A Night in the City

My friend insisted I go out with him tonight and he was willing to pay for my expenses so I went out. I’m still a bum (too lazy to write a decent story about it) but I wrote 2 facebook statuses that sum up some of the things that happened tonight. It also seems I may have found a guest for my impending podcast to tell his crazy stories about going out. I have relatives living in the house at the moment but once they leave in 2 weeks, I will begin to attempt making my podcast. Look forward to it. Anyway, here are my self-quotes:


I was told that I was in the presence of Sarah Connor from Terminator. Whether or not it was her, the woman I was observing kissed her very flaming gay friend. Random…

We went to get some schrama. A friend dropped some fries on the counter. I went back to pick it up and eat it. The lady behind the counter saw. She laughed. She gave me some free fries. Laugh all you want but free fries is a win in my books.

Candy Crush Saga; Soul Crushing Saga

It’s not just Candy Crush; all match 3 games are soul crushing. Let me first go on the record and state that I play a lot of match 3 games but that doesn’t make it any less soul crushing. Part of me likes these games but a greater part of me hates myself for liking it. I’ve probably spent hundreds of hours on this game already and yet I see a lot of my facebook friends played the game a lot more than me. That’s a lot of wasted time. It’s not exactly a satisfying game to play but it’s just the perfect level of mindlessness that you can you play while exerting a minimal amount of brain juices. I usually feel miserable when I play these games because it means I’m being lazy and unmotivated. I feel like a loser every time I play it but that’s fine because I’ve already openly admitted to giving up on life.


I see so many people playing candy crush a lot. It’s a very sad sight. Do all these people constantly feel so unmotivated and lazy? Or maybe they actually actively enjoy the game which might be even sadder. I was going to include a pre-emptive apology here but I won’t be doing that because I’m not really sorry. The only thing I would be sorry for is that life sucks and people who’re (whore, lol) offended by this must have a lot of crap in their lives that they haven’t accepted yet.


Nothing Learned

Fuck… I just woke up at 4am from a weird dream. Last night, in real life, my mom was being her usual kind-of-bitchy self and then in my dream, she hit her head and became dumber and slower. You can actually see her take a couple seconds to think and process every time she enters a room. In real life, she’s loud and dumb but in the dream, she became quiet after she hit her head and I actually felt really bad for her and gave her a hug. Then I woke up and my throat burns. I think I threw up a little during my sleep, that’s the kind of burn it feels like. When writing this, it almost a sounds like I threw up at the thought of caring for my mom.

I took a moment and thought about whether I should feel bad for the normal way I crappily treat my mom and decided that I have no need to change my behaviour because there’s no other way to react to her current bitchiness. At least now I know that I will actually care for my mom and my life will improve if she hits her head and becomes stupider.

…I don’t have time to finish this short blog before she just walked down the stairs and bitched at me again. You know what she’s bitching about? The fact that I’m awake, even though I’m supposed to drive her to work… Doesn’t make sense? Welcome to my world. This momentous dream feels like it completely changed the cynical way I’ve been thinking of my mom, but it doesn’t change anything. Nothing learned. Nothing to learn…

To Bone-Her or Not To Boner

This entire entry is written by my friend, including the title. The only thing I’m writing is this bolded text which isn’t even needed so I should stop.


Being in the sexual rut that I have been in (since birth!), I have been open to new ideas. A friend of mine recently suggested a house not too far from where I live that hosts orgies and swinger parties with women willing to fulfill my sexual fantasies. The catch? All the women would be old enough to be my grandmother. However, I couldn’t toss up the opportunity to experience an experienced woman, could I? I have not had the most success in the bedroom up until this point, but when imagining one of these older women, I thought her experience would outweigh her looks. But when I got to the place, I realized her weight outweighed everything else. Hard, cold reality smacked me full in the kisser! This is a story gone very wrong, very quickly, I might add.…

So I arrived at the destination (the only arriving I was gonna do that day, apparently). I knocked on the door. Out walked a fat, old, ugly broad, worse than anything I ever imagined, and I made sure to try and visualize the worst possible looking woman beforehand. As I mentioned before, my reasoning for doing this in the first place was for the experience and for experience itself. I paid 40 bucks for a membership fee (or member fee) and 30 bucks to go to that specific event. A total of 70 smackers, allowed me to stay there the whole day, if I so desired. It turned out it was a complete waste of money considering that I was in the vicinity of the house for no more than 25 minutes, and 15 of those minutes were spent just talking with the “host.” She then proceeded to give me a whore – I mean, tour – of the house. She had a spread of snacks set up on her dinner table ranging from jelly beans, chips, chocolate and other colorful candies, not to mention a spread of her own. Of course I wouldn’t touch any of those snacks just thinking of the dirty hands that would have been in those bowls.

While showing me the second floor of the house, we passed by hundreds of family and baby pictures on the left side of the hallway, while random couples fucked in the bedrooms on the right side. She then introduced me to Ruth, an older, fatter and even uglier woman than she was. If she were in a beauty contest with only three contestants, she’d come fourth! She eyed me hungrily, and said in her Wicked Witch of the West voice, “Mmm, fresh meat, hit me up later” and then winked at me, but with both eyes, which I found strange. I nearly gagged at the thought of having this 300lb woman on top of me. I was told that the house runs specific events like “Interracial Night Fridays.” I also somehow managed to hear rumors in the 15 minutes that I walked between those walls that Ruth had a thing for black guys. I had to imagine that her vagina was like a football field: 100 yards in length and that a lot of black guys must have sprained their ankles on it. Anyway, as I mentioned, I was in the house no longer than 25 minutes, and 15 of those minutes were spent in introductions. Now to get to the not-so-juicy details of the remaining 10 minutes….

So there I was after the tour, standing awkwardly alone. The host came up to me and told me that she wasn’t fucking today because she just had a colon checkup the previous week…. I started thinking to myself, “I understand the kind of house you are running here, but don’t the rules of meeting someone for the first time and keeping the condition of your colon out of conversation mean anything to you?” She then pointed at the youngest woman in the place, and said, “Ask her if she wants to play.” Note that I was pretty nervous from the moment I set foot in the house, but not nearly as much as when I realized I had to woo a woman twice my age. (And even then I was getting off – no pun intended – lightly, because most of the beauties were quadruple my age!) I eventually grabbed her hand and asked her, “Do you want to play?” She chuckled and said, “Well, yes I do!” Don’t get me wrong, although this one was the youngest, she still didn’t fit on any scale I ever conjured up in my mind. However, she really wasn’t that bad for an older broad. (Let’s not forget how desperate I was – and still am!) She asked me if I’d ever done this sort of thing before (“Do you come here often?”). Then she told me not to be nervous and to just try to enjoy myself. I was feeling a bit more confident at this point, but then she raised the question (not my dick), “Are you comfortable fucking or being naked in front of people?” In my head, my first thought was that I’m hardly comfortable fucking or being naked in front of one girl, but to pass myself off as seeming calm, cool and collected, I answered, “I guess we’ll find out today.”

We got in the room and had about a minute of small talk, and then she started to kiss me…. I wasn’t expecting it. I thought the rules of this “social” situation indicated we would be purely fucking, but then I understand that there still needs to be some kind of foreplay (even if it meant playing Bingo with her). Kissing a 50 year old broad wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it was the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life, thus far. I had trouble taking off her bra. (It seems that’s always going to be an ongoing problem for me.) She pretty much took off all her clothes and then proceeded to take off all mine. She pushed me on the bed and started giving me head – and I’m not talking cerebral here. Now in my mind, I know I’m self-conscious every second of these encounters, so I actually lifted my head to see if I was hard – to my surprise, I was! So I actually “enjoyed” the next 5 minutes. I’ll be honest, I don’t enjoy BJ’s usually. Of my experiences, she was the first one that seemed to know what she was doing, and yet I still didn’t enjoy it. Sometimes I feel like my dick doesn’t give a fuck unless I’m the one touching it, because it’s more relaxed and comfortable with me. Anyway, at this point, she grabbed a condom package from the desk behind her. I then asked her to open it and put it on me to avoid any embarrassing moves on my part. But she wanted me to open it, so I took it, and said, “You gotta open it like a bag of chips” while tearing the wrapper. One conclusion I can make by now in my life is that condoms absolutely kill the mood for me. The second I put it on, or more like after 45 seconds of trying to put it on, I am no longer hard. And now by this point, I found it impossible to get hard again! She got on top of me, used her hands to try to get me hard again, but it just didn’t work. Now let me get to the worst part of all….

I can blame the condom, which I seem to have so much trouble putting on all the time. I can also blame the bad smell that seemed to fill every room and hallway in that house. If I wanted to, I could even blame Ruth’s saggy, crusty, pimpled ass that I saw as she walked up the stairs in front of me.  But, what I think really fucked it up for me was the fact that another naked man walked into the bedroom and then sat right beside me on the bed. Now, I know the woman warned me about this before. Apparently their policy is that you can’t close the door for security reasons. You’re allowed to ask for private time, but everyone is still allowed to watch. Talk about an “open door policy!” She moved her hand over and started to give him a handjob while still on top of me. I’m telling you – I’ve never seen my dick shrink so fast. The speed of light! At one point, I remember her looking down in a surprised manner, probably to check to see if my dick was even still there. She whispered to me, “You can ask him to get out of the room if you want private time.” So I quietly yelled: “GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!” I’m kidding of course. At this point I just wanted out of the house – period! But, I thought I’d give it a shot. So I asked him to leave and he left, but only outside the door to watch, with the other 2 guys already standing there…. So now I had 3 guys watching me “try” to fuck this lady with the limpest dick they’d ever seen – and for that matter, I’d ever seen! Maybe if I wasn’t constantly seeing their faces out of the corner of my eye, it might not have been so bad. She started kissing me again, probably thinking it would get me hard like it was 5 minutes before, but it just didn’t work. I figured it was hopeless at this point. She noticed, and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” I was thinking it doesn’t matter, I plan to tell everyone anyway. In fact, I’ll write about it. I’m certain she must have asked the host for a refund after experiencing me. I left the room to go to the washroom. I went in, got dressed, and considered stealing some towels to get my money’s worth. I exited the washroom and wanted to say goodbye to the old broad for the sake of good manners, but she was too busy with the other 3 guys already on top of her. I then told the host to let me get my bicycle out of her garage because I had to go. She asked me, “How was it?” I replied, “Decent.”

So after all that – coitus interruptus! – I didn’t even get the experience I set out to get. My sex-capades have been a nerve-racking experience up until now. I really should just give up the whole idea of trying to get properly laid knowing that, no matter what, it eventually leads to anxiety, to say the least. Unfortunately, I actually enjoy “the chase” part of it. If I didn’t, I could save a lot of money.

Will I ever go back? Perhaps after a night downtown of trying to pick up chicks my own age, I’ll be so drunk and desperate that I’ll remember the house that gave me a boner, and then took it away so quickly.


That’s a weird word. I’ve been pretty depressed and uninspired for a long time now and it’s weird to see people around me suffering similarly. It almost feels as though there’s an epidemic depression going around. But that’s stupid and I know it’s not true. Just coincidence.

If you can spare a moment, please help add more likes and positive comments to the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3W9UhJjLf-0  I used this guy’s songs for my previous flash games so I owe him at least this plug.

I just removed a large portion of this post and I’m too lazy to replace it with anything else. I guess the title pretty much sums up the current state of my blog and my life.

Let me try to end on a high note. My friend recently had an unfortunate visit to a whore house and wrote all about it and I’m going to post that story. It’s sad that the only high note I can find in my life is my friend’s misfortune, not that I actively wish it upon them. …The more I try to clarify I’m not actually an asshole, the more I sound like one so I’ll just stop here and let you read the story when I post it.


I haven’t been doing shit lately but I might start a podcast soon. For any new readers, I will quickly summarize that I’ve basically forsaken life and I no longer bother putting in effort to interact with people. It’s almost amazing how little I’ve done with my life in the past year. I’m living at home and by doing nothing, I risk being kicked out of the house, which I’m practically hoping for because I’m just waiting for a reason to get out of there. I have no back up plans and if I get kicked out, my only plan is just to die on the street.


I know it sounds like none of this has anything to do with podcasting but trust me, I’m bringing it back to that soon. I have a friend who’s planning to get a new place to use as an office and he might let me stay there. This is the friend who paid for me to get laid so that’s the kind of friend he is. When that happens, I plan to do several hours of podcasts a day. I’ve got nothing else going on anyway. He will essentially be sponsoring my podcast. He makes websites so listeners can help keep me and the podcast alive by using his services. I just wanted to write this blog to let people know about this potential free source of entertainment I’ll be providing. I don’t know if anyone cares. Even if no one cares, at least this can act as a shitty mission statement.

If you would like to see this podcast happen, you can help by liking and commenting in this entry. Giving my “sponsor” some numbers will help make this thing happen. Being able to show him a number in the tens would be better than showing him no numbers.

Tale of Losing My Virginity; Got Paid to Get Laid

This is a detailed account of the night (tonight) I lost my virginity. I haven’t felt like doing anything lately and haven’t been blogging either but my friend paid me to write this. I’m getting paid to write about getting laid, not for getting laid, in case there’s still misunderstanding because I purposely misled you. I still had to pay for the hooker. I actually had to pay the hooker more than I’m getting paid so I just got a discount to lose my virginity. By now, you should be aware that this isn’t a sexy story. If you must, go somewhere else to masturbate because this story is kind of a boner killer.

At around 6 pm, my friend (the one who’s paying me to write this) told me that he and his hooker-savvy friend is going out for massage and sex and asked if I was interested in coming. Given my lack of will to pursue any work or entertainment, I figured I’ll go out to get laid if my friend is driving and paying for it. I’m a cheap guy and I like to make the most of my money. If possible, I want to make the most out of the transaction, finishing as many times as I can. Apparently, the pro-whore friend told me that 30 minutes means finishing once and doesn’t actually go by the time. It’s kind of tricky because prostitution is probably illegal so you kind of have to adapt their euphemisms and can’t get clearly defined rules. I still would’ve asked and see if I can get a full 30 minutes and I would just ask them explicitly when we start because I’d already be naked by that point so there’s no need to beat around bushes anymore. I know I can historically finish quickly so I would’ve wanted to at least ask for a 5 minute warranty. The other thing is that I still kind of want to go to prison so getting caught by cops would actually have been far from the worst case scenario.

The plan for the night is as follows: first, my 2 friends want to get a regular massage, hopefully with happy endings or more, and then we visit the straight up full service place. If the first place turns out to provide full service, then they’ll let me know and I can purchase my services there as well. The first place had two decent ladies but I would’ve hoped for even better ones. We didn’t know what we were in for so only one of my friends went in first. The other guy and I went to grab some food while we waited. I’m cheap so I actually didn’t purchase any food. The friend offered me some of his fries so I ate some. This guy was actually a friend of the other friend so we didn’t know each other too well and I just filled the time with my usual depressing talks. I pretty much covered anything you would read from the blog except I was more depressing and less funny. I can’t imagined my moping was good especially on a night he’s planning to get laid. He probably felt bad and offering fries was the least he could do.

After a while, the massaged friend called to pick him up and he informed us that they offered happy endings. This piqued the interest of the other friend and he decided to go in for the service too. I didn’t go because I wanted full service. If I’m losing my virginity, I’d like to do it right, as much as money can buy, at a reasonable price. At this point, they agreed that they were still taking me to the other place after both their happy endings so I didn’t mind waiting. I’ve already waited 23 years so a couple more hours wasn’t going to hurt me.

Now I went to get food with this friend. We went to KFC and again, I didn’t buy anything. He bought a little combo meal and gave me the chicken drumstick. We mostly joked about happy endings and condoms, you know, typical dinner talk for guys. Afterwards, we went to Baskin Robins to get some ice cream. I didn’t want to pay for anything but my friend insisted to buy me some. I’ve been spending a lot of time writing about food and given that I’m most notoriously known for my shit stories, I’m going to disappoint you right now and let you know that this doesn’t lead to a nasty diarrhea sex story.

After waiting around for a while, the other friend finally finished and now we head towards the real climax of the evening. It was a disappointing climax but I used that word just for the double entendre. This new location is an apartment complex and the lobby smelled bad. The odor was made nastier because we all had cum on our minds. At this point, I wasn’t nervous or anything. I hadn’t put much thought in this whole thing since I haven’t been thinking about anything at all for the past year or so. I’m not even sure if my brain is capable of thoughts anymore since I’ve been letting it rot for so long. My friends told me that I need to follow through with this and I just said sure. I didn’t really care. As long as the girls weren’t ugly, I didn’t plan to chicken out. If I’m going to pain my cheap mind to spend money, even if it’s my friend’s money, I expect a certain quality.

When we finally got in the room, I was immediately disappointed. They weren’t terrible looking, but they were definitely less than I expected. They were definitely worse than the ones in the first locations so there was an added sense of regret. When I was in the car, I was wondering whether I’d pick a prettier face with no boobs or a lesser face with better boobs. That didn’t matter anymore because I didn’t have any options and the only 2 I could choose from were both mediocre looking with decent boobs. When we arrived, I didn’t talk but I was slowly trying to back out of it because we all knew they weren’t lookers. But then my friends went right ahead of ordered one up for me despite my hesitation. I didn’t want to be a party pooper and since I wasn’t paying, I complied, but I wasn’t excited at all.

The place was pretty hush-hush and everybody spoke with indoor voice. I wasn’t crazy about the fact that they barely speak English but that’s not exactly a deal breaker for what I’m doing. I was led into a room and the woman asked if I speak Chinese. I told her that I speak Cantonese and it was as though she didn’t know what Cantonese was. She asked the same question a few more times, in English and in Mandarin, and I kept giving her the same answer and added that I was from Hong Kong. She didn’t get it but whatever, we just proceeded. She told me to start and I declared that I was putting on a condom and she shushed me. I said it slightly loud by accident but I wasn’t screaming it or anything and it felt weird to be shushed. The whore-philliac friend had advised me to try to hold out longer but when it was all about to start, I didn’t really have anything in mind. I didn’t try to finish quick or slow, I just went with it.

As a Chinese guy, my dick is pretty small already and because I wasn’t excited, I was completely flaccid and it was as tiny a knob as it’s ever been. I’ve never shaved that area so it was practically camouflaged in the bushes. Like most people, I try to make jokes to ease awkwardness so I outright joked and said “It’s small, isn’t it?” I have no idea if she heard or understood because of her poor English but it wasn’t important. When I took off my shirt, she “ooo”-ed and rubbed my chest. I don’t know if it was purely an act or if she was excited because I was actually kind of built or if she thought it was funny that I was hairless. Earlier, my friend told me about freely touching boobs because he knew my taste and knew that I would’ve wanted to know that. So I only hesitated a little as I reached for the boobs because that’s the only attraction at that point. In my years of virginity, I had already thought of the possibility that boob-touching is overhyped and that was definitely the case tonight. It just felt like oval flesh. It wasn’t particularly exciting. It was fine. It didn’t get me hard and I was planning to play with them a bit but she kind of brushed my arm off after a couple squeezes and told me to lie down. I guess she just wanted to get right to my dick so she can get rid of me sooner. I lied down and reached for a boob and she kinda pushed it away again and told me she was going to suck my dick. I guess she pushed my hand away to get into sucking position. She sucked for a bit and my dick rose steadily. Once it was up, I didn’t know how quickly I would finish so I stopped her and asked for pussy. It was pretty awkward asking for pussy and not knowing if she understood me or not. I didn’t know where to start so I just let her lead. We switched to her lying down and because I was awkwardly on top of her, I couldn’t really reach for boob anymore. If it isn’t clear already, I’m kinda obsessed with boobs.

I didn’t wait for my dick to get fully hard so it was pretty difficult to shove such a small object into its destination. I didn’t really care about my small dick but the most disappointing part was that I couldn’t feel anything because of the condom. I was very disappointed in sex. I give myself a way better handjob. I didn’t know how to get into fucking positions and ours parts didn’t seem to fit together. When I tried to get on the bed, she pointed at me feet and said “No toes.” I don’t know how I was supposed to fuck her without my feet on the bed. I’ve never fucked so my pelvic muscle wasn’t strong. Not only that, but I don’t have a big range of motion to work with because of my short dick. My dick is probably proportional to my height, average-ish, but it didn’t help that it wasn’t even at its full length. If that’s not bad enough already, I also had to take a break after my first thrust because I pulled my hamstring right away. This sex thing wasn’t working and we switched position several times. None of the positions seem to work. I forgot to mention that I kind of needed to pee before we started so when she was bouncing on top, my bladder felt a lot more than my dick did. Whenever I had a free hand, I tried to reach for a boob and she keeps brushing it off after a short while. I don’t know what the deal is. Much like a fly, she’d let me go at it shortly to see if I would move away myself I guess. She didn’t react greatly to it either. It was just weird. Finally, she offered to finish with her hands and I just said sure. She only went at it for a little while and she already seemed tired and disgruntled with her hands. Disappointing. I could’ve done a better job myself. The rest is history.

Prior to tonight, I actually feared that I might enjoy sex too much and be forced to get a job to finance this obsession. Instead, my depression and lack of motivation to live just got reaffirmed. Not a great night. The fast food I had with my friends was way better than the sex. It was un-noteworthy but it still wouldn’t have been a bad night if it wasn’t for the fact that I left something in my friend’s car. I had to drive 30 minutes to my friend’s house to pick it back up. Now it’s just a waste of time and money. I would’ve been better off spending that money on Tales of Xillia for the PS3 that came out last month. Yes, I think about video games more than sex. What a nerd I am.