I'm sure most of you who are following me know what hentai is, or at least know it by some name. While the actual word itself does not directly translate to it, the main colloquial use of the word is to describe anime porn. Some of you may indulge in it and derive pleasure from it. Others may be quite turned off or otherwise disgusted by it, but I must say, it is quite hilarious in general when looking at it from a non-sexual standpoint.
It all began when I was in high school and my friend came back from the summer having gone to Japan. Him and I were in the same Japanese class and were interested in quite a lot of the same things as well as both of us having a perverse sense of humor. He brought back a book to show me that he got from a Japanese manga store (Japanese comic store).
First, though, I must describe the book store that he told me about. On the first floor has mainstream, or at least non pornographic comics. Things that would be suitable for kids or teens to stumble upon and not have their childhoods destroyed.
Then you go up a floor. This floor has softcore hentai. About on the same level as softcore porn here, nothing strange. There may be hentai parody's of popular fictional characters or they may be original ones. It varies.
Then you go up another floor. Now it's just become hardcore hentai. Maybe there's orgy's and other things. I don't know, I've never been there. I'm just going on the vague description I was given.
Then you go up another floor (noticing the pattern here?). This room is like the room underneath it plus tentacles and a few potatoes. I really wish that was an exaggeration, but I can believe it. Japan is weird.
Now think about this. There are three more rooms above that. It gets so bad, they must put curtains over the books so that people don't...You know, if you're already up there, you probably know what you're in for, so I don't see why they would do that. Here's the best part though, the only bathroom in the store was up on the fifth floor. Good luck with that people with tiny bladders.
So anyway, he got a relatively tame one (for Japanese standards at least, like I said, they're weird) called "She looks like sweet mermaid". I'll say one thing. It had no mermaids.
Pretty much, it was a compilation of stories where a woman has a problem, finds some guy, and sex solves EVERYTHING. We actually sat down to translate one of the stories. One of them was about a girl who was starting track, but realized her boobs got bigger and so she was apparently horribly off balance and couldn't run well.
How is this problem solved? Sex. Lots of raunchy sex that ends in both of them excreting more fluids than the human body actually has inside of it. Then it cuts to the next day and because of that little bit of sex (at least so is implied), she magically regained the ability to run.
Then I found out that this is a common motif within hentai.
"Oh snagglypuss! I just found out that my final exam is tomorrow and I haven't studied at all! I should get a tutor!"
[gets tutor, doesn't study, but has sex instead. She passes with 75/32 questions correct.]
"Oh snap, my car has stalled. I guess I better flag down some help"
[waves down woman with bigger breasts than his head, they have sex on the hood, car runs like a champ]
"I sure miss mom and dad. Things are lonely since they died in that fateful caterpillar excavation accident..."
[Woman from excavation team ends up showing up, they have sex, mom and dad come back to life]
That's pretty much the bare bones of every hentai ever. It's ridiculous, but hilarious. Oh Japan, you're so weird.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Amnesia
There's been a game that's been taking up my time recently. It's been keeping me up through the nights with a couple friends. It's a computer game. We'll throw it up onto the TV screen via HDMI cable, grab a USB mouse, play it up. It's a one player game, and so far, it's only been able to correctly run on my laptop, so I've been the only one to play it first hand so far. This game is called Amnesia: The Dark Descent.
This is a game that I found while reading a comic called Scandanavia and the World. It's a little comic that personifies various countries (focusing on the Nordic) with single characters (or at times it'll bring in the 'sister' character which is just the female version of the country). It pokes fun at the various ethnic stereotypes and interactions in the world and is quite funny if you get what's going on. Hell, it's pretty damn funny even if you don't know what's going on.
http://satwcomic.com/anything-but-that There's the link if you want.
If you don't feel like using the link, in this comic, one of the characters, Sweden is playing this game, and he's telling what's happening to America. He's describing terrifying actions that he as the player is doing. Meanwhile, America is just over his shoulder going, "Wow. Boring. Meh. This is lame" undermining it the whole time. As the actions get more gruesome, the other onlooking Nordic countries are looking on with terror while America is still watching with disinterest. That is until he sees a phallus (penis) on a character in which he freaks out in seeing, the obvious joke being how here in America, we are completely unfazed by violence, but when there's even the slightest bit of nudity, we gotta call up to the air force, the army, the navy, and even the aliens to get that shit out.
So while I was reading about this game, and being interested by psychologically thrilling things like that, it kind of got me interested, but I didn't really care all that much at that point. I just kept reading more comics. Then I saw that a youtube personality I enjoy, Lanipator, also played the game and was interesting enough to post his play through. That spurred my interest a little more and so I looked up the reviews, and many reviews talked about how terrifying it was.
Long story short, I talked to my friends about it (who apparently also heard of the game before me) and we decided to get it and try it out. We said we were going to play it together on the TV, but I was a little over eager and decided to play a bit of it for myself.
I must say, maybe it's because I actively immerse my imagination in things like video games and books, but this really gripped me. You wake up in a pool of your own blood, and follow your own trail of it to a room telling you that for the most part, you're an asshole how purposely chose to make yourself forget and trap yourself in some creepy ass castle and to figure out what the hell happened, and to kill some random guy. As mundane as that sounds, it's the overall atmosphere of things that give it its edge.
The music and sound effects are quite unnerving and startling. The movement is rather creeping rather than just a nice, upbeat jostle through the castle. The setting is very dark and foreboding for most of the game. You can find little bits of tinderboxes to light candles, but they are in very short supply. There are mysterious noises that if you're in serious concentration can make you jump and startle you.
Another thing that sets this aside is the 'Sanity' meter. The longer he stays in the dark, the more his grip on his sanity is loosened. The more insane he goes, the more noises he hears. Bugs start crawling all over the screen. The noises get louder. His vision gets really blurry. It makes the player feel a bit...helpless. While my friends couldn't get that part of the game, it was definitely something I had to remain vigilant about.
After twenty minutes in and reading that note and seeing EVERYTHING go black and my character (Daniel) fall to the floor I was too scarred, shut my laptop and said, "Fuck it. I am not going to bed if I play more. I'm done." I was scared enough then, but I later played more at my friends house.
As I roamed the castle, I would haphazardly throw things around for laughs. It was advised against because there were things 'following' me, but I didn't care too much. I figured I could just throw things at it and make a quick getaway. Then I was put to the test.
I walked out into a large hall, and out of the corner of the characters eye, a large movement is seen. A flesh colored humanoid creature is seen walking into another room. My friends jump and even I went, "Oh shit!", but it was in excitement. I arm myself with a chair (yes, a chair. There is nothing else) and I start to follow it.
"What the fuck are you doing man?! It's in there! It'll kill you! You can't kill it!"
"No, I know I gotta go this way."
We argued about it for a few moments, but in the end, I was the guy playing it, and I walked on. Right in front of the doorway, it was all or nothing. I charged into the room, chair in hand ready to throw it at whatever the fuck was in my way... then I heard a slight growl turn into a monstrous howl and we all screamed.
I dropped the chair, and I started yelling at the TV as I backtracked and ran, "OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCKING FUCK FUCK PURPLE PENGUINS SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!! DEAR GOD IT'S AFTER ME SHIIIIIIIIIIT".
Oh how brave I was.
At least my friends did the same.
So as I ran, taking turns and not bothering to look behind me in case it was still behind me (I could've swore I heard its breathing, but it probably wasn't chasing me for long at all), my friends and I were all yelling. We must've sounded like little girls.
"Fuck where do I go!?!?!11?//1/!?!?!?!? I'm gonna die, I'm gonnda die, I'm donna diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!", until I eventually hid...in a closet. I hid in a closet for probably about ten minutes as we sat there and stared at the screen whimpering wondering if it was going to find me and kill me.
After I finally emerged from my boudoir haven, we all realized that that was indeed where I had to go next. That was most definitely the place that I had to go through next. The thought just pissed us off as well as mortally scarred us.
Long story short, we did make it past that monster and now I am stuck at an area where I must traverse a series of flooded rooms hopping from one small box to another without landing in the water. Why you ask? Because if I land in the water, I will be eaten and killed by an invisible monster! How unfair is that? I don't even get to see what kills me.
Overall, if you're a fan of survival horror, it is definitely a game to pick up. Just about everything about the game is good except for the part that your character is an asshole that brought this upon themselves.
This is a game that I found while reading a comic called Scandanavia and the World. It's a little comic that personifies various countries (focusing on the Nordic) with single characters (or at times it'll bring in the 'sister' character which is just the female version of the country). It pokes fun at the various ethnic stereotypes and interactions in the world and is quite funny if you get what's going on. Hell, it's pretty damn funny even if you don't know what's going on.
http://satwcomic.com/anything-but-that There's the link if you want.
If you don't feel like using the link, in this comic, one of the characters, Sweden is playing this game, and he's telling what's happening to America. He's describing terrifying actions that he as the player is doing. Meanwhile, America is just over his shoulder going, "Wow. Boring. Meh. This is lame" undermining it the whole time. As the actions get more gruesome, the other onlooking Nordic countries are looking on with terror while America is still watching with disinterest. That is until he sees a phallus (penis) on a character in which he freaks out in seeing, the obvious joke being how here in America, we are completely unfazed by violence, but when there's even the slightest bit of nudity, we gotta call up to the air force, the army, the navy, and even the aliens to get that shit out.
So while I was reading about this game, and being interested by psychologically thrilling things like that, it kind of got me interested, but I didn't really care all that much at that point. I just kept reading more comics. Then I saw that a youtube personality I enjoy, Lanipator, also played the game and was interesting enough to post his play through. That spurred my interest a little more and so I looked up the reviews, and many reviews talked about how terrifying it was.
Long story short, I talked to my friends about it (who apparently also heard of the game before me) and we decided to get it and try it out. We said we were going to play it together on the TV, but I was a little over eager and decided to play a bit of it for myself.
I must say, maybe it's because I actively immerse my imagination in things like video games and books, but this really gripped me. You wake up in a pool of your own blood, and follow your own trail of it to a room telling you that for the most part, you're an asshole how purposely chose to make yourself forget and trap yourself in some creepy ass castle and to figure out what the hell happened, and to kill some random guy. As mundane as that sounds, it's the overall atmosphere of things that give it its edge.
The music and sound effects are quite unnerving and startling. The movement is rather creeping rather than just a nice, upbeat jostle through the castle. The setting is very dark and foreboding for most of the game. You can find little bits of tinderboxes to light candles, but they are in very short supply. There are mysterious noises that if you're in serious concentration can make you jump and startle you.
Another thing that sets this aside is the 'Sanity' meter. The longer he stays in the dark, the more his grip on his sanity is loosened. The more insane he goes, the more noises he hears. Bugs start crawling all over the screen. The noises get louder. His vision gets really blurry. It makes the player feel a bit...helpless. While my friends couldn't get that part of the game, it was definitely something I had to remain vigilant about.
After twenty minutes in and reading that note and seeing EVERYTHING go black and my character (Daniel) fall to the floor I was too scarred, shut my laptop and said, "Fuck it. I am not going to bed if I play more. I'm done." I was scared enough then, but I later played more at my friends house.
As I roamed the castle, I would haphazardly throw things around for laughs. It was advised against because there were things 'following' me, but I didn't care too much. I figured I could just throw things at it and make a quick getaway. Then I was put to the test.
I walked out into a large hall, and out of the corner of the characters eye, a large movement is seen. A flesh colored humanoid creature is seen walking into another room. My friends jump and even I went, "Oh shit!", but it was in excitement. I arm myself with a chair (yes, a chair. There is nothing else) and I start to follow it.
"What the fuck are you doing man?! It's in there! It'll kill you! You can't kill it!"
"No, I know I gotta go this way."
We argued about it for a few moments, but in the end, I was the guy playing it, and I walked on. Right in front of the doorway, it was all or nothing. I charged into the room, chair in hand ready to throw it at whatever the fuck was in my way... then I heard a slight growl turn into a monstrous howl and we all screamed.
I dropped the chair, and I started yelling at the TV as I backtracked and ran, "OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCKING FUCK FUCK PURPLE PENGUINS SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!! DEAR GOD IT'S AFTER ME SHIIIIIIIIIIT".
Oh how brave I was.
At least my friends did the same.
So as I ran, taking turns and not bothering to look behind me in case it was still behind me (I could've swore I heard its breathing, but it probably wasn't chasing me for long at all), my friends and I were all yelling. We must've sounded like little girls.
"Fuck where do I go!?!?!11?//1/!?!?!?!? I'm gonna die, I'm gonnda die, I'm donna diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!", until I eventually hid...in a closet. I hid in a closet for probably about ten minutes as we sat there and stared at the screen whimpering wondering if it was going to find me and kill me.
After I finally emerged from my boudoir haven, we all realized that that was indeed where I had to go next. That was most definitely the place that I had to go through next. The thought just pissed us off as well as mortally scarred us.
Long story short, we did make it past that monster and now I am stuck at an area where I must traverse a series of flooded rooms hopping from one small box to another without landing in the water. Why you ask? Because if I land in the water, I will be eaten and killed by an invisible monster! How unfair is that? I don't even get to see what kills me.
Overall, if you're a fan of survival horror, it is definitely a game to pick up. Just about everything about the game is good except for the part that your character is an asshole that brought this upon themselves.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Supplements
As I've mentioned a couple times, I've been working out and trying to get healthier. This has been going on for a while, but before the past month, I was working mostly on muscle mass and strength. I was doing lots of varied pushups, sits ups, intense stretches, squats, etc. I was gaining muscle in quite satisfactory ways. I wasn't losing too much weight though. I knew I should've been doing more cardio, but at that time, I really hated it. I got extremely weak shin bones, so jogging and such isn't something I can really do.
So as I'm sitting watching TV one day, I see a commercial for a product called RipFire. It was a workout supplement that is supposed to boost workouts and thus boost weight loss to an extent. I'm usually kind of skeptical, but it gave a lot of home video footage of people talking about how it gave a boost to help them lose that quick extra 10-15 pounds in two weeks. It gave a free two week trial, and I thought that if they're giving two weeks free and people lose about ten pounds on it in two weeks, the worst that could happen is that it doesn't work... Right?
So I order, and it wasn't too bad. Just talked to a friendly guy who assured me of all the details and took care of all things that I asked. Everything was good. Then he transferred me to a contest to win 10,000 dollars. Alright, whatever.
I start talking to her, and I'm getting tired at this point. She just keeps going on and on about how she thinks I'm 'lucky' and how there's definitely a chance I'll win. I don't really care, but I try to remain polite. She asks name, I give it to her. Email, I give her my junk mail address. Then she asked for my credit card number.
"Woah, woah, Uhm...what do you need?"
"I need a credit card number, but don't worry. It'll be completely safe"
"....yeah, no. I'm going to have to pass on that"
"Oh, that's a shame. I really think you would've won. You sure? Alright, well, thanks for talking and before I go I'm going to transfer you over to a contest that you can win a free cruise in the Bahamas! Kthnxbai!"
"Ahh!!! Waitwaitwait"-click-"....Fuck."
So I wait, and while I didn't hang up (I just don't like hanging up on people, I feel it's insanely rude), I was quite frustrated and impatient at this point. A woman has picked up after a couple minutes giving me the same bit. The luckiness, wondering who'd I'd take. I finally get a word in edgewise and I make up some bull shit excuse about how I'm scared of going on boats cause cousins almost drowned me once by throwing me off of a boat. her sweet tone turns to pissed and she hangs up on me! As peeved as I was, I was more relieved to get off the phone with her.
And so I wait...
and wait....
waiting...
Then finally I get my packaged two weeks later. A week late, but I was just happy to get it. Though I ended up getting a whole bottle of the RipFire supplement. Then I look on the bottle and find that it has no ingredients listing. It pretty much just said, 'ey, take a couple of these before a workout. Good luck yo'.
This seemed fishy, but I look online for things about it. Apparently, it's pretty much a scam. If you use more than the recommended amount, they bill you for it. If you don't send it back in, they charge you fifty dollars for it. If you don't specifically say that you would no longer like to get supplements and MAKE them take you off the list, they will charge you fifty dollars, plus ANOTHER fifty dollars for the shipments they make after that.
But it gets better.
As I look around for reasons why they don't have an ingredients listing, I find something quite startling. I find out that it can have a few effects. Nausea. Okay, acceptable. It's a foreign thing going into your body, I can understand that. Headaches. Okay, that's usually another thing that links up with nausea. Male impotency. Okay, acce-wait, what?! Yeah, male impotency. Call me crazy, but I don't feel like having such an affliction this early in the game.
Then, I read that it can cause breast growth in men. Just men. Which, I don't know, but to me, that seems like taking a couple steps backward. I'm trying to lose the man tits I got, not make them larger. It seemed really counter productive. So you can better believe I sent that shit back.
Moral of the story, you shouldn't order shit you see off TV ever if you want to have kids in the future and you're a man who doesn't like having tits attached to your body.
So as I'm sitting watching TV one day, I see a commercial for a product called RipFire. It was a workout supplement that is supposed to boost workouts and thus boost weight loss to an extent. I'm usually kind of skeptical, but it gave a lot of home video footage of people talking about how it gave a boost to help them lose that quick extra 10-15 pounds in two weeks. It gave a free two week trial, and I thought that if they're giving two weeks free and people lose about ten pounds on it in two weeks, the worst that could happen is that it doesn't work... Right?
So I order, and it wasn't too bad. Just talked to a friendly guy who assured me of all the details and took care of all things that I asked. Everything was good. Then he transferred me to a contest to win 10,000 dollars. Alright, whatever.
I start talking to her, and I'm getting tired at this point. She just keeps going on and on about how she thinks I'm 'lucky' and how there's definitely a chance I'll win. I don't really care, but I try to remain polite. She asks name, I give it to her. Email, I give her my junk mail address. Then she asked for my credit card number.
"Woah, woah, Uhm...what do you need?"
"I need a credit card number, but don't worry. It'll be completely safe"
"....yeah, no. I'm going to have to pass on that"
"Oh, that's a shame. I really think you would've won. You sure? Alright, well, thanks for talking and before I go I'm going to transfer you over to a contest that you can win a free cruise in the Bahamas! Kthnxbai!"
"Ahh!!! Waitwaitwait"-click-"....Fuck."
So I wait, and while I didn't hang up (I just don't like hanging up on people, I feel it's insanely rude), I was quite frustrated and impatient at this point. A woman has picked up after a couple minutes giving me the same bit. The luckiness, wondering who'd I'd take. I finally get a word in edgewise and I make up some bull shit excuse about how I'm scared of going on boats cause cousins almost drowned me once by throwing me off of a boat. her sweet tone turns to pissed and she hangs up on me! As peeved as I was, I was more relieved to get off the phone with her.
And so I wait...
and wait....
waiting...
Then finally I get my packaged two weeks later. A week late, but I was just happy to get it. Though I ended up getting a whole bottle of the RipFire supplement. Then I look on the bottle and find that it has no ingredients listing. It pretty much just said, 'ey, take a couple of these before a workout. Good luck yo'.
This seemed fishy, but I look online for things about it. Apparently, it's pretty much a scam. If you use more than the recommended amount, they bill you for it. If you don't send it back in, they charge you fifty dollars for it. If you don't specifically say that you would no longer like to get supplements and MAKE them take you off the list, they will charge you fifty dollars, plus ANOTHER fifty dollars for the shipments they make after that.
But it gets better.
As I look around for reasons why they don't have an ingredients listing, I find something quite startling. I find out that it can have a few effects. Nausea. Okay, acceptable. It's a foreign thing going into your body, I can understand that. Headaches. Okay, that's usually another thing that links up with nausea. Male impotency. Okay, acce-wait, what?! Yeah, male impotency. Call me crazy, but I don't feel like having such an affliction this early in the game.
Then, I read that it can cause breast growth in men. Just men. Which, I don't know, but to me, that seems like taking a couple steps backward. I'm trying to lose the man tits I got, not make them larger. It seemed really counter productive. So you can better believe I sent that shit back.
Moral of the story, you shouldn't order shit you see off TV ever if you want to have kids in the future and you're a man who doesn't like having tits attached to your body.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Smart Ass and Quick Thinking
I don't think this one will be a wall of text like a lot of my other posts, but it'll be just as good so strap in for the ride!
So back in second grade, I had a beast of a teacher. In the bad way though, not the good way. She was a bitch of a woman. Now, looking back, I did learn the difference between strict and mean. I had a lot of strict teachers, but this one was just monstrous. She'd make fun of kids, couldn't teach well, she'd yell at us at the top of her lungs. People in the basement could hear her, which was honestly no exaggeration.
Now, even as a kid I was a smart ass. I tend to talk a lot and while usually, it's in good humor, I can be a huge prick. I'm sure this has been clarified in other stories for those of you who have been following along, but it should be said here just so that it is now fully expressed.
The school I went to wasn't a very good school in terms of education. By second grade, people were still having trouble adding, subtracting, and reading. Or maybe my expectations were too high, but regardless, I quickly grew bored ever since I began kindergarten and so taught myself math and reading at home. I was already reading at what they declared to be a high school reading level.
What they did is they had papers that were filled with columns of words. Every week, the teacher would take each kid aside one by one, and see how many of the words they could read. They would read until a certain amount of errors were made and progress was apparently made. When I had done it, I had read every one of those sheets they had with ease.
When winter rolled by, there was an incentive given to improve reading skills. For every kid that was able to read up to a certain level would go on bowling field trip with whoever else throughout the second grade was also able to improve. Me, having burst through the ceiling and having no way to improve, asked what I could do. After thinking about it, the teacher said that if my school attendance improved, I could join.
I was sickly little kid. Whether this was because I moved from Hawaii to here in Michigan and my body just wasn't prepared for that or because of naturally having a shitty immune system. Who knows.
Anyway, the month or two rolled on and kids improved and I thought I had done better too. I showed up sick to school a couple times and figured I had to have been doing better. Then came the day the names were read.
"Efron...You made it. April... You didn't make it. _____... You didn't make it..." and she went on. I couldn't believe my ears. I had zoned out and couldn't think. I wasn't sure if I was more upset or disappointed.
Immediately afterwards, it was time to turn in some homework. I walked up there, feeling slowed by the crushing disappointment. I finally got to the front of the line and turned in my homework but before leaving, asked why I didn't get to go.
"Sorry ______, you're attendance just didn't improve that much. I can't let you go with us."
Me being the little prick I was responded, "Fine. I'm going to Hawaii anyway and you're not so there."
Troll attempt: Successful.
She snapped and I was almost afraid she was going to hit me. She yelled at me for five minutes straight and scared all my classmates. To see her lose it like that though was just as worth it then as it is now reflecting back on it. She then sent me down to the office to have a talk with the principal and my mom, but even the principal didn't care. She apparently didn't like the teacher either and let me go with a slap on the wrist. Felt good man.
Fast forward almost a decade to when I was a Junior in high school. While this isn't as elaborate, it still should be noted here anyway just cause I don't think there'll be a better time to list it.
To give a bit of a physical description of what I look like, or at least my head, or more specifically my hair, it's very thick, jet black, and has a lot of white strands in it. They're very noticeable and other people have described it has giving me a 'salt 'n' pepper' look.
How does this relate you ask? Well, One day I'm walking through the halls. Transitioning to my next class. Maybe it was math, Japanese, AP Biology, I don't know. While I was walking, a girl walking opposite but parallel to me stopped me in the middle of the hallway with a look of confusion in her eyes.
"Hey, did you know you got gray hair?", it's a characteristic that is often pointed out to me by people I meet at first. I usually laugh it off or sometimes I pretend to be surprised about it. I mean, it's my hair, and it's quite a permanent prominent product of growth. Of course I've noticed it. This day though, I sang a different tune.
"Oh, it's because I age faster", she met with a look of even greater confusion and asked what I meant.
"Well, I'm originally from Hawaii. We age a lot faster, kinda like dogs so thus I get gray hair kinda early. In Hawaiian years, I'm about 42."
"What? Why?", she seemed a bit skeptical, but she was pretty curious. So I followed it up.
"Well, being my native ancestry was closer to the equator, we went around the sun a lot faster than you would. So this characteristic was something that kinda got bred into my genetics as time moved on. So by the time I get to be about twenty five or thirty, I'll probably die. It sucks, but I've learned to live with it.", I said this all with fluidity and a straight face. I saw her eyes go from skeptical and disbelief to instant pity.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. That sucks so bad", she seemed genuinely remorseful for my 'plight'.
"Yeah, well, like I said, it happens. No point getting all sad about it ya know? Well I gotta get to class. Bye!", and with that, I ran off to the class I ended up being late to, but being I was going to die at tewnty five, meh, who cares right?
So back in second grade, I had a beast of a teacher. In the bad way though, not the good way. She was a bitch of a woman. Now, looking back, I did learn the difference between strict and mean. I had a lot of strict teachers, but this one was just monstrous. She'd make fun of kids, couldn't teach well, she'd yell at us at the top of her lungs. People in the basement could hear her, which was honestly no exaggeration.
Now, even as a kid I was a smart ass. I tend to talk a lot and while usually, it's in good humor, I can be a huge prick. I'm sure this has been clarified in other stories for those of you who have been following along, but it should be said here just so that it is now fully expressed.
The school I went to wasn't a very good school in terms of education. By second grade, people were still having trouble adding, subtracting, and reading. Or maybe my expectations were too high, but regardless, I quickly grew bored ever since I began kindergarten and so taught myself math and reading at home. I was already reading at what they declared to be a high school reading level.
What they did is they had papers that were filled with columns of words. Every week, the teacher would take each kid aside one by one, and see how many of the words they could read. They would read until a certain amount of errors were made and progress was apparently made. When I had done it, I had read every one of those sheets they had with ease.
When winter rolled by, there was an incentive given to improve reading skills. For every kid that was able to read up to a certain level would go on bowling field trip with whoever else throughout the second grade was also able to improve. Me, having burst through the ceiling and having no way to improve, asked what I could do. After thinking about it, the teacher said that if my school attendance improved, I could join.
I was sickly little kid. Whether this was because I moved from Hawaii to here in Michigan and my body just wasn't prepared for that or because of naturally having a shitty immune system. Who knows.
Anyway, the month or two rolled on and kids improved and I thought I had done better too. I showed up sick to school a couple times and figured I had to have been doing better. Then came the day the names were read.
"Efron...You made it. April... You didn't make it. _____... You didn't make it..." and she went on. I couldn't believe my ears. I had zoned out and couldn't think. I wasn't sure if I was more upset or disappointed.
Immediately afterwards, it was time to turn in some homework. I walked up there, feeling slowed by the crushing disappointment. I finally got to the front of the line and turned in my homework but before leaving, asked why I didn't get to go.
"Sorry ______, you're attendance just didn't improve that much. I can't let you go with us."
Me being the little prick I was responded, "Fine. I'm going to Hawaii anyway and you're not so there."
Troll attempt: Successful.
She snapped and I was almost afraid she was going to hit me. She yelled at me for five minutes straight and scared all my classmates. To see her lose it like that though was just as worth it then as it is now reflecting back on it. She then sent me down to the office to have a talk with the principal and my mom, but even the principal didn't care. She apparently didn't like the teacher either and let me go with a slap on the wrist. Felt good man.
Fast forward almost a decade to when I was a Junior in high school. While this isn't as elaborate, it still should be noted here anyway just cause I don't think there'll be a better time to list it.
To give a bit of a physical description of what I look like, or at least my head, or more specifically my hair, it's very thick, jet black, and has a lot of white strands in it. They're very noticeable and other people have described it has giving me a 'salt 'n' pepper' look.
How does this relate you ask? Well, One day I'm walking through the halls. Transitioning to my next class. Maybe it was math, Japanese, AP Biology, I don't know. While I was walking, a girl walking opposite but parallel to me stopped me in the middle of the hallway with a look of confusion in her eyes.
"Hey, did you know you got gray hair?", it's a characteristic that is often pointed out to me by people I meet at first. I usually laugh it off or sometimes I pretend to be surprised about it. I mean, it's my hair, and it's quite a permanent prominent product of growth. Of course I've noticed it. This day though, I sang a different tune.
"Oh, it's because I age faster", she met with a look of even greater confusion and asked what I meant.
"Well, I'm originally from Hawaii. We age a lot faster, kinda like dogs so thus I get gray hair kinda early. In Hawaiian years, I'm about 42."
"What? Why?", she seemed a bit skeptical, but she was pretty curious. So I followed it up.
"Well, being my native ancestry was closer to the equator, we went around the sun a lot faster than you would. So this characteristic was something that kinda got bred into my genetics as time moved on. So by the time I get to be about twenty five or thirty, I'll probably die. It sucks, but I've learned to live with it.", I said this all with fluidity and a straight face. I saw her eyes go from skeptical and disbelief to instant pity.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. That sucks so bad", she seemed genuinely remorseful for my 'plight'.
"Yeah, well, like I said, it happens. No point getting all sad about it ya know? Well I gotta get to class. Bye!", and with that, I ran off to the class I ended up being late to, but being I was going to die at tewnty five, meh, who cares right?
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Racism
I'm not sure if I ever mentioned this at any other time in blog, but I am Hawaiian. I got some Asian and even a bit of Puerto Rican as well as Apache (or maybe Cherokee, I forgot), but I am dominantly Hawaiian. I usually just consider myself a general Pacific Islander in most cases when I'm with my Filipino friends, but that's a different story.
It is said that many people are racist to some degree. Some people are horrifically racist whilst others might laugh at a racist joke or something. I am more of the latter. Someone tells me a black or a white joke, I'll laugh. It's just how life is. Everyone has a different sense of humor. Do I think it makes me a terrible person? No. Do I think any worse of people who don't find racist humor funny? Nah. However, there are sometimes when some people need to be put in their place. I know that some people are really sensitive when it comes to issues of race, so if you're one of those people, you might not want to read anymore.
There was a time when I was at a store. It was a Blockbuster or a Family Video. I was with a couple of friends and we were looking for a good comedy to watch. As we scoured the shelves for something good to watch, one of my friends stopped on a Madea movie. He said his mom thought it was a hilarious movie and this is where I had to stop him and explain something to him.
That was a series created by Tyler Perry. It was a movie that appealed to certain women, appealed to certain black people, but it hit home to pretty much every black woman. Being we were neither black, nor were we women, chances are, we would not find it funny or at least not enough to spend a couple bucks on the rental.
Now that's where it should've ended, that's where we should've been allowed to move on and perhaps go and find something else. If only it was so easy.I had not payed attention to my surroundings and was ambushed by a black woman who was probably going to pick up the same movie I had just scoffed.
"Excuuuuuse me?!"", she wanted to make her existence known and strong.
I knew that I was fucked, and so I turned around. This woman gave the most dominating glare at me, but I do not back down to intimidation of this caliber and so I just looked her in the eyes. However, I knew that I was in the wrong, so I tried to apologize and be on my way. Unfortunately, she was not going to let me off so easy.
"Yeah, you better be sorry you stupid ignant ass teenager. How dare you be spoutin' off such bullshit!", again, I tried to apologize, and I could see my friends out of my peripherals silently laughing to themselves as this lady lashed into me.
"You have any idea what my people have gone through?! We've been enslaved by oppressive assholes like you! We've had to fight for our rights from dick faces like you! You ain't got any idea the pain people like me have gone through you stupid punk ass bitch!", now I'm usually a collected person, but against such things like this, I could not keep my lips shut any longer and I unsheathed my sharpened tongue.
"Okay, first of all, I had nothing to do with that shit. I am Hawaiian. Wanna know what 'people like me' when you were enslaved? We were chilling on our fucking island by ourselves. Had to fight for your rights from dick faces like me? I had nothing to do with that shit. In fact, know what some of your people did to mine? You helped those white people you apparently hate so much, imprison our queen inside of her own palace, killed my people just cause we didn't want to give up our islands to you fuckers.", she shrank back a little bit just at that, surprised that anyone actually stood up to that, but I'm a hot head, and I hate it when people do that so I continued.
"You know what we used to do to people that came to our islands before we were accepted to the mainland? We would beat the shit out of them, and eeeaaaat them. And I swear, if you ever get into my face with that weak ass shit again, my primal instincts might just emerge", after that, I just stared back into her and walked away. Sure, I kinda embellished that last part a bit about eating people, but it's not like she knew any better.
Now, in all interests of fairness, I feel like I have to hit white people as well or else this is just going to seem really one sided.
In my school days, there was a plethora of different personalities as I'm sure there are in other place of the world. I'm tolerant of most people, but being a free thinking and expressive person, I don't like the people who are uptight and extremely politically correct. I believe we were given the gift of speech and communication to freely express ourselves. Now, this is not to say that we should just say every god damn thing on our minds, but we shouldn't be hindered by other peoples expectations or feelings.
I was talking to a couple of friends, and we had recently finished a book called Bless Me, Ultima. It was a book about this young boy of Navajo blood who is sent to live with his Grandma for the summer in order to get back in touch with his roots and his culture. It was a pretty good book. I wouldn't read it again, but it deserves a glance through.
Anyway, I was talking about this book, and I made a joke about Indians (I even implicitly feathered, not dotted) owning all the casinos or something to that extent. I admit, it wasn't the best of jokes, probably wasn't even that funny, but enter the uptight politically correct guy that feels they have to stick up for anyone and everyone.
"You do realize that it's only like that cause we did that to them right? After raping their lands and their cultures and in essence committing genocide against them, we gave them a very sorry excuse for reparations in the form of casinos and reservations", this was one of those kids that I did not even have the patience for. Besides, why do people keep on including me with all these groups of people? I'm not saying Hawaiians or even Pacific Islanders are saints, but still.
"Okay. First off, that is completely wrong", I started off, but they cut me short.
"No, it's not. Maybe if you cracked open a history book and actually took the time to read, you'd know", while I don't consider myself a thousand watt bulb, I do not like levels of condescending such as this.
"Maybe if you took a moment to actually think, maybe you'd see that I'm not exactly like you. I come from the islands out in the Pacific. I did absolutely nothing to the Indians", I could see that they winced at hearing someone call them Indians and not Native Americans, but old habits die hard, "I do know of the genocide that you speak of. Using biological warfare against them by giving them smallpox infected blankets. Sending them on the trail of tears. Betraying them and mocking their culture. I know of all the things that you did. But don't lump me into that when you say 'we'. We were surfing and having fun till you assholes took us into your union. I in fact sympathize with them", I was going to go on, but the bell rang and this kid punked out saying he didn't want to be late. I'm just glad I could put him in his place.
Now, I bring this up only because I needed a story to share and because I couldn't think of any others. I mean no offense to be taken from this, and I hope none did. I'm sure there were much better ways to handle the above situations, but it's just who I am.
Oh, and before I leave, I have two more quick things to say. One, Obama is not Hawaiian. I know a lot of people who assumed for some reason that I was going to vote for Obama because of that. Number one, I am not that type of person and petty reasons like that should never be a reason to vote for someone. The difference between him and I is that his family moved to Hawaii and was just born there. If you were to trace his lineage back a couple centuries, you'd find the majority of his ancestry is located somewhere in Kenya. I on the other hand can trace it back to the ancient Hawaiians that Tito mentioned so many times in Rocket Power.
The other is that I wanna know if there are any Hawaiian stereotypes or if there are reasons to be racist against us. The only things I've ever heard is that we're really laid back and relaxed. Oh, and that according to Family Guy, we're smelly. I always wanted to meet someone who is racist against me because I just wanted to hear their reasons.
Thanks for reading as always! I'll try and think of something more lighthearted to write for next time.
It is said that many people are racist to some degree. Some people are horrifically racist whilst others might laugh at a racist joke or something. I am more of the latter. Someone tells me a black or a white joke, I'll laugh. It's just how life is. Everyone has a different sense of humor. Do I think it makes me a terrible person? No. Do I think any worse of people who don't find racist humor funny? Nah. However, there are sometimes when some people need to be put in their place. I know that some people are really sensitive when it comes to issues of race, so if you're one of those people, you might not want to read anymore.
There was a time when I was at a store. It was a Blockbuster or a Family Video. I was with a couple of friends and we were looking for a good comedy to watch. As we scoured the shelves for something good to watch, one of my friends stopped on a Madea movie. He said his mom thought it was a hilarious movie and this is where I had to stop him and explain something to him.
That was a series created by Tyler Perry. It was a movie that appealed to certain women, appealed to certain black people, but it hit home to pretty much every black woman. Being we were neither black, nor were we women, chances are, we would not find it funny or at least not enough to spend a couple bucks on the rental.
Now that's where it should've ended, that's where we should've been allowed to move on and perhaps go and find something else. If only it was so easy.I had not payed attention to my surroundings and was ambushed by a black woman who was probably going to pick up the same movie I had just scoffed.
"Excuuuuuse me?!"", she wanted to make her existence known and strong.
I knew that I was fucked, and so I turned around. This woman gave the most dominating glare at me, but I do not back down to intimidation of this caliber and so I just looked her in the eyes. However, I knew that I was in the wrong, so I tried to apologize and be on my way. Unfortunately, she was not going to let me off so easy.
"Yeah, you better be sorry you stupid ignant ass teenager. How dare you be spoutin' off such bullshit!", again, I tried to apologize, and I could see my friends out of my peripherals silently laughing to themselves as this lady lashed into me.
"You have any idea what my people have gone through?! We've been enslaved by oppressive assholes like you! We've had to fight for our rights from dick faces like you! You ain't got any idea the pain people like me have gone through you stupid punk ass bitch!", now I'm usually a collected person, but against such things like this, I could not keep my lips shut any longer and I unsheathed my sharpened tongue.
"Okay, first of all, I had nothing to do with that shit. I am Hawaiian. Wanna know what 'people like me' when you were enslaved? We were chilling on our fucking island by ourselves. Had to fight for your rights from dick faces like me? I had nothing to do with that shit. In fact, know what some of your people did to mine? You helped those white people you apparently hate so much, imprison our queen inside of her own palace, killed my people just cause we didn't want to give up our islands to you fuckers.", she shrank back a little bit just at that, surprised that anyone actually stood up to that, but I'm a hot head, and I hate it when people do that so I continued.
"You know what we used to do to people that came to our islands before we were accepted to the mainland? We would beat the shit out of them, and eeeaaaat them. And I swear, if you ever get into my face with that weak ass shit again, my primal instincts might just emerge", after that, I just stared back into her and walked away. Sure, I kinda embellished that last part a bit about eating people, but it's not like she knew any better.
Now, in all interests of fairness, I feel like I have to hit white people as well or else this is just going to seem really one sided.
In my school days, there was a plethora of different personalities as I'm sure there are in other place of the world. I'm tolerant of most people, but being a free thinking and expressive person, I don't like the people who are uptight and extremely politically correct. I believe we were given the gift of speech and communication to freely express ourselves. Now, this is not to say that we should just say every god damn thing on our minds, but we shouldn't be hindered by other peoples expectations or feelings.
I was talking to a couple of friends, and we had recently finished a book called Bless Me, Ultima. It was a book about this young boy of Navajo blood who is sent to live with his Grandma for the summer in order to get back in touch with his roots and his culture. It was a pretty good book. I wouldn't read it again, but it deserves a glance through.
Anyway, I was talking about this book, and I made a joke about Indians (I even implicitly feathered, not dotted) owning all the casinos or something to that extent. I admit, it wasn't the best of jokes, probably wasn't even that funny, but enter the uptight politically correct guy that feels they have to stick up for anyone and everyone.
"You do realize that it's only like that cause we did that to them right? After raping their lands and their cultures and in essence committing genocide against them, we gave them a very sorry excuse for reparations in the form of casinos and reservations", this was one of those kids that I did not even have the patience for. Besides, why do people keep on including me with all these groups of people? I'm not saying Hawaiians or even Pacific Islanders are saints, but still.
"Okay. First off, that is completely wrong", I started off, but they cut me short.
"No, it's not. Maybe if you cracked open a history book and actually took the time to read, you'd know", while I don't consider myself a thousand watt bulb, I do not like levels of condescending such as this.
"Maybe if you took a moment to actually think, maybe you'd see that I'm not exactly like you. I come from the islands out in the Pacific. I did absolutely nothing to the Indians", I could see that they winced at hearing someone call them Indians and not Native Americans, but old habits die hard, "I do know of the genocide that you speak of. Using biological warfare against them by giving them smallpox infected blankets. Sending them on the trail of tears. Betraying them and mocking their culture. I know of all the things that you did. But don't lump me into that when you say 'we'. We were surfing and having fun till you assholes took us into your union. I in fact sympathize with them", I was going to go on, but the bell rang and this kid punked out saying he didn't want to be late. I'm just glad I could put him in his place.
Now, I bring this up only because I needed a story to share and because I couldn't think of any others. I mean no offense to be taken from this, and I hope none did. I'm sure there were much better ways to handle the above situations, but it's just who I am.
Oh, and before I leave, I have two more quick things to say. One, Obama is not Hawaiian. I know a lot of people who assumed for some reason that I was going to vote for Obama because of that. Number one, I am not that type of person and petty reasons like that should never be a reason to vote for someone. The difference between him and I is that his family moved to Hawaii and was just born there. If you were to trace his lineage back a couple centuries, you'd find the majority of his ancestry is located somewhere in Kenya. I on the other hand can trace it back to the ancient Hawaiians that Tito mentioned so many times in Rocket Power.
The other is that I wanna know if there are any Hawaiian stereotypes or if there are reasons to be racist against us. The only things I've ever heard is that we're really laid back and relaxed. Oh, and that according to Family Guy, we're smelly. I always wanted to meet someone who is racist against me because I just wanted to hear their reasons.
Thanks for reading as always! I'll try and think of something more lighthearted to write for next time.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Eats
I come from a family of heavy eaters. We can eat a ton of food and luckily, not much will happen to our bodies. I let mine go a little bit, but I'm swimming again and melting off the weight, though I digress. This is just a couple stories about some foods.
I had a large appetite, even when I was a little kid. One night, I was being babysat by an old family friend. He was fourteen or fifteen at the time and regularly played football for his school. I was just a punkass kid. It was around dinner time and we were both really hungry. I don't know whose idea it was, but we decided on a hot dog eating contest.
My mom had bought a large package of hot dogs, it had thirty two in the pack and we decided to make the whole entire pack. Boiled it up, threw them in buns, and took out the ketchup. We sat down at the table and divided up the hot dogs between us and began.
It was not a timed event, it was primarily just to see who could eat more. So we began. Slowly, one by one, the hot dogs disappeared. A couple of them had ketchup, a couple of them had soggy buns, but whatever, we chomped them down. Oddly enough, I was able to keep up with him dog for dog.
As time went on, we both slowed our eating, but we still chewed on, filling ourselves with the tubular meats. It got down to our last dogs, and he couldn't believe that I had eaten so many hot dogs. Weirdly, I thought the same about him. It was fifteen to fifteen, and we were both struggling to eat the last dog. He finished his dog before mine, so he technically won, but I finished my last hot dog not too long after. He said it was one of the most impressive feats he's ever seen a little kid do. I was fucking proud of myself.
Then came a day about a year ago when I was still in school. I was going to a technical school for various trades. I had signed up for Culinary Arts, but there were quite a few different classes to sign up for like Biotechnology, Automotive Repair, Business Management and a few others.
It was a tradition at that school to have a day called 'Weenie Day' every year at the end of the year. It was officially called 'Student Appreciation Day', but they Weenie Day sounds so much better. This is a day where the school holds a bunch of events and each cluster of classes creates teams to compete against each other. The one who wins the most events is awarded the prestigious Bronze Weenie Statue.
Beforehand, they give out awards to all of the people in each of the classes. It was quite tedious, but all in all, it would just show a picture of someone, say that they passed all their classes, and go onto the next kid. Every now and then, a kid that was popular would be shown and some people would cheer or give some congratulations.
I only tell this to give an idea of how close everyone in my class was. To show some kind of team spirit, we all made tye-dye T-shirts, and wore them down. When it got time to show off our own, on every picture it plastered on the projection screen, we made such a large ruckus, our entire class got in trouble. It was worth it.
So then came time to participate in the events. I signed up for the hot dog contest. Many people were skeptical in my eating abilities. They had wanted someone like one of the fatter kids to do it, but just because they were bigger, that didn't mean they could eat more or eat faster. I know what I was doing, and I successfully signed up.
I got trash talked by the other people who were representing their teams. They claimed they were going to out eat me, but I knew better. I wasn't over confident, but I was definitely fearless going into it. The challenge was ten hot dogs, three minutes, no hands. Six way battle.
A large crowd gathered around the long table where the contestants and I had sat down, looking down at our cylindrical meats. People were looking down at us, and I could hear people even taking bets as to who was going to win. There was a girl there, and people were making sexual comments, to nobody's surprise. I heard most of the people placing bets down on the guy next to me. He was a track and field star, a wrestler, played football, and even got a little high specifically to get the munchies.
It was tense. Silent. Then the go ahead was given and it started. Diving down into my plate, I voraciously tore into my hot dogs. No longer the sloppy eight year old I once was, I inhaled my food. People were shocked at how fast I ate, especially when I got down my pace. People started chanting my name. It was an odd feeling of pride.
At roughly two and a half minutes, I was done. My dogs were all gone, my stomach only half full. I looked up, negativity crept in and I thought maybe one of the other teams had already finished. I was dead wrong, the others were only about half done. The girl though was three fourths done. When the clock whined down, I was declared the prominent victor and my team cheered in glory, hell, even some of the other teams cheered in unexpected praise, and the girl came in second.
That day, my class won just about every event we played except for one. It was a great day. A fun day.
Last short story. This summer, my family from Hawaii came up to see me graduate high school and just visit in general. We went up to somewhere to eat, I think it might have been a Denny's. My relatives are, while far from rich, are far from broke. As we sat down to look at the menu, I was very hesitant on what to order. Seeing my looks, my grandma told me I could get whatever I wanted since we were not going to get anything else that day.
I took her up on that.
I ordered three pancakes, some crepes, three pieces of bacon, two pieces of sausage, a four egg omelet, toast, orange juice, milk, and hash browns. As the food came, my uncles who sat next to me were amazed at the food I ordered, but they figured I would be taking some of it in a box and complimented me on thinking ahead to take food with me. That was only because they didn't know my cavernous stomach.
As I ate, they just looked on, shocked that I could put it all away and not look like a total slob or be completely out of shape. I shoved more and more down into my gullet. I ate everything, but I was soon coming to a block as a little bit of pancake remained.
I was going to tap out, I figured I might not have been as hungry as I had originally thought. Maybe I had almost literally bitten off more than I could chew. When defeat seemed to settle down into my eyes, my uncle looked at me very seriously.
"Listen. You can eat this. The pain you're feeling, you'll only feel it now. The pride and honor from finish though, that...that is forever."
Feeling a renewed vigor, I gulped down a drink of milk and devoured the rest of the pancakes. They were flabbergasted by my ability to eat. It was a filling breakfast. I regretted nothing.
I had a large appetite, even when I was a little kid. One night, I was being babysat by an old family friend. He was fourteen or fifteen at the time and regularly played football for his school. I was just a punkass kid. It was around dinner time and we were both really hungry. I don't know whose idea it was, but we decided on a hot dog eating contest.
My mom had bought a large package of hot dogs, it had thirty two in the pack and we decided to make the whole entire pack. Boiled it up, threw them in buns, and took out the ketchup. We sat down at the table and divided up the hot dogs between us and began.
It was not a timed event, it was primarily just to see who could eat more. So we began. Slowly, one by one, the hot dogs disappeared. A couple of them had ketchup, a couple of them had soggy buns, but whatever, we chomped them down. Oddly enough, I was able to keep up with him dog for dog.
As time went on, we both slowed our eating, but we still chewed on, filling ourselves with the tubular meats. It got down to our last dogs, and he couldn't believe that I had eaten so many hot dogs. Weirdly, I thought the same about him. It was fifteen to fifteen, and we were both struggling to eat the last dog. He finished his dog before mine, so he technically won, but I finished my last hot dog not too long after. He said it was one of the most impressive feats he's ever seen a little kid do. I was fucking proud of myself.
Then came a day about a year ago when I was still in school. I was going to a technical school for various trades. I had signed up for Culinary Arts, but there were quite a few different classes to sign up for like Biotechnology, Automotive Repair, Business Management and a few others.
It was a tradition at that school to have a day called 'Weenie Day' every year at the end of the year. It was officially called 'Student Appreciation Day', but they Weenie Day sounds so much better. This is a day where the school holds a bunch of events and each cluster of classes creates teams to compete against each other. The one who wins the most events is awarded the prestigious Bronze Weenie Statue.
Beforehand, they give out awards to all of the people in each of the classes. It was quite tedious, but all in all, it would just show a picture of someone, say that they passed all their classes, and go onto the next kid. Every now and then, a kid that was popular would be shown and some people would cheer or give some congratulations.
I only tell this to give an idea of how close everyone in my class was. To show some kind of team spirit, we all made tye-dye T-shirts, and wore them down. When it got time to show off our own, on every picture it plastered on the projection screen, we made such a large ruckus, our entire class got in trouble. It was worth it.
So then came time to participate in the events. I signed up for the hot dog contest. Many people were skeptical in my eating abilities. They had wanted someone like one of the fatter kids to do it, but just because they were bigger, that didn't mean they could eat more or eat faster. I know what I was doing, and I successfully signed up.
I got trash talked by the other people who were representing their teams. They claimed they were going to out eat me, but I knew better. I wasn't over confident, but I was definitely fearless going into it. The challenge was ten hot dogs, three minutes, no hands. Six way battle.
A large crowd gathered around the long table where the contestants and I had sat down, looking down at our cylindrical meats. People were looking down at us, and I could hear people even taking bets as to who was going to win. There was a girl there, and people were making sexual comments, to nobody's surprise. I heard most of the people placing bets down on the guy next to me. He was a track and field star, a wrestler, played football, and even got a little high specifically to get the munchies.
It was tense. Silent. Then the go ahead was given and it started. Diving down into my plate, I voraciously tore into my hot dogs. No longer the sloppy eight year old I once was, I inhaled my food. People were shocked at how fast I ate, especially when I got down my pace. People started chanting my name. It was an odd feeling of pride.
At roughly two and a half minutes, I was done. My dogs were all gone, my stomach only half full. I looked up, negativity crept in and I thought maybe one of the other teams had already finished. I was dead wrong, the others were only about half done. The girl though was three fourths done. When the clock whined down, I was declared the prominent victor and my team cheered in glory, hell, even some of the other teams cheered in unexpected praise, and the girl came in second.
That day, my class won just about every event we played except for one. It was a great day. A fun day.
Last short story. This summer, my family from Hawaii came up to see me graduate high school and just visit in general. We went up to somewhere to eat, I think it might have been a Denny's. My relatives are, while far from rich, are far from broke. As we sat down to look at the menu, I was very hesitant on what to order. Seeing my looks, my grandma told me I could get whatever I wanted since we were not going to get anything else that day.
I took her up on that.
I ordered three pancakes, some crepes, three pieces of bacon, two pieces of sausage, a four egg omelet, toast, orange juice, milk, and hash browns. As the food came, my uncles who sat next to me were amazed at the food I ordered, but they figured I would be taking some of it in a box and complimented me on thinking ahead to take food with me. That was only because they didn't know my cavernous stomach.
As I ate, they just looked on, shocked that I could put it all away and not look like a total slob or be completely out of shape. I shoved more and more down into my gullet. I ate everything, but I was soon coming to a block as a little bit of pancake remained.
I was going to tap out, I figured I might not have been as hungry as I had originally thought. Maybe I had almost literally bitten off more than I could chew. When defeat seemed to settle down into my eyes, my uncle looked at me very seriously.
"Listen. You can eat this. The pain you're feeling, you'll only feel it now. The pride and honor from finish though, that...that is forever."
Feeling a renewed vigor, I gulped down a drink of milk and devoured the rest of the pancakes. They were flabbergasted by my ability to eat. It was a filling breakfast. I regretted nothing.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Texts from a Friend
So I have this friend named Chris. Him and I have known each other for ten years now. Ten extremely long years. As weird as it is, with the exception of my family, he is the person that I have known the longest in my life. It's definitely a very weird thing to think about.
Anyway, my friend Chris, he is certainly an oddball. Him and I, when it comes to our friendship, it's definitely an adverse thing. We get into fights all the time, hit each other, yell, argue, will go out of each our own way just to piss the other one off, and yet, we're still best of friends. Though who we are two completely different people when it comes to others.
I'm a very extroverted live wire who loves to think and do work. Swim, run, bike. He kinda likes to stay inside and keep contact from new people a minimal. He is quite antisocial always claiming that everyone 'annoys' him, but in reality, I know that he just cannot live up to confrontation unless he is in a large difference in power.
Anyway, this is how the title relates to Chris. Due to his antisocial tendencies, he doesn't always know how to talk people. However, he does have a phone and due to not being in direct contact with the person he's talking to, will just talk without thinking about the possible consequences of what he says. He can be a bit dumb like that.
Now, there have been a couple of times (and these are only times that I know of) where he has sent texts that are quite funny in how weird or creepy they are to say the least.
A two years ago, he shot a text to a mutual friend of ours who he lived quite close to.
[Chris] Hey, u wanna come over and watch the superbowl?
[Her] Nah, I don't really like football. Thanks tho.
[Chris] Cool, I don't really like it anyway. I just watch it for the commercials. U wanna come over anyway?
[Her] Why? What we gonna do?
[Chris] Well, I thought I could show you around my house...
[Chris] and around my room....
[Chris] and underneath my sheets....
When my friend showed me this, I cracked up at just how weird he can be and how glad I wasn't a girl at that point. Then there was one time when he shot me a text while I was at work and it just made me laugh my ass off and I had to show everyone.
[Chris] Hey, do you know any girls that would be willing to do sexual things with me while my dad is gone tonight?
For awhile, I had no idea what to respond to him, but I eventually got back with the text
[Me] Find your own whores. They're mine.
So you got any odd friends like this? Friends that send creepy texts like this? Leave'm below in the comments.
Anyway, my friend Chris, he is certainly an oddball. Him and I, when it comes to our friendship, it's definitely an adverse thing. We get into fights all the time, hit each other, yell, argue, will go out of each our own way just to piss the other one off, and yet, we're still best of friends. Though who we are two completely different people when it comes to others.
I'm a very extroverted live wire who loves to think and do work. Swim, run, bike. He kinda likes to stay inside and keep contact from new people a minimal. He is quite antisocial always claiming that everyone 'annoys' him, but in reality, I know that he just cannot live up to confrontation unless he is in a large difference in power.
Anyway, this is how the title relates to Chris. Due to his antisocial tendencies, he doesn't always know how to talk people. However, he does have a phone and due to not being in direct contact with the person he's talking to, will just talk without thinking about the possible consequences of what he says. He can be a bit dumb like that.
Now, there have been a couple of times (and these are only times that I know of) where he has sent texts that are quite funny in how weird or creepy they are to say the least.
A two years ago, he shot a text to a mutual friend of ours who he lived quite close to.
[Chris] Hey, u wanna come over and watch the superbowl?
[Her] Nah, I don't really like football. Thanks tho.
[Chris] Cool, I don't really like it anyway. I just watch it for the commercials. U wanna come over anyway?
[Her] Why? What we gonna do?
[Chris] Well, I thought I could show you around my house...
[Chris] and around my room....
[Chris] and underneath my sheets....
When my friend showed me this, I cracked up at just how weird he can be and how glad I wasn't a girl at that point. Then there was one time when he shot me a text while I was at work and it just made me laugh my ass off and I had to show everyone.
[Chris] Hey, do you know any girls that would be willing to do sexual things with me while my dad is gone tonight?
For awhile, I had no idea what to respond to him, but I eventually got back with the text
[Me] Find your own whores. They're mine.
So you got any odd friends like this? Friends that send creepy texts like this? Leave'm below in the comments.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Stupid Little Kids
Nothing much here to say, I'm just going to get straight to the point. What the hell is up with kids nowadays? They are just straight up stupid now. It makes me feel really old. Now, I'm not saying I was a brainiac when I was a kid, far from it. Most, if not all of us were stupid when we were kids. Though the difference is that when we were stupid, we were climbing a tree, thought we could do a backflip, failed, and broke our arm or something. We had god damn adventures, and sometimes we fucked up, but we learned a thing or two from our creativity.
Kids today? When they're stupid, it's because they've done something completely ridiculous and flabbergasting. I've seen a little kid smoking a cigarette. I was riding my bike around town and I saw a girl who looked no older than ten smoking and taking long drags on a cigarette. This prompted quite hearty laughter from me which caused her to react by being all 'hard'.
"What the fuck you laughing at?", hearing a smoking ten year old girl trying to act all tough with a high squeaky smokers voice (kind of contradictory ey?) was something that just made me laugh even harder.
"I'm laughing at the retard in front of me"
"Say that to my fucking face! I dare you!", I just rode away cracking up.
Then there's the case of cell phones. I've seen kids as young as five with cell phones. I've been out to restaurants and there will be a whole family with a plate of food in front of each of them, and all of them will be paying more attention to their phones. That is something that just blows my mind.
Now, who knows, maybe the adults are overly busy with work or something. I'm not saying that's excuse for them blatantly ignoring the rest of the family, but I could at least understand. But what in the hell are the kids doing? Who knows, maybe the times have drastically changed from when I was that age. Maybe the social life of a five year old is stagnating and overwhelming. Maybe now you have to stay on top of that shit. But with as large as my own social life is, I don't even like to use my phone that much.
It's especially infuriating when little kids have talked down to me because they have better phones than me which is something that really shouldn't matter. Then again, who knows, maybe I'm the weird one who doesn't place that much value into a phone because I have a damn computer. That's a talk for another day though.
The thing that blew my mind the most is when I was watching this TV show called "Beyond Scared Straight". It's a show that is about a punch of punk ass kids that get sent to tour around a jail for a day in hopes that the inmates will scare them enough so that they stop being stupid and don't eventually go to jail.
The in the episodes that I watch, there's always one huge stoner kid. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the type of person that goes around condemning people who smoke weed thinking that it'll kill them or something stupid like that. But the stoner kid in every one of those episodes always says something like, "Yeah, I've been smokin' weed since I've been 7" or something like that. Now I ask you, what the hell was going on at seven that made them start smoking weed? What was so god damn stressful that they felt like they needed to start smokin' weed?
"Yeah man...Ms. Thomas' spelling test", takes a long drag, "that was something else. Cat. C-A-T. This whole time I thought it was K-A-T. Not to mention recess. Them monkey bars be bullshit. I just...I just don't know anymore"
I am a little glad though for that generation. They're providing a great warning so that hopefully, all of us out there know what not to do and maybe, just maybe, we as a society don't have dumbass kids like that ever again.
Kids today? When they're stupid, it's because they've done something completely ridiculous and flabbergasting. I've seen a little kid smoking a cigarette. I was riding my bike around town and I saw a girl who looked no older than ten smoking and taking long drags on a cigarette. This prompted quite hearty laughter from me which caused her to react by being all 'hard'.
"What the fuck you laughing at?", hearing a smoking ten year old girl trying to act all tough with a high squeaky smokers voice (kind of contradictory ey?) was something that just made me laugh even harder.
"I'm laughing at the retard in front of me"
"Say that to my fucking face! I dare you!", I just rode away cracking up.
Then there's the case of cell phones. I've seen kids as young as five with cell phones. I've been out to restaurants and there will be a whole family with a plate of food in front of each of them, and all of them will be paying more attention to their phones. That is something that just blows my mind.
Now, who knows, maybe the adults are overly busy with work or something. I'm not saying that's excuse for them blatantly ignoring the rest of the family, but I could at least understand. But what in the hell are the kids doing? Who knows, maybe the times have drastically changed from when I was that age. Maybe the social life of a five year old is stagnating and overwhelming. Maybe now you have to stay on top of that shit. But with as large as my own social life is, I don't even like to use my phone that much.
It's especially infuriating when little kids have talked down to me because they have better phones than me which is something that really shouldn't matter. Then again, who knows, maybe I'm the weird one who doesn't place that much value into a phone because I have a damn computer. That's a talk for another day though.
The thing that blew my mind the most is when I was watching this TV show called "Beyond Scared Straight". It's a show that is about a punch of punk ass kids that get sent to tour around a jail for a day in hopes that the inmates will scare them enough so that they stop being stupid and don't eventually go to jail.
The in the episodes that I watch, there's always one huge stoner kid. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the type of person that goes around condemning people who smoke weed thinking that it'll kill them or something stupid like that. But the stoner kid in every one of those episodes always says something like, "Yeah, I've been smokin' weed since I've been 7" or something like that. Now I ask you, what the hell was going on at seven that made them start smoking weed? What was so god damn stressful that they felt like they needed to start smokin' weed?
"Yeah man...Ms. Thomas' spelling test", takes a long drag, "that was something else. Cat. C-A-T. This whole time I thought it was K-A-T. Not to mention recess. Them monkey bars be bullshit. I just...I just don't know anymore"
I am a little glad though for that generation. They're providing a great warning so that hopefully, all of us out there know what not to do and maybe, just maybe, we as a society don't have dumbass kids like that ever again.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Pranks
This is a prank that I'm really proud of being able to pull off. It's a story I like to tell in conversation every now and then.
A couple years ago, I was riding my bike around town, not doing too much. Taking up the suns rays, getting a good workout. A wonderful summer day. I didn't really feel like spending time with anybody, just a good time to be by myself.
I rode down a dirt road and while doing so, I rode by an old friends house. I ride by that house quite a bit, but I usually think nothing of it. He was a cool guy, but we didn't hang out much anymore. Still, I always take a look back at that house and think back upon fond memories of childhood. This particular afternoon would stick out past all of these.
Passing by his house, I saw a couple of cars lined up in the driveway. One of them I instantly recognized as my friend Duffy's minivan. It was a dull white with a WRIF (a Michigan Radio station that plays Rock) bumper sticker and a license plate that had two half naked women bordering it. Tacky, but his grandpa got it for him and it made it instantly recognizable.
Now this yard is set up so that the house and the yard is at the bottom of a very large hill, so I'm standing on the high ground along with all the cars parked up. I looked down and saw that a bunch of people were playing airsoft. Some of the people I recognized, others I did not. Regardless, as I saw this, a plan formulated in my head.
I went through my backpack (I carry everything in my backpack from a ballgag to a toothbrush to a change of clothes to spray paint to magazines to cash to food...it goes on) and retrieved a large roll of caution tape that I had found on the Fourth of July that year.
I took the bright yellow plastic and started my handiwork. Luckily, there was also a large expanse of trees that also helped cover me while I did my deed. I started wrapping the car in all three ways. Length by width by height. This roll was particularly large so I was able to wrap most of the car covering almost all of the white space.
This still wasn't enough.
I wrapped up the tires. Got in between the holes in the rims. I wrapped up the wipers. I wrapped up the bumper and fender. There was barely any part of this that was car that was not yellow or black with the words "CAUTION" with the exception of the windows.
But that still wasn't enough.
I had the good fortune that my friend Duffy left his van windows down. It was a particularly hot day, he had his keys on him, he had nothing of value in his car, and it was a safe neighborhood. Why not leave them down so it wasn't burning on the inside later?
Answer: So asshats like me don't get inside and wrap up the seats.
I started from the back and worked my way forward. All rows were completely covered. Headrests, back part and the seat itself. Even after covering all that, I still had a tiny bit of tape left. So I wrapped up his steering wheel and found a broken airsoft magazine and wrapped that.
I got out of the car and took the magazine. I targeted Duffy, screamed his named, and launched the yellow block down the hill through the air. He took a half second look, didn't seem to care, and actually ran in the opposite direction.
Sitting up on the hill admiring my handiwork, I motioned for a couple of the participants in the game to come over. One by one they came over and laughed at what happened and how thorough I was. It was something they definitely were not expecting to see that day.
Eventually, they cut the game short; he had to see what had happened. I got on my bike, ready to go. As he walked up the hill, they gave slight hints as to what happened.
"Caution Duffy, you might not wanna see this"
"Your car looks like it's been wrecked dude"
Things like that. He saw his car and saw me and knew exactly what had happened. He was speechless. I told him to check inside his car. His face had one of those expressions where he wanted to be angry, but it was so good that he couldn't be super mad. At least that's what I thought until he leveled his rifle at me.
"Hey. So you know you're taking that off right?"
I just laughed and rode away.
A couple years ago, I was riding my bike around town, not doing too much. Taking up the suns rays, getting a good workout. A wonderful summer day. I didn't really feel like spending time with anybody, just a good time to be by myself.
I rode down a dirt road and while doing so, I rode by an old friends house. I ride by that house quite a bit, but I usually think nothing of it. He was a cool guy, but we didn't hang out much anymore. Still, I always take a look back at that house and think back upon fond memories of childhood. This particular afternoon would stick out past all of these.
Passing by his house, I saw a couple of cars lined up in the driveway. One of them I instantly recognized as my friend Duffy's minivan. It was a dull white with a WRIF (a Michigan Radio station that plays Rock) bumper sticker and a license plate that had two half naked women bordering it. Tacky, but his grandpa got it for him and it made it instantly recognizable.
Now this yard is set up so that the house and the yard is at the bottom of a very large hill, so I'm standing on the high ground along with all the cars parked up. I looked down and saw that a bunch of people were playing airsoft. Some of the people I recognized, others I did not. Regardless, as I saw this, a plan formulated in my head.
I went through my backpack (I carry everything in my backpack from a ballgag to a toothbrush to a change of clothes to spray paint to magazines to cash to food...it goes on) and retrieved a large roll of caution tape that I had found on the Fourth of July that year.
I took the bright yellow plastic and started my handiwork. Luckily, there was also a large expanse of trees that also helped cover me while I did my deed. I started wrapping the car in all three ways. Length by width by height. This roll was particularly large so I was able to wrap most of the car covering almost all of the white space.
This still wasn't enough.
I wrapped up the tires. Got in between the holes in the rims. I wrapped up the wipers. I wrapped up the bumper and fender. There was barely any part of this that was car that was not yellow or black with the words "CAUTION" with the exception of the windows.
But that still wasn't enough.
I had the good fortune that my friend Duffy left his van windows down. It was a particularly hot day, he had his keys on him, he had nothing of value in his car, and it was a safe neighborhood. Why not leave them down so it wasn't burning on the inside later?
Answer: So asshats like me don't get inside and wrap up the seats.
I started from the back and worked my way forward. All rows were completely covered. Headrests, back part and the seat itself. Even after covering all that, I still had a tiny bit of tape left. So I wrapped up his steering wheel and found a broken airsoft magazine and wrapped that.
I got out of the car and took the magazine. I targeted Duffy, screamed his named, and launched the yellow block down the hill through the air. He took a half second look, didn't seem to care, and actually ran in the opposite direction.
Sitting up on the hill admiring my handiwork, I motioned for a couple of the participants in the game to come over. One by one they came over and laughed at what happened and how thorough I was. It was something they definitely were not expecting to see that day.
Eventually, they cut the game short; he had to see what had happened. I got on my bike, ready to go. As he walked up the hill, they gave slight hints as to what happened.
"Caution Duffy, you might not wanna see this"
"Your car looks like it's been wrecked dude"
Things like that. He saw his car and saw me and knew exactly what had happened. He was speechless. I told him to check inside his car. His face had one of those expressions where he wanted to be angry, but it was so good that he couldn't be super mad. At least that's what I thought until he leveled his rifle at me.
"Hey. So you know you're taking that off right?"
I just laughed and rode away.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Bingo
So this little event happened over the Winter, sometime in January. I was hanging out with my friend Chris one day. We're chillin', hanging out, having fun. We went down to the Flea Market (Swap Meet, or in other words pretty much a large ass garage sale for people from all over).
We got bored and had a few extra bucks to blow off at Dixieland (the Flea Market) and decided to just look around at everything. We saw a lot of old records, CD's, clothes, jackets, board games, videos...Pretty much, it was just a big ol' nostalgia fest. We eventually found a stand selling really rare Yu-Gi-Oh cards and bought a bunch for real cheap and decided we would dig up our decks later and play each other for old times sake.
Before we left, he got a call from his mother. It turns out he forgot that it was Bingo night. He likes to go with his mom from time to time cause if she wins anything, he gets a cut of it. My friend asked me if I would like to go to Bingo with him and his mom. I was now faced with two decisions. Go home to my sister (who I have a great distaste for) or go play Bingo. I've never played Bingo before, so I decided to go on with that.
When we finally got there, I asked how long it would take. Chris said it would take about two maybe two and a half hours. I thought that sounded like a good bit of time to nap and catch up on some sleep so I wrapped myself up in my coat, popped the chair back and went to sleep...
[Fast forward two and a half hours]
The chilling cold started to settle into my jacket and I woke up shivering. I looked at my watch and saw that a lot of time had passed. They hadn't gotten out yet and the parking lot was still full, so I figured it was still on, but was going to get out soon. I took out my phone, gave a couple of girls a ring, talked a bit, but eventually started to question why they hadn't gotten out yet. It was about three hours since they went in.
I got out of the car, into the bingo hall and looked around. This place was HUGE. There was easily a hundred, maybe more, all playing Bingo. There were a few large screens with footage of the numbers being drawn being projected upon, but that was not my primary concern. Looking aloof, I was flagged down my friend only to find that they were only two thirds of the way done.
That's when my trip to number hell began.
As I sat there and heard number after number being called out, I found something out about myself that was rather odd. The longer I sat there, the more my soul would be extracted. My soul was exiting from my mouth, I could see it fleeting from my body as it sought something more. I desperately tried to keep it inside, but a stunning realization hit me. The reason why old people play Bingo. They go there to die.
Old people realize that they're not fit for the rapidly advancing world and want no part in it as the innocence that they once had is slowly destroyed by evil technology. They cannot keep up with what's going on around them. Or they could just be bored and miserable. Whatever their reason, they go there to shorten their life spans via soul absorption.
You could tell how miserable these people were. Desperately stamping every number called out with such precision and accuracy as fast as they can. Some of them would fill up whole tables with sheets of bingo sheets, others had machines that held HUNDREDS of bingo sheets in their memories and stamped it for them. These people were tenacious to say the least.
Then, they snapped at the bingo caller. This was something I could not understand. Apparently, this man was 'bad' at calling out numbers. At one point, a group of people actively jeered this man.
"B-16"
"HE SUCKS! WHAT'S HE DOING!? GET SOMEONE ELSE!!!"
"Please don't boo him, he's a new guy, he's learning the ropes."
The fact that he was 'bad' at calling out numbers because apparently you need training to do this advanced task just blew my mind. We left about an hour and a half later winning no money whatsoever at the cost of half my soul, and a feeling of dread over what the others might do. I know one thing I am never doing again. I hope you heed my warning and don't make the same mistake that I did.
We got bored and had a few extra bucks to blow off at Dixieland (the Flea Market) and decided to just look around at everything. We saw a lot of old records, CD's, clothes, jackets, board games, videos...Pretty much, it was just a big ol' nostalgia fest. We eventually found a stand selling really rare Yu-Gi-Oh cards and bought a bunch for real cheap and decided we would dig up our decks later and play each other for old times sake.
Before we left, he got a call from his mother. It turns out he forgot that it was Bingo night. He likes to go with his mom from time to time cause if she wins anything, he gets a cut of it. My friend asked me if I would like to go to Bingo with him and his mom. I was now faced with two decisions. Go home to my sister (who I have a great distaste for) or go play Bingo. I've never played Bingo before, so I decided to go on with that.
When we finally got there, I asked how long it would take. Chris said it would take about two maybe two and a half hours. I thought that sounded like a good bit of time to nap and catch up on some sleep so I wrapped myself up in my coat, popped the chair back and went to sleep...
[Fast forward two and a half hours]
The chilling cold started to settle into my jacket and I woke up shivering. I looked at my watch and saw that a lot of time had passed. They hadn't gotten out yet and the parking lot was still full, so I figured it was still on, but was going to get out soon. I took out my phone, gave a couple of girls a ring, talked a bit, but eventually started to question why they hadn't gotten out yet. It was about three hours since they went in.
I got out of the car, into the bingo hall and looked around. This place was HUGE. There was easily a hundred, maybe more, all playing Bingo. There were a few large screens with footage of the numbers being drawn being projected upon, but that was not my primary concern. Looking aloof, I was flagged down my friend only to find that they were only two thirds of the way done.
That's when my trip to number hell began.
As I sat there and heard number after number being called out, I found something out about myself that was rather odd. The longer I sat there, the more my soul would be extracted. My soul was exiting from my mouth, I could see it fleeting from my body as it sought something more. I desperately tried to keep it inside, but a stunning realization hit me. The reason why old people play Bingo. They go there to die.
Old people realize that they're not fit for the rapidly advancing world and want no part in it as the innocence that they once had is slowly destroyed by evil technology. They cannot keep up with what's going on around them. Or they could just be bored and miserable. Whatever their reason, they go there to shorten their life spans via soul absorption.
You could tell how miserable these people were. Desperately stamping every number called out with such precision and accuracy as fast as they can. Some of them would fill up whole tables with sheets of bingo sheets, others had machines that held HUNDREDS of bingo sheets in their memories and stamped it for them. These people were tenacious to say the least.
Then, they snapped at the bingo caller. This was something I could not understand. Apparently, this man was 'bad' at calling out numbers. At one point, a group of people actively jeered this man.
"B-16"
"HE SUCKS! WHAT'S HE DOING!? GET SOMEONE ELSE!!!"
"Please don't boo him, he's a new guy, he's learning the ropes."
The fact that he was 'bad' at calling out numbers because apparently you need training to do this advanced task just blew my mind. We left about an hour and a half later winning no money whatsoever at the cost of half my soul, and a feeling of dread over what the others might do. I know one thing I am never doing again. I hope you heed my warning and don't make the same mistake that I did.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Weekend
No funny post or anything here, just a description of what I've been doing when I've been away. It has been a very eventful weekend.
On Friday, I went on a nice workout. I do a lot of cardio work, I'm trying to lose weight, but I dispersed some upper body and ab workouts as well. I do about twenty minutes of cardio, ten of upper body, ten of abs. A combination of that and cutting down significantly on my meals have already started to show some results. People have already commented on some weight loss they have been noticing. Screw workout supplements and corporate weight loss stuff. I don't need any of that, just discipline.
On Saturday, I went for a good swim instead of a workout. I feel like the swim did more for me than the standard workout. I was invited to many things that day. I was invited out to a play, but unfortunately I couldn't go because I couldn't find a ride. I got invited to go clubbing, but I hate that kind of music they play there. It's really annoying. It seems like it'd be a drag. That, and the girl that invited me already has a boyfriend so there's not much there. I was invited to go out and smoke weed, but I don't smoke at all so I had to decline that. Instead I went out to this small little coffee shop to an open mic night.
I ran into a friend that I haven't seen in years because he moved over to Japan to study there for a bit. We were both there for similar reasons, watch some local talent and try our hands at standup. He was pretty funny, I enjoyed his humor. Thanks to the feedback from all of you here, I went and decided to try out some of the things I have written here. It went over well and I want to thank you all for keeping up with my ramblings.
On Sunday, I got 'kidnapped' by this one girl who recently broke up with her boyfriend, comforted her with a couple of other friends. After that, I hung out with my friend and went to his monthly zombie awareness meeting. It was fun to chill with a bunch of nerds like me. They're a charitable group who in addition to messing around, are trying to set up a blood drive and a charity event for the victims of the crazy ass tornadoes.
After that, it was more working out for me. It was just a twenty minute long stretch of cardio, we didn't have any time for anything else.
I went back home, another friend came over, we watched some TV, found out Osama had been killed [insert obligatory Pro-American rally cry here] and soon went to bed.
That was my weekend in a nutshell, sorry I haven't been able to update like I've wanted to.
Now, I want to know more about my readers. It always seems one sided. When I read all of your blogs, it's usually about one interest of yours and that's it. Some of you do electronic reviews, some of you sports things, others internet things, but it's not really who you are. I wanna know more about you. Please, tell me more.
Thanks for the support as always!
On Friday, I went on a nice workout. I do a lot of cardio work, I'm trying to lose weight, but I dispersed some upper body and ab workouts as well. I do about twenty minutes of cardio, ten of upper body, ten of abs. A combination of that and cutting down significantly on my meals have already started to show some results. People have already commented on some weight loss they have been noticing. Screw workout supplements and corporate weight loss stuff. I don't need any of that, just discipline.
On Saturday, I went for a good swim instead of a workout. I feel like the swim did more for me than the standard workout. I was invited to many things that day. I was invited out to a play, but unfortunately I couldn't go because I couldn't find a ride. I got invited to go clubbing, but I hate that kind of music they play there. It's really annoying. It seems like it'd be a drag. That, and the girl that invited me already has a boyfriend so there's not much there. I was invited to go out and smoke weed, but I don't smoke at all so I had to decline that. Instead I went out to this small little coffee shop to an open mic night.
I ran into a friend that I haven't seen in years because he moved over to Japan to study there for a bit. We were both there for similar reasons, watch some local talent and try our hands at standup. He was pretty funny, I enjoyed his humor. Thanks to the feedback from all of you here, I went and decided to try out some of the things I have written here. It went over well and I want to thank you all for keeping up with my ramblings.
On Sunday, I got 'kidnapped' by this one girl who recently broke up with her boyfriend, comforted her with a couple of other friends. After that, I hung out with my friend and went to his monthly zombie awareness meeting. It was fun to chill with a bunch of nerds like me. They're a charitable group who in addition to messing around, are trying to set up a blood drive and a charity event for the victims of the crazy ass tornadoes.
After that, it was more working out for me. It was just a twenty minute long stretch of cardio, we didn't have any time for anything else.
I went back home, another friend came over, we watched some TV, found out Osama had been killed [insert obligatory Pro-American rally cry here] and soon went to bed.
That was my weekend in a nutshell, sorry I haven't been able to update like I've wanted to.
Now, I want to know more about my readers. It always seems one sided. When I read all of your blogs, it's usually about one interest of yours and that's it. Some of you do electronic reviews, some of you sports things, others internet things, but it's not really who you are. I wanna know more about you. Please, tell me more.
Thanks for the support as always!
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