Yummy Goodness

And by yummy goodness, I mean disgusting rancid putrid smell. Why? Because I just farted and it stinks. That offensive odor to my olfactory organ instantly prompted this entry.

I have noticed that usually, barring the occassional Toca Bell and Juanita's Restaurant visits, my farts do not smell; however, my office bends that rule completely. I have never encountered a fart in my office that didn't have me immediately reaching for the nearest of the three room sprays strategically scattered around my desk. Why is that? Do I step into another dimension of reality, into the planes of effluvium when I enter my office? Or does my nose become simultaneously sharper rivaling that of a bloodhound? There's something about this office that either heightens my olfactory modality or magnifies the redolence of my gaseous excretion. Either way, I'm dying as I sit here typing away, wallowing in my own vaporous nastiness.

I think I need a shower after this.

Confession of a Coffee Addict

Well, I supose I have no right in calling myself a coffee addict considering the fact that I only started drinking coffee approximately two months ago. When one thinks of "addiction", or rather, when I think of "addiction", an image of a cracked out, hand-shaking, bags-under-your-eyes person who's been hooked for longer than six months comes to mind. Being addicted for two months, that is a pussy-sissy addiction. But holding true to my sexual preference and my nelly-ness, I declare myself, officially, addicted to coffee.

I first started drinking coffee because eating Doritos and devouring large amount of candy no longer do the trick of giving me a good afternoon pick-me-up buzz; I became cranky, mean and extremely lazy; in return, my productivity suffered greatly. Fearing that I may loose my job (haha, I laugh), I turned to something that I have always been grotesquely against - drinking coffee. Not only did I believe drinking coffee will one day make your heart explode, but, more importantly, it stains your teeth. It is bad enough that I suck down cancer sticks like a furnace, but drinking coffee also?? My teeth would turn British.

But after weeks and months of fighting the temptation, I finally gave in - I decided making ends meet was more important than keeping my teeth white, so I started to drink coffee. OOOoooo weeeee! Not only is my heart palpitating at an amazing speed, but I became a nicer person and lazy afternoons became a breeze.

So to summarize - here are the benefits of consuming large quantities of coffee:

1. Longer lasting happiness than a typical sugar rush
2. Facial muscles that control your smiles go right to work making you look much friendlier
3. Heart palpitation gives you the cardio workout to keep you skinny
4. You feel less hungry, similar effect to that of speed
5. A cup of coffee a day slows down the progression of Alzheimer's Disease (this is scientifically true, by the way)

Now, I drink two cups of coffee a day just to keep me smiling through the day, not to mention making me crystal-meth skinny. Well done.

Adidas Adilette

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Take a look at this; take a good look at this. These sandals have been the bane of my existence for the past week and a half. Well, in actuality, the escapade of finding these sandals was the nuisance, but fret no more because I have found them, at the Adidas store in Georgetown (who knew).

I have been looking for these sandals for forever and day and every store that I've been to either didn't carry them, or just plainly didn't have my size. I was furious.

But alert the media because Howard has found them and he can wear them to this house party tonight as planned. Yay! Well done!

That is all.

PS - In case you are wondering, my life is generally so uninteresting that I consider these minute everyday achievements of self-indulgences to be monumental events rivaling that of Homer's Odyssey.

What the F?

Moments ago, leading astronomers declared Pluto to be a planet no more. Yes, you heard right: Pluto, the "Pizza" in our familiar childhood acronym, is no longer a planet. I mean, really? How are kids, nowadays, suppose to remember the order of the planets? "My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine"...that shit don't make sense, nor is it appetizing enough to remember...

In addition, ponder on this - if astronomers, the social and the intellectual elites of the geek/nerd world, can be wrong, how certain can we be of everything else?!?!?

I'm flabbergasted

Surprise, surprise...

People continue to surprise me. Last night, one of our friends, Tom, came over to hang out because he was leaving for Spain to teach English in a couple of weeks. In between packing up his entire life and seeing those he cared about, this would be our last chance to see him. He is more Jonathan's friend than mine, though we were on the same Cheerleading Team together and have swam together during our Freshmen Year.

I was hesitant at first when Jonathan told me that Tom was coming over; I expected the night to be extremely awkward. Let me explain a little something about Tom. Tom is practically the antithesis of me: he is not clean, he has dreads....long story short, Tom's a hippie. I didn't think I could talk to him about much.

While we were on the Cheerleading Team together, we became very close and have had many in-depth conversations, but, at the same time, I was heavily "medicated" during that part of my college years so striking a conversation was not exactly hard; I could have had a deep, meaningful conversation with a brick wall at that point, I was so baked. And since Tom no longer drinks and I stopped doing drugs a few years back, I was terrified to actually having a sober conversation with him. Was it going to be weird? Would we have things to talk about it? Would we find each other boring? Doubts became frequent visitors in my mind. For two days I brooded over this issue and have contemplated asking Jonathan to take him out to dinner instead of bringing him back home. But because Tom is a great friend of Jonathan's, I decided to keep my mouth shut, and Tom surprised me. Heck, I surprised myself. We ended up having a great time, had great conversations and Tom stayed overnight. As a matter of fact, Tom is actually still sleeping on our couch as I'm writing this.

I realize something: I am extremely quick to judge people, sizing them up and down by their appearances, their expressions, their mannerisms...etc. But what can I do? I grew up in an Asian household; it was expected of you to be judgmental. I guess to overcome that is to force myself into situations where I would initially feel awkward. Hmmm...confronting your fears...how original....

A Moment of Silence.....

So can we PLEASE, right here, right now, devote a minute or two to discuss how RETARDED America is? Yes, America...

So for those of you who watch So You Think You Can Dance, aka the BEST show in the world, religiously know that we, Team Travis, were robbed of a $100,000 victory for our main man, Travis Wall, last night during the Finale. Travis is not only the cutest thing ever to grace this side of the hemisphere, and has techniques that would make even the greatest of dance legions such as Alvin Ailey blush (okay, maybe that was bit of an over-inflated statement), most importantly, Mr. Travis, aka Amazing to every essence of the word, has the personality and unforgetable charisma to add to the long list of wonderfulness. Travis is the total package! I mean just look at this precious face....

So why did Benji win the $100,000 prize money, a one-year contract with Celine Dion's dance troupe in Las Vegas, and something, something, blah blah blah? I'll tell you why - Because America is stupid. The same people that put Clay Gay-kin on top of the Billboard charts are probably also responsible for cheating Travis and America out of a rightfully deserved victory with machines that are able to dial up to 1,500 calls a minute blowing up the phone lines while the honest Team Travis sits diligently dialing each number with hope that Travis would win, as he should have had.

Besides, Benji needs to come out of the closet. Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying a gay man shouldn't win this competition, fuck no. It's a dance competition, for goodness sake, of course a gay man should win. And I think a gay man has, but Benji (yeah, Benji...why would a self-proclaimed "straight" male want to be called "Benji" voluntarily?) needs to come out of the closet because we know he's gay, he knows he's gay now he just needs to know that we know that he knows that we know he's gay. Closets are for hanging clothes, not for hanging out.

So as you can see by my rants and raves that I am quite furious at the results of last night's show, to say the least. I know cursing at the TV, throwing shit and flaring around gayly, but angrily, would do nothing to sway the result of the show, but it sure made this little queer happy. Oh and for the sake of all humanity, I hope that being a year with the Celine Dion dance troupe would allow Benji to come to terms with his inner "faggotry" and come out; because he needs to and it's Celine Dion.

Good DAY!