Sunday, August 31, 2008

Gay Chicken Irking Me

So the fact that I turned away first in gay chicken is really bothering me. Does that mean I'm homophobic? Am I chicken-shit? (pun intended) I really want to rechallenge her but I'm scared if I don't turn and she doesn't turn then neither of us will turn and it will just end up as a kiss, lol.

Meh.. I guess I'm not a wimp.. right?


Saturday, August 30, 2008

A Day of Nothing and Yet Everything

So today was amusing. I woke up, talked to mum for a bit, showered and went to spend the whole day with my friends. I met up with James and Eve around 1pm or so (we were suppose to have met earlier but "we'll be there in 30 minutes" apparently loosely translates into real time of 2 hours later.) We decided to spend the day at the movies. I was suppose to hang out with a guy I met before, Marcus, he seemed to be a real cool kat, but he didn't answer and no-showed day of, oh wellz.. As well as with my friend Eric who was coming from out of town. We decided to go see movies before Eric hit town but we're notorious concession stand-ers, and we're all just broke enough to be able to get tickets, but not concessions really, so we stopped by Walmart on the way, bought a few bottled drinks, some M&Ms, and those long tube-bags of popcorn that are like a dollar. Everything but the popcorn fit in Eve's purse (I swear this thing could hide a small baby), and I'm tall and intimidating and said I'd have no problem walking the popcorn right through the door of the movies, they wouldn't dare stop me.

So we decided to grab some dollar burgers from McDonalds (1 burger each, nothing too much since we had snacks) and they asked "What name should we call?" To which Eve said "Oh just call James" and I said "No no, call Pookie." "Pookie?" "Yes. Call for Pookie." "...." needless to say they opted for James, stupid spoil sports.

So we parked and were eating our burgers before we went inside, and I realized I forgot to get no pickles, so I pulled them off my burger and tossed them out the window thinking "Oh the birds will eat them" and not really noticing the truck parked right next to us. They hit the truck, and stuck. So I'm sitting there like O_O!!! at these 2 out of 3 pickles stuck on this random guys truck, and in a panic we start up the car and move it. lol.

We walk into the movie theatre (me carrying the big tube of popcorn) and I realize the popcorn we bought has no butter on it. I shrug and blatantly walk up to the concession stand people and put butter on our tube-corn. lol. They gave us odd looks to say the least, we then proceeded to watch our movie. It was horrible, and we decided to sneak into a second movie to feel justified (their idea, not mine) and we decide to go see Journey to the Center of the Earth 3D.. well 3d requires 3D glasses, and I'm the only person with balls in our little group. I walk up to guest services and request 3 pairs of glasses to the movie we did not pay for. They oblidge and we watch our show, lol.

Afterwards we pick up our friend Vince, and go to meet Eric. Vince is under 21, so he can't get into bars or anything like that generally, and of course, Eric being the lovely drunkard he can be, is in a bar. We show up, and Vince is carded at the door, and turned away, so we hop in, say Hi, and say we are going to hang out across the street since Vince can't come in, expecting Eric to be normal and come with us since it is -across the street-. He doesn't. He stays there, which is fine by me since I don't like drinking, and his step-brother is there who has been trying to get into my pants since I was 15.

We walk across the street and enter this little joint called "The Cellar" to find that we have inadvertantly crashed a Death Metal Birthday party, or barmitzvah or something lol. We stand around awkwardly as the band plays (they'd be great if they got rid of the tone-deaf singer) then wave to random people and retreat out into the night. (the waves are to make people think maybe we didn't crash, especially since James got 2 drinks from the bar and the bartender was like "Don't worry about it" refusing to take his cash since he thought we were part of the family.)

We hop back across the street, tell Eric we're bored and he's not apparently joining us, and leave. (Erics girlfriend giving me a look the entire time like I had just made out with him and his brother ontop of her lap o_O). We hop in the car and decide to head to House of Pies. Oh btw, I lost at Gay Chicken with Eve so she didn't let me live it down all night. (Gay chicken is when two people of the same sex start moving closer and closer together in a kiss until one of them backs off, I backed off.)

In the H.O.Pies we are joking and laughing and just having a good old time, and the entire time these two teenage girls are giving us the stink eye. We have no clue why, and I was making jokes with the group that we should all blow a kiss to them, or just pick up our drinks and food and move over to their table when I get a great idea. I ask our waitress to send a chocolate milk over to them "from the table over there". Needless to say they were very confused and we were very amused...

Meh.. I LOL'ed..


Friday, August 29, 2008

Stalking is the most fun a guy can have..

So, I'm being stalked. Not stalked stalked, just a very odd chain of coincidences involving this one guy. Everywhere I go, I seem to be right next to this one guy. When I go to college, he turns up there, when I come home, he's on the same street, and yesterday, on my way to my job interview, he was right there again.

His name is Darien (one of my all-time favorite guy names), he's black and originally from Germany, he came here when he was 7, he works at Target, goes to my college, lives near my apartment complex, and seems to have the exact same schedule and thoughts that I do.

We shop at the same times, have classes at the same times, even pick movies for rentals at the same time. It's a bit scary.

So yesterday I just flat out said "Yep, Now I'm convinced you're stalking me." to which he replied "I do that." It even sounded like a me-response. He asked me where I was going, which I told him, he offered where he was going and let me know a little bit about him, and so I offered a little bit about myself as well. I shook his hand and introduced myself since it seemed the right thing to do, and we talked a bit on our way.

Meh.. Bizzaro..


Thursday, August 28, 2008


So apparently I'm going to hell. This takes a bit of explaining. I was in anthropology today and we were talking about biological/physical evolution, natural selection, cultural evolution, etc. The prof was telling a short story about moths, how darker mutations appeared and due to the industrialization in England, they survived better then the lighter ones because they blended in with the soot from the factories covered trees, and therefore could live on to pass that gene.

I was thinking about that, and about how when mutations happen, they aren't neccessarily always for the better, but because of natural selection, those failed evolutionary "freaks" die off instead of striving to become the new norm. We as humans have the same things happen, but because of our culture, we do not let them die. For example, in Roman times, if a child was born with a physical deformity or a mental retardation, it would die young because it was not able to survive in the conditions of that world. However, right now if someone is born with a retardation, they will get special treatments and help, they have special hospitals, schools, programs to teach them a skill in life to make money and self-sufficiency, they are able to find mates, have offspring, and maybe those offspring will fail to have that trait, but a couple of generations down the line, it may reappear, but by now it's spread to many different families, etc. It doesn't die off like say a mutation in a family of deer would.

So I had to pose the question: Are we genetically screwing ourselves due to our culture?

Apparently, I'm a Nazi.

Or so the professor and the rest of the class viewed.

The Professor likened me to a Nazi. A NAZI. I was posing an intellectual question, I didn't say "Hey, Let's kill all these damned Re-res." Am I not even allowed to wonder anymore?

The Prof said something the first day of class:
"We as a species are unique. We can view our world and change accordingly based off nothing but our mental choices. We are the authors of our destiny."

Have we not also said "Hey Nature, screw you, you don't know what you're talking about, we're gonna do what we're gonna do, Natural Selection isn't good enough for us" and become likewise authors of our own evolution?


Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Anthropology - The Study of the Biological and Cultural Evolution of Man -- Such Irony

Today was the normal full class day which would have probably gone well had I not missed half the day.

BUT, I did go to Anthropology, which I LOVED, the teacher is interesting but beyond that, I arrived at class about an hour early with my friend James, and I found a deck of playing cards in my backpack. Another girl walked into the class, just about as early, followed by a guy and then another girl. I was shuffling the cards, looking over at James and thinking, "Meh, what the hell."

I turned to the other three people and said "Hey. Wanna play some Go Fish?" And so it started. By the end of it, we had 7 other players, and we were playing "Bullshit" as the classmates started pouring in. 8 complete strangers (well 6 in my shoes since I knew James) playing a game in the middle of class. We laughed, we joked, it was good fun.

Meh.. I thought it was worth mention..


Monday, August 25, 2008


So today was my first day of classes in the new semester. It's a light day, only one class that is like 2 hours long, Japanese. I was excited and nervous but beyond that I was also late. I know, brilliant me. For some reason a trip that usually only takes 1-2 hours took like 3 to accomplish, and I was an hour late. So I'm standing at the door to class pacing, deciding if I want to open it and go in or not or try again on Wednesday, so I ask the two girls sitting near the door their opinion. They responded, in unison, "Go Inside." I took the surround-sound guidance as most likely sound advice (hehe puns) and hesitantly opened the door.

I have never been one to be nervous, or shy, except in matters of love/the heart, but for some reason I opened that door and I felt 2 inches tall. Everyone stared at me and the teacher immediately turned to me, class stopped to look at me. It was a great feeling. And by great feeling I mean I wished I'd had a pistol right then to end my life. The teacher talks to me standing awkwardly there then asks if I have any friends in the class. I glance around half-assedly, more for the show of "maybe she knows people" then actually looking since I know for damn well I know no one at my college, and meekly shake my head no. Some smart-ass douche-dude (ooh I like that word) says "I'll be your friend" in that typical -nudge nudge- sort of voice, class laughs, and now I'm an inch and a half tall. So I find a seat and the teacher chunks me off on Mr. GQ High-fashion-designer-everything-on-him-his-lunch-bag-is-
probably-Gucci who has the personality of a wet-mop and seems extremely annoyed I got pushed off on him as his responsiblity to catch me up.

So the teacher starts going over the numbers and makes everyone say 1-10 in Japanese at their desk, going to the next student when they finish, y'know, to make sure they are pronouncing it right. He gets to me and he likes my pronunciation so much that he makes me say the numbers 1- TEN THOUSAND. Now not literally 1-10,000, but 1-20, then 30, 40, 50, etc until 100, then 200, 300, etc to 1k, then 2k, 3k, etc to 10,000, but as if my experience wasn't traumatizing enough he makes me stand infront of the whole class to do it.

He also taught us how to stand, bow to your sensei, and sit on command. Then just to make sure we got it right, we did it 10 more times.

He also made us all pick japanese names (because he can't be bothered to learn the English ones I guess) but I missed that part, so at the end of class he makes everyone stand up and say:
"Hajimeshite, Watashi no Nihongo no namea wa _______ desu. Watashi no Eego no namea wa _____ desu. Watashi wa ni juu yon sei desu. Watashi no geikosei de Houston no University." Meaning "Greetings, My Japanese name is ____. My English name is _____. I am ___ years old. I am a ____ year student here at University of Houston."

... Every student.

.. There are like 40 of us...

Class ended at 12:00pm...

We didn't get out until like 1:00pm.

.. And I had to make a Japanese name on the spot. v_v;

.. and I stuttered like 20 times and had to stop, take a breath, and start over twice.



EDIT: Hajimemashite is the right spelling x_x;.. I'm such a n00b sometimes.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Oxford Dictionary defines Alone as meaning...

In certain South African dialects the word for alone simply does not exist. I don't mean "alone" isn't in their language, or that when they are incapable of working english into their languages the way Spanish and Japanese can, I mean it does not exist. The concept does not exist. Everyone in the community interacts with everyone else, everyone is everyone elses responsibility and visa versa. The idea of someone being alone is simply unfathomable.

Can you imagine that? I mean can you actually wrap your mind around that concept.

I can't.

Somehow that is so profound that meh is not worthy to be used in it's presence.



Make a man a fire, he will be warm for a day.
SET a man on fire, he will be warm for a lifetime.


Saturday, August 23, 2008

Suggestion Box 1

The world would be a better place if people would just take turns winning arguments. You know, this time I win, next time you win. I was thinking about the various things that could be mandated that would probably improve our general way of life. Almost the opposite of Anarchy, I suppose.

For example, make people take a permit in order to have a child. Do you know how nice it would be to have a welfare system that actually works and that isn't abused by any woman who's willing to put up with the 9 months of inconvenience and 2 hours of pain just to get free moneyz from the government?

Or if people were required to learn a second language. Most of the world knows two languages according to a recent study. Something like 73 percent of the world is at least bi-lingual, in comparison to Americans where only 14 percent is. Don't quote me on those stats, but they were definitely wonky like that.

We should have an exchange student project also, where people get to live for a few months in another person's shoes.. send the Beverly Hills kids to live in the Bronx, send the Bronx kids to live on a farm in North Dakota, send the farm kids to live in the Barrios, send the Barrios people to live in a single parent, only child household with little to no family ties.. Just make everyone experience other cultures first hand within our own communities. Perhaps we would all hate each other a little less.

I think we should also give more citizen arrest powers to the people, it would definitely lighten the load on the law enforcement, plus it would be a hell of a lot easier to find corruption within the ranks. If 5 people with reputable backgrounds report an officer, I think he should go on immediate probation and suspension pending an investigation. Simple things like that which can make a big difference.

Meh.. Worth some thought..


Friday, August 22, 2008

McDonalds, Party of None...

I was thinking about my McDonalds post yesterday, I decided that America and possibly the rest of the world could better solve our obesity issues if we razed every fastfood joint to the ground (though part of me wants to say "Except Taco Bell! I luvs Taco Bell!") and replaced them all with drive-thru grocery stores.

Think about it. I accept the fact that at least Americans are lazy bastards as a whole. We don't take the time to cook, or do pretty much anything that we probably -should- do, instead opting for the fastest, easiest, and most efficient if not necessarily cost effective way to take care of basic needs. Shower instead of bathe, fast food instead of a dinner that takes an hour or more to cook, drive instead of walk, etc. So getting rid of fastfood joints all together is an improbability. Even if I was to personally find a way to wipe out every place on the map, there would just be more popping up because we are addicted not to junk food, but convenience.

In order to effectively remove them from the face of the planet, something equally useful, but more healthy would have to pop up. Hence, drive-thru grocery stores. You drive up, place an order for fresh fruits and veggies, sandwiches, salads, breads and cheeses, teas, grilled salmon, if it's healthy, they provide it, quick and easy. So instead of shoveling that quarter pounder with cheese, a Dr. Pepper (Nectar of the Gods, I tell you, and my personal major vice), and fries that not only have enough salt to choke a horse, but sugar on them as well to counter out the salty flavor so they can add more salt... You can get a baguette, fresh cheese, some grapes, some pate, and fresh green tea, all to go. Want some sushi? You got it. Mom's meatloaf? One slice or two, sir? And just imagine the load it would take off working mothers. No time to go for a full grocery trip? Why not stop by a fast food joint on the way? Pick up the bare basics without having to leave the convenience of your car.

Now, clearly, these places can't stock up on everything, if only because of the sheer size of the space needed as well as the time it would take to fulfill orders, but then again, not every peddler-of-heartattacks-and-love-handles is a McDonalds now is it? Different stores could specialize in different items. I can't believe in this age of ease, no one has thought of this yet.

"McDonalds -1 Million pounds served" needs to be replaced with "Old MacDonald had a Drive-Thru, Order, Pay and Go."

Meh.. Maybe someday..


Thursday, August 21, 2008

TTRS - This Terribly Retarded System

So I was a Librarian for a year or so for H.I.S.D. (Houston Independant School Dumbasses) roughly 5 years ago. This enrolled me in the Texas Teacher Retirement System (TTRS) and I have about 800 dollars saved up for my eventual retirement (at the age of 32 if I have my way about it) that is just sitting there, earning interest. The funny thing is it use to be around 500 dollars just sitting there, earning interest, and I guess someone caught on to my clever little scheme, because I recieved a lovely letter in the mail saying "Hey, uh, this is TTRS... We're on to you, buddy. Get your cash out of our account and stick it in another, or you can let it rot here, but we ain't paying tax dollars towards your lazy ass. NO INTEREST FOR YOU!" -Signed, The TTRS Nazi.

So I called up Fidelity Investments, spoke with a charming young man who told me I could call day or night, anytime, 24 hours a day, if I needed any help or had any questions, etc. (I'm thinking of calling at 3 a.m. to ask them how to say "High Yield Interest Savings Account" in German.) Well George.. or John... or Paul... or some apostle like name... or maybe it was some Beetle like name... I'm fairly sure it wasn't Ringo... told me I needed to talk to TTRS in order to get the ball rolling. Okay, good as done.

I call them up, and the most ancient person in the world answers after about 15 noises which sounds like maybe she had a heartattack trying to pick the phone up, dropped it, and then they rushed in and zapped her to life just so she could take my call, and she tells me (in her long winded old lady way) she has filled out a request for 2 forms to be MAILED to me (MAIL. AS IN THE THING THAT I USE TO GET MY NETFLIX AND MAGAZINES AND NOTHING ELSE) that I have to fill out, sign, have NOTERIZED, and MAIL BACK. I asked her if we couldn't fax this or have the forms e-mailed to me. Dead silence on the other end. I liken it to having just asked her what the answer was to one of the most complicated theoretical physics questions on the planet. So I calmly repeated the question, and after another dead silence (now that I think about it, maybe it really was a dead silence, and they had to rush in and zap her back again), she told me that everything had to be done through the mail.

I can fill out my TAXES online, pay all my bills, take care of every college thing you could ever DREAM of, even ORDER PIZZA online... But I can't get my retirement plan rerouted. It's almost like somewhere someone said "Well these people are retiring. They don't even know how to make the VCR stop blinking 12:00, so why waste the money on upgrading our systems?"

Meh.. backasswards..


Have You Ever Seen a Chicken's Nugget?

Have you ever wondered what could possibly be in our fast food? I mean really wondered. Not that crap about how fatty it must be, or how much salt. I mean how often do you see a rat or an alley cat around McDonalds? You'd think they'd flock there with all the free food out back. Somebody somewhere must have said, "Hey. I have an idea. My neighbor has this really annoying calico named Fluffinator. Just hear me out.."

McDonalds and other fastfood joints are starting to advertise in my movie theatres. (Yes. Mine. I held the place up by gunpoint and made them write my name in paint on the front door. "Oh yeah, I don't see your name on it." *points* "Right there, bitches.") I find this as a gross violation of my movie going experience. I sit through the previews to see poorly made advertisements showing the best parts of the shittiest movies starring some half naked chick, an ugly dude who for some unknown reason teenage girls masterbate to, and that deep voiced smoker guy telling me about "In a time when crime runs rampant.. one man stood against all odds.." NOT "So. See that crap in your lap you're about to digest that you paid 59 dollars for that costs about 30 cents to make? Yeah, you're a fat ass. You should come to McDonalds afterward. Buy 10 Big Macs get a free heart by pass. Offer while supplies last."

Speaking of voices, ever watch those late night informercials? I have decided that Billy Mays could be the most annoying man on the face of the earth. You know the guy, he pitches Orange Glo, Oxyclean, Mighty Putty and Hercules Hooks.. pretty much anything a stay-at-home mother from the 50's could dream of...
That guy. I had a scary thought today. If that's his "indoor voice", can you imagine what his outdoor voice must be like? He's probably able to be heard from space. Or at least as far as amish country. Hell, maybe the Amish use him as a phone system.

Meh.. I'm done..


Oh, and to any of you had the fleeting thought of "That's so mean, what if someone Amish reads that..." I want you to go and slap yourself. Hard.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

A Blog About Hating Blogs

I have said in the past that I would never, I repeat, never post a blog or a myspace or anything of the sort in my life time. It seems I was wrong. It seems I was so very wrong that it became mandated of me to write this. Good for the soul or some crap, help me work out my inner demons, or hatred, or telletubbies, I don't know, I kind of tuned out at this point.

The unfortunate twist on this is that my life is so completely, unbelievably boring that I can't think anyone would want to read this, nor know my inner workings. But then again, this could be that lovely "Chronic Low Self-Esteem" talking. Who knows.

What exactly is the difference between a blog and a diary anyways? Except that a diary is meant to be kept under your bed until either your Mom finds it and has a "talk" with you about something you wrote, or your little brother finds it and tells the guy you wrote in little hearts all over the page so very gayly that you wrote his name in little hearts all over your pages very gayly... and a blog is for some idiot to leave a "LOLZ J00 SUX0R T3H C4K3 I5 4 LI3!" in the comment section making you feel pissed at internet anonymity -and- stupid for having wasted your time on writing this crap no one reads but you, the three friends you force to read it, and some sad 80 year old man living vicariously through you from Indiana. And of course the one n00b who commented.

Meh, I'll think of something to write about tomorrow.

So long and thanks for all the fish... (slatfatf)