french kiss(off).

have you ever noticed that when you have a bad experience with sumthin or someone everything you come across seems to remind you of that bad thing. well, she's from france.

weekly wtf - my president is a fucking ninja!

so while last week was a tough call on what should make the weekly wtf, this week was absolutely NO contest. i'm sure everyone has seen this footage of soon to be ex-president bush getting moccasins hurled at him. this is the funniest shit that i've seen since star jones did that interview talking about how she shed that extra person she was carrying around by eating salad. riiiiight star. but, being the observant fellow that i am, getting the ninja shoes of death thrown at you is not nearly enough to earn the distinction of appearing in my blog. so what has earned baby bush this honor, you ask?

one, for someone who has tried and failed on countless occasions to throw a baseball 60 feet without skipping the fucking thing across the ground like a rock in huck finn, this dude dodged those damn shoes like he was auditioning to be neo's dad in the prequel to the matrix.

second, WHERE THE FUCK WAS THE SECRET SERVICE!?!? those cats must have been up for a damn week smoking that iraqi goodness! i didn’t see one of them show up until both shoes were thrown (homeboy had to reach down and take the second one off, mind you), and some REPORTERS tackled the assailant. if that doesn't convince you that everybody is done with mr. bush i don't know what will. And THEY WERE SHOES PEOPLE! i'm no physicist, but i'm pretty sure bullets travel faster. get on your jobs fellas.

third, all i could think about after was obama on the phone getting the names of every last agent on that detail to make sure none of those motherfuckers got within 100 miles of protecting his black ass.

i loooove l.a. (not really. but this was almost worth the trip.)

so one of my childhood friends and i have been working on hanging out for a minute now, but to no avail. she's in showbiz down here in lala land (of course) so she's been too busy for her little buddy that she used to let glue dry on her hands with. but at last she invited me to a little soirée that she was attending so that we could hang out, catch up, all that jazz. so i get the invite, don't think much of it, i'm just excited to get to see big al after all these years. (small footnote: my friend is gorgeous. which is only applicable when mixed with being in los angeles, and apparently i should have guessed sumthin like this was going to happen.)

she tells me that the shindig is at "this guy’s house." again, i don't think much of it at the time, just figuring that this is some friend with a nice place that she's borrowing for the night. so i get to the spot and it turns out to be a pretty substantially pimped out pad. yawn. panoramic view of l.a. double yawn. art from the l'oeuvre, pictures of him and some of the biggest celebrities of all time. triple yawn. ok, i'm lying. all this shit was impressive. it made me rethink girls getting randomly sexed up by c-listers. i mean, this guy was 80-years-old and if he would have agreed to pay my rent for a few months we might have been able to work sumthin out.

all that being said, it was still just a house with a view and some cool pictures. but the next thing i know this guy is talking about a date that he went on when he was younger, with a girl by the name of marilyn monroe. MARILYN MONROE!?!? are you serious???? which i would have certainly thought was a load of crap except for the fact that he had a picture of him and lana turner having drinks. so yeah, i mostly can't describe how fucking cool it was to be in the presence of someone who had been in the presence of marilyn. all i can really say is that shaking his hand made me somehow feel as though i was touching...well, it was fucking cool.

ummm. errrr. uuhhhh.

did ricky martin come out of the closet, and i missed it? last i heard he was trying to convince people that he was hopelessly in love with this beautiful, giant-sized, spanish blonde...who was, let's be real, a little on the masculine side. i saw an interview with the two of them once, and never for a second doubted that if they were really together, ricky was livin' la vida loca at the business end of her strap-on while he washed the dishes. so anyway, fast-forward to today and he's on the cover of spanish people magazine holding his twins without a mother in sight. now when was the last time you saw a famous doting father on the cover of a magazine with his newborns, and the baby mama was nowhere to be found? hell, didn't britney and kevin even do a spread together?

so i do a little investigation, cause i'm about giving me faithful readers the down and dirty details, and i find out that these little latin l'efants (sorry, ninos doesn't start with an 'L'.) were born to a surrogate mother. seriously!?!? ricky, can i call you ricky? you want me to believe that not only were you madly in love with some hot spanish dominatrix, who according to you, you couldn't be with for some mysterious reason. but now you're telling me that you couldn't find some chick willing to have your babies without a contract? come on man, I KNOW 10 GIRLS WHO WOULD HAVE YOUR BABIES! you mean to tell me that you don't know a few???? so all this leads me back to my original point, did ricky come out of the closet and i missed it. it's cool ricky. we'll all still love your little hip swivel, even if you're gay. (oooopps! i just threw up in my mouth a little.) just stop lying to me!

weekly wtf - video edition!

so it's been a doozy of week already, and it got me thinking about what to do for this installment of weekly wtf. i mean i had planes killing families in their home, moms throwing "hooker parties" and having their sixteen-year-old daughters as the appetizer, and one of the more mundane but nevertheless newsworthy stories or the week, a governor selling a senate seat in order to get his wife on tv or some shit. with all of these tasty morsels to choose from i decided to go another way. one word: oprah. two words: oprah's fat ass is fat again. (ok, that's like five words.) so the weekly wtf is this: how in the hell is oprah getting fat (again) newsworthy. and not just newsworthy but HEADLINE newsworthy. i pulled this from CNN's homepage for god's sake. granted, a friend of mine would point out that CNN reports on britney spears too, but come on. the woman has been fat her whole life. i'm SURE she was a fat ass baby. sometimes she's less fat, but still...always...fat. let's stop being surprised by the obvious people. until then, enjoy ms. winfery in her 1980's splendor. love those pants girl! there's even a little tina and cher for all my queens out there!

fat. skinny. fat. skinny. it's like a jenny craig flip book!

if it's good enough for the kids on 90210...

so there's sumthin like 3 billion people in the world right. and being that i'm a hopeless romantic i believe that there is only one of them that is truly the right one for me. that girl who i'm going to meet and just know on the very first date that she is the one i want to spend the rest of my life with, raise a beautiful family with, and share all of the world’s blessings with. that said, i also believe that there are about 500,000 girls that could give me a really amazing orgasm...i'm just saying!

having come to this realization i really don't see what the big issue is about dating a girl whose friend you've dated. i mean, the girls i date are pretty. it follows then that they have pretty friends. which leads to a high probability that i would be interested in dating them as well. i really don't see what the big deal is. my friends are more than welcome to help themselves to any of my discarded slags. i'll even tell them which ones like a little scoop in the poop. (that was gross. i apologize.) but seriously, this thing we call life is about trying to be happy right? and while i don't believe in trying to reach said happiness by any means necessary or anything, i do think that we owe it to each other to lend a helping hand and give our friends a little "vaya con dios" if they wanna bang our ex's. i mean if i want to get at your friend there is a pretty good chance that...i'm just not that into you. :)

besides, this thing about completely de-animalizing (not a word) ourselves is such a crock! at our essence we're just monkeys with clothes. and since that is a biological fact, my personal belief is to stop pulling the wool over our own eyes and realize that this whole "you dated me so all my friends are off limits" shit just isn't natural. i mean, papa bears run through ALL the mama bears in their hood. why is it so "ugly" for me to do it?

weekly wtf - maybe try skipping the nagging this week.

i know you need to vent. i know you think we're not worth a damn anyway. i know you believe that you're stronger than we are. but maybe, just maybe consider the fact that the last thing we think about before we leap from the bridge is you asking us for the 15,000th time if those pants make your ass look big. get a fucking clue...of course it does!

just a thought.

i wanna teach!

so this blog is kind of about two things. actually not "kind of" it is about two things. i'm taking the CBEST this weekend. which for those of you who have had real careers your whole life is the...shit, i don't remember what the letters stand for, but it's the test you have to take if you want to be a teacher in cali or oregon. so yeah, i'm taking it, because from time to time i'm struck by the urge to mess up little kids’ minds. i'm not studying or anything because i run around telling people how smart i am all the time, so i figured i should be able to pass this shit without studying. and if in the horrible event i don't pass, i will definitely reconsider telling people how smart i am in the future. so there's that.

the other thing that this blog is about is dudes hitting on girls. now i don't profess to be some don juan or anything, i have definitely come to realize in the last couple weeks that my "game" is pretty weak, and if i didn't happen to look like this i definitely wouldn't be able to convince anyone to date me just because i was charming and funny. but i do at least pride myself on not dropping any pitiful ass cornball lines on women when i talk to them. that is, i don't think they're pitiful or cornball.

so anyway, i'm at the gym last night and i see this girl who is incredible looking. which isn't that big a deal, considering i work out at a gym in L.A. that is famous for being a meat market...which i imagine is difficult status to acquire in L.A...or not. but this girl in particular is pretty damn amazing. blonde (i don't even like blondes), maybe 5'9", golden brown skin (but not overcooked), and she has one of the most perfect boob jobs i've ever seen. they're just fake enough so that she can wear this red backless halter top with no bra, but not fake enough that the boobs look like she mugged the ball girl at Wimbledon and tried to hide the evidence in her shirt. so short story long, she's hot. she disappears for a while, and as i'm leaving i see her sitting with her girlfriend in the front of the gym, no doubt trying to get noticed, and it works. except not in the way she intended. so this guy comes up to her/them, and he is one of the dorkiest guys i've seen in a while. late thirties, crazy long frizzy hair, body of guy who was making his first trip to the gym, you get the idea. so let me be clear, i give him credit for even talking to this girl, cause i know i wasn’t going to, but the next thing i know i hear him say, "hey, you guys come here often?" WHAT!?!?! SERIOUSLY!?!? i was a half second from grabbing this fucker for a regroup. the look on the girls' faces was like "huh, did you really just waste your time saying that to us...AND you look like that?" couldn't believe it! so yeah, as i laughed all the way home, i considered starting a school for cats who have even less game than me.

(winter) cleaning.

so i'm sitting on the toilet yesterday, and i begin to look around (cause i'm a curious sort of fellow), and i notice a few long strands of hair on the floor. upon closer examination i realize that the hairs are not all from the same person. four different types in all.

my first thought, "man, i hope none of the owners of this hair happened to detect that some of these hairs weren't theirs. my second thought, "good thing i don't date blondes, or i'd probably have a lot of explaining to do by now." my third thought, "i should clean."