A Letter of Disdain

This is from our custodian (aka our slave) to us:

To the guys on this floor.

You can't leave your personal items in the shower, nor in the bathroom unless you have your personal items in the bins.

Please cooperate with your custodian, she is only doing her job. The custodian has nothing personal against you, there are rules to go by and we have to follow the rules also intructions given to us by our supervisor.

If you don't cooperate with your custodian then our supervisor will send me over here to remove your personal items and bring it to his office.

My name is Willa and i have no problem removing your personal items. So if your personal items is remove don't get angry with your custodian, get angry with me because i will do what my supervisor says do. If you want to speak to me I'm in entry way C of Bingham.

Thank you for your cooperation, also for understand. May god richly bless you.

Sincerely your assistant,

Custodian Willa

PS I'm the shoe lady! I took your shoes and I will take your personal items to our supervisor's office.

*END*

So, being the Yalie that i am, i couldn't help but pick out the grammatical errors:

1) "You can't leave your personal items...nor in the bathroom" - double negative
2) "...there are rules to go by" - dangling preposition
3) "...we have to follow the rules also intructions given to us..." - missing conjuction
4) "so if your personal items is..." - verb/noun agreement
5) "if your personal items is remove don't get..." - wrong tense
6) "...i will do what my supervisor says do." - missing infinitive
7) "...for your cooperation, also for understand." - ?? it just sounds wrong

FINAL GRADE: -C, some credit was given for a comprehensive level literacy and writing ability. please see me after class, or see your writing tutor.

The finishing touch on her letter was: "I'M THE SHOE LADY!! I TOOK YOUR SHOES AND I WILL TAKE YOUR PERSONAL ITEMS..." what she left out of her letter, however, was:

"I WILL TAKE YOUR PERSONAL ITEMS (BECAUSE MY BABY DADDIES LEFT ME WITH 4 KIDS AND A CARDBOARD BOX, AND WE NEED SOAP FOR DINNER AND FOR WASHING OUR CLOTHES IN THE NEW HAVEN MUD PUDDLES)..."

anyway, our room never had its shoes stolen. that was another room upstairs. secondly, i stole the dumb bitch's broom...and i'm leaving a note on our door that says:

"P.S. I'M THE BROOM MAN!!"

anyway, i'm out...it's clubbin in NYC tonite.

-The Broom Man-

quotable quotes...

LC on not having any pants: "i'm fuckin' outta here...now that i have pants..."

Froggy is a tramp. he's been around the block. he's like the neighborhood bike: everyone gets a ride.

Wow. two, drunk future roomies...one horny asian...a little alcohol and a lot of hormones = triple kiss in the shower. yes. triple kiss.

believe it.

first things first...

I AM NOT GOING TO WRITE IN MY BLOG IF PEOPLE ARE NOT GOING TO:

a) PERFORM SEXUAL FAVORS, FREE OF CHARGE
b) SIGN MY TAG BOARD
c) LEAVE MESSAGES ON MY POSTS

please choose two of the following options, otherwise, writing in my blog will be futile.

as fun as it is to write, i would like to see more human interfacing, ERGO MORE HUMAN INTERACTION.

otherwise, what is the point of having a blog? i could write in my own PERSONAL journal...which, i might consider doing now.

fuck you all.

much love :)

life suddenly is worth living...and paying for...

"WOW. oh my god...i don' believe."

i am fucking finished with my math midterm!! phew! i think i did okay...lots of sinusoids and arc log cabins and finding areas of planes and all that shit.

i went to a housing meeting today to find out how housing works. it doens't make any sense, but i hope to get a good room...but i don't know who to blow yet...

this weekend is gonna be off the heezy: clubbing in NYC at Roxy, skiing in Mt. Snow, 10 person orgy in Silliman...could it get any better???

what really blows is that i have a shit load of chinese homework, and not enough motivation to do it...at least there are only 7 more school days until spring break, and SKI SANTA FE (and N8 and Kate Spade...) i am so excited...just for everything...no worries...hakuna matata.

while discussing hot kinkyness with bookie (let's just say she was taking notes), i suddently discovered my calling in life: romance novels. i am planning on writing out a story line of a melodramatic tale between a group of friends and a senior citizen...look for it in stores, 2006. JK ROWLING...HERE I CUMM!!!!

so, here's a little bit for starters:

it was her first time to see him since they were last together...his room...silk sheets...skin against skin...the memories would never leave her.

she bit her bottom lip, just thinking about her session with him last night, and finally mustered up the courage to knock on his door. within a matter of seconds, the door slowly widened by an unseen force, and as the breeze from the room surrounded her, she could smell him...the raw, musty sex of her lover...

as she laid eyes upon him, she tried to remain calm, but her palms remained a bit moist as she gazed into his black eyes...deeper than the sky at night, endless like the ocean blue...and glanced at his tresses of dark brown hair that subtly danced in the air, as if excited by her presense. his acquiline nose stood out, complimenting his strong jaw line and brown goutee; she let out a faint breath and was suddenly taken into another realm of pure passion...she could not control herself...her thoughts...her feelings...all that was roused by her lover was raw sensuous pleasure that she could feel from the inside out.

"...i've been waiting," he said. his voice brought her back into reality, as she shook her head, trying to regrasp her consciousness. as soon as she recuperated, she felt the heat of his palms on her. from his hand to her shoulders, she studied the rich physique of his biceps...foreharms...but before she knew it, her back was against the wall in his room.

the quick pain she felt on her back from the impact meant nothing, as she stared at him...he at her...one on one, like a reflection in the mirror, they gazed at one another....their lips locked for a gentle start, and before she knew it, it was a tango of the tongues as they ravenously kissed...it was as if his mouth was a starving child and she was the food he had waited for...

she ripped off his shirt with unbridled heat and he grabbed her soft, tender breast. he was rough on her, but the mixture of the pain was no match for the pleasure she felt inside. all she wanted was to feel him inside of her...that's all she wanted.

still locking lips in a holy palmers kiss, she moved back, as her eyes squinted and a minute yelp escaped from her lips, "...more..." she whispered..."give me more..." he understood the command, and with one sweeping movement, he reached under her knees with his arms, supporting her back, and flung her onto the couch just a few steps away.

"is that enough for you?" he grunted, as he straddled on her lap, and shoved his right hand down her pants and over her crotch. the pleasure was unbearable for her...but her scream was muffled by his hand, as his moist lips caressed the back of her ear, from the back, following her jaw line, and lower her to collar bone...she was in a dimension she never though existed, full of firey ecstasy and burning lust...

Part II will be coming shortly...

OMG...put me to sleep, Dr. Kevorkian...

ok. so its 4 fucking 17 in the morning...and i have realized how FUCKING FUCKED i am. I AM SO GODDAMN FUCKED RIGHT NOW, it hurts to even think about it. my day was completely (fudge)packed with shit!!...(gross...that came out really badly...)

i woke up...went to chinese...ate lunch and took a shower...went to mechanical engineering...went to independent study...went to the library...went to a math review session...went to dinner...killed a puppy...went back to my room...finished study of the city population charts and bibliography...AND i managed to study a teensy weensy bit of math...i'm talking bapple teensy weensy, mind you, so let's just say that it wasn't very much.

...best part...tomorrow is going to be even worse. i have my Study of the City paper due and a math midterm on Wednesday...not to mention shit loads of chinese.

but who am i kidding? i just remembered. its stresses like these that keep me going--they keep me excited, plantonically speaking of course...the adrenaline rush...the energy...the lack of sleep; I, Joe Afinyanafongs, am a Yale Varsity Studier. it is my gift...it is my curse...

i am soo excited for rooming next semester in the G-Spot...this year, i had the V-spot...and next year, if we are lucky, i'll be livin in the G-spot with the illiest gang evah to hit the east coast...TIIIGHT...tighter than Sawah's you know (t)whaaaat....

a few bothersome notes:
yale's latest creation, Yale Today, has made itself my biggest pet peeve. aside from being a direct manifestation of how "high school" my school can be, it includes polls in the "voting booth" section with such topics and riveting questions as:
*Hottest girl in the freshman class
*No...really...the hottest girl in the freshman class
*The OFFICIAL hottest girl in the freshman class
*The hottest Guys
*Biggest Eurotrash
*Who should take over the world and beat fags?
*Who's the biggest whore in Farnham?
*Who should just come out of the closet?

Some of these topics are earth-shaterringly mind blowing...they really get you to think, especially "Who should take over the world and beat fags?" it's such a poetic question, that not only stirs the mind, but also the soul in the emotion it is able to conjure...the faint acquiesense of the vowels against the harsh consonance of "fag" is inspirational...so tense and yet so beautiful.

actually, WHO THE FUCK ASKS SUCH A DUMB FUCKING QUESTION.

biggest whore in farnham? who should just come out of the closet? tacky as it may seem, yale has done it this time. i hope that people have their kicks and their good fun...b/c it is at the expense of others. FUN is always FUN...and i'm the least PC person to exist on this planet, but to create a public poll for public mockery of a single person or person(s) is not cool...that's what we did in high school.

grow the fuck up.

and, as i told Mr. Davies, if the purpose of the site is to make money through advertisers, maybe he and his friends should rememeber: FAGS HAVE MONEY, TOO.

...i know...its really late...(late, in this context, connotating the literal word: "early")

...by the way, is it "connoting" or "connotating"...and did i spell it right?

some yalie who reads my blog oughtta be able to figure that out.

anyway, i was so recently dubbed by Froggy to be "Prurient" as in, "My new nick name is Prurient Joe." This name was conjured after he noticed my unnatural obsession and fascination with the blood orange, as i proceeded to tenderly peel the lustful fruit, and comment with passionate seduction on the juxtoposition of colors...the crimsons against the yellow hues...it was HOT...i tell ya...FRIGGIN HOT. but now, berkeley is out of them. shit.

so here is a quick def of prurient before i go to bed. if you feel this word great defines my character as a person and/or robotic being, please tag the board or leave a little comment on this post.

DICTIONARY
Main Entry: pru·ri·ent
Pronunciation: -&nt
Function: adjective
Etymology: L prurient-, pruriens, present participle of prurire to itch, crave; akin to Latin pruna glowing coal, Sanskrit plosati he singes, and probably to Latin pruina hoarfrost -- more at FREEZE
: marked by or arousing an immoderate or unwholesome interest or desire; especially : marked by, arousing, or appealing to unusual sexual desire
- pru·ri·ent·ly adverb

THESAURUS
Entry Word: prurient
Function: adjective
Text: Synonyms LUSTFUL 2, concupiscent, goatish, *horny, hot, lascivious, libidinous, lickerish, passionate, satyric
Related Word bawdy, erotic, lewd; sensual

by the way, bookie doesn't care to care about me. fuck you.

...quote for the day...

in the wise words of Juvey:

"A friend to everyone is a friend to no one."

...think about this comment, who it applies to, and get back to me in a bit...

...can we forget about the things i said when i was drunk...i didn't mean to call you that

well, two mildly misleading characteristics of the following open statement:

I wasn't drunk, and i'm not sorry for whatever i said, SO F YOU ALL. anyway, my night in a nut shell...

2:30 Wake up
3:00 Shower
3:30 A hit of X
4:00 Three more hits of X
5:30 Dinner with L-W kids and only one last hit of X, and a line of coke
7:00 Musical reenactments with Mattack
8:00 Cheesey's play, starring Cheesey as A SLUTTY ASS WHORE and Stef as, well, himself...hehehe
10:00 Pregaming, in which i was not pregaming, with Ramma, Chers and Sars...and little pow-wowing and potato chips...
11:30 Vandy...which SUCKED and was out of 1) Free sex 2) jello shots 3) handcuffs 4) orthotricyclin
11:45 A Duke's Man's b-day partaaaay in Morse, with Mattack and Rachee
1:00 Party gets busted (apparently, table dancing is a liability...)
1:30 Yorkside with an eclectic gang of pizza-eating whore mongerers...
2:00 Mattacks room with two of "da doox", which included 1) birthday strip shows, only for the priveleged 2) Aida sung by the spice girls 3) chinese gossip 4) cunnilingus
3:30 Finally...some major sleepage...

So...that was my eventful night in a nut shell that went from sleeping back to sleeping in a matter of 12 hours...isn't that amazing?? it was all good fun...but there are a few minor details which i had to leave out, not out of respect for myself, but out of respect for them. imagine that? i'm not being selfish!!

So, song for the day, that i think a few of us will be able to relate with:
"...heard it all before (heard it all before~), all of your lies! all of your sweet talk, baby this, baby that! but your lies ain't working now (now!) LOOK WHO'S HURTIN' NOW, see i had to shut you down, i HAD TO SHUT YOU DOWN!!..."

today is such a bootiful day, but i didn't wake up until 3:00...and pretty much just pissed my day away. here's all the shit that i gotta get done:
1) check my chinese homework
2) order my skiing stuff
3) study for my math midterm on wednesday (which...might i add, will be my FIRST midterm b/c I'VE NEVER HAD A MIDTERM BEFORE...i hope it doesn't hurt too much...)
4) memorize chinese characters
5) study of the city reading...which i probably will not even read...(and by probably, i mean just "i will not read")
6) study of the city rough/draft-ish type paper...(which isn't even due till tuesday, HAH!)

i have finally discovered my stand on random hookups and one night stands:
thanks to the help and guidance of Meims, i have realized:
A) when it comes to random hookups, all you are REALLY doing is sharing saliva with a potentially gross person (it's "potentially gross" b/c once you sober up...)...and if you do any thing more than that, it's even grosser, cus its just sweaty limbs, alcoholic breath, and that really sour smell that saliva makes on your skin after being rubbed...yeah--gross, isn't it??
B) when it comes to being lonely and wanting a significant other, you'll come to realize that even with your beau or your babe, you'll STILL FEEL LONELY and you'll realize that loneliness isn't anyone else's fault but yourself. that's why, apparently, god gave man and woman the gift of, not fire, but masturbation. (<--that one's for your bookie!!)

so, those are my profound words for the day.

much love to the flower lady. PEACE!

...O the Glory Days...

whats up all you dumb whores? yesterday was a really fucking busy day...but i got to catch up with a bunch of people, and see how the rest of the world was rockin it while i was out...i don't really know what i mean by "out", its not like i left any where, but i certainly haven't been in L-dub for while.

so i tried to wake up in the morning at 6 to finish studying...i knew that wouldn't happen considering the fact that i went to bed at four'o'clock...i ended up getting more like four hours of sleep instead of two b/c my alarm clock didn't wake me up. so i was up at 8:30, and i had to book it and finish studying for my vaCHINESE test, or the teacher would steal my dog and eat it.

i went over to WLH so i could study a bit extra outside the room and go in immediately after the other class got out...in order to maximize my time with the test: aka i'm really bad at chinese, and i never have enought time to finish the tests and i was trying to get in early. anyway, i ran into N8...S. Huges, K.A. (S. Huge's roomie), and Mattack all within 5 minutes. why was it awkward, you ask? well, if you were my friend you would know. so HA! if you dont' know, then you aren't my friend and your should probably consider jumping off a bridge.

from chinese...i went to Berekely for lunch with peeps...then tutoring...then smoked hooka with Kristos, Eej, and Mulberry which was really chill, fun and all that jazz. i was planning on going back to my room to sleep, since i only got 2 hours of sleep, but ended up talking to Cheesey, Sawah, Ramma and Kristos up until i had to go to my room, take a shower, go to Cheese' b-day party dinner at Cosi's, which, by the way, is totally overrated and certain nothing to brag about...immediately after that, i went to SE's Plagiarism Jam, where i got to see REMLE--MY FAVORITE ADVERB EVER!! (inside joke...)

went with 'cello and Mattack to SE's after party, where they danced up like strippers and i tried my best to keep up. none the less, it was good fun...lots of gossip, lots of giggling and bitch fights--you know how it go in the wild wild west.

needless to say, i was up until 6'o'clock in the morning...talking to the roomies and all that jazz...

it was a good night though. long. hard. erect. and stiff. but, altogether, a good night.

peace.

...hey mina...

hey mina, you so fine, you so fine you blow my mind...HEY MINA!

there are gonna be some happy guys (and lesbians) in the crowd tonight

Yup. that's her, looking at YOU like you could be the one for her...can't you see it in her eyes? she's saying, "hey! whats up? wanna go grab a cup of coffee, or talk about the French Revolution? OMG! you like my shirt? i really like your shirt, too! actually, FUCK the french revolution!! let's talk about something kinky...like DECONSTRUCTIONIST POETRY!!! *swoon*"

...but alas...things could never be, for she is the "girl with a heart of stone"; "monogamy," she says, "is not her friend."

monogamy, Mina, is nobody's friend...

my love is like...WOE!

get the pun there? double entendre/homophonic play on words. i am so clever. but, i feel that it cleverly encapsulates my love life, in general.

it's like WOE...cus, "WOE IS ME!"...but i shall elaborate on that a bit later.

anywho, The Mina will be providing a link soon to ONE picture of my choosing. let's hope it's a good one.

so, i'm just sitting here...got back from lunch...i should be going to go take a shower (that was my plan) but i really just want to sit here and ramble. i have lab at 2:30 until 5:30, i'll hit up dinner...and probably take a nap b/c i'll need it since i have to study for my chinese test tomorrow. the only good thing about taking tests: after you finish it, it's a little whiles before you have to take the next one...which is always nice. i'm just flipping out b/c i planned on studying for half the test yesterday, but copped out b/c YALESTATION dating is the DEVIL. its worse than AIM i tell ya...

i originally started this post as a tribute to PEOPLE. yes. i said it. it's a tribute to PEOPLE...but who said that a tribute is always a good thing...cus in my ramble, it sure ain't. and thus my manifesto begins:

"People...people who need people..."
fuck people. people are such bastards sometimes. and its not even people who can piss you the fuck off. its friends.

weird. huh? i guess that's where the line "your best friends can also be your worst enemies"...and i think that quote works because your best friends can usually cause the most damage...emotionally. *violin cues; distant solo violin begins to play* i understand how people work: we all have our own shit to do, we all have our plans, our ambitions, people we like and people that we don't, friends that we have and hook ups that we hope to attain...hell, i'm a "people", too, so i should know all this shit better than anyone else.

if that is true, then why do i feel like i don't make my friends feel as shitty as they can make me feel? is it b/c i'm super human or from nashville, tn? what the hell is it?

sometimes, my biggest fear is being forgotten...and worse than being forgotten is not being missed. so i wonder, if the bad/sad/mad feelings i have now are just byproducts of my negative karma, than who the fuck did i screw over? who the fuck did i forget along the line...my entire span of 18 years on this earth? well, i was kind of a dick to Bapple here and there in high school, but i never thought that the bad karma would amount to this, because, honestly, i feel like no one cares; the catch, however, is that deep down inside, i really DO KNOW that people do care, but the next catch is that people may care, but i don't think they care enough.

can ya dig it? what i need are people that can rely on me...AND THAT I CAN RELY ON, TOO. and by "rely on" i don't mean like "hey! you know i'm here for you!" because i know that most people i know are "there for me" in that way. but howabout, for once, it doesn't have to amount of ME needing someone for help. howabout just HAVING someone there for you? howabout having someone who keeps it from even getting to that point?...ya know, like a person who prevents the uber-depressive (granted my definition of uber-depressive is a kid on prozac's good day) states before they happen, rather than waiting for them to happen, and THEN being there for you. people who know me know (or should know) that i'm there for them...but sometimes, i don't feel like doing it anymore, because i'm too goddamn selfish, apparently, and want just ONE person (not two...not twenty) just ONE fucking human being to be reliable.

that's all i ask. RELIABILITY, GODDAMMIT!!

i know...i know...i'm really asking for a lot...

*cue for pity party to end* AND ::SCENE::

ON THAT NOTE:
i have recently discovered a reconnaissance tactic called "ghosting" on AIM...where you can make yourself disappear, but other people can see you...it's a good thing AND a bad thing. here's the quote i shall use to describe it:

"now, when you hear the *door shut* sound, you know that someone logged off...or did they...?"

when i grow up...

often times as a child, one of the most frequently asked questions a young person encounters is: "what do you want to be when you grow up?"

i have heard some great responses in my life time, seeing as that i am a pedophile who pays little children with jolly ranchers to come talk to me in my big white van while i video tape them eating the succulent pieces of tart candy and answer the sick sick questions i have, like "what do you want to be when you grow up?" and "who's your mommy?" and shit like that...you know...all the normal stuff that teenagers do.

one answer, however, will stick with me for the rest of my life.

some of you may know bapple, otherwise known as the Ben "Always Intellectual Sometimes" Apple...or you might recognize him as Ben "The Happy Trail" Apple or Benny "The Jet" Apple...others of you don't know him at all, and let me tell you, it's probably a good thing.

anyway, while touring his lovely abode in the Brentwood district of Nashville, i couldn't help but notice a plaque hanging on the wall. framed and proudly placed on the stairwell wall was one of those sheets of paper, mildly discolored due to time, with the blue and red lines that you help you learn to write...the kind of paper you use in first grade to help train your handwriting...anyway, he had a piece titled:

"When I grow Up" (mind you this is written in retarded kid/bapple handwriting)...and it went a little something like this:

"When I grow up, i want to president, and let all the black kids go to school."

**applause applause**...WAIT A SECOND...

yes, my friends, bapple, born in 1983 and not 1920, did in fact attempt to integrate the school system, a quite ambitious endeavor indeed, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT SCHOOLS HAD ALREADY BEEN INTEGRATED FOR DECADES. apparantly, bapple didn't learn who/what/where black people were until he was about 13.

please direct all complaints and donations (just in case you would like to provide bapple with a more well-rounded education) to bapple999@hotmail.com.

you're support would be greatly appreciated.

Ode to a Grecian Mina

ok ok...so following today's theme, i have decided to write yet another tribute to Mina..."the girl with the heart of stone"...(so poetic...)

so i had my first internet encounter with The Mina, and i have officially applied to become her personal vanity mirror. i worked really hard on the application, and she said that admissions this time of year are really really competitive, but she also said that i stand a good chance, seeing as that i have a blog in which i can publicly profess the greatness that is The Mina.

**all kneel before her...**

so it's a bit creepy i know, but sometimes, you have to accept your position in life.

let me elaborate:

my intuition was talking to me the other night, and was like "hey- i know your calling in life" and then it stopped talking to me. so i waited and waited for my intuition to talk to me again, and then myself told me "hey. your calling in life is Mina"...and i ALWAYS trust myself and what i tell me. i can only hope that The Mina will accept me and my decision to have the gracious honor of becoming her personal vanity mirror, but she said she can't guarantee anything...

IF ONLY SHE COULD GUARANTEE MY LOVE. (i know...it makes no sense...but i thought it sounded really pathetic, so i used it).

anyway, on an honest note, i think a lot of girls should take some notes on The Mina...the Dao of Mina if you will...and i guarantee, you will maximize your number of hookups and minimize your number of heartbreaks ten-fold.

and if there are any hot lesbians worthy of The Mina, please drop a note; she needs a little more attention from the lesbian population.

..and, O Great Illustrious One, if i could have the permission to link your shutterfly pics for all the world to see, the world woudl truly be a better place...

BY THE WAY: $ IS NOT STUPID.

...Ode to Mina...

so...i have study of the city tonite from 6:45 to 9:15...2 hours and 30 minutes of hell!! but today shouldn't be too bad, b/c all of the groups get to present their proposals, and if there's ONE thing i'm good it, it's giving great oral.

gotta love the oral, man...gotta love the oral! so i am going to be the spokes person for our group. could i be more excited?

quotable quote: Sportscenter telling me what Juvey told him, "remember when i lost my short term memory?"

anyway, back to the reason why this blog topic was posted.

ODE TO MINA...the hotttest half-ie in the entire world. i kneel before you in humility. your shutterfly pictures are truly truly inspiring. and i know not one other girl who's milkshake could bring the boys to the yard like yours does.

keep it real, yo.

WAIT...more funny discourse...

Joe (2:26:27 AM): anyway, i should best me off to the showers; and by showers, i mean naked gay orgy next door...and the blog is back up and running...so check it out!!
Faniel (2:26:38 AM): okeydokey, i'll just sit and cry
Joe (2:26:42 AM): don't sit and cry
Joe (2:26:43 AM): masturbate
Faniel (2:26:45 AM): haha. good call--later man
Faniel (2:27:20 AM): have a fun orgy. g'night.
Joe (2:27:29 AM): will do...(note to self: don't swallow)
Faniel (2:27:40 AM): dont spit either
Faniel (2:27:48 AM): just hold it there

The Talented Mr. Afinyanafongs

positive quote for the day:

"heidey ho, neighbor"
--Wilson, from Home Improvement (19??-2003)...yeah...the guy's dead. not so positive any more, is it?!--

today was a very progressive, sexually fervent day, full of propositions and quickeys in the bathroom with TAs. this, of course, translates to "this was a productive day, where i got a lot of sleep, and caught up on a lot of homework". i finished:
1) half of my Chinese HW due Monday
2) Math homework due Thursday
3) ...and that's it...

...but still! it's better than nothing. tomorrow, i am gonna get started on my Chinese HW due thursday, and all that jazz...i'm on top of it man...I'M KING OF THE WORLD!! *jumps onto the edge of the bed, arms spread out, wind blowing through my hair...*

so, strange strange STRANGE occurence today upstairs...never have i witnessed such a display of immaturity in my life.

the players: Adobe, C-dog, and YingYang.

the set: Vanderbilt, C-42

the plot: "three guys, Adobe, C-dog, and YingYang, all get mad at one another, and fight each other for reasons unbeknownst to the viewers. a very, existential "rosencratz and guildenstern are dead" interpretation of the laws governning the nature of shooting plastic dart guns. "

"truly riveting...ground breaking performance" -- NY Times film critique, David Denby
"absolutely controversial! two thumbs up!"-- Ebert and Roepert
"...it [was]...good..." -- God

Oscar winning? i can only pray. the Academy better watch out!!

so, a little thing i noticed today: if one pays careful attention to the away messages of Ramma and N8, you can almost keep up with the progression of their relationship. as if the PDA's weren't enough, Episode II: Clone of the Attack, is a little less on the side of creating PDAs (since i'm not usually there to witness the 'P' part), and more on the side of creating e-PDA's...like via-internet PDAs...the Public Displays of Affection OF THE TWENTY FIRST CENTURY. yeah buddy! you heard it FIRST, on Joe's Blog...

i totally just coined a new phrase...e-PDA...only qualm...it kinda looks like a condensed acronym for a deadly disease...though, in some ways, i guess it is...

if you wanna see something HOT, click this.

...now, if you wanna see something REALLY REALLY HOT, click this.

**NOT FOR THE WEAK OF HEART, and/or RAMMA**

by the way, hottest line of the day, as quoted by bapple when referring to his roommate, Tudor, at College of Charleston (a school that is sometimes never called "The Ivy League of Charleston, South Carolina"):
bapple (2:02:34 AM): david said he questioned his sexuality when i was gone last week, cuz he missed me so much

i caught it first: the biggest homophobes are always the biggest homos. it's out, Tudor, the world (and by world, i mean those who read my blog) now know that you are gayer than aids...(i know...it's un-PC, but HELL, since when was this blog supposed to be PC?)

FINALLY, my petition to add a class to my course schedule for credit was FINALLY approved...AND i got a really good 3 hour nap that came out of no where...AND $ and I came up with the revolutionary design scheme for Branford's spring/winter line 2004; here's the theme: squirrel. check it. the new line will include:
1) BR monogrammed purses
2) squirrel fur-line argyle socks
3) squirrel kimonos
4) branford knitted scarves
5) coon hat...but instead of coon, (we don't want to kill any people...)...we'll use squirrel
6) hermes silk/squirrel-lined handkerchiefs

i think the branford knitted scarf is a little out there...tell me if you have any suggestions. of all the things we have to offer...WHO THE FUCK WOULD WANT A KNitTED SCARF??? tHAT'S SICK!!!

Here's how much Sawah loves me:
SawahBoyYet (2:11:58 AM): I kill you
SawahBoyYet (2:12:25 AM): I'm-a EAT YOU

ANOTHER QUOTABLE QUOTE:
Gabriel: goodbye...Priscilla.
(Gabriel's line to Bookie...who's Priscilla you ask? HIS EX!! MWAHAHAHA)

...it's PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!!!!

yes...folks...it IS, in fact, PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!

*breaks out into song and dance with jumping feet and fingers pointed up and down*

i loooove the PBJ dance...it really makes my day...it makes life worth living, to be exact.

today's topic is: WHY YALE IS BETTER THAN EVERYTHING ELSE

it's a touchy topic, i know, but one that must be discussed at every dinner table across the nation. there's a reason why "Yale rules, Harvard drools" is an idiom psychologically ingrained in every person since the day of their birth...and since, in actuality, that is NOT a quote that is ingrained in every singlee child's mind at birth, it still, nonetheless, poses a riveting argument...and by argument, i really mean statement, because it is true. Yale RULES. here's why:

yalies are always smart, and always outgoing and goodlooking sometimes.

yale is the most beautiful school in all the world, and the professors are even beautifuller.

where else can you go and find professors who assign you to read the books they that wrote themselves (*cough* Garvin...).

you have lots of money, lots of connections, and lots of blow jobs.

ok...i kinda got bored with listing off reasons why Yale rocks, but you get my drift: yale rules.

that's all that matters.

much love to my bros in the clink-- peace.

BY THE WAY...

You are a Mod. Yeah baby.


What kind of Sixties Person are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

step three with bitch drop the T, cus bich is latin for generosity!!!

YO YO YO YO YO...what up, g?

so, tonight was SUPPOSED to be quite eventful, with my first one and one meet and greet with Gabriel, but Bookie dropped out on me (the dumb bitch) so i never got to eat with her (or her eat out...). anyway, i ended up going to Berkeley with C-dog and co., which was an interesting experience. my only qualm: the all natural yogurt had the viscosity of GAK. do you remember that shit?

**flashback: as a child, i used to save things. i don't know why, but i just did b/c i was scared of using all of what i was using....(make's sense, right?) anyway, so for christmas, i got a gak maker machine, that you put in these little baggies of powder, mix it with water and cocaine, and stir it all together and you have your own home-made gak. needless to say, i LOVED the gak machine, but i decided to get all stingy with the powder, and save the other gak powders for other occasions (such as hunukkah and rosh hashana). sucks for me, but 10 years later, i realized i NEVER used the other bags of GAK, and i felt really stupid for saving them for all that time.**

for a good time, PLEEEASE go here.

it's my new form of self pleasure.

CLICK ME, I'M HOT!!

step two, instead of shit say poo...

last night...another eventfully uneventful night. i stayed in once again, which was super duper nice. i got to catch up on some major sleep and not get too exhuasted whore-ing myself out on the streets like courtney love on ex. so i woke up around 2, didn't get out of the house until about 4, where i went to the Dunham lab to work on my "Solid Edge" tutorial. you might feel the natural inclination to associate the program "solid edge" with a gay porn, but, my friends, solid edge is a CAD program, used for making 3-d models of objects. anyway, the assignment was to build a family seal and/or crest.

do you know what i made?

i made the Temple at Delphi, complete with rotunda, 13 pillars, and statue in the middle. yeah. i went a little haywire on the topic, and created an ancient structure that looks like the foyer between Woolsley and Commons (flashback:: "hey hey! ho ho! woolsley hall is made of gold! hey hey! ho ho!..."--locals 34 and 35, Fall '03). i am very proud of my structure...its truly amazing.

anyway, i was at dunham lab until about 11, when i came back home and toked up a bit with $, c-dog, and co...(sound a bit familiar?) and just did my thang. you know how it be in the wild wild west.

so, agenda for tonite: buy new fishnet stockings, wig and mac cosmetics. what i really mean is: take a shower, and try to finish my chinese homework before dinner...it's going to be a special night (*wink wink* to bookie sarah).

can you believe yesterday was Valentine's day? i don't know which is sadder: the fact that i didn't have a valentine, or that i forgot the holiday even existed. o well, it's all good in the hood. as long as i have my sugar daddy, ain't nothing gonna rain on my parade!!

and with that, i'm out like richard simmons.

step one, instead of ass say buns...

So. this is quite a new start, ain't it?

Would you like a run down of last night's amazing events? well, to be honest with you, it was my first time to stay in...yeah...my FIRST. never have i EVER stayed in on a friday night, but it was really nice. as $ said, "It makes saturday seem a lot more fun."

hmm...so what did i do? i went to chinese...licked a pussy...stole some odwalla...went to my chinese TA...slept...ate dinner at Yorkside...went to the Proof of the Pudding's (an all-girl acapella group/brothel) "Spooky Jam" concert, (the concert for which i, i might add, designed the "Spooky Jam" flyer)...went home to the V-suite, went up stairs, and got REALLY FUCKING ASS BLAZED.

my favorite line of the night occurred while we were in "St. Thomas More's", a catholic church where the Proof concert was held. upon walking into this rather conservative-avant garde place of worship, i couldn't help but notice those 13 metal/bronze cast jesus statues of the last steps jesus took until his crucifiction and resurrection. to this sight, i replied: "wow! i really like what they have done with this place...especially these bronze cast Jesi." ::laughter:: get it?? Jesus...plural form is Jesi.

**BY THE WAY, ESPN HAS JUST RUINED MY LIFE. he's going to go take a shower now, and i wanted to take a shower...so, MY LIFE IS FUCKING RUINED! FUCK YOU. NOW, I'M GOING TO HAVE TO WAIT, and DRINK THIS ODWALLA! FUCK YOU!!!**

the proof concert was really good. i noticed that they do a lot of classic, a capella songs, and not any of that crazy lesbian bullshit, like Tori Amos and stuff. so they definetely made a nice impact upon my "wall of favorite acapella groups," a wall that in theory does not exist, and in reality does not exist either. the concert did, however, teach me a few things:
1) some people can sing
2) some peopel can't sing
3) some people who can't sing sing with people who can sing

yeah. i didn't like the pitch's vibrato in "i never do anything more than twice," (while i did enjoy the back to back panting of girls chained together with handcuffs...yeah...don't you wish you went to the concert now?) and i didn't like one girl completely. you know why? (and, no. it wasn't b/c she was ugly). it was because SHE COULDN'T SING.

i was also mildly disturbed during the dance sequences when i realized, "wow! how is it that the duke's men (one of yale's all male a capella groups) has much better dance choreography?" we all, of course, know what the answer is. it's because of the gays and all their dancing magicals. that was quite an epiphinatical (sp?) moment...which happens to rhyme with sabbatical...cool, huh?

i did have fun last night, chillin with C-dog, Froggy and $ upstairs. especially when $ kicked out all the fuckers that were in the room. not that they were being fuckers or being rude, we just didn't want them in there when we were smoking up, and by smoking up, i mean reading the bible. reading the bible is a really holy-type ordeal, and we didn't want it to be ruined by those dirty little fat hobbit-ses that were trying to read the bible, too...if you know what i'm getting at.

so, bookie, for an update, is no longer high and dry, but getting tons of really really hot ass from an angel named gabriel.
**holy light appears through the dark clouds, and lands upon bookie.**

and with that, i'm out like trout!

"Est-ce que tu veux parler du sex?"

do you remember this beautiful line??

I do.

Let me recount this wonderful tale of tales...the glory of all glories!

It happened in 11th grade, in 6th period "Ms. Gaylawhore's" class, when Meggie was learning a little french on the side, which was ironic in some ways because we were in English. i being the ignorant little chinaman that i am, over heard Meggie say "J'aime les garcon!", which i heard and, naturally, quietly repeated...and by quietly repeated, i mean SHOUTED REALLY FUCKING LOUDLY!

::subtle laughter::

I also learned such phrases as:

"J'aime les poissons!" = I love fishes
"J'aime les croissants!" = I love croissants
"Je veux vous lecher partout!" = I want to lick you all over
"Je m'appelle Monsier Petit Papillon!" = My name is Mr. Little Butterfly
"Est-ce que tu veux parler du sex?" = Would you like to talk about sex?

Apparently, Meggie learned all of these lines in a French chat room on AOL, (DIRTY FRENCH!!!)

...they honestly ALWAYS make me sick to my stomach SOMETIME...

anywho, i best be off, considering i have a little cunningly "lingual" date if you will with my chinese TA.

Note to self: bring breath strips, NOT tictacs.

from joe, to my few viewers...

A DIATRIBE DEDICATED TO SARAH:

wow...my faithful bloggers. how i have betrayed you so...

...its been a long time. and in the words of bonkie sarah, i fear that my "hymen may have grown back"...but in the much more metaphorical sense, in that i fear that i have gotten TOO used to life without my blog...and that must cum to an end, should it not?

i think the vast amounts of sex and orgies i have been having have really curtailed my amount of leisure time, which is why i have had trouble keeping up with my "baby"...(said that in that southern BAAAY-BEEEE accent that bookie loves and cares for so much).

i am so horny right now. not in the sense that i really want to please myself, but just the overall fact that i KNOW i don't get any, and i WANT to get some, and therefore, as a human being, i feel like i SHOULD be horny. and i feel like i should be REALLY HORNY.

but enough about my hormones. howabout two thumbs up for Bookie and her latest (and only HOT pull)...GABRIEL. what would i have to give...what would i have to pay to have the extremely hot and sexual porn/romance-novel dialogue shared between her and her lover?? if any one is listening (that means YOU, satan), i am willing to barter my soul...or something to that level of importance. call my cell, you know the digits.

theres so much that i want to say, i miss you blog.

and i hope to keep up with you...from this day henceforth!

FROM SAWAH, TO THE WORLD: VOLUMES I and II

VOLUME I

So, objectively speaking, it seems as though just when everything is falling into place for everyone around me, my life is going to complete shit. And I’m not feeling sorry for myself; these are objective observations.

Ramma is so caught up on work, she’s catching up on work from three weeks from now. Plus she’s semi-involved with SMS again, V-man’s up her ass, and she’s got a screw date with hot Raphael (who, might I add, is a dirty-looking filmmaker; more my type than preppy hers).
Bookie is having a hot teasing thing with an Orlando Bloom look-alike. I don’t think that requires any more explanation.
And Cheese? Cheese’s biggest problems are: 1) The play in which she was cast (on her third audition) has too much stage intimacy, and 2) Her boyfriend is doing so much for Valentine’s Day that she feels uncomfortable.

God should grant me her problems.

Like, I don’t want to seem like a whiner. And it’s not like I begrudge Cheese her success. But…I wish I could get a little luck floating my way. I don’t need to get cast. I need a sign. A call-back. I don’t need a boyfriend. I need a sign. A flirty smile. Do you know? I feel like…I feel like I would give the proverbial right nut to have Cheese’s problems. Not specifically—I’m not interested in the Gordster, and I don’t love the part she has. But to be able to bitch about, God, the play I’m doing, or my boyfriend? Like, Jesus Fucking Christ. To quote Eliza Doolittle, “Wouldn’t it be loverly?”

Everywhere I turn, I’m getting rejected, passed over, or made fun of. Between guys, giving up on the drama thing (which is its own trip—I really did love it), and having Ramma and the entire familial crew bust on me for being messy and not having my shit together, I feel shitty, and then I feel attacked for feeling shitty and not having my shit together. It’s like, Okay, not everyone dusts every week. And sometimes you forget about shit. And my area wouldn’t be so messy if I was allowed to do anything besides sleep in my room. Horseshit, my room. Calendar’s fucking room. Fuck, I even put on my underwear in the common room. My little corner is the only fucking space I have in all of Yale, so cut me some fucking slack, all right? If I had my druthers, my mess, my shit, all of it, would be in another room. I don’t like having the common room look cluttered, but I’ve got nowhere else.

I’m PMSing, which means my boobs hurt, I’m zitty, and I’m bitching out everyone in America. I don’t have a screw date, whereas my non-single roommates have multiple options. Let’s not even talk about having a Valentine. I’ll cry. Really. I have a paper due tomorrow that I haven’t started writing, and a to-do list as long as my arm. I’m having an ugly, awful period, and it shows no signs of abating.

Hold out hope for me, guys. You’ve got to.

VOLUME II

Being a virgin (let’s just get that out in the open), and reasonably practical in spirit, I recently decided that it would behoove me to make a mix CD; the playlist would consist of only those songs to which I would conceivably like to lose my virginity. First was the classic of the 90s—“Crash Into Me” by Dave Matthews—and next on the list was the iconic 80s-losin’-it tune, Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes.” Remember? In “Say Anything”? Lloyd Dobler? Oh wow.
In any case, after those two, it started to get a little more difficult. After much deliberation, I decided that “Leather and Lace” by Stevie Nicks was okay; so was “Dolphins Cry” by Live. All right; now a little Boyz II Men, “Water Runs Dry”; maybe that Billie Meyers song that was big in, what, 1998; Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You”; Bob Dylan’s “Boots of Spanish Leather.” The last two are just so beautiful that they make me cry—and hey, they’re about love!

Or are they…

I kept looking through my playlist. Ooh, I know: Edwin McCain’s heart-ripping cover of Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet”; that line, “Oh Romeo, you know I think I used to have a scene with him” just tears at your soul. But it wasn’t until I considered Bonnie Raitt’s classic “Can’t Make You Love Me” that I realized I had a serious problem. Namely: The majority of the songs I find really sexy and romantic and beautiful are about (you guessed it) break-ups.
Now, this might seem normal from the Queen of Perversity of Feeling (Motto: Say One Thing, Do Another—Every Time!). At the very least, it’s not surprising. But at the same time, how fucked up am I?

So now I’m worried. Do I actually think that breaking up with someone is better (in any way) than being with someone and being happy? Is it, what, somehow more noble? Is that mental image of the abandoned woman, the betrayed woman, the leaving woman, the resolutely stalwart woman, the weeping woman, somehow more beautiful than the happy woman?

I can’t possibly think that, can I?

I want to be happy; I want to be with someone; I want to have a life with someone; I don’t want to be alone. Really.
Maybe it’s just that I haven’t been happy that often; maybe I’ve convinced myself that sad is beautiful, that heartbroken and miserable and hungry for something is ennobling and exquisite in its own way. I need not to wallow in my sadness and tell myself it’s beautiful. I need not to justify my misery. I need to seek joy, and trust in joy’s beauty. Maybe what I have to remember is that happy can be beautiful too.