I haven't cried. Indian Girl has moved away and I haven't cried. She cried. Machu Pichu cried. I still haven't cried. Weird. And I don't know why.
I've been feeling drained this last week. Sure as shit, life has been giving me the roller coaster. MP said a good cry would do wonders, but what can you do if you can't cry? I guess normally that is when you would turn to a good friend. Ironically, the good friend leaving is causing some depression that would require a good friend. Damn catch 22.
Indian Girl was a major catalyst in my life. I guess the fact that she knew she would only be here for 3 months made her take full advantage of every minute. To an outsider, it would have looked like she was burning the candle at both ends. However, I think she just compressed into 3 months what some people take 3 years to experience.
Adventuring, exploring, beaches, swimming, snorkeling, hiking, dining, making friends, meeting people, volunteering, playing, doggies, dancing, drinking, partying, relaxing, walking, jogging, romancing, and having sex. That's the kind of stuff IG did. But she didn't do it all herself. She took MP and me along for the ride. And I think I got to experience more in three months than I did in three years.
So today I've been depressed. The sad thing for me is that I'm not the type to go out and share my problems with anyone. Normally IG and MP would pick up that I'm not in a right state of mind, and would offer to talk, cheer me up, or just give me a hug. Stupid catch 22 though. IG isn't here, and if I see MP, it would just be a load that she doesn't need. I think I should have just screamed out, "FUCK!," in my helmet today.
Yeah, I rode my motorcycle today. I think I just wanted some time by myself. Can't get more by myself than in a helmet going 60+ mph. Then I did something I never did before. When I got to the canyon lookout, I got a soda, sat under a tree, and listened to Hallelujah on my mp3 player. Did I feel better? I really don't know. It did make me want to write though. So now I'm writing.
This morning I watched City of Angels again. It's about an angel who becomes human to experience everything human, including love. Then his love dies shortly after they get together. The angel was wracked with depression until another angel asked that if he knew this would happen, would he have become human. He then realizes that even though he was hurting now, what he experienced was worth the world to him, and he was able to begin healing.
So even though it feels like I have a big, empty hole in my heart, that's just an illusion. It's a false pain that will pass. Because the truth is that meeting IG has stuffed my heart with so many good things, my heart is now bigger. And the empty feeling is not really emptiness. It's just my heart waiting to accept more.
And pass me the low-sodium shoyu.
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friendship. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
The Last Supper
***Indian Girl is moving away!***
I met Indian Girl on December 28 or 29. One of those days. She had just moved to the island and was looking for friends to show her around. You see, she has the kind of job that takes her to strange places where she gets really physical with clients, and sometimes even have them naked. So she was going to be here for 3 months and wanted to enjoy herself.
At first I was shy. A bit quiet. But later I started opening up, and we started hitting it off like gangbusters. In fact, we liked each other so much, that we have one of those high school girl-like pacts. If she's not married by 40, I have to inseminate her. Now whether it will be through direct injection or a turkey baster is still up for negotiations.
I've been practically all over the entire island with IG. Tons of beaches, all the tourist spots, several hiking trails, etc. We've also been to many restaurants, to the detriment of my wallet. We're pretty much close enough that we know about each other's sex lives. Heck, she knows, from my experience, not to point a man's loaded weapon at his own face. Dangerous.
But now she's leaving at the end of the month. Machu Pichu and I have been telling her to come back on a new contract. IG has been telling us to go visit her... but I think she's going to end up in Hicksville, Shithole. I think an Asian guy like me would stick out worse than a skinhead in a synagogue.
As part of the events leading up to her departure, IG, Machu Pichu, and I, planned to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. IG was going to get ready at MP's place after work, and I was going to meet them there at 4:30 PM.
At 4:00, I was out of the shower, clean shaven (top and bottom, haha. Don't ask.), and getting dressed, when my phone rings. It was MP on IG's phone. "Hey, we need you to pick up some alcohol on your way over."
I got to the grocery store's booze section and I called MP back. "I'm looking for the Boone's Farm, but I can't find it." MP had me searching high and low, not because she's a control freak, but because I suck at wine selection. I had to read the labels of hundreds of bottles. She ignored me, then randomly chose some brand she heard of. At the checkout, the cashier made the guy in front of me donate to Muscular Dystrophy. When it was my turn, she tried to give me the money. WTF?
I got to MP's place and I found 2 tipsy women. MP poured me a glass of wine in a huge glass meant for lushes. I then had to stand in the bathroom while IG and MP applied makeup. I felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I did get to witness a makeup accident that turned MP in to a reverse blackface. Luckily she got it sorted out without taking another shower, which would have taken another hour.
"Just rub it off with a dry towel," IG suggested, "I do it all the time."
"You mean the towel I used to wipe off my naked body last time I was here," I asked.
"EEEEWWWWWWW!"
Yeah, thanks. I get that reaction a lot when women think of my naked body.
So while the girls got ready, and continued boozing (I stopped due to headaches), we just chatted like little girls. We talked about the usual things. You know. Sex, clothes, jobs, that kind of stuff. The two girls were also lamenting the fact that since they got to know each other, they've been gaining weight. They sure as shit did not like it when I explained that since meeting IG, my waist has gone from a 34 to a 31, and my shirt size went from L/XL to M/L. They did say that I better not get too skinny lest I end up looking like Riley. They also said that Riley is kinda cute, but needs to get some kind of personality, and needs to grow a pair so he can actually converse during dinner. I just got my dog's balls removed, so I guess he can have those. They were shocked when I explained that Riley rarely shuts up when he's out with the guys.
"I bet they not going bring my Pepsi. They always forget my Pepsi. You see that? The guy didn't even write it down. They going forget it. I never get my Pepsi," said Riley all through an hour long lunch ad nauseam.
Since I was the one who drank the least, I got chosen as the driver. It was like a scene out of Animal House. We all piled into my Yaris (chicks dig fuel efficiency). I swear I could hear some crazy frat boys yelling, "to the Food King!"
We got to the BeachHouse. It's a restaurant right on the beach in the Poipu area. Decent food with nice atmosphere and an incredible view of the sunset. Since MP was a concierge, she was really on the ball and FAILED TO MAKE RESERVATIONS. But no problem. We got there just a few minutes after they opened for dinner, which means we got one of the few tables that were up for grabs. IG and MP immediately started with the alcohol. I was the tea-totler designated driver, so I had a virgin Lava Flow.
We were drinking and talking, and we took over an hour just to order our food. IG's drink tasted like vomit, so MP, of course, said something to our waitress Christina, and got IG a new drink. When our appetizers arrived, the sun was nearly setting, so we went outside and took a bunch of pictures. We beat the tourists out there since they were waiting for the sun to touch the water. So basically, we kind of looked stupid in front of people we will never see again. Isn't that fun?
Then we went in and started on our appetizers. Then the sun reached the water and we went out again. Sucks for the people by the exit. I think IG actually bumped a guy each time we went in and out.
Our dinners were not bad. My entree came with asparagus. I guess my pee smells bad now. IG had fish. She always has fish. She likes fish. But, is that fish fishy? She doesn't like fishy fish. Her fish needs to not smell fishy. It also has to be really cooked fish. She doesn't like raw fish. Raw fish is too fishy and smells too much like fish. No surprise then that she thinks I'm gross because I like to go down on women.
Dinner was followed up with desert. It was some kind of chocolate soufflé with vanilla ice cream. For some reason, the manager also gave us a chocolate peanut butter ice cream dessert thingy gratis. I think MP must have batted her eyes at the guy. We always seem to get free stuff when she's around. Speaking of free stuff, MP tried to pimp me off to the waitress. Of course, I didn't know what they were talking about at first, and when I did figure out what she was doing, it was too late. Fortunately, for the waitress, she was already married to the manager. Now MP's new plan is for us to hit the bar on the military base to find me a GI Jane.
But back to the dessert. IG and MP both had orgasms from the first bite. That put me last in the race again. Fuck. IG wanted to take one of the desserts under the table. When Christina came around to check on us, the girls were like, "could we be left alone?" "Oh God! Oh God!" "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." I, on the other hand, was just munching away. Sometimes it takes me hours to finish a meal.
After two and a half hours in the restaurant, we were ready to leave. When the valet pulled up with my car, I paid the guy and proceeded to get in. MP stood by the passenger door with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. "Um, hello? Door?"
"WTF woman? You think this was a date?"
IG cracked up then kindly opened the door for her date.
The original plan was for us to go to Tree's Lounge. However, that bar was a bit far from where we were, so we went to the jazz bar Stevenson's Library. The jazz bar is located inside the Grand Hyatt, and when we got there, I wondered out loud if my friend Lauren was working at the front desk. This would later bite me in the ass.
The bar was dead, so we just had a beer each, talked a bit, then left. As we were leaving, I was looking at the concierge. I was thinking that MP could try for a job there since she doesn't like where she's working at now. The girls thought I wanted to hit on the concierge. When I tried to explain that I wasn't going to hit on the concierge, they then thought I wanted to hit on the girl at the front desk. Sigh. Women.
Back at MP's place, we downloaded the pictures we took on IG's camera to MP's computer. Of course we were all crowded around this one tiny laptop, like girls at a slumber party, trying to see the pictures. Then we sent them to my email.
Now comes the freaky part. I ended up looking at pictures of cocks with IG and MP. It's not something guys normally do. I mean, if looking at cocks would make my lover (female. Nice try you assholes.) get off, then by all means, I'm for it. But you don't normally look at cocks with your girl friends. And it was all INDIAN GIRL'S fault! Dirty, dirty girl. She told MP about the cock pics on craigslist, so MP wanted to see them.
"See? Have you ever seen a cock that curved down like that," IG asked.
"I have. But this one doesn't look like it's curving like that. It just looks like he isn't fully hard yet," MP replied.
"I don't know. I've never seen one like that. Might be kind of weird," said IG.
"I was with a guy whose cock curved downwards like a C," MP proclaimed.
"How the hell would that work? How would you have sex," IG asked.
"Well, when we had sex normally, it would be pushing into me on the bottom-side. But if I turned around with my ass in his face, it would work better... felt pretty good too," said MP.
"WTF!? Hello? I'm still here. Awkward!," Nonwheezer said with his hands held palm up, shoulder height in the universal WTF pose.
OK, so on to the pictures. My fingers are getting tired of typing. I posted a preview of a few pictures to my nerd group before going to bed and these are the replies I got when I woke up.
Minnesota Girl: Man, Hawaii is beautiful!
Lecherous Old Man: Twin peaks everywhere.
SUX IT Guy: IG could make a good living doing pr0n, IMO.
So here they are. Captions follow the pics.
I just got lei'd! And I didn't have time to finish putting on my pants.
"My drink tastes like vomit," said IG in a cheerful manner.
I came here one time and I ordered this drink and the setting sun shone right through it. It was beautiful. Hic! I think I need another.
Guess what these are. Never leave your camera unattended when you go to the bathroom.
Nonwheezer. "Oh, he looks good in this pic." Thanks girls.
OK, stand there. Now move 6 inches forward. Turn your head to look at me. Now smile. (MP micromanaging IG)
Wait. I think I have the flash setting wrong. Let me try this... click. Oh, hey. It came out pretty cute. (Nonwheezer)
Machu Pichu, Nonwheezer, Indian Girl
IG tends to be prim and proper sometimes. I could have sworn I heard her say, "you touch my ass and I'll kill you."
Contrasted by MP, who tends to have a higher blood alcohol content.
What are you two, on a date?
I met Indian Girl on December 28 or 29. One of those days. She had just moved to the island and was looking for friends to show her around. You see, she has the kind of job that takes her to strange places where she gets really physical with clients, and sometimes even have them naked. So she was going to be here for 3 months and wanted to enjoy herself.
At first I was shy. A bit quiet. But later I started opening up, and we started hitting it off like gangbusters. In fact, we liked each other so much, that we have one of those high school girl-like pacts. If she's not married by 40, I have to inseminate her. Now whether it will be through direct injection or a turkey baster is still up for negotiations.
I've been practically all over the entire island with IG. Tons of beaches, all the tourist spots, several hiking trails, etc. We've also been to many restaurants, to the detriment of my wallet. We're pretty much close enough that we know about each other's sex lives. Heck, she knows, from my experience, not to point a man's loaded weapon at his own face. Dangerous.
But now she's leaving at the end of the month. Machu Pichu and I have been telling her to come back on a new contract. IG has been telling us to go visit her... but I think she's going to end up in Hicksville, Shithole. I think an Asian guy like me would stick out worse than a skinhead in a synagogue.
As part of the events leading up to her departure, IG, Machu Pichu, and I, planned to have dinner at a fancy restaurant. IG was going to get ready at MP's place after work, and I was going to meet them there at 4:30 PM.
At 4:00, I was out of the shower, clean shaven (top and bottom, haha. Don't ask.), and getting dressed, when my phone rings. It was MP on IG's phone. "Hey, we need you to pick up some alcohol on your way over."
I got to the grocery store's booze section and I called MP back. "I'm looking for the Boone's Farm, but I can't find it." MP had me searching high and low, not because she's a control freak, but because I suck at wine selection. I had to read the labels of hundreds of bottles. She ignored me, then randomly chose some brand she heard of. At the checkout, the cashier made the guy in front of me donate to Muscular Dystrophy. When it was my turn, she tried to give me the money. WTF?
I got to MP's place and I found 2 tipsy women. MP poured me a glass of wine in a huge glass meant for lushes. I then had to stand in the bathroom while IG and MP applied makeup. I felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I did get to witness a makeup accident that turned MP in to a reverse blackface. Luckily she got it sorted out without taking another shower, which would have taken another hour.
"Just rub it off with a dry towel," IG suggested, "I do it all the time."
"You mean the towel I used to wipe off my naked body last time I was here," I asked.
"EEEEWWWWWWW!"
Yeah, thanks. I get that reaction a lot when women think of my naked body.
So while the girls got ready, and continued boozing (I stopped due to headaches), we just chatted like little girls. We talked about the usual things. You know. Sex, clothes, jobs, that kind of stuff. The two girls were also lamenting the fact that since they got to know each other, they've been gaining weight. They sure as shit did not like it when I explained that since meeting IG, my waist has gone from a 34 to a 31, and my shirt size went from L/XL to M/L. They did say that I better not get too skinny lest I end up looking like Riley. They also said that Riley is kinda cute, but needs to get some kind of personality, and needs to grow a pair so he can actually converse during dinner. I just got my dog's balls removed, so I guess he can have those. They were shocked when I explained that Riley rarely shuts up when he's out with the guys.
"I bet they not going bring my Pepsi. They always forget my Pepsi. You see that? The guy didn't even write it down. They going forget it. I never get my Pepsi," said Riley all through an hour long lunch ad nauseam.
Since I was the one who drank the least, I got chosen as the driver. It was like a scene out of Animal House. We all piled into my Yaris (chicks dig fuel efficiency). I swear I could hear some crazy frat boys yelling, "to the Food King!"
We got to the BeachHouse. It's a restaurant right on the beach in the Poipu area. Decent food with nice atmosphere and an incredible view of the sunset. Since MP was a concierge, she was really on the ball and FAILED TO MAKE RESERVATIONS. But no problem. We got there just a few minutes after they opened for dinner, which means we got one of the few tables that were up for grabs. IG and MP immediately started with the alcohol. I was the tea-totler designated driver, so I had a virgin Lava Flow.
We were drinking and talking, and we took over an hour just to order our food. IG's drink tasted like vomit, so MP, of course, said something to our waitress Christina, and got IG a new drink. When our appetizers arrived, the sun was nearly setting, so we went outside and took a bunch of pictures. We beat the tourists out there since they were waiting for the sun to touch the water. So basically, we kind of looked stupid in front of people we will never see again. Isn't that fun?
Then we went in and started on our appetizers. Then the sun reached the water and we went out again. Sucks for the people by the exit. I think IG actually bumped a guy each time we went in and out.
Our dinners were not bad. My entree came with asparagus. I guess my pee smells bad now. IG had fish. She always has fish. She likes fish. But, is that fish fishy? She doesn't like fishy fish. Her fish needs to not smell fishy. It also has to be really cooked fish. She doesn't like raw fish. Raw fish is too fishy and smells too much like fish. No surprise then that she thinks I'm gross because I like to go down on women.
Dinner was followed up with desert. It was some kind of chocolate soufflé with vanilla ice cream. For some reason, the manager also gave us a chocolate peanut butter ice cream dessert thingy gratis. I think MP must have batted her eyes at the guy. We always seem to get free stuff when she's around. Speaking of free stuff, MP tried to pimp me off to the waitress. Of course, I didn't know what they were talking about at first, and when I did figure out what she was doing, it was too late. Fortunately, for the waitress, she was already married to the manager. Now MP's new plan is for us to hit the bar on the military base to find me a GI Jane.
But back to the dessert. IG and MP both had orgasms from the first bite. That put me last in the race again. Fuck. IG wanted to take one of the desserts under the table. When Christina came around to check on us, the girls were like, "could we be left alone?" "Oh God! Oh God!" "Don't touch me. Don't touch me." I, on the other hand, was just munching away. Sometimes it takes me hours to finish a meal.
After two and a half hours in the restaurant, we were ready to leave. When the valet pulled up with my car, I paid the guy and proceeded to get in. MP stood by the passenger door with her hands on her hips and a big smile on her face. "Um, hello? Door?"
"WTF woman? You think this was a date?"
IG cracked up then kindly opened the door for her date.
The original plan was for us to go to Tree's Lounge. However, that bar was a bit far from where we were, so we went to the jazz bar Stevenson's Library. The jazz bar is located inside the Grand Hyatt, and when we got there, I wondered out loud if my friend Lauren was working at the front desk. This would later bite me in the ass.
The bar was dead, so we just had a beer each, talked a bit, then left. As we were leaving, I was looking at the concierge. I was thinking that MP could try for a job there since she doesn't like where she's working at now. The girls thought I wanted to hit on the concierge. When I tried to explain that I wasn't going to hit on the concierge, they then thought I wanted to hit on the girl at the front desk. Sigh. Women.
Back at MP's place, we downloaded the pictures we took on IG's camera to MP's computer. Of course we were all crowded around this one tiny laptop, like girls at a slumber party, trying to see the pictures. Then we sent them to my email.
Now comes the freaky part. I ended up looking at pictures of cocks with IG and MP. It's not something guys normally do. I mean, if looking at cocks would make my lover (female. Nice try you assholes.) get off, then by all means, I'm for it. But you don't normally look at cocks with your girl friends. And it was all INDIAN GIRL'S fault! Dirty, dirty girl. She told MP about the cock pics on craigslist, so MP wanted to see them.
"See? Have you ever seen a cock that curved down like that," IG asked.
"I have. But this one doesn't look like it's curving like that. It just looks like he isn't fully hard yet," MP replied.
"I don't know. I've never seen one like that. Might be kind of weird," said IG.
"I was with a guy whose cock curved downwards like a C," MP proclaimed.
"How the hell would that work? How would you have sex," IG asked.
"Well, when we had sex normally, it would be pushing into me on the bottom-side. But if I turned around with my ass in his face, it would work better... felt pretty good too," said MP.
"WTF!? Hello? I'm still here. Awkward!," Nonwheezer said with his hands held palm up, shoulder height in the universal WTF pose.
OK, so on to the pictures. My fingers are getting tired of typing. I posted a preview of a few pictures to my nerd group before going to bed and these are the replies I got when I woke up.
Minnesota Girl: Man, Hawaii is beautiful!
Lecherous Old Man: Twin peaks everywhere.
SUX IT Guy: IG could make a good living doing pr0n, IMO.
So here they are. Captions follow the pics.
I just got lei'd! And I didn't have time to finish putting on my pants.
"My drink tastes like vomit," said IG in a cheerful manner.
I came here one time and I ordered this drink and the setting sun shone right through it. It was beautiful. Hic! I think I need another.
Guess what these are. Never leave your camera unattended when you go to the bathroom.
Nonwheezer. "Oh, he looks good in this pic." Thanks girls.
OK, stand there. Now move 6 inches forward. Turn your head to look at me. Now smile. (MP micromanaging IG)
Wait. I think I have the flash setting wrong. Let me try this... click. Oh, hey. It came out pretty cute. (Nonwheezer)
Machu Pichu, Nonwheezer, Indian Girl
IG tends to be prim and proper sometimes. I could have sworn I heard her say, "you touch my ass and I'll kill you."
Contrasted by MP, who tends to have a higher blood alcohol content.
What are you two, on a date?
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Conan, Subotai and Lane Meyer
I'm going to steal my compadre's mojo here and do some picture blogging while I tell this story. I'm doing this for my buddy because he'd never do it for himself. He's the kind of guy that is heard but rarely seen so he needs his loud mouth buddy, Sockfoot, to shove him into the spotlight.
On with the show.
I'm pretty much a nerd.
Because I'm a nerd I suffer from bad self esteem, nearsightedness and an uncontrollable compulsion to do things like play online video games. In fact the first online game I ever played was one based on Star Trek.
Actually the depth of my nerditude was sadder than that.
Anyway, now that the laughter is dieing down, I can go on with my story. While I was nerding around playing Star Trek I met this other guy. For purposes of identification we'll call him Lane Meyer. You know, John Cusak's character from "Better Off Dead".
In fact the similarities of this guy to Lane Meyer are striking. He's got a car he's not too keen on,
and he wishes he had another one.
He's constantly being hounded by kids,
he's mostly surrounded by strange people,
and he wishes some French chick would come along and teach him the international language of love.
In fact I'm pretty sure that sometimes he wonders if it's all worth while.
Lane Meyer has never admitted it out loud, but I know he thinks he's a nerd too.
After a while Lane Meyer and I got to be friends. (Lane Meyer is the short one on the right with the facial hair).
While it's true we were nerds, we soon figured out that in the world of Cyberspace Gaming we were viewed as bad asses.
So we set off together on a grand adventure through many pixelated lands. This is me in Cyberspace,
(U stop laffing or imma pwnz0r ur cyber-aZZ, beOtch!1111!!!!)
And this is Lane Meyer.
Pretty bad ass, eh?
For six years we've been kicking cyber-booty together. It's been a lot of fun, but sometimes we'd take a break from wreaking cyber-havok and just talk.
One of the recuring themes in our talks was how Lane Meyer seemed to get no action with the ladies.
You see Lane Meyer is constantly surrounded by hot asian chicks.
This might have something to do with the fact that he lives in Paradise.
Well, I don't know if it's exactly Paradise, but the sun shines a lot, it's warm and wet and there are lots of scantily clad women, so if it isn't Paradise it's got to be pretty close.
Ummm ... sorry I lost my train of thought there.
Oh yeah, Lane Meyer is always pretty bummed because he's convinced to an absolute certainty that women, especially hot women, don't notice him at all.
Lately it's really got him singing the blues.
I've tried to talk to Lane Meyer about this problem. I've given him a lot of advice and tried to bolster his confidence in himself,
but for some reason he doesn't seem to hear it.
Truthfully sometimes I think he enjoys suffering,
but he's my buddy so I've got to keep trying to help him.
However this time, instead of trying to straighten him out,
I'm going to try talking directly to the ladies instead.
Ladies, I think Lane Meyer sells himself very short in the looks department, but according to Lane Meyer he looks like this ...
but even if that's the case, which I don't believe, I want you to look past that. Instead I want you to know that my buddy Lane Meyer works a job that doesn't pay him what he's worth,
but he works hard at it because he knows it's an important job.
He's also scary smart,
he's got a college education and a great sense of humor,
he rides a motorcycle,
he views the world in a very unique way,
and he is noble, loyal and trustworthy.
So to all of you hot chicks out there (you know who you are) ...
I want you to take a good long look at Lane Meyer. Really spend some time studying him.
A good way to get to know him is read what he's written here. Maybe he's not exactly built like a greek god,
but I think when you peel away the layers of self depricating humor and knee jerk self preservation mechanisms you'll find something much more rare and worth while.
Very truly yours, Nonwheezer's ... I mean ... Lane Meyer's weirdo friend,
Sockfoot
On with the show.
I'm pretty much a nerd.
Because I'm a nerd I suffer from bad self esteem, nearsightedness and an uncontrollable compulsion to do things like play online video games. In fact the first online game I ever played was one based on Star Trek.
Actually the depth of my nerditude was sadder than that.
Anyway, now that the laughter is dieing down, I can go on with my story. While I was nerding around playing Star Trek I met this other guy. For purposes of identification we'll call him Lane Meyer. You know, John Cusak's character from "Better Off Dead".
In fact the similarities of this guy to Lane Meyer are striking. He's got a car he's not too keen on,
and he wishes he had another one.
He's constantly being hounded by kids,
he's mostly surrounded by strange people,
and he wishes some French chick would come along and teach him the international language of love.
In fact I'm pretty sure that sometimes he wonders if it's all worth while.
Lane Meyer has never admitted it out loud, but I know he thinks he's a nerd too.
After a while Lane Meyer and I got to be friends. (Lane Meyer is the short one on the right with the facial hair).
While it's true we were nerds, we soon figured out that in the world of Cyberspace Gaming we were viewed as bad asses.
So we set off together on a grand adventure through many pixelated lands. This is me in Cyberspace,
(U stop laffing or imma pwnz0r ur cyber-aZZ, beOtch!1111!!!!)
And this is Lane Meyer.
Pretty bad ass, eh?
For six years we've been kicking cyber-booty together. It's been a lot of fun, but sometimes we'd take a break from wreaking cyber-havok and just talk.
One of the recuring themes in our talks was how Lane Meyer seemed to get no action with the ladies.
You see Lane Meyer is constantly surrounded by hot asian chicks.
This might have something to do with the fact that he lives in Paradise.
Well, I don't know if it's exactly Paradise, but the sun shines a lot, it's warm and wet and there are lots of scantily clad women, so if it isn't Paradise it's got to be pretty close.
Ummm ... sorry I lost my train of thought there.
Oh yeah, Lane Meyer is always pretty bummed because he's convinced to an absolute certainty that women, especially hot women, don't notice him at all.
Lately it's really got him singing the blues.
I've tried to talk to Lane Meyer about this problem. I've given him a lot of advice and tried to bolster his confidence in himself,
but for some reason he doesn't seem to hear it.
Truthfully sometimes I think he enjoys suffering,
but he's my buddy so I've got to keep trying to help him.
However this time, instead of trying to straighten him out,
I'm going to try talking directly to the ladies instead.
Ladies, I think Lane Meyer sells himself very short in the looks department, but according to Lane Meyer he looks like this ...
but even if that's the case, which I don't believe, I want you to look past that. Instead I want you to know that my buddy Lane Meyer works a job that doesn't pay him what he's worth,
but he works hard at it because he knows it's an important job.
He's also scary smart,
he's got a college education and a great sense of humor,
he rides a motorcycle,
he views the world in a very unique way,
and he is noble, loyal and trustworthy.
So to all of you hot chicks out there (you know who you are) ...
I want you to take a good long look at Lane Meyer. Really spend some time studying him.
A good way to get to know him is read what he's written here. Maybe he's not exactly built like a greek god,
but I think when you peel away the layers of self depricating humor and knee jerk self preservation mechanisms you'll find something much more rare and worth while.
Very truly yours, Nonwheezer's ... I mean ... Lane Meyer's weirdo friend,
Sockfoot
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