Inevitability. Laundry List. Disconnection.
So I've consigned myself to a single inevitable fact of the Universe: I will never, ever do anything academically productive on a weekend. Ever. Ever. Ever.
Things I did instead of schoolwork:
1) Saabir's birthday. I stopped by. Shot some Jack. Fake-smoked some Vanilla cigarettes and felt girly. Had my penis grabbed at by some guy named Anthony and felt less girly by comparison. (And yet, of the two of us I'm the one without a girlfriend. The Good Lord is one ironic motherfucker.) Left an album on someone's computer desktop so he'd listen to it when he sobered up (I am hereby the MP3 Fairy). Was quizzed on my ability to drive home by reciting the squares from one through ten. i.e. One squared is one. Two squared is four. Three squared is nine. Etc. I passed. Then started feeling genuinely intoxicated as soon as I got through my door and into my bed. High five for good timing.
1) Started a gang with Annie. Art and Crafts (NO IT'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE RECORD LABEL... unless it is...) fo lyfe, beeyatch.
1a) Started a gang rivalry with Annie. Her Adidas shittery is wack-ass Track and Field, yo.
1b) Learned the standard operating procedure of dealing with Canadians: spit in their fucking faces. Either Kathy or Annie (Give me a break, they're both Asian. How am I supposed to tell them apart?) favored me with that little gem.
2) Went to the LA Zoo and had my wallet brutally raped. Bearing in mind my ancestry, wherein money = everything, it was the equivalent of being paralyzed from the waist down. 3.25 for a 20oz bottle of Aquafina? It's times like these I really wish the Ruskies had cauterized this infectious blister of a free-market economy from the face of the Earth with a salvo of thermonuclear bleach. (Attn Government Filters, CC to Donald Rumsfeld: JUST KIDDING. I OWN AN AMERICAN FLAG.)
3) Assisted my father in achieving the Chinese Ideal: The Three-Generation Family. Had dinner for his momentous day of birth with my grandparents at their place in San Gabriel. AKA China 2.0: You Can Drink The Water Without Cholera Here!
3a) Met up with Kathy and Megan (I actually re-ordered the names for the sake of alphabetization. Why am I so fucking cool?) for Operation Second Dinner 2005. Bacali Cafe ("Bacarri Caw-Fay") on Valley Blvd. ("Varree Boo-ree-vahrr") confuses me more than the way I feel when I look at pictures of David Hasselhoff in his Baywatch days (he make my pee-pee tingle funny). The food is fucking good. But so... much chinky... people. So much... chinky.
3b) Finally picked up some of that Chinese BBQ Sauce (fake pinyin: Sa-tza jyang) from 99 Ranch. There will be much delicious fried rice in my near future. Yours too, if I like you enough.
4) Chipotle with the CEC crew. Their guacamole is like Creamed Jesus Christ. On a transubstantiated sacramental wafer. It's worth the blasphemy. Seriously.
5) Complete emotional withdrawal. Head has been in the clouds all day today. Don't know what's going on. Everyone asks me if I'm sad. Don't know how to answer that. ("Omitting first-person pronouns? That must be genuinely sincere!" quips the annoying asshole in the back of my skull.)
6) Dominated the ever-loving shit out of Diana, Kathy, and Megan (alphabetized again) in Trivial Pursuit with Jason. Boys versus Girls? Sorry, looks like the Penis flag flies high tonight. Vagina is back in ignominious suppression.
7) Received spam e-mail from the name "Cunnilingus A. Stumpier."
7a) Cried because spam-mailer bots-- the effective unwashed buttcrack of the internet-- are so much more clever than I will ever be. That is the greatest fucking union of words that I have ever read in my life. Don't understand? "Man I could go for some stumpy cunnilingus right about now." If you still don't understand, you are a humorless machine. You'd get along famously with my father. ("Happy birthday, Tien-Hsin Chao! Your son is taking potshots at you behind your back!" I earnestly pray to God that I never have a son like me.)
That about covers the major points, whether feigned, forced, or genuine. And since we're blogging here, we'll keep the real thoughts obfuscated because They will read it. And I really can't let that happen because I am, after all, the same awkward boy I've always been.
Warmest regards from up here in the clouds. I'll find a way down soon enough.
-Eric
P.S. Ever the forgetful one. Delicious musical treats for you to delight in. Maybe even shake your booty to.
Things I did instead of schoolwork:
1) Saabir's birthday. I stopped by. Shot some Jack. Fake-smoked some Vanilla cigarettes and felt girly. Had my penis grabbed at by some guy named Anthony and felt less girly by comparison. (And yet, of the two of us I'm the one without a girlfriend. The Good Lord is one ironic motherfucker.) Left an album on someone's computer desktop so he'd listen to it when he sobered up (I am hereby the MP3 Fairy). Was quizzed on my ability to drive home by reciting the squares from one through ten. i.e. One squared is one. Two squared is four. Three squared is nine. Etc. I passed. Then started feeling genuinely intoxicated as soon as I got through my door and into my bed. High five for good timing.
1) Started a gang with Annie. Art and Crafts (NO IT'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE RECORD LABEL... unless it is...) fo lyfe, beeyatch.
1a) Started a gang rivalry with Annie. Her Adidas shittery is wack-ass Track and Field, yo.
1b) Learned the standard operating procedure of dealing with Canadians: spit in their fucking faces. Either Kathy or Annie (Give me a break, they're both Asian. How am I supposed to tell them apart?) favored me with that little gem.
2) Went to the LA Zoo and had my wallet brutally raped. Bearing in mind my ancestry, wherein money = everything, it was the equivalent of being paralyzed from the waist down. 3.25 for a 20oz bottle of Aquafina? It's times like these I really wish the Ruskies had cauterized this infectious blister of a free-market economy from the face of the Earth with a salvo of thermonuclear bleach. (Attn Government Filters, CC to Donald Rumsfeld: JUST KIDDING. I OWN AN AMERICAN FLAG.)
3) Assisted my father in achieving the Chinese Ideal: The Three-Generation Family. Had dinner for his momentous day of birth with my grandparents at their place in San Gabriel. AKA China 2.0: You Can Drink The Water Without Cholera Here!
3a) Met up with Kathy and Megan (I actually re-ordered the names for the sake of alphabetization. Why am I so fucking cool?) for Operation Second Dinner 2005. Bacali Cafe ("Bacarri Caw-Fay") on Valley Blvd. ("Varree Boo-ree-vahrr") confuses me more than the way I feel when I look at pictures of David Hasselhoff in his Baywatch days (he make my pee-pee tingle funny). The food is fucking good. But so... much chinky... people. So much... chinky.
3b) Finally picked up some of that Chinese BBQ Sauce (fake pinyin: Sa-tza jyang) from 99 Ranch. There will be much delicious fried rice in my near future. Yours too, if I like you enough.
4) Chipotle with the CEC crew. Their guacamole is like Creamed Jesus Christ. On a transubstantiated sacramental wafer. It's worth the blasphemy. Seriously.
5) Complete emotional withdrawal. Head has been in the clouds all day today. Don't know what's going on. Everyone asks me if I'm sad. Don't know how to answer that. ("Omitting first-person pronouns? That must be genuinely sincere!" quips the annoying asshole in the back of my skull.)
6) Dominated the ever-loving shit out of Diana, Kathy, and Megan (alphabetized again) in Trivial Pursuit with Jason. Boys versus Girls? Sorry, looks like the Penis flag flies high tonight. Vagina is back in ignominious suppression.
7) Received spam e-mail from the name "Cunnilingus A. Stumpier."
7a) Cried because spam-mailer bots-- the effective unwashed buttcrack of the internet-- are so much more clever than I will ever be. That is the greatest fucking union of words that I have ever read in my life. Don't understand? "Man I could go for some stumpy cunnilingus right about now." If you still don't understand, you are a humorless machine. You'd get along famously with my father. ("Happy birthday, Tien-Hsin Chao! Your son is taking potshots at you behind your back!" I earnestly pray to God that I never have a son like me.)
That about covers the major points, whether feigned, forced, or genuine. And since we're blogging here, we'll keep the real thoughts obfuscated because They will read it. And I really can't let that happen because I am, after all, the same awkward boy I've always been.
Warmest regards from up here in the clouds. I'll find a way down soon enough.
-Eric
P.S. Ever the forgetful one. Delicious musical treats for you to delight in. Maybe even shake your booty to.
posted by Unknown at 2:42 AM
6 Comments:
i am forever awed by your forever mad skillz.
Dance off
5/17/05 RJD2 show
Track and Field vs. Arts and Crafts
BRING IT.
Really, I thought the "awkward boy" thing was my schtick (as, I think, them hollywood-type Yiddish-speakers would call it). You steal from me for the last time, Chao.
-->ravi
you made me laugh out loud inside the geology library.
i love you and the you inside.
you shouldn't dog on anthony. he's a swell guy.
oh stop it. you're not awkward.
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