainy low-quality pictures of strangers on my camera phone, and C) purposefully fudging my assignments.

Obscure Sites Quarterly:

Here is what we in the business like to call a beard weirdo or beardo:

(Picture care of USA Beard care of David E. Carmazzi)

What's weird though is that I saw lots of photos where men with beards like the one above, were shown in the thick of a throng of women - they have Beard and Mustache Hags! Oh yeah they're everywhere. If you want a woman fast get yourself some crazy facial hair and you'll be fighting off the wimmens with a pointy stick (hiyooo double entendre).

The only way thing that would complete this man's appearance would be a meat hat

My Budding Career as a Stalkerazzi:

There is this adorable little man whose name is, I shit you not, Mr. Peacock (insert candlestick in the observatory joke here). More often than not though I refer to him as the World's Oldest Man because... well here see for yourself:

Yes I am available to be hired for Weddings and Bar Mitzvahs. Prints of this photo can be ordered for $10.

That glowing thing to the left is Mr. Peacock, complete with hump, eating his little sandwich that he made himself. Being the amateur that I am I completely forgot to turn off the flash on my camera but Mr. Peacock didn't seem to notice or care as he just went on gumming his food. Dining with him is the enormous blue bag he carries EVERYWHERE he goes/shuffles. Normally I would be afraid of mentioning his real name and showing his real picture except for that fact I'm pretty sure the last of his kin died during the Ice Age. So we're all set!

When Mr. Peacock isn't wandering around the floor of my library and asking my Korean coworker how to say things in Chinese, he's busy sharting out a lung in our bathrooms. Today I was checking for duplicate copies of books when he shuffles past me at top speeds toward the bathroom. Being a good 20 feet away from the bathroom, you would think I wouldn't be able to hear anything but oh no no my friends. I. Heard. Everything. The acoustics must be amazing in there because I could have sworn he was crapping into a microphone. If I ever built an amphitheater I'm definitely modeling it after that stall. For serious.

Anyway he ambled out not a care in the world, no idea was I was standing in there in horror thinking about what that bathroom probably looked/smelt/etc.ed like after he had his way with it.

Message In A Map Case:

For over a week the student assistants and volunteers at the library have tirelessly catalogued part of the map collection at our library and now one of the librarians wants to label those maps without going over 6 characters for some reason. This is a problem because many of the folders will go like this. The first folder will be North Crackton to Shithead Town, the second folder will be Shitland to TugJobton.

The horror! The folders would say Nor thru Shi and Shi through Tug. Two SHIs?!? The patrons will get confused!!!

So now it is our job to go back through the maps and move maps around so that such a duplication does not occur. If we have to move more than 5 maps though he said we will go with 8 characters for those.

I can proudly say that I have not followed directions once and have in fact purposefully shifted more maps than necessary because I cam across such titles as Gaylord and Jewel which when broken down to 6 characters is Gay and Jew. Teeheehee

It's like the DaVinci Code... but for idiots!

And I'm damn proud of my work.

Here's to another day of not getting fired.

2:^)

Linkity Love:

CyberPete
Jason
Old Man Six Shooter
WhiteFlameNZ

*Yes I do hate myself for quoting Ricky Martin in the title of this entry.

Workin' Hard for the Money

2006-07-19T18:08:00.000-04:00

After today I am about 95% sure that my coworkers completely hate me.
Exhibit A:

I'm not sure who my boss is so I always email the woman who gave me my job. Today my father, Papa Bear, was taking my car in to have the air conditioning checked out by a mechanic friend at his work so as a professional curtesy (which I was never asked to do) I emailed this woman just to let her know I would be arriving late.

Here is her response:

"Oh no... we'll miss you ;)"

I almost drowned in the sarcasm. But I can appreciate that because I am perhaps the most sarcastic person I know and everytime she says something to me along the lines of "Want me to train you on statistics materials?" I overenthusiastically reply, "THAT WOULD BE MY DREAM!!!" But still... ouch.

Exhibit B:

I finished all my work and I asked my coworker if there was anything I could work on and to paraphrase she told me she was too lazy to give me one of her assignments because it would take too long to explain things to me.

Exhibit C:

I arrived at work late today (because of aforementioned circumstances) and another woman I work with asked, "Hey.... did you... change your hours or something?"

I then went down my laundry list of reasons as to why I have not been arriving at 10 like I usually do this week (all legitimate such as the surprise construction they are doing on my route which closes down the right lane of traffic and adds an extra 30 minutes to my commute) to which she replies, "Well could you let me know because I'm usually the first one in in the mornings." To which I replied I do contact people when I'm going to be late, I just haven't been contacting you because I don't have your contact information. "Yeah... you can find that on our website." You can find that on our website....

You can find this on my website!

Meanwhile she was perfectly perky the whole time she said all this so I'm not exactly sure how to react to this conversation. I do, however, know that I will be contacting her by email and phone every time I'm going to be so much as a millisecond late.

Oh yeah, she's created a monster. She just hasn't realized it yet.

So much for not talking about my coworkers haha From now on going to work will just be code for trying not to get fired 9 to 5.

2:^)

Feel the Burn

2006-07-18T18:35:00.000-04:00

Uggh it was so hot today I sweat completely through my shirt and probably would have sweat through my backpack too if I had been outside any longer. I literally toweled down as soon as I got to the library and even then I was still soaking wet.

I've taken to bringing a nalgene with me to and from work because I don't have air conditioning in my car and I have visions of getting heat stroke and being baked alive in my car... especially after I narrowly missed an accident which caused a 5 hour delay on the route I take to work. 5 hours?!!?!?! From what I remember there was a gas tanker and a tractor trailer involved and maybe a meteorite. I really don't know I don't pay attention to the news.

Still I finished my nalgene of water before I even got to work and barely made it in. Ah well... once there I was good because my sweat froze to my body in the library.

Speaking of the library I was eating my lunch today and I think some hot Jewish guy was checking me out. He came with a yamaca and everything! (In reality aforementioned Jewish guy was either A) just looking around as he wrote, B) waiting for someone and checking to see if they arrived, or C) was doing a social behavior psychology experiment and focused on me because I make a lot of crazy arm gestures when I do everything because I am as gay as the men's locker room at the Olympics). Still I like to think that he was thinking about renouncing his religion to be with me.

It must be nice to have attractive people checking you out. All I get are fat latino/african American guys and little boys hitting on me - EVEN ON MYSPACE. (Editor's Note: I have nothing against fat guys or minorities as I have made out with a couple chunky monkeys in my time including a black guy. I'm not racist I hate everybody equally). But at least on myspace I can fuck around with them. I give them my AIM screenname that I give to people I don't really know or like and then I talk to them and attempt to drive them away. My success rate is about 95% but some people are persistent even after I've talked about how I like to wear kitty cat ears or how that burning sensation just will. not. go. away.

It seems easier for the heteros to find people since they do have a bigger pool to find that other fish, but then again maybe not. Maybe they just settle faster. Like my coworker has been seeing this guy and they've been on a couple of dates and she says she doesn't know whether she likes him or not but she's always talking about him so of course that means she does. Well I'm pretty sure her lover boy stopped by work today and if that was him... well... to put it nicely he looks like a Frankenstein monster.

Is that going to be me? Settling for some ugly as sin mother fugger 'cause I'm so desperate for a date?

No, no, no of course not. That will be someone else... settling for me!

Okay I feel much better now that I'm not destined to be with a mutant in my golden years.

2:^)

Oh yeah and here is some linkity to love to all those people who have left me comments. Thank you very much! I love comments. They make me happy and they keep me from cutting myself*

Amopodex
DonDon009
GolfWidow
Hot-Lunch
KungFuKitten
Ric
SixShooter
Spider

*I have never cut myself intentionally nor will I ever because I'm deathly afraid of anything sharper than a spoon. I do not condone cutting and I don't find cutting humor to be in the least bit.**

** Okay maybe a little bit but that's because I am a terrible human being. I give you permission to hate me for my callousness.

A Learning Experience

2006-07-17T20:53:00.000-04:00

I wrote the following on a little notepad I carry around at work:

Even though it was about 100 degrees outside today, the weather inside was at least below zero. I'm not sure what type of airconditioning they have at the library but it could have given an eskimo frostbite. Fortunately, though it was inordinately hot today, there was a nice breeze which invited me to go take in a little natural light and fresh air.

While I feasted on a meal fit for kings - pretzels and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich - a bold little sparrow kept inching its way closer to me. It had some sort of white growth on its beak which I can only hope was a bread crumb or otherwise I may have that bird flu the kids are all talking about these days.

As I carefully guarded my bag of pretzels from that menacing litte bird, I carefully reflected on my experiences as a library helper monkey (or a student assistant as they like to call us). I've learned a lot from this job... not really about the librarianship profession but about myself. The librarians are always throwing library buzz words like cataloguing and backspacing and needs and offers at me but I'm hardly suckling from the teet of knowledge at my work. Instead I'm getting invaluable life skills and have become more aware of myself.

The first thing is that I talk to myself a lot.

Your Hero: And take that folder and put it over there and -

Coworker: What did you say?

Your Hero: Wha? Oh... nothing. I'm just talking to myself.

Coworker gives me strange look.

Your Hero: ...Now where was I, oh yes, here we go.

The second is that I am a shameless eye rapist of the highest order. It's hot out and all the athletes are on campus for sports practices and they are just takin' it all off. But rather than take a quick and subtle glance I am there eating my sandwich staring them down so hard I'm surprised they can't feel my eyes burrowing into them. I've yet to be called out on it or gay bashed or anything like that so I suppose it's not really eye rape but I'm certain most of these meatheads would pummel me within an inch of my life if they only knew. Until then...

Time has nothing to do with minutes or hours or half hours, it is all about food. As soon as I get to work I start thinking about my lunch break and as soon as I'm done my lunch break I think about dinner. The numbers on the clock are inconsequential. I don't look at them to see what time it is but to see what time it would be reasonable to take my lunch break.

I'm sure more pearls of inner wisdom will develop as I continue to work (if you considering checking your email 10,000 times a day and text messaging your friends from the stacks, work) and I look forward to seeing all my other ticks.

2:^)

Burnt Out

2006-07-16T14:53:00.000-04:00

Good news! Death didn't come for me after eating that apple yesterday nor did my body go into some sort of cardiac arrest from the nutrition so this is definitely a positive sign. Unfortunately though I do feel rather burnt out for reasons unbeknownst to me. Perhaps processing natural fiber takes a lot of energy out of you. I wouldn't know. Whatever the reason I have been a certifiable bump on a log as evidenced by the fact I woke up at the crack of 10 and all I've done is play videogames until I came upstairs to update this piece.

My life is just a crazy roller coaster like that sometimes.

Since I've started this blog I've been looking at a lot of people's diaries, particularly those of other gay bloggers which makes me feel sort of like an animal. My cat is kept indoors and she goes absolutely crazy when she sees another feline roaming about in the yard, even going so far as to stand up on her little hind legs and press her face against the window to get a better look. Same with my dog when she sees another pooch. She does this thing where she spins around, stops and looks, barks, spins around, lather, rinse, repeat. Being a gay, I am similarly fascinated and drawn to my own kind and have frequented lots-o-gay diaries in the past couple of days. I won't admit how many because I'll just embarrass myself.

But anyway, on my gay blog tour I have come to find that many seem to focus on either gay porn, pictures of hot guys, or my favorite of all - The Blogger's Own Sexcapades.

The latter are by and large my favorite simply because they are so GD ridiculous. Here is a simple formula for the typical sex blog entry:

1) You meet some random guy at a bar/club or you contact them online. The guy is, naturally, the most gorgeous person you've ever seen in your life even more gorgeous than that guy you said that about last week.
2) You take the guy back to your place or go back to his. Insert something about roommate/family being/not being home at the moment.
3) When removing clothing, you see that this guy is hung like a bull elephant, but never fear so are you.
4) Include every sexual innuendo in your repetoire, use lots of synonyms for male genitalia (my absolute favorite being f*** stick).
5) At this point someone is usually gone down on but sometimes you just get right down to it because this is your third guy today and you have a quota of 10 to fill before the end of the night.
6) Condoms are like water in the desert but one of the partners pulls lube out of nowhere like a magician's trick.
7) Bowchickabowwow some sort of jack hammering terminology is eventually used to describe the act.
8) Spread seed, wam bam thankya mam.
9) Finish off with some sort of line about how it was the best sex ever and how you'll definitely see the guy again.

Congratulations you're done! Now you never have to read another gay sex diary again oooor you can start writing you own.

This has been a Public Service Announcement Brought to you by Stucking Fupid.

2:^)

Apple Update

2006-07-15T16:04:00.000-04:00

So here is a before picture of my apple in all its red, juicy delicious glory.

WARNING: Do NOT stare directly at my legs or you may go blind from the paleness.

Look at that apple... all sweet and little and innocent.

And here's a picture of the apple after I got done trying to cut it into pretty neat little wedges like I saw my sister do when she was making a fruit salad:

That bitch made it look easy. Note I was attempting to cut the apple into 6 wedgies, ended up with 5 (that is if you don't count the fact that most of the pieces are still connected to each other because I didn't cut all the way through), and it took me so long to deseed them and cut out the stem thatthey got brown.

Apparently a college degree did NOT prepare me for apple cutting. Who would have thought?
So I was talking to my friend as I was eating my hacked up apple chunks.

Your Hero: Uggh... trying to eat an apple. I'm on a mission to eat more fruits and vegetables.

Jerkface: So you hate apples?

Your Hero: It's going to be a long long road... no I like them it's just that I take a bite and then my body is like, "I'm set now where's the pizza?"

Jerkface: haha Get a dessert pizza, they have apples in them.

Your Hero: Ew, one fruit at a time... that's my food policy and my man policy.

Jerkface: Apple pizza, I'm not saying a ton of fruit I'm saying one apple on a pizza

Your Hero: Ew, I like my foods like I like my schools...
Your Hero: Segregated!
Your Hero:... wait that's not right...okay I give up on analogies.

Jerkface: Right you should have said something more along the lines of 'I like my foods like the south'.

Your Hero: Mmm! This apple gets better after it's been sitting out for 10 minutes

Jerkface: Eww!

So I debated breaking out some peanut butter or maybe a little carmel to help facilitate the process but then decided no no no... I must do this cold turkey. Knowing me I'd throw the apple aside and then I'd be lying on the floor of my room in a diabetic coma because I ate an entire jar of carmel topping.

I must be strong and ever vigilant.

The apple took me approximately 45 minutes to finish - a new record!

Next up I'm thinking I'll take on an orange.

2:^)

It's Supposed To Be A Moose... I think...

2006-07-15T14:31:00.000-04:00

Chubbykins

2006-07-15T10:39:00.000-04:00

So one of the problems with being a skinny bitch is that people always think you need to eat more. I could finish a 3 course dinner and still have people forcing a baked ham down my gullet. Fortunately I was always up to the task, oftentimes eating people out of house and home and then wondering what was for dessert. I loved it, my friends who worked out and calorie counted every day hated me for it, which made me eat more and more and worse and worse just to see them turn red with anger. But now the race horse that was Mr. Metabolism seems to have injured himself starting out of the gate and now might have to be sent to the glue factory or put down with a bullet of... diet and exercise.

I wake up in a cold sweat just thinking about it. Instead of eating muffins I'll have to eat apples, instead of pasta I'll be having salad, instead of a 2000 calorie snack I'll only be eating 2000 calories a day!!! My soul aches!

Several Challenges Await Me:

1) I hate fruits and vegetables. Essentially if it is overprocessed and doesn't look like it came from nature I am all over it like a fat kid on a cupcake... or like me on a cupcake. Oh gawd!
2) I am a picky eater and a food white supremacist (i.e. I don't really like Indian, Thai, Chinese, etc. food just "American" food).
3) I don't like to do exercise that involves... movement. I get too out of breath doing most activities because I have self diagnosed myself with sports induced asthma. Also certain types of cardio such as running make my teeth hurt for some reason. Basically what I need is a machine that does the work for me that involves some sort of morphine drip and an oxygen tank so I don't feel any of it.

So with that said. I am going to start Operation: Taking The Hell Out Of Health.

Goal 1: Incorporate more fruits and vegetables into my diet.
Goal 2: Experiment with new and different foods.
Goal 3: Exercise more (and by that I mean start exercising).
Goal 4: Make doctor, optometrist, dentist appointments (since its been awhile and I hate them.)
Goal 5: Floss daily (flossing feels like barbed wire in my mouth but I don't want my teeth to look like a bombed city).

First up I am going to start where the Bible did. With an apple. Wish me luck.

I'll report back later on how that goes.

2:^)

A Day In The Life...

2006-07-14T19:28:00.000-04:00

Today I'm pretty sure my butt was trying to eat my underwear. No matter what I did I could NOT shake it loose. I even grew so bold as to pick my wedgie and my underwear still ended up tucked away in my crevices. Gah... next time... totally free balling.

So I don't like to talk ill of my coworkers because I always hear about these stories where people get fired because they called there bosses big hairy losers so instead I'm going to make fun of the woman who works for payroll.

I love this woman but only because she is carnival freak crazy!

To set the scene for you imagine a woman with a femullet who looks like she shops at Walmart for all of her clothing. Also imagine her speaking with a speech impediment that makes her sound like a 4 year old child.

And....go!

I enter the payroll office and am visually assaulted by pay roll lady. I take a moment to adjust to her and then ask:

You Hero: Hi is this where I pick up my checks?

Looney Toons: Yes it sure is can I have your social security number-just kidding we don't use that anymore to identify you anymore. They changed the policy. I just need your last name.

I say my last name.

Looney Toons: Monroe... Monroe... *Starts searching a binder*

Wrong! I repeat my last name.

Looney Toons: Orbin? Oh *Starts searching a different part of the binder*

I SPELL my last name.

Looney Toons: Oh I didn't think an Orbin worked here okay here we go *Searching wrong part of the binder still*

Your Hero: Sorry I must have mumbled... my last name begins with...

I start spelling my name when she interrupts with-

Looney Toons: Oooh are you independently wealthy do you want to marry me?! Haha

Your Hero: Wha? Oh yeah I've been forgetting to pick up my checks.

Looney Toons: If you can guess how many you got here I'll give them both to you.

Your Hero: Umm I should have two.

Looney Toons: Ding Ding Ding! You win!

Your Hero: Yay.

Looney Toons: Okay here you go.

I grab my checks and try to run out as fast as possible.

Looney Toons: WAIT! You need to sign the list or they'll beat me up. You wouldn't want that?

Your Hero: Of course not...

I LOVE the working world!

2:^)

P.S. Incase you're like my stupid friends and have no idea what that drawing is of in my last post, it is a monkey. I call him Darwin.

Sometimes I draw him with a banana but my bananas usually look like penises... or do my penises look like bananas? Hmmm... I'm the next Aristotle.

Creative Genius!

2006-07-14T19:11:00.000-04:00

New Home

2006-07-14T07:45:00.000-04:00

Hi all,

So the template of my last diary died from neglect. Apparently diary entries are like water to it and it's somewhere in the ether now. For the longest time I considered myself a diaryland purist considering my precious diary host to be in a gang fight with other sites who were the web equivalent of school yard bullies. Yeah I'm talking to you typepad!

But after looking at other diary sites I am starting to see why some people think diaryland was (to borrow a Dane Cook phrase) a big pile of douche. The scales have fallen from my eyes and I have finally seen the light.

My last diary chronicled my college years. I am now entering a new chapter in my life as a working stiff and a graduate student and a big old queer who is finally out to his family after 21 years. So I think it is only fitting that I also make a new diary to reflect these changes. I look forward to everything that is to come.

2:^)