He's Making a List; Checking it Twice

I've been had. Yup. I've been hornswaggled. I can't believe it took me this long to figure out the conspiracy.

For a long time now I've been getting down on myself. This usually happens when I'm lonely. I try to figure out a reason why my luck with the fairer (though more devious) sex really sucks and I start to nitpick on all my shortcomings. Then usually someone comes over and blows air up my ass. They give me a bunch of false compliments to boost my morale. Of course, I'm so starved for attention, I buy everything hook, line, and sinker.

How bad can my love life be? I asked a girl out once and she turned into a lesbian.

Now someone of my superior intellect can only be duped for so long. (15 years) I was bound to figure it all out. I happened upon an article on building self esteem on athealth.com. There was a suggestion in the article to make a list of your positive attributes and stuff. So I spent a few hours going over the things I possess that could be a positive with the vaginal sex. It wasn't a long list.

OK, here is the list. I removed anything not uncommon. The list should consist of things almost-sort-of-kinda unique to me. Therefore, ten fingers, ten toes was removed.

1: I have broadband. YouTube and porn at light speeds.



2: I own a sports camcorder. It's a nifty video camera that fits in your pocket.



C: I own an economy sportbike. Yeah, it's not the top model, but most girls are too stupid to know that.



D: I have an external DVD burner that lets me transfer a bunch of computer videos onto disk. It comes in handy for watching Jdramas.



V: I have a job. A real job that requires college degrees and special licenses. I don't make much money though, so any future brides cannot be whores.



VV: I own a Yaris. Hopefully the same dumb chicks that think SVs are cool will not notice how cheap I am.



X: I own a pair of black leather jeans. They're a motorcycle type of jeans, but they almost got me a callback for the part of the biker guy in a 70's boy band.



Twelvely: I have a ton of DVDs. I have US, Japan, Hong Kong, and Korean releases. I also have the player to play them.



Thirteenish: I have Love Actually and Flash Gordon on VHS.



One Million Dollars: I own a dress. It was for Halloween, I swear. I've never used it to go to the nightclub on a Friday night in order to try and pick up guys so drunk they would have sex with anything. Promise.



12345: I also have a kung fu outfit. My secret kung fu identity is Sum Dum Gai.



3.14159: I have a trumpet. I don't mean to blow my own horn, but I used to be pretty not bad with it in high school. But back then, I was still cute enough to get girlfriends, and I didn't need a trumpet. Or a list. Stupid list.



24/7: I have scars. Not just the wonderful acne scars to remind me of my bad skin, but also battle scars. I have a scar from a gash I received while playing sword fighting when I was a kid. I also have scars on my elbows because I suck at riding bikes. There's also a big one on my knee from a tumor I once had. Even the tumor couldn't stand to be with me and left.



525,600: Helmet ears. Um. Yeah. Ears.



And that's my list. Impressive, eh?

Now looking over this list, I can see for a fact that those compliments people gave me were nothing but lies. Nothing on this list will get me some play except for the broadband. Chicks dig high download speeds. I think I will sue my so-called "friends," for infamation of character. Like that? I made that up. Instead of maliciously destroying my reputation, they've been maliciously trying to bolster it. Those jerks.

Sigh. I hate athealth.com. The list thing really backfired. I'm not feeling much self esteemed at the moment.

You know what? Screw the list. Screw possessions. I will win the heart of a lady with my charm and good looks. Any women interested? Here's my pic:

Three Wishes in the Saddle

For the last few days I had no inclination to write. It's not that I didn't have ideas. I had a few nice topics come to mind. I just didn't feel like sharing. A friend said that I put a lot of myself into my writing. That is true. And that is the reason why I didn't want to write. I didn't want anyone knowing what I was thinking.

During this brief hiatus, I ran into an old, or perhaps former, friend. He's a faster sportbike rider than I am, but I haven't seen him much since he found a new girlfriend. He tends to ctrl-alt-del his whole relationship-tree whenever he changes women. I ended up spending the whole afternoon riding with him. It wasn't too bad since we stuck to neutral topics like cars and motorcycles. It did remind me of a great lesson in history.

Allies can be your future enemies and enemies your future allies.

Perhaps it's time for me to end my inner tantrum and start expressing myself how I enjoy. Oh, and to my future enemies: Fuck off! hahahaha!



I'm sure you've been asked many times what you would do with three wishes. I always ponder about three wishes. Basically, those of us who harbor envy and greed will always hope for those wishes. Oh boy do I envy.

Let's see if I can guess the usual holier-than-thou type answer most people would give. I bet they would wish for world peace.



To end hunger.



And to cure some horrible plague.



Holy shit! If I used my wishes like that, I better be crowned Miss USA and get lesbian smooches from Miss Teen USA. Talk about altruistic. Noah would have to move to the couch away from Johnny for my interview.

Back to the real world. Remembering that only those who envy actually wish for wishes, my real choices would be slightly less noble.

First off, I would wish for a superhero-like physique. I would want the agility and dexterity of Spider-man with the health and durability of Superman.



Why? So I can actually do the things that I want without hurting this trollish body. I would love to be able to control motor vehicles with the skill and accuracy of top racers.



Also, I would love to be able to ride my stupid mountain bike without crashing 50% of the time. Strawberries hurt.



My second wish would be to have good looks. Good looking people don't know how lucky they are. They're at the top of the pyramid. Trolls are at the bottom, slightly higher than kobolds and teletubbies. I would just love to be at the top of the pile when I want to shit on someone.



My final wish would be for a freakishly large penis.

Size doesn't matter? The only women who tell you that are the ones who won't have sex with you. Doesn't matter to them since they're not the ones who will have to fake it.



Truth though, if you thought the amount of breast implants being done annually was high, wait until someone develops penis enlargement. It's not about being able to perform. It's about confidence. If you walked around with a 12 inch johnson, you would be beaming with confidence. No matter what happens or what anyone says to you, you wouldn't be phased a bit. That's because deep down you would be thinking, "screw you little man. I'm hung like a walrus."

So I may not be noble. I may not be unselfish. I am definitely not altruistic. But I am honest and bold. How's that for a rebound back into writing? Eat me!



*done before 2007 yes!*
**Hawaii Standard Time, mind**