Random Oversaturation And Fat Hooker Epilogue

It’s hard to title these entries because I talk about so many random topics by design. I also don’t like including the word “random” in the title all the time either. I think 80% of my entries start off with me commenting on the title. And probably 5% of my entries has me commenting on the fact that I comment on the title… I don’t know if I dislike these or not…

 

I’m writing yet another random word entry. Hopefully I’m not giving people too much crap to read. I’d like to think of it as being prolific, haha. I have a tendency to do something to death when I get positive feedback. Anyone who knows me probably sees that in other things I do. After finding out someone actually read my last entry, I feel motivated enough to write more. Technically speaking, nobody said they liked it but I’m just going to make that big fat assumption. I don’t trust the “like” button. It’s used for too many things other than its intended purpose. Some people might click “like” just so the person gets an email notification that links to their own blog. It can be used as a tool of advertising without actually having read the entry. I’ve been guilty of that myself. Surprisingly, I think most people who likes my stuff actually reads it. Maybe I’m the only dick who haphazardly clicks “like” and I’m projecting it onto other people. The other way I use the “like” button is just to let the person know I read it and didn’t hate it. It’s more of an “acknowledgement” button.

 

Hmm… I don’t think I even need to resort to the random word generator for this entry. There’s enough substance already. I already looked up 5 words though so I’ll probably keep writing after I post this. For now, I’ll write about the epilogue to my fat hooker story. I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it before. If you’re unfamiliar with the fat hooker story, you can search “fat hooker” on the right. Lower Than The Lowest Lows is the written entry on that. I also apparently recorded a couple podcasts on it too so it’s probably a fuller explanation if you consume all of that. I’m a little scared to revisit my podcast because I might discover how stupid I was. I don’t know if those are worth listening to or not, but it’s there if you want to hear them. I’ll listen to my podcast one day but today’s not that day yet.

 

A short version of the fat hooker story is that I was pathetically lonely at the time and the fat hooker was the only person responding on craigslist that night so I decided to try to take that relationship as far as I could. After visiting her (without having sex) and learning of her situation (she recently left home and is prostituting herself to make money to pay for the motel she was staying at), I tried to offer her to stay at my place to help her get back on her feet. It gets complicated because I live with my parents but it luckily never got that far. My offer piqued her interest but she was rightfully cautious about it and I was very fortunate that that was the case because it meant that I didn’t get into a mess that I was diving head first into.

 

…I just spent the last 10 minutes consulting the emails so I can write about this part without smudging with the facts. It was a pretty interesting read, lol. I should post that someday or read it on a podcast. It’s pretty long so I’ll just sum it up for this entry. Basically we had a falling out over email before I even met her a second time. That was probably one of the luckiest things to ever happen to me. Let’s just call it a clash of personalities. Interestingly, people seem to resort to name calling at this point but I am able to remain calm and rational and end the interaction with a few concluding statements without turning it into a big fight. I do that by taking the blame and apologizing and saying we’re probably better off not interacting anymore. I guess I’m just the bigger man. I wanted to write a joke about that, perhaps by contrasting it to myself being a tiny Asian man. I don’t love that premise because I don’t want to call myself a tiny Asian man. I got tired to trying to finish that joke and I think it might even be better if I didn’t bring it up but I’m just going to leave that incomplete thought there.

 

Here’s where the epilogue begins. A month later, she emailed me apologizing for her rudeness in the last email. By this time, I was no longer invested in the situation but I still exchanged a few friendly emails with her out of politeness. Apparently she had become homeless and started living in a shelter. There were about 20 emails back and forth. Neither of us made any mention of my previous offer for her to stay at my place but I got the sense that that’s what she was after. If she had asked about it, it would’ve been tough to respond to. I guess I dodged another bullet there. The story pretty much just ends here but I think this might be very unsatisfying to read. I guess I should include a few of my thoughts and analysis of the situation.

 

I only met her once but we had agreed on meeting more and becoming friends. We never did meet a second time. Every time the second meeting was being planned, she asked to borrow money. Money was involved in the first meeting too but I just considered it a charity and an investment in potential friendship (giving her the benefit of the doubt). I don’t know how truly crafty she was being or if there was a part of her that really would’ve wanted to be friends but she fucked it up by continually asking for money without putting in enough effort into the friendship first. I still believe there’s a slight possibility that she really did only need to borrow the money but it had become a bad investment for me for a friendship that hasn’t happened yet.

 

…I was going to write some thoughts on the epilogue too but I can’t seem to concisely put my thoughts into words so I’m just going to end this entry here. Perhaps there will be an epilogue to this epilogue someday.

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Night of Nudity

The night started off with me being bored and looking through craigslist. I found an ad of a photographer that wants to take nude pics and he’ll pay $25 (basically to cover transportation) and he can send over a copy of the photos. Yes, such sketchiness with so little info and yet I accepted it and went to the studio. I was pretty bored with my stagnant life and figured I’d do something wild and risky. If something bad were to happen, at least I’d feel something. I believe that’s the wrist cutter’s mentality. Although I’m not really just doing it to feel something. I figure if something really bad were to happen to me I’d appreciate my life more. At the same time, it’s not like I’m asking for it. I don’t wish for something bad to happen. It’s just that I was aware of the risk and what I’m putting on the line for it. In this case, it would be my rape cherry.

 

I picked a bad time to drive downtown and after I got down there, I continued to hate driving downtown because it’s so much more hectic than uptown. Apparently there was a basketball game tonight and the first parking lot I chose had jacked up prices. I decided to drive a little farther for a cheaper park. The jacked up rate was $20 for the night. I was expecting $10 which is still pricey. When I got back in my car, a guy approached me. He gave a speech about how he was homeless and that he was trying to learn computers to get his life straight but he was hungry and wanted some money. Out of the kindness of my heart, I decided to give him $2 to get a hotdog. He said hotdogs cost $3 so I gave him another dollar. If I were really kind, I probably should’ve given him more but at least it was better than nothing. I never know if these people asking for money is for real or if it’s just a scam. Either way, it was just a couple bucks; I’ve been wasting way more than that lately anyway.

 

After driving around a bit, I found parking at a children’s hospital for $7. I wasn’t aware that I was parking in the hospital when I was parking the car but it was fine. Finally, I met up with the photographer and began my shoot. You know the brief bit of information I gave you about this whole photoshoot? That’s literally all the information I have on it. I didn’t do any background checking or anything. Anything could’ve happened to me.

 

I entered the sketchy building and into his tiny studio. He tried to make me feel at ease with some small talk but I don’t really care for small talk. We started off taking clothed pictures. As he asked me to remove each article of clothing, I wondered if I was going to get raped. After a couple nude shots, he asked me to shave my pubic hair. He had a razor there for me to use. I had never shaved down there before and I started shaving lousily. Eventually, I let the guy shave me. It wasn’t forceful or anything, but yes, that happened. The rest of the shoot was pretty straight forward and I got my $25. I live about an hour away from downtown and since I drove all that way, I decided to wander the streets aimlessly for a bit.

 

After walking in and out of a few shops without doing anything, barely even browsing, I stumbled upon Zanzibar, a strip club. The name actually caught my attention first. The reason I noticed it was because I’ve edited a book for a psychic and he mentions the Zanzibar a lot from his childhood stories. Back then, it was a jazz club. I learned a bit of the history from talking to the strippers. I actually wasn’t too eager to go to a strip club but I figured I was just going to go home anyway so I might as well drop in and take a gander. The door said no cover charge. As a cheap person, that intrigued me. I sat down and it didn’t take long for a waitress to ask for my orders. I didn’t want anything but she told me it’s a one drink minimum and the drinks start at $7. I really didn’t feel like I needed to see live boobs so I walked out to decide whether I want to sit in a strip club for $7. After wandering around the streets a bit more, I figure heck, $7 isn’t too bad. I need to live a little. Plus, I spent way waaaaaaaaaaaaaay more money on my ex-girlfriend, which as her title implies, didn’t work out. Being depressed and having wasted a lot more money on things recently, I’m now a little more loose with my money… until I run out of the cash lying around in my house which shouldn’t take long if I start spending it.

 

Once I decided to re-enter the strip club, the first thing I did was go downstairs to the washroom. I saw an attendant in there and it caught me by surprise. I contemplated whether I should just turn back instantly but I didn’t want to do anything suspicious so I decided to just wash my hands instead. The guy gave me soap and a towel which I didn’t like because I knew where it was going. I tried not to tip because I just washed my hands and I honestly didn’t even need to. The guy seemed a bit angered by it so I just tipped him a dollar to prevent from making a scene. Next time, I should turn around and leave as soon as I see an attendant. I didn’t even pee…

 

After that washroom fiasco, I took a seat and tried to enjoy the show. I was already somewhat aware of the nature of strip clubs – the way strippers try to sell you on dances which are costly and measured by songs. It actually isn’t too costly but a song isn’t very long. Strippers approached me and tried to give me a dance. I asked them how much it costs. It costs $20 cover to get a private room and then it’s $20 per song. I was willing to part with $20 but $40 right off the bat seems a bit steep for me. I turned down several strippers. I starting to feel proud of myself for the restraint I was exercising. Honestly, I quite enjoy the part where they approach me and feign interest in me. Fake or not, it’s still nice to have someone act like they want my attention. If I were a dick, I could actually enjoy myself without spending money by fishing them along for several minutes before finally declining the dance. I don’t intend to waste their time so I let them know very early on that I’m not planning to spend much money tonight.

 

One stripper tried pretty hard to sell me the dance. I let her know early on it’s too pricey for me and I’d need to think about it more but she kept trying so I let her. We made a bit of a small talk. Of course, she then insisted on a dance again and when I said no to that last offer, she immediately ignored me. I actually wanted to ask one more question to wrap up our conversation but she didn’t care anymore. The immediacy of her ignorance felt pretty bad. She was actually pretty close to making the sale with me but not anymore.

 

As more strippers approached me, I decided to ask one to just cuddle with me a bit without getting a room so I don’t need to pay the cover. I was worth it enough for me. I very much enjoy having someone close to me and touching me. This girl wasn’t as touchy as some of the other ones but it was fine. So we sat for a song and I gave her $20. I was content with that spending. I didn’t plan on spending anymore but then a Romanian woman came along that did a pretty good job. I’m not particularly attracted to Romanians or anything though some people might think so based on a previous post. She just seemed nice enough, attractive enough, and I don’t mind parting with another $20. Sales is hard and I want to give them a sale. This girl was pretty good. I stayed at the table without a private room which mean less intimate touching but I was okay with that. She motorboated me a couple times which was a pleasant surprise. She smelled nice and I asked her what her scent was. I guessed strawberry but she told me it was pomegranate and lemon. It didn’t smell crazy good but it was kind of nice and I asked just to give a compliment and make small talk. Although I repeatedly proclaim my dislike for small talk, I see its uses and importance and I don’t take that away from it. In conclusion, those two girls were nice, lol. $40 was a bit more than I thought I’d spend but it wasn’t too bad.

 

I try to extend my stay downtown as much as possible and had been texting Justin (my friend) to see if he wanted to go to a bar. He happened to have plans with his friends and girlfriend to go to a club so I joined them. After posing nude and getting out of my comfort zone, I thought I’d be able to let myself loose in the club instead of just standing in the corner like I usually do. I wasn’t able to let loose as much as I had hoped but it was better than past times. I literally did nothing in previous club outings so doing more than that isn’t saying much. The problem with approaching girls is that I don’t know what’s step two. I can muster up the effort to approach and say any one line, but after that, I’m not really too interested in reacting, whether it would be dancing or conversing. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to girls, but that’s hard enough on it’s own without deafening music making it an impossibility.

 

When I entered the club, I decided to not use the coat check. My jacket wasn’t fancy or anything so I just left it on a chair and expected it to be there for me by the end of the night. I was aware of the risk but it seemed worth it to me. As a precaution for the worst case scenario, I took all valuables out of my jacket and put them in my jean pockets. I had quite a few things: car keys, wallet, cell phone, gps, and psp. The last two are the biggest and most people wouldn’t carry with them but I did. My jeans had big enough pockets that it fit in fairly comfortably so that wasn’t a problem. After dancing for about an hour, I decided to check on my jacket and it was gone. The coat check was only $3 but I decided to gamble and lost. Oh well. I wasn’t too attached to that jacket anyway.

 

To sum up, I spent quite a bit of money tonight. Roughly $10 of gas I’d say, $3 to beggar, $7 parking, $1 washroom attendant, $7 strip club drink, $40 lap dances, $10 club cover fee, totaling $78 and my jacket. I earned $25 in the process so that makes it $53 and my jacket.  Is it worth it? I’m choosing not to think about it too much. The sum itself isn’t too big a deal if I had fun but I can’t really say I had a lot of fun. I tried to make the most out of the night but it’s not exactly more fun than a night in playing video games which costs virtually nothing.


I’ll end this entry with a joke. When I told another friend about my nude posing gig for $25, she joked that I was overpaid. Kudos to her. I thought it was pretty funny.

Drinking Hot Sauce

I’m basically just trying to pass time these days. I’m supposed to have some interviews next week and I’m just going to ride that out. If I were a harder working person, I’d be trying to do something productive in the meantime but I’m just going to keep waiting because I don’t feel like working very hard at the moment.

 

Last night, I went out with Justin and a bunch of his friends. Not sure if anyone remembers Justin, I’ve mentioned him in previous blog entries and podcasts and stuff. Not really important who he is though, you only need to know that he’s a good friend. I’m not sure if I simply never noticed it in my first couple years being his friend, but the past couple years he’s been horrible at making plans and cancels them a lot. It’s at a point right now that if I have plans with Justin, I cannot tell my parents about it until the moment I leave the house. That’s also because I have shitty parents. If I end up not going out after telling them about it, my mom would keep asking stupid questions over and over again, and asking it as if I was the rude person cancelling the plans. My dad, on the other hand, would just laugh at my face for being cancelled on.

 

The plan is to go to a casino but we went to Jack Astor’s before that. When we were half way through eating, one of the friends randomly offered to pay a dollar to Justin if he drank the hot dipping sauce. It was just a random dare, no one was particular into it, hence the small wager. As a cheap person willing to be reckless with my life, the offer piqued my interest and I told them I’d do it for $3. We asked around the table to see who else wants to pitch in a dollar. I knew the whole thing wasn’t particularly interesting so I didn’t force anyone who wasn’t interested. We got it up to $5 so I did it. I drank it like a shot and it actually actually pretty easy. I feel bad for them because I wasn’t more of an entertainment. It didn’t taste good and most people would probably make a disgusted face as they swallow it and that’s what the money’s for but I didn’t make any faces. I almost felt like I ripped them off but I didn’t feel bad about it since it wasn’t even enough money to pay my share of the bill.

 

That’s pretty much it. I guess now I know I can drink hot sauce for practically no money. We went to a casino after and everyone lost money. Justin and some of the others have had really good winnings at the casino before but not last night. I didn’t play because I get turned off by the house edge, understanding probability and that the casino will always win in the end. I don’t gamble, but apparently I have no problem gambling my health with the hot sauce. It’s pretty mild but I can still feel it a little in my chest and ass right now.

Sad. Funny. Truthful. Podcast Episode 50 – Jason, Cigar, Drugs, Money

I talk with Jason about a bunch of stuff including the things I listed in the title.

Dropbox: https://www.dropbox.com/sm/create/SFTpodcast/SFT-0050-Jason_Cigars_Drugs_Money.mp3

Youtube: http://youtu.be/jjnqEG951ac

If the above link doesn’t work, you should always check here (https://tedgaming.wordpress.com/2013/10/15/where-to-download-sad-funny-truthful-podcast/) for the updated links to download the podcast. I will also provide the link to download all the episodes there and it might even have newer and better links.

Sponsor:

koncepp.com

Web hosting starting at $5 a month. You might get more discount if you mention this podcast. I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore lol.


Being Shallow

It’s bad to be shallow. But taking someone’s looks and money into consideration isn’t shallow. It’s only shallow when those material things are the only things that matter. I look at the full person, including material things. Looks and wealth are not the most important things, they’re like bonuses. Just because I’m not shallow, it doesn’t mean I have to pretend like those things don’t exist. This is coming from a person who has neither looks nor money. I know I definitely have no money. I’d like to think I have some looks but it’s never gotten me anywhere so it can’t be that good. I don’t know what the point of this post is. I just wanted to write something. It’s not an angry response rant from somebody calling me shallow. It’s just me being bored and generating conversations in my head. I also find myself secretly hating on people a lot….

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.

Asking Girls In

First off, I’d like to say that life is getting really shitty once again. In between the time I turned on the computer to write this blog and actually writing it, my mom woke up from bed just to nag me about some bullshit again. I don’t want to go too far into it but just saying bullshit makes me sound like the bad guy so I’ll describe the boring situation a bit. Basically, the bank and the government made some dumbass errors and they keep saying I’m not paying enough taxes for having too much money in the bank but I don’t actually have that money because it’s a fuckin’ error. I’ve already filed all the correctional paperwork and all I can do now is just wait for the slowass government to fix it over 6 months. In the meantime, they continue to automatically send me more letters saying I owe them more and more money. Then, my mom also flips out and fuckin’ nags me about the problem. I’m getting pincer harassed by a flawed and slow government system and my retard mom. That’s all I’ll say on that subject because saying fuck and calling my mom a retard can’t sustain a false sense of interest in this subject much longer.

People normally feel a roller coaster of emotions but I just feel a roller coaster of depression. There are kind of ups and downs. The ups are just comparatively less shitty, but it’s still shit. It’s like the difference between stepping on dog shit or falling face first into it or having a piece of shit coming half way out of my asshole when a spider scares the shit out of me (not literally because the shit is still half way out/in my asshole) and while trying to run away from a spider with my pants around my ankle, I trip and get my own shit all over myself. Yes, that was awfully specific but no, it did not happen. That’s just a product of my fucked up imagination..

Moving on from shit talk, some of you might be wondering what the fuck is with the title? I seem to always coin phrases that makes me sound like I don’t understand the English language. I know it’s normally asking girls out but this topic is about asking girls in. As a cheapass fucked up person living in my parents’ house, dating sounds horrible: spending money to go out, spending money on dinner or movie or other activities. Not only does it pain me to spend money, I don’t even enjoy the out-of-home activities so why would I want to pay for something I don’t enjoy? I’ve worked out a theoretical ideal date where we would just cuddle on a couch and watch tv, movie, or play video games. That is a great date for me… in theory…

Normally, there’s only the two states of theory and practice but I’m about to invent an additional state in between. I theorize that in practice, I won’t actually enjoy the act of cuddling because people (myself included) get warm and sweaty and moist. This new state, the theory of practice, I shall call meta-theory. Even before practice, I’m already convincing myself that I won’t enjoy the company of other people. No wonder I haven’t asked a girl out in years and will be alone forever. Almost a year ago today, the last time I was kind of interested in a girl, I actually asked the girl out on a hypothetical date and she even agreed but I never went on to make an actual date. When I describe my actions, I always sound like a total dick.