rad. --------

April 30, 2003 | 2:33 PM | Link | 0 comments

Access.

I've downloaded a couple of songs from Apple's new music store. They're songs I've always wanted, but didn't want to buy the entire album. I'm happy.

The new iPods look great too. 0.62 inches thick, 5.6 ounces, 30 gigabytes, new customizable interface. My original gangsta 5gb iPod is starting to look terribly dated. Still, I love it as if it were my child.

April 28, 2003 | 5:02 PM | Link | 0 comments

A world unto her own.

"I'd like to get this too. I'll probably end up returning it, but that's okay." The dirty blonde woman yammered on to the Michael's cashier and kept her eyes down in her purse. "I have so many things I need to return. I'm doing a project for my school."

"$12.47, please," droned the cashier with the unfortunate haircut.

"And it is tedious!" She handed the money to the cashier.

"Have a nice day."

I proceeded to help count the numerous pieces of felt I was buying as I wondered about the dirty blonde woman. I wondered if she is always so unaware of her surroundings. I wondered if her students care about what she says as much as I or the cashier or, for that matter, some passer-by on the street with no chance of hearing her would care.

April 28, 2003 | 10:02 AM | Link | 0 comments

Hyper mediocrity.

So, Fischerspooner was okay. I was disappointed that this show was a deconstruction of their previous shows. There were no projections. It was just a black stage with them running around and dancing on it. There certainly were parts of the show I liked, but overall I was left a little nonplussed.

My twin™ and I wore our shirts, and they were a big hit! Many people approached us asking for a close look at them. People gave us hugs and ask to have their picture taken with us. Several people told us it was the greatest thing they'd ever seen. One girl drew hearts in the air and pointed at us. It was quite blissful. Twin Michael and I both decided we enjoyed our shirts more than the show.

Yes, that's piss. Click image to enlarge.

We were both surprised to get zero negative reactions. We thought there would be some people out there who would think it was just plain disgusting and distasteful, but there were not.

I've spend almost every moment since last night thinking what other shirts I can make in this style. I'm thinking of decapitated animals... hmm.

April 27, 2003 | 9:39 AM | Link | 0 comments

When in doubt, drink champagne.

It's a natural law that if I am hung over or otherwise feel I have had too much to drink lately, my dad will offer me alcohol. Case in point: yesterday evening. I, as were all of my friends, had been hung over all day. I got home from work tired and a little nauseous. I sat down with my father to eat dinner, and he offered champagne. I hesitated, then finally said yes. I figured since we have so much of it, it's no shame if a bottle goes unfinished.¹

Champagne makes it all better.

After dinner, my twin™ came over so we could make out shirts to wear to Fischerspooner. We went to Michael's to buy the materials we needed. It was fun running around the store with my twin, making fun of all the crappy merchandise. We bought piles of felt and two youth large white t-shirts.

Mission: Offend

We got to my house and started to draw out ideas. It didn't take long before we came up with the most outrageous, and offensive t-shirt design we could. We're both sure that our design has never been done in all of recorded history. It's fabulous, disgusting, outrageous, simple, and in-your-face. We pondered the possibility of the theatre officials not letting us into the show. I think we'll be fine, so long as some passer-by outside the show decides he wants to tear the shirts off of us and shove it down our throats.

Oh, this is going to be fun!

1. The champagne did not go unfinished.

April 26, 2003 | 10:12 AM | Link | 0 comments

It has survived, and it is infecting the youth of America.

"I'm just here to warn you. that there's going to be a group of kids coming through here in, like, ten minutes." Her words resonated in my skull and quickly took rest in the form of a migraine headache. "Do you guys have anything fun you could show them?"

Fun is not the word that comes to mind, for me, on Bring Your Children to Work day. I have trouble relating to children. I didn't even like them when I was one. Thinking of a way to entertain children is much the same as picturing two snakes devouring each other from the end up. Lucky for me, I didn't have to think of a way. Sara, sweetheart that she is, volunteered I show "some 3D thing [I'm] working on." I obliged.

I brought up the moth I am modeling and set it to a position that I knew would wow the miniature humans. I looked to the left of my desk and realized that prepping my computer was not the only thing needed. I immediately hid my easter basket. I did not want these dirty little children rummaging through my basket with their grabby little hands.

A couple of minutes later, I began to get stage fright. What was I going to say to these kids? How was I to treat them? How was I supposed to tell them I created this moth? I couldn't come up with any good answers to my question, so I fled the scene. I could hear them coming from down the hall. I took refuge in Claudia's office, thinking I was safe.

Before too long, my name was called. They were all huddled around my desk, waiting to be thrilled. My duty was to provide them with the false notion that work is all fun and games. There is no bureaucracy with the moth. There is no red tape in Lightwave. All that exists is me and my moth. I struck gold when I informed them that I was using the same program used to make Jimmy Neutron.

One boy asked if he could try it out. I declined for multiple reasons. All I said was "Sorry, you can't." I felt like a meanie. Sara chimed in to explain that in order to use Lightwave, you have to go to school for a very long time and learn the program. I chuckled silently as I thought about the years I didn't spend in school.

I proceeded to play with my moth. I stretched its mouth into a smile and raised its eyebrow into a smirk. Just as the moth came to life, a little blonde girl exclaimed a word I hoped would die the first time I heard it. In a voice shrouded in utmost certainty and determination, the little girl shouted PHAT. I shuddered at the sound and wept for her future. How could that word have survived? Does Eminem use that word?

The little-boy-who-could (if-he-goes-to-school-for-a-very-long-time) asked me if I could give the moth a runny nose. I decided to humor him since it would only take a few seconds to simulate snot. Alas, at that moment the group was pulled away for their next location. I waved goodbye and imagined a classroom of ten-year-olds incessantly using words like phat and stoopid.

I liked the little boy. He was curious in an enchanting sort of way. I thought of the little girl with the bad vocabulary and worried that she may one day end up at the doorstep of the Girls Gone Wild producer's home, begging to be a regular feature only to be turned down on account of her botched boob job.

It's quite a shame.

April 25, 2003 | 4:40 PM | Link | 0 comments

As it happens

As the man in front of us pulls up to the drive-through window, he veers to the right. He exits his car and stands up at the window. This must be how he always does it. His motions were much too intentional for this to be a one-time thing.

I describe the scene to Furious, who I am talking to on the phone. I explain the peculiar behavior of the man, and I describe his cheap navy blue suit. I felt the suit was an important detail, and the fact that it was cheap was of even more importance. My window is rolled down, and he turns to me for a quick glance. I whisper "I think he heard me," and cover my mouth. I attempt to convince myself I was talking more quietly than I was, and that there was no way for him to have heard me. This doesn't work.

Janelle and I leave the fast-food restaurant en route to her house, where we will relax for the few minutes left before my friend Michael-Michelle's fund-raiser. As we pull up, I decide I do not want to go to her house, but would rather drive aimlessly. I explain that my mood has been quite volatile. Wild mood swings come in 30 second shifts. For the past several days, I have been feeling increasingly angry. Much of this is fueled by my ever-growing intolerance for religion and the belief in anything supernatural.

After much driving, and even more debate, Janelle and I end up at the Eagle. I order a g&t and Janelle orders a screwdriver. I select three songs on the jukebox: Radio Ga Ga, Close to Me, and Pleasure, Little Treasure. The bartender amuses himself with the story of how he shared a joint with Janice Joplin in 1969. He then compares himself to her, and ponders why he didn't die too. He concludes that he lived because he wasn't doing all the acid she was. He lets me taste two different whiskeys, and Janelle and I leave the bar.

I realize I accidentally left him a $13 tip on a $6 order.

By the time we get to The Flame, my buzz has started to ascend. My mood is stabilizing, but perhaps in the wrong area. I see Furious, who is infuriatingly fabulous, by the way. He's wearing a favorite hat that I have not seen in a while. I smile. Inside the bar, Janelle buys me another g&t. We watch the hilarious drag queens perform, and visit with old friends and new friends. All is good.

We leave The Flame. I drop Janelle off at home, and proceed to Jonah's house. I look out over the San Diego night, and my love affair with the smallest big city is rekindled. It really is a wonderful place to live. I contemplate ditching my plans to eventually move to New York, but quickly dismiss the thought. A change of scenery will do me good.

Cesar, in all his thoughtfulness, has an extremely potent mix of vodka, cranberry juice, and lime peel awaiting my arrival. I accept it with open arms. I sip. I wince. My ability to remember the events of the night is slowly torn away. For some reason, I urge Jonah to join me in drunken sit-ups. He agrees. We sit up multiple times.

Sometime later, we arrive at Electroluxe. I order another g&t. I run into twin Michael™, whose outfit is flawless. I urge him to ask out hot bartender Andrew. I want Michael to date Andrew as badly as I want Furious to date Kari.

My drink gets spilled. Andrew pours me another.

We go to a fast food restaurant, and annoy the little man in the speaker. Loud noises emanate from the back seat. False orders are blurted out then retracted. Jonah asks the little man to pardon our behavior. I fear they will cum in our food.

They did not cum in our food.

We get back to Jonah's place where we chow down our grub. Our conversation travels to deformed sperm. I cause a long, painful session of laughter by pointing out that by looking at deformed sperm you can tell it won't be good at track and field.

I leave Jonah's house en route to my cozy, comfy bed. Twin Michael™ calls my cell. We laugh a lot. I inform him of the ratio of cool and uncool people surrounding him. I walk into my house. I check my email. I fall asleep.

April 25, 2003 | 12:56 PM | Link | 0 comments

Lessons from the fast life.

April 21, 2003 | 4:01 PM | Link | 0 comments

Poor Stevie. --------

Poor Stevie.

April 17, 2003 | 1:51 PM | Link | 0 comments

Spiced Ham?

Silently, you come
Unwanted and unneeded
Teenage Asian Sluts

The other day, I got my first-ever spam email message to my personal email account. I am very protective of it. I guess after a long period of time, I just became too comfortable. I must have slipped up somehow.

Appropriately, the same day my virgin email address lost its precious flower, Maccentral published this story.

Three cheers for the little guy!

April 17, 2003 | 12:46 PM | Link | 0 comments

Prayer

"Our Mother, who art in heaven. Deliver me from weak and stupid politicians."

April 16, 2003 | 4:22 PM | Link | 0 comments

That was me last

That was me last night. It was so much fun... I like a bit of danger.

I'm really sore now, though.

April 16, 2003 | 11:46 AM | Link | 0 comments

Hyper-activities

For the past few weeks, I have been running on a seemingly endless supply of fuel. I've been working late hours at the office, taking on numerous new projects, and inventing my own projects to fill what little free time I have.

I'm not quite sure where it came from, this love affair with my work, but I do hope it lasts.

I'm a bit frustrated right now, because I have to model a certain type of moth in LightWave to use in an ad I'm creating. I'm not so good with intricate organic modeling, but I must do it. I've scoured the net for good, detailed images of the Fall Armyworm (spodoptera frugiperda, if you're so inclined). I've had to settle for good, detailed images of just any old moth.

I'll just procrastinate. That will make all of my problems disappear.

I'm going to head home in a few minutes to take a quick nap before heading off to my gymnastics lesson. I hope this week I do good. I only had one small advancement last week; I was too worn out by my workaholism to muster the energy needed for a proper uphill circle. It can't always be smooth sailing.

April 15, 2003 | 5:02 PM | Link | 0 comments

Friday

Friday was a boys night out. Cesar, Jonah, and I went to Bourbon Street for drinks and giggles. I had eaten two dinners, so my G&Ts were having trouble affecting me in the way they so desired. The place wasn't as crowded as usual, which I considered a good thing.

A few minutes into our drinks, I looked over and spotted Wes (the guy I met long ago on straight night at Club Montage, but never ended up dating). He was looking gorgeous, as always; raising funds, and getting drunk. I walked over to him and bought some raffle tickets. We chatted and joked with each other. We reiterated the fact that we need to call each other; we need to go on a real date.

After the clock had turned, and patrons made their way towards Bourbon Street's exit signs, Cesar, Jonah, and I went to Rich's (a club I only find fun with the right company). Wes had also taken his talents there, and was charming his way through so many charitable donations. I still hadn't found a buzz from my previous G&T, so I decided on getting a couple more. It would not be until 1:45, when the club closed, (remember, this is San Diego) that I finally felt artificial happiness.

Outside the club, everyone seemed to be looking for an afterparty, and after much inquiring, Cesar found one. I was happy enough to go along with anyone's plan... provided there would be a lavatory at my disposal. Wes and his buddies decided to follow us to this mystery place that had been agreed upon.

We all caravanned there, and got out of our cars. We were told that the people who were going to host the afterparty had decided against it, and had gone to E Street Alley. I turned around to inform Wes of the news, to find a girl and her boyfriend bickering with Wes and his friend. The girl squabbled in a tone that left me confused as to whether or not she was serious, or just kidding. I only remember snippets of her argument:

"Um, we're boycotting the French!.."
"Hello! Gucci!" she screeched as she held high her predictable handbag, "five-hundren dollars!"

She seemed to feel that Gucci made her an intelligent person—that any point she makes is suddenly valid because she has one expensive item in her wardrobe. At this point, I thought this surely must have been playful banter, and was about to exclaim "Oh really? Let me have a look at that 'Guccci' bag of yours." Before I opened my mouth, I realized I should confirm my assumption with Wes.

"Is she for real?" I asked.
"Yeah, she's for real."

I rolled my eyes and proceeded to walk away, but not before hearing her threaten our physical well-being by means of her boyfriend. As she said, twelve gay guys will always lose a fight with one straight guy. Sister, please!

—I've never understood the pointless aggression that makes a person actually want to fight. I fail to understand the pseudo-logic behind it.—

When that dispute was all settled (with her boyfriend only actually trying to pick a fight once we all had gotten in our cars and started driving away) Cesar, Jonah, and I retired to Jonah's place. Wes left his crew behind and joined us for the rest of the evening. I, still not satisfied with the buzz I had acquired, started downing apple pucker and watermelon schnapps... I know, I know... I didn't really have another option.

Cesar started cruising the gay end of the cyber world, and got the rest of us involved too. "There are four of us here," he told one poor soul, "Two of us want to fuck, and the other two want to watch." Playing dumb, Cesar gave the man our address, and seemed shocked when the guy logged off.

By the time the man arrived, Wes had crashed with his head on my lap, and I was nearly asleep myself. I answered the door and let the man in. Cesar was frozen to the computer screen. He refused to turn around and greet the man he had invited into our night. Jonah offered him water, which he drank over an embarrassed silence. Jonah thanked him for coming over, but gently turned him down. He took it fine, and left. In any case, it seemed like an incredibly efficient way to get laid, though I'm much too chicken to utilize such a system.

After the departure of the not-so-tricky trick, Jonah and Cesar went to bed, and Wes and I fell to sleep on the futon. It was really nice waking up to him. We cuddled. I smiled. I admired his hair... it still looked great after a drunk night out and a deep slumber on the futon.

After some conversation, Wes and I left Jonah's and went our separate ways. I got home and slept in for the rest of the morning. I'm looking forward to spending more time with him.

April 13, 2003 | 8:00 PM | Link | 0 comments

My socks don't match my

My socks don't match my outfit, and I have a flat tire.

I'm going to go get a new tire, but I'm not going to change my socks.

April 11, 2003 | 9:46 AM | Link | 0 comments

Why would anybody want to kill the cook? Dinner wasn't that bad.

Where is my energy coming from these days? This whole eating right and exercising thing does wonders to one's stamina!

Last night, I surprised myself by running quadruple the length I was able to run only two weeks ago (of course it was the sight of a cute boy off yonder that got me to run that last lap). I drove the 1.5 blocks home from my run (yes, I drive 1.5 blocks to the park where I run) and took a very cold shower to bring my body back to a cool 98.6° F.

Twin Michael arrived with movies is hand. We hopped over to Whole Foods for some epicurial inspiration. We settled on jumbo scallops, ahi tuna, and some salad stuffs. I made a dinner that was almost fabulous. I thinly sliced the seared ahi steak over a bed of arugula, asparagus, and sugar-snap peas. The sauce was a reduction of sesame oil, brandy, and soy sauce. It would have been abfab had I remembered not to burn everything. It was just a trial; my first time searing tuna. I assure you, the next time I make it, it will be divine!

We watched The Sweetest Thing, which was surprisingly funny. Christina Applegate needs to be cast in more roles. Parker Posey was a definite plus.

After the movie, we ran up to my computer to take some glamor shots for twin Michael's new blog design. It was so high-fashion (or high something). We picked out a couple, and I started playing with colors. I was going for fire—hot; I wanted his site to have an edgier design. The new design suits him much better. He deserves a pretty site to match his pretty words.

Before I realized it, it was 1:40 in the morning. I seriously felt like it was 11 at the latest. I guess I just got swept away.

One of these days I'll actually get around to redesigning my own site, but until then, you'll just have to deal, yo. Word.

April 8, 2003 | 1:56 PM | Link | 0 comments

Mmm. Breakfast. Last time

Mmm. Breakfast.

Last time I was in New York, I didn't get to eat at White Castle. That is not going to happen this time!

April 8, 2003 | 10:18 AM | Link | 0 comments

"Mesmerized by Fox's reality show

"Mesmerized by Fox's reality show Married by America? Then consider this reality: Not one same-sex couple, no matter how many decades they've been together, has a fraction of the rights that two strangers will get when they say 'I do' on this TV program."

— Lisa Bennet, The Advocate

April 5, 2003 | 10:44 PM | Link | 0 comments

So, I'm not going to

So, I'm not going to edit the post below. Partly because it's a true monument to how drunk I was last night, and partly because I have too bad a headache to want to deal with it. I re-read it after posting and saw the extraordinary amount of typos. I also realized that two of the three links were malformed. It had taken me such a long time to write what I had, I just gave up.

Moving on, the rest of the night was fab.

Cesar, Jonah, and I met up with Furious and Janelle at electroluxe. Twin Michael, Jo(h)n, Jon, and Acea arrived shortly after that. Furious got me the Sapphire and Tonic that totally put me over the edge.

W.I.T. performed, and they were great! I missed their performance at Luxx by a few minutes last time I was in New York, so it was gratifying to see them. It took me back. It made me happy.

After the club let out, we hopped over to Jo(h)n's place where we all laughed and talked and laughed and talked (and smoked pot, of course). Will I become a pothead? No. I just needed a release. I needed a night to let it all go. Even though I feel like total shit this morning, I am in a great mood.

I think I'll go to the beach.

April 4, 2003 | 10:20 AM | Link | 0 comments

Of alchohol, film, and friends

Not too long ago, I was againt the making of new friends. That has changed.

Here I am, sitting in Loveley Johna and Morcos' home watching Heathers (which is absolutley i>fabulous when you've downed a few vodka shots).

I've wanted to speak about it for a ling time, and I do not know why I have not. I've made many new friends in the last year or so. I've grown out of my shell. I appreciate them all so much.

Dear John (or Furious, as he prefers to be known), who I will be meeting up with in mere minutes, is one if the most wonderful individuals I have ever met. Twin Micheal has better taste than anyone I have evere met. Talk about attention to deatil! He has taught me that there is a definite difference between an anal retentive disorder and a sheer appreciation for the smaller things in life. I love all the people I have met so much.

I am so drunk, it has taken me a very long time to write this post. I must end on this note, and I promise a re-wite for tomorrow (I am writing this on a Windows machine, so I don't have the wonderful unbersal spell-check that Mac OS X allows me. My point to this whole post is that I love everyone who has affected me. That includes the fellow bloggers I have met in the last few months. I love you all.

Oh, and Anydy, your Cadbury Creme Eggs are on their way. I almost posted about what an ordeal that shipment was, but I just had to get past it, knowing that the post office closest to my home is a crap-hole from hell.

Love.

April 3, 2003 | 9:17 PM | Link | 0 comments

It's what the internet is there for.

If you are in the office, look around you before clicking these links.

Ew, and ewer.

April 2, 2003 | 12:30 PM | Link | 0 comments

Romanticism; Objectivism; Reality.

"Do you believe in God, Andrei?"

"No."

"Neither do I. But that's a favorite question of mine. An upside-down question, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if I asked people whether they believed in life, they'd never understand what I meant. It's a bad question. It can mean so much that it really means nothing. So I ask them if they believe in God. And if they say they do — then, I know they don't believe in life."

"Why?"

"Because, you see, God — whatever anyone chooses to call God — is one's highest conception of the highest possible. And whoever places his highest conception above his own possibility thinks very little of himself and his life. It's a rare gift, you know, to feel reverence for your own life and to want the best, the greatest, the highest possible, here, now, for your very own."

— Ayn Rand, We the Living

April 2, 2003 | 11:28 AM | Link | 0 comments

Now. More than before!

Ladies and Gentlemen and all in between, it is with great pleasure that I present the new home of twin Michael, Homolame-o.

Enjoy.