So it started out with me, waking up in the morning and going "Jesus I have a shit load of stuff to do." Anyway I go downstairs and I see my moms hired hand helping with the laundry and I'm like "Oh Hey, how've you been?" Since she does not come over unless my mom calls her, and we begin to joke and laugh about stupid things until I find all of my clothes and head out to the beach to do my routine ass kicking.
I don't know how hot today was but, "Loose fit" Jeans were not the pants to be wearing. It was like blades of fabric against my legs, and then submerged in water due to the sweat. Like Being stabbed in the leg while you're swimming. Stabbed by Sea Porcupines! Or are those called Urchins?... ANYWAY, so I walk into the local Brooks to grab some rations and continue my Journey.
Now we haven't had our Group Meetings of Martial Arts Madness for the last two weeks, due to it being the day after July 4th, and the fact that the week after, no one went, because I didn't organize it. (Since I'm like, The "BIG BOSS" and no one really decides to take charge.) Anyway I'm fighting Codename "Shiny Lee" and kind of getting my ass kicked since I've only been practicing the "Perfect Uppercut" for the last few months. Anyway I get back into my Groove and start breaking down his defenses a bit, then I begin to fight Codename "Kapoble" which was actually pretty good considering his progress. Codename "Savvy" comes over and we being to breif the plans of buying her health and sport products inorder to earn her money for her Kind of Pyramid Scheme organization, so that it will allow us to buy proper equipment for the group. (She does this thing called quixstar? Iunno look it up).
So we start sparring again and I'm like "Oh hey guys my phones ringing." So I walk over and some how i STEP ON A FUCKING BEE. So I'm like "La di da di da, HEY OW WTF IS THAT?!" And I left my foot, and this little bastard, is wrigling around like he owns it with his stinger in me. So I rip that shit out and I throw him somewhere. Needless to say I wasn't fighting for a while. Codename "Gogo" Shows up and Codename "Phitus ( pronounced 'fetus')" shows up and everyone but little'ol me is having the time of their lives.
So I packed up my things after all was said and done, we went our Seperate ways and along the way somoene was calling to see if they could get Tickets to "The Dark Knight" but the conversation went like this.
"Hey they said the 3:30 just sold out, so we can get the 4:15. No wait that just sold out, ok the 5:10. Shit that Sold out too." And it went on like that until they got to 7 something, but I didn't got, I had a date with Revere Beach and Sand Castle building. Which actually wasn't bad, but the fact that certain people weren't there was fail. But we made the best of it. I again, wore a terrible clothing combination to the beach (Jeans, Small Shirt, Sun Glasses) and not bringing Swim Trunks or a Towel. Fucking Fail Daniel. FUCKING. FAIL. But I got to see girls in bikinis so whatever. After hanging out with a Chinese Fanily for a about 20 Minutes, calling people by the wrong name, tossing a ball around and otehr miscellaneous activites, we decided to bury the white guy and put a chair with towels on it over his face, to make it look as if the chair was talking.
It was awesome. That was so much win. We fooled like 30+ People. Some were bold enough to talk back, most of the time we just confused the shit out of small children and adults alike. We even got it on video, but it wasn't my camera. Anyway we saw some fireworks (Most likely left overs from "La Dia de Independencia"), and I took the train to JFK to go to this PAR-TAY!
On the way I met my homie AJ! You know the guy I did the video with an stuff. Blah blah blah, he was going to the party too! So I could've gone straight home, but that would've been a win, and God didn't want that. So we wait for his friend Desmond to show up and we make our way to "The Hood", like, seriously, if it wasn't so late, or maybe later, we may have been caught in gun fire. Anyway we get to the party, I see all these kids from Highschool (17 and under) and a few guys I know, and then some other Random Mutha Fuckas. So I'm like "Yo, there are, two women here." A Really Great Looking Latina Girl, and this like...Mean, Terrible, Ill-manneres African American Woman, who was, without a doubt, good looking as well, but her attitude was like "Yeah I want to cut you wit ha rusty knife." Ya'know? So they put away the Henny, the Chicken was almost done, and they had soda, water, "beer", and get this, Capri-Sun. Wtf right? Like are we 12 Again? So I grab the guy that invited me by the shoulders and I yelled,
"YOU BITCH!" (Mind you I'm shaking him) "YOU INVITED A BUNCH OF DUDES TO THE PARTY! I KNEW YOU WERE GAY! WHAT THE FUCK MAN! ARE YOU SERIOUS!? ARE YOU SERIOUS!? YOU DEPENDED ON ME FOR THE WOMEN AND YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANY PLANNED TO COME!?"
He had called earlier in the week and told me to bring all of my "Sexy Asain Female Friends". Of Course I didn't tell anyone anything, becasue if you call someone else to call people, then you know it's going to be a bad party. And you don't want that to sully your name.
So the black girl kicks us out, and we stand out side bad mouthing the event until we decided to walk home. Like a fucking epic 4 mile journey back home. Maybe a little less, but still a ways away.
I finally get home at about 12:50-something and I write this.
I thought I'd try to get back into Blogging everyday
And then I realized why I stopped.
What is there to blog about everyday? I mean, I'm sure if I always took the time out to record all of my adventures, notice the "Small things in life" and "Achieve my goals", there would be something to blog about everyday. But I often wonder if most of those blogs would be filled with Pseudo-Philosophical rants, or just complaints.
Granted, in today's world, I suppose the possibilities are endless. With all the new technology, foods disease, wars, finances, public activities, deaths, births, and etcetera, one could blog everyday about nothing. It'd be like the Internet Seinfeld. But Unlike Seinfeld, would it be entertaining? Would you get a point across? Granted I started blogging to get my voice heard, since I was not comfortable with speaking my mind in person. Or more so, Society wasn't comfortable with it. As time went on, my Social Dynamics changed, providing me with the Position of Primary Alpha Male, depending on the group of individuals I had in my company. Thought I suppose, breaking out of my comfort zone had a bit to do with that as well, I'd like to think, if one does not seek out a way to better themselves, then there can be no one, to better oneself.
Given all of my studies and miscellaneous facts and fictions, I am still, more or less "Surprised" by the hive mentality based on Social Networking sites, such as this. I know, people are people, but perhaps I had been looking forward to something...more promising? Then again, I am not truly looking, I am more or less, complaining about what I haven't seen, and stating that I have done nothing about it.
In light of recent events however, I would be deciding whether or not my company outside of these internet walls, meet me at my reality walls.
Let's take for example, if a Xanga meet did happen (America), how many people do you suppose would all gather around such "Celebrities" that hold their titles tried and true? Would that cause and unforseen cataclysmic catastrophe? Or a perhaps a division of lines, drawn in the floors of Xangas main office, or the convention center they would hope to hold these rampaging beats of men and women with spirits and hormones burning hotter than the mamga of Hades.
But I digress, for I wonder where my foot stands.
Being caught up in the Hype of contests and factions, teams and alliances, I can only see myself being sucked into the whirlpool of popularity and ever distancing myself from the voice inside that says, "Oh hey I think this is important."
In laymans, I write to please, not for me.
And Now I see where the whole, "Protected" and "Private Posts" Come in. They hold the...inner santum of the blogger. Rather, what the public sees may act as a facade, to express, or skim the surface layers of and onion we call the Human Persona.
Yes. That would make sense. In my head anyway.
Regardless of that, I think since I still have not truly, expirienced all my little Blogshpere of the Interenet has to offer, perhaps it's time I jump on that bandwagon as well.
But I rather not lead a double life. I see no need to, and thus I still do not beleive in the Private Post.
But if one needs to release, and does mind the unsincere "Hey I'm sorry" or "I feel for you" responses of the commenters, that would be a safe haven. It makes sense as well.
And thus we I have created for myself another conundrum.
So in Other news...
We havethis New Product, It's called "Falcon Punch"
You Should try some. Side Effects may include Burning Fists, Surprise Abortions, Pain, Internal Bleeding and in Common Cases, Death.
I saw for a while a recent incline in posts about what guys shouldn't do when girls go into the Red Season, as I like to so creatively call it. Well, I'd like to say, if I had a radar that told me when you became a faucet for scarlet bodily fluids, I think I would know what to do, but hey, I don't have one. So don't snap at me because you woke up as "Angsty Girl" with the Power to Bitch Faster than a Speeding Bullet.
With that in mind, all girls are not even like that. Some are not much different that they normally are, some are more depressing, but rarely do you see any that would be...Excited or happy. The resulting effects of each, uh..."Menstrual Cycle" vary, not to greatly, but they do vary, and it would help if a guy (such as myself) got some kind of clue about it. Granted, I don't think any guy would actually want to know your schedule, but dropping a few hints would help. And if he isn't getting it, just come right out and say it. For one, a guy won't care about you bleeding and cramping up like a punctured liver, as long as you still attractive on the outside, we're for the most part pleased. Sure, you can't do everything you used to do last week, no biggy, We're great at entertaining ourselves (*Fap fap fap*), and its not like you don't need a break either.
I'm just saying, it'd help if someone or some Divine Being decided to place a Post-It on my forhead in the morning with a list of women that were blaming their moods on "PMS" with no real effort to control themselves. Though I'd probably be a bit freaked out if my member just kind of leaked blood all over my Gumby boxers with no warning. Yeah that would suck so much...
What I'm saying is, we're not psychics, some of us are going to ask, and some of us can smell it (if you're just that nasty/or our noses are that strong.) Lets pray to god no one can see it yeah?
But all in all, Don't blame us, Helps up. You know, Help us, help you.
And if you don't want to do that then go ahead and marinate in that big'ol buckect of
