I know I haven't posted on this thing for a while, but I'm afraid I may start doing so again, because this crazy chick I hooked up with, and proceeded to break up with wont leave me alone. I don't like shit getting back to me, but I need to vent. I'm on facebook, and she wants to talk to me, I'm on aim and she wants to talk to me, I have a phone and she wants to talk to me. I don't want to talk. Just leave me alone, PLEASE.
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I watched pippen tonight. also had a dentists check up/consultation. It was a lot of fun. I sat in a room, where a doctor touched my teeth with his metal mirror like instrument, and took it back out to flirt with my mother. With me in the room. It was a tad bit awkward. Well, really awkward, but apparently I get to have vikoden. which is good. I just have to find out if laughing gas and IV that puts me to sleep will be affected by other drugs.
Continue more later.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, July 24, 2008
I'm Not Sexy
On a related note of obvious statements, I update this blog about as often as George Bush goes into work. *ba dum kush* Obligatory hacky bush joke out of the way, I am pretty bored right now. I was prompted to update the blog, by my one friend who reads it. Who also doesn't talk to me very often. But that's not the point.
Anyways, I get to see Chris "Motherfucking" Rock perform on Saturday night with my dad. Somewhat excited about that. Well actually super excited, as he is in my opinion the best living stand up comic alive right now. And of course, on friday night, (well maybe not of course), I'm gonna try go down to Sharkey's comedy club and perform in the open mic. Chee. I'm gonna suck, but that's okay. Hopefully, there will be an open mic going down tomorrow as well, at Coffetalk, and if so I may be performing there as well.
Okay, I know that you guys were expecting more emo thoughts from me. Partly because they are interesting, and partly because you have nothing better to do. Well guess what? I'm writing songs. Emo songs. Emo rap songs. haha, a somewhat new style created by me, and a bunch of other people who do it WAY better. Anyways, I'm recording songs on my computer, and getting the beats from my friend from school. Watch out for the Stolen Property EP. Gonna be fucking ridiculous. Ridiculously sad at the very least. An asian kid trying to rap? C'mon.
This is pretty therapeutic, talking. But if I'm not emo and talking, does it make me emo instead? I'm not quite sure really. Regardless, this is part journal, part cry for help for people to understand me for who I am. Pysch. Or maybe I'm being serious, right now I'm really not sure.
Finished Driver's Ed today. Sucked ass. Got in trouble the last day for reading during a video. Scoldings and everything, and then of course, instead of being like, well your class is boring as fuck, and I quit. I was a pussy, and apologized. Jesus, I really am a coward. Got lifeguard certified last saturday, which is cool. I can do CPR, and save people flailing in the water, even with neck and spinal injuries. Well theoretically at the very least. I failed the first aid test once, before passing on the second try. Boo.
Been going walls this summer, which is fun. But I heard one of my classmates got owned at walls, had to get the ambulance in, to save him. Sucks balls man. Confined to the couch for like a month. Like a couple weeks after his 18th birthday as well, super boo. But back to me for now. I got super tan for about three weeks, and now already I'm getting lighter from writing super long blogs. Hope you guys appreciate me. :p. Haha, well I got nicknamed "Brownie" by someone, which is a rather weird nickname. I look almost like I could be part Hawaiian. Almost. Well, almost how like Dane Cook is an original comedian, almost. About one person will get this reference. Everyone else will be like huh? But that's okay.
Hmm... what else to talk about. Oh, yeah, of course TV shows. I hated this season's Last Comic Standing with a passion early on in the season. It was just so bad, and so unfunny. Most of the comics who were moving on, I felt were hacky, and the few people who I thought were funny and original got owned in the semifinals. Boo. But this season, is becoming slowly better and better, albeit for the wrong reasons. The first episode, with the comics in the house, was really bad, in a somewhat good way. And by bad, I mean bad TV, not bad, cool-esque, badassness Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean bad. The challenge for immunity was basically to have a Yo Momma contest. And it went as expected. Some took the challenge seriously, and wrote original yo momma jokes, some did yo momma jokes they told as kids, some did the complete opposite (God's Pottery) and did jokes about how nice their momma was. Really, really kinda strange stuff. I forget who won, but it doesnt matter anyways, because we found out, about how annoying the token asian girl was, and how her laugh was completely unbearable. Esther Ku. How I hate that woman. Gah, she is what would happen if Carlos Mencia was skinnier, chinese, and a girl. And instead of making bad racial jokes, she wait a second. Makes bad racial and skinny girl jokes. Some of them caught me off guard, but a majority of her set was stuff that everyone has done before. Asian accents. Asian guys dont date asian girls. We use chopsticks (okay that one actually was original, but that's besides the point). She just had this annoying voice, and the only reason why she was on the show, was because she is photogenic. I guarantee, if she looked like Margaret Cho, and had the same exact act, she wouldn't have made it past the preliminary round (I.E. before the crowd gets to decide on who moves on). God. Frustrating. Oh and the other group that failed in this round, was God's Pottery. Which I'm thankful for, because although original, and entertaining for five minutes at a time, became quickly aggravating, and retarded within about 15 minutes of watching the show. It didn't help that they appear to have about five songs, all of which albeit wholesome and funny, tend to wear thin on the audience. The comic who survived the first round of elims was none other than LA's own Eliza Something. I don't know her last name because I'm used to short one syllabic last names, as I'm chinese. Seriously, the longest last name is like Chang. I can't spell beyond that really, there is a reason why I'm only taking one real english class next year.
Second episode was equally as horrible. A trainwreck for sure, but at least it was a funny trainwreck. The challenge of the week was to do prop comedy. And pretty much everyone was pretty horrible. Really, really bad, but I was laughing my balls of at how bad it was. So much fun. Then for the elimination thing, two went home, this time it was India's Papa CJ (who's five minute set doesnt change much) and Paul Foot (who really really couldnt get anything going). Eliza once again moved on, (i'm thinking the home crowd is slightly biased). The show is really becoming a parody of itself, it's so bad.
I love So You Think You Can Dance. The chicks are so hot. Damn. Oh and mark, I'm sorry you've been awesome this season but its your time to go. Questionable about the reviewers though. Nigel seemed to be going easy on the couples. For example, I kept seeing these really awful hand transitions, and thought the judges would talk about it at the very least but nope nothing. Also, Twitch and Katee completely messed up their final lift, and the judges didn't even comment. Geez, but then you guys go and bash Mark and Comfort (although true enough, it was pretty bad). Gah, the nerve. Okay I have to go record a song, while my dad is off running. I guess this is it until next time. Peace.
Anyways, I get to see Chris "Motherfucking" Rock perform on Saturday night with my dad. Somewhat excited about that. Well actually super excited, as he is in my opinion the best living stand up comic alive right now. And of course, on friday night, (well maybe not of course), I'm gonna try go down to Sharkey's comedy club and perform in the open mic. Chee. I'm gonna suck, but that's okay. Hopefully, there will be an open mic going down tomorrow as well, at Coffetalk, and if so I may be performing there as well.
Okay, I know that you guys were expecting more emo thoughts from me. Partly because they are interesting, and partly because you have nothing better to do. Well guess what? I'm writing songs. Emo songs. Emo rap songs. haha, a somewhat new style created by me, and a bunch of other people who do it WAY better. Anyways, I'm recording songs on my computer, and getting the beats from my friend from school. Watch out for the Stolen Property EP. Gonna be fucking ridiculous. Ridiculously sad at the very least. An asian kid trying to rap? C'mon.
This is pretty therapeutic, talking. But if I'm not emo and talking, does it make me emo instead? I'm not quite sure really. Regardless, this is part journal, part cry for help for people to understand me for who I am. Pysch. Or maybe I'm being serious, right now I'm really not sure.
Finished Driver's Ed today. Sucked ass. Got in trouble the last day for reading during a video. Scoldings and everything, and then of course, instead of being like, well your class is boring as fuck, and I quit. I was a pussy, and apologized. Jesus, I really am a coward. Got lifeguard certified last saturday, which is cool. I can do CPR, and save people flailing in the water, even with neck and spinal injuries. Well theoretically at the very least. I failed the first aid test once, before passing on the second try. Boo.
Been going walls this summer, which is fun. But I heard one of my classmates got owned at walls, had to get the ambulance in, to save him. Sucks balls man. Confined to the couch for like a month. Like a couple weeks after his 18th birthday as well, super boo. But back to me for now. I got super tan for about three weeks, and now already I'm getting lighter from writing super long blogs. Hope you guys appreciate me. :p. Haha, well I got nicknamed "Brownie" by someone, which is a rather weird nickname. I look almost like I could be part Hawaiian. Almost. Well, almost how like Dane Cook is an original comedian, almost. About one person will get this reference. Everyone else will be like huh? But that's okay.
Hmm... what else to talk about. Oh, yeah, of course TV shows. I hated this season's Last Comic Standing with a passion early on in the season. It was just so bad, and so unfunny. Most of the comics who were moving on, I felt were hacky, and the few people who I thought were funny and original got owned in the semifinals. Boo. But this season, is becoming slowly better and better, albeit for the wrong reasons. The first episode, with the comics in the house, was really bad, in a somewhat good way. And by bad, I mean bad TV, not bad, cool-esque, badassness Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean bad. The challenge for immunity was basically to have a Yo Momma contest. And it went as expected. Some took the challenge seriously, and wrote original yo momma jokes, some did yo momma jokes they told as kids, some did the complete opposite (God's Pottery) and did jokes about how nice their momma was. Really, really kinda strange stuff. I forget who won, but it doesnt matter anyways, because we found out, about how annoying the token asian girl was, and how her laugh was completely unbearable. Esther Ku. How I hate that woman. Gah, she is what would happen if Carlos Mencia was skinnier, chinese, and a girl. And instead of making bad racial jokes, she wait a second. Makes bad racial and skinny girl jokes. Some of them caught me off guard, but a majority of her set was stuff that everyone has done before. Asian accents. Asian guys dont date asian girls. We use chopsticks (okay that one actually was original, but that's besides the point). She just had this annoying voice, and the only reason why she was on the show, was because she is photogenic. I guarantee, if she looked like Margaret Cho, and had the same exact act, she wouldn't have made it past the preliminary round (I.E. before the crowd gets to decide on who moves on). God. Frustrating. Oh and the other group that failed in this round, was God's Pottery. Which I'm thankful for, because although original, and entertaining for five minutes at a time, became quickly aggravating, and retarded within about 15 minutes of watching the show. It didn't help that they appear to have about five songs, all of which albeit wholesome and funny, tend to wear thin on the audience. The comic who survived the first round of elims was none other than LA's own Eliza Something. I don't know her last name because I'm used to short one syllabic last names, as I'm chinese. Seriously, the longest last name is like Chang. I can't spell beyond that really, there is a reason why I'm only taking one real english class next year.
Second episode was equally as horrible. A trainwreck for sure, but at least it was a funny trainwreck. The challenge of the week was to do prop comedy. And pretty much everyone was pretty horrible. Really, really bad, but I was laughing my balls of at how bad it was. So much fun. Then for the elimination thing, two went home, this time it was India's Papa CJ (who's five minute set doesnt change much) and Paul Foot (who really really couldnt get anything going). Eliza once again moved on, (i'm thinking the home crowd is slightly biased). The show is really becoming a parody of itself, it's so bad.
I love So You Think You Can Dance. The chicks are so hot. Damn. Oh and mark, I'm sorry you've been awesome this season but its your time to go. Questionable about the reviewers though. Nigel seemed to be going easy on the couples. For example, I kept seeing these really awful hand transitions, and thought the judges would talk about it at the very least but nope nothing. Also, Twitch and Katee completely messed up their final lift, and the judges didn't even comment. Geez, but then you guys go and bash Mark and Comfort (although true enough, it was pretty bad). Gah, the nerve. Okay I have to go record a song, while my dad is off running. I guess this is it until next time. Peace.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Almost Done With the School Year
One final left. One two hour session of hell to pass, and then done. Except I have work tomorrow. Fuck.
The head is out of sync. Relationships? I use blogger to wax poetic about life. Except I have none-too-interesting thoughts to share. A rebound of time, sleeping through the night, makes me wish I could drive.
I enjoy posting my thoughts about potential rebellion online, when in reality, it is highly unlikely I shall ever comit such a felony.
The head is out of sync. Relationships? I use blogger to wax poetic about life. Except I have none-too-interesting thoughts to share. A rebound of time, sleeping through the night, makes me wish I could drive.
I enjoy posting my thoughts about potential rebellion online, when in reality, it is highly unlikely I shall ever comit such a felony.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
The flow changes. The free dies. Making absolute sense of complete nonsense. Another cliche wasted.
Fuck shit. Suck dicks.
Nightly, like Michael Vick,
will after time in prison, sit-in
on a black guy's laps calling him daddy,
feeling the sappy, dick entering the crappy,
macking shit, crapping quick of little boys snick-ers bars
with fast cars and a little sars minding the reason, easing on feasible rhymes,
that are unadulterated in time, feeling fine, at one with the world,
touring birds, murdering kurds, like it was another gulf war,
but with asians guys dying, starting the third world war,
going far in life is looking bleak, staring at the beaks,
of pidgeons and vultures circling creepy
looking for pretty prey, or projects to vibe on,
signing on the certain life's making crying go on.
Never stopping, never typing fast, making past lifes of
little boys minds and crash. I'm crashing, my brains fasting
a four day weekend and break from school, mind's drooling,
refridgerated cooling, feeling like a grocery store.
filled with unused food, that tastes like old poo,
in the pool, with samples of other people's stool.
A nasty combination of wack rappers, and crap back packers,
hustling for a day's work with no reward, making it hurt
that even after spending all day at ward,
that I hadn't got a record deal, or one phone number
from a label exec, or a pretty girl with corn rows and spending time with her in deep slumber.
This is monotonous, making hippopotamuses with diseases making brains fall asleep like lectures about cotton gins,
making collagen, what is that? I don't know head hurts, down more gin.
Its a sin to drink, but if it makes you think, deeply about life and troubles,
its a good tonic, and deserves the hail mary, like a god-fairy,
bringing light to your world, and making sense of fights,
between fathers and sons, not making it right,
but making you sleep and understand it on sight.
A new born baby just died last night.
Nightly, like Michael Vick,
will after time in prison, sit-in
on a black guy's laps calling him daddy,
feeling the sappy, dick entering the crappy,
macking shit, crapping quick of little boys snick-ers bars
with fast cars and a little sars minding the reason, easing on feasible rhymes,
that are unadulterated in time, feeling fine, at one with the world,
touring birds, murdering kurds, like it was another gulf war,
but with asians guys dying, starting the third world war,
going far in life is looking bleak, staring at the beaks,
of pidgeons and vultures circling creepy
looking for pretty prey, or projects to vibe on,
signing on the certain life's making crying go on.
Never stopping, never typing fast, making past lifes of
little boys minds and crash. I'm crashing, my brains fasting
a four day weekend and break from school, mind's drooling,
refridgerated cooling, feeling like a grocery store.
filled with unused food, that tastes like old poo,
in the pool, with samples of other people's stool.
A nasty combination of wack rappers, and crap back packers,
hustling for a day's work with no reward, making it hurt
that even after spending all day at ward,
that I hadn't got a record deal, or one phone number
from a label exec, or a pretty girl with corn rows and spending time with her in deep slumber.
This is monotonous, making hippopotamuses with diseases making brains fall asleep like lectures about cotton gins,
making collagen, what is that? I don't know head hurts, down more gin.
Its a sin to drink, but if it makes you think, deeply about life and troubles,
its a good tonic, and deserves the hail mary, like a god-fairy,
bringing light to your world, and making sense of fights,
between fathers and sons, not making it right,
but making you sleep and understand it on sight.
A new born baby just died last night.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Can the Strike Please End?
For those familiar with TV shows, then they must know that there has been a strike by the comedy workers. And I am asking, hoping that my prayers will be answered, that the TV companies or whoever is in charge, please come to an agreement with the writers? Because I am frankly sick of Kid Nation, Survivor China, and all the other crappy reality TV shows. Talking about reality TV shows, a good one, (I thought) was the one by Spike, called The Ultimate Fighter, because of the fighting. My mom watched it with me, to look at the guys, but I watched it for the MMA stuff. It was pretty intense fighting, especially the finale. In the finale, there was something crazy like five or six matches, with a ton of blood, elbows to noses, and tapouts from rear naked chokeholds.
Walked to 7-11 at 3:00 in the morning the other day. Was pretty mean. Nothing to do, so I was pretending I was black again, and tried to rap walking down the hill. Bought two secret Santa gifts. Axe and a gift card, then walked home. Pretty much.
This is a short blog. Simply because I don't want to put any more time in today.
Oh winterball was f'ing awesome. Rapping with Robert. Dancing With My Date. Feet Falling Off.
Walked to 7-11 at 3:00 in the morning the other day. Was pretty mean. Nothing to do, so I was pretending I was black again, and tried to rap walking down the hill. Bought two secret Santa gifts. Axe and a gift card, then walked home. Pretty much.
This is a short blog. Simply because I don't want to put any more time in today.
Oh winterball was f'ing awesome. Rapping with Robert. Dancing With My Date. Feet Falling Off.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Readership count: 1.
So I recently found out that someone does read my blog. Which means that I can no longer talk about 10 year old chicks being hot, because I am going to get shit for doing so from my friends. Luckily for you pedophile reading, I can still talk about the hot 8 year olds. Which happen to walk by the benches I sit at on the second Thursday of every month at about 12:50 PM. I'm kidding, they actually walk by every Thursday.
So one of the big things in my life, is that I went to this hip-hop underground event, called Trip The Lights. Which was fricken awesome. But I only got to stay until 11. Then my ride came, and I had to go home. But I got to hang out with these really awesome people. I hung out with EK, Opposite, TKO, Obese Jesus in the green room. met big mox. all these awesome dudes from hiphop underground, these guys are sick. But we were there for a beat battle. Which was hosted by Kavet, this really chill dude. and so, it was hosted at rRed Elephant, which is an awesome place to hold an event. just saying. I was supposed to go up and perform 5 minutes actually, but my mom said it "wasn't part of the deal" so I had to go home.
holy crap. okay, I just watched two girls one cup. which is disturbing in its own right. don't watch that. was looking for BME Olympics on google. on the second page, there was a link to freak pics. and on it are the most disgusting vile pictures I have ever seen. I am normally someone with a fairly decent stomach for vulgar and disgusting thinks, but that absolutely topped them all. ugh. I don't know whether or not I should give the link. I will not, but holy crap, I still have a headache from how screwed up I am.
Anyways, I think I shall launch into a Brian-esque post where I talk about random shit. *pause* wait for it. Here it goes. I have a box of powerbars. Powerbars are tasty, and flavorless. An enigma, like Ray Charles. I'm not sure how this fits, but I'm running with it. After I run, I eat powerbars. Sorry, something was flashing in the background, and it was distracting me. Much like it does in real life. I have a lot of hair. On my head. And pretty much only on my head. And I am going to make this blog extra long, to spite my only reader. Ha, I can make them longer. I'm not very good at spite-ing. When I first typed that, I said spiting. Which I thought looked too much like spitting, so I decided to spell it that way. Oh, for those (three?) people actually reading, if you would like to be talked about in the third person, without me revealing your identity, because you may or probably would be ashamed if anyone knew you read this blog, leave me a message, and I can talk about you, or pretend to talk about you while actually talking about someone else. Or not. I'd rather you not, because I would like to be able to talk about porn on this blog every once in a while. So the reader who I know reads this, can you not anymore? Because then it would be awkward. Although I suppose you have guessed I watch porn, occasionally. Not really, okay maybe sometimes, every two months, every week, every day, every hour (I have no idea how), every minute.
Silence.
See what happens, when you mention PORN. For some reason, I feel obligated to mention nerds now. I was actually discussing nerds with a female friend of mine, who mentioned that she swallows. Good ole willy wonka. I felt somewhat horny. But coming back reading it, I have to start talking about something else. Umm I think every person in the universe, no america, should get high at least once. Just because I said so. Did you know that the average number of limbs a person has below 4. Well, the mean at least. The median is still 4, but the avg is lower. Just saying. I think sleep causes the brain to do stupid things. like not wear condoms? that doesn't make sense brain. I feel like a train wreck waiting to happen. i wonder if the fbi looks at people's blogs, and for certain phrases like JOHN CHO, OSAMA BIN LADEN TOLD ME THAT WE ARE BOMBING SIX FLAGS, better known as the MAGIC MOUNTAIN SUICIDE BOMBER plan. If so, hi FBI guy.
Anyways, I am tired.
Dead tired.
Like amazingly tired for a mountain hiker.
Bomber. Sleeping.
tired. absolute messes.
a chick needs her space.
always on weekends, and... always.
yawn. touche I go to bed.
So one of the big things in my life, is that I went to this hip-hop underground event, called Trip The Lights. Which was fricken awesome. But I only got to stay until 11. Then my ride came, and I had to go home. But I got to hang out with these really awesome people. I hung out with EK, Opposite, TKO, Obese Jesus in the green room. met big mox. all these awesome dudes from hiphop underground, these guys are sick. But we were there for a beat battle. Which was hosted by Kavet, this really chill dude. and so, it was hosted at rRed Elephant, which is an awesome place to hold an event. just saying. I was supposed to go up and perform 5 minutes actually, but my mom said it "wasn't part of the deal" so I had to go home.
holy crap. okay, I just watched two girls one cup. which is disturbing in its own right. don't watch that. was looking for BME Olympics on google. on the second page, there was a link to freak pics. and on it are the most disgusting vile pictures I have ever seen. I am normally someone with a fairly decent stomach for vulgar and disgusting thinks, but that absolutely topped them all. ugh. I don't know whether or not I should give the link. I will not, but holy crap, I still have a headache from how screwed up I am.
Anyways, I think I shall launch into a Brian-esque post where I talk about random shit. *pause* wait for it. Here it goes. I have a box of powerbars. Powerbars are tasty, and flavorless. An enigma, like Ray Charles. I'm not sure how this fits, but I'm running with it. After I run, I eat powerbars. Sorry, something was flashing in the background, and it was distracting me. Much like it does in real life. I have a lot of hair. On my head. And pretty much only on my head. And I am going to make this blog extra long, to spite my only reader. Ha, I can make them longer. I'm not very good at spite-ing. When I first typed that, I said spiting. Which I thought looked too much like spitting, so I decided to spell it that way. Oh, for those (three?) people actually reading, if you would like to be talked about in the third person, without me revealing your identity, because you may or probably would be ashamed if anyone knew you read this blog, leave me a message, and I can talk about you, or pretend to talk about you while actually talking about someone else. Or not. I'd rather you not, because I would like to be able to talk about porn on this blog every once in a while. So the reader who I know reads this, can you not anymore? Because then it would be awkward. Although I suppose you have guessed I watch porn, occasionally. Not really, okay maybe sometimes, every two months, every week, every day, every hour (I have no idea how), every minute.
Silence.
See what happens, when you mention PORN. For some reason, I feel obligated to mention nerds now. I was actually discussing nerds with a female friend of mine, who mentioned that she swallows. Good ole willy wonka. I felt somewhat horny. But coming back reading it, I have to start talking about something else. Umm I think every person in the universe, no america, should get high at least once. Just because I said so. Did you know that the average number of limbs a person has below 4. Well, the mean at least. The median is still 4, but the avg is lower. Just saying. I think sleep causes the brain to do stupid things. like not wear condoms? that doesn't make sense brain. I feel like a train wreck waiting to happen. i wonder if the fbi looks at people's blogs, and for certain phrases like JOHN CHO, OSAMA BIN LADEN TOLD ME THAT WE ARE BOMBING SIX FLAGS, better known as the MAGIC MOUNTAIN SUICIDE BOMBER plan. If so, hi FBI guy.
Anyways, I am tired.
Dead tired.
Like amazingly tired for a mountain hiker.
Bomber. Sleeping.
tired. absolute messes.
a chick needs her space.
always on weekends, and... always.
yawn. touche I go to bed.
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