the only thing worse
than bad memories
is no memories at all..
[dismemberment plan]
3.30.2004
Eww, BOYS!!!
I know that lately, the theme of my recent posts have unfortunately come to "Eww! Boys pay too much attention to me! Boo hoo! Some old black man flashed me on the subway! Help, he's touching me!" but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to post another one.
On the way back to my dorm from the library, where I finally finished my midterm in the media room (it took three listens of "Summerteeth"), I got a phone call.
And it was RUBEN.
For those of you who aren't familiar with this person, he is dangerously unintelligent, a stalker/kidnapper, and ridiculously, ridiculously desperate.
He also fights in human-sized rat cages in weird clubs in California.
After months of harassment, i.e.:
him showing up at my house when I wasn't even home,
calling my home/dorm/cell phone no less than a million times a day,
IM'ing me on 7+ bogus screennames,
trying to threaten/blackmail me (with a goofy picture of me with a thong on my head, no less), and finally, um, pretty much
kidnapping me when I was leaving my dorm (he drove for an hour and a half to get me) and refusing to let me leave his place until the next morning,
after all of this shit, he called me from California (he moved back in with his MOM) expecting us to be cool.
"Hey, is Trish there?"
I recognized his voice immediately.
No one else calls me fucking "Trish."
"Hi."
"I just wanted to let you know that I'm coming up there in about four weeks, and I wanted to know if we could get together."
......
I wish I could have torn him apart and just yelled at him or something, or even at least fart in the phone, something, but the best I could do was say,
"Um, I'm going to be in school."
"Oh."
......
"Um, okay."
What a fucking moron.
I have never in my life met anyone as dumb as this motherfucking bitch.
He tried everything, from yelling at me, whining and crying to me, buying me stupid shit, to just pretty much outright stalking me. Before he finally moved back to California, I was seriously fucking afraid to go by my windows because I thought he would be there, in my backyard, staring creepily into my house at me.
Well, anyway, I guess it just goes to show that you can't teach an old dog new tricks -- but you can, however, take him into your backyard and hit him on the butt with an enormous wooden paddle like my neighbors' crazy Cuban grandfather did to their family dog.
I guess the Ruben situation doesn't really apply too well to the "old dog/new tricks" adage, but oh God, what I would do to be the crazy Cuban grandfather who beats him to death with an enormous wooden paddle to the ol' buttcheeks.
It happens every once in a while, but I'm still pretty appalled when it does.
I've asked before, and I'll ask it again:
Why do guys think it's a good idea to email unsolicited pictures of their weiners/thingies/porkers/ding dongs/peepees?
I mean, to be honest, the last thing I want to look at when I go to my Inbox is a fuzzy webcam picture of a pasty, hairy boner waving at me (albeit rather cheerfully).
And what makes it worse is that the customary message that goes along with it is always so full of self-satisfaction, i.e. "8======D HERE R MY PICTORZ!!! ;) ;) ;)"
Come on, people.
I'm not naming names or anything, but jeez.
Stop being gross!
We've all had our share of fun on those stupid Friendster or Myspace sites, but man, some people are so fucking stupid.
Let me just say to my credit, no, I never replied to this person or encouraged him in any way.
His name/email have been changed to spare him the shame and embarassment of being 37 years old and an internet creep.
And YES, THIS IS ALL FROM THE SAME MAN.
Date: Thu, 25 Mar 2004 11:38:00 -0800
From: a4rocker
To: patreesha
Subject: Hello patreesha
I am legitimately interested and just 2 hours away. Soon I will be opening camp for the summer where pancakes, playstation2,movies, the fireplace and swimming are staple activities. I know what I want, an asian girlfriend to share it with. My e mail is wjillig3@hotmail.com
Ah, the American Dream: Pancakes, Playstation 2, a fireplace, and... an asian girlfriend???
Date: Thu, 25 Mar 2004 13:05:02 -0800
From: a4rocker
To: patreesha
Subject: Love needs a heart ...
trusting and blind
does love need a heart like mine ?
Aww, he's a poet!
Date: Fri, 26 Mar 2004 09:46:48 -0800
From: a4rocker
To: patreesha
Subject: Albany is too far ?
I guess Albany is too far away. Look, I am no wierdo/pervert or anything like that. All I want is to talk . I joined this site to meet an Asian woman and that is the only reason. We have more in common than you may think. Take care and please reconsider e mailing me.
Actually, Albany is nowhere near far enough for internet creeps. They should be put on a rocket and sent to the sun.
Date: Fri, 26 Mar 2004 12:51:40 -0800
From: a4rocker
To: patreesha
Subject: " if "
Did you know that "if" is the middle word in life ? Think about that : if I had , if I could , if I would ....
He's a poet and and philosopher. Awww.
Date: Fri, 26 Mar 2004 13:55:34 -0800
From: a4rocker
To: patreesha
Subject: koala ?
you dont look like a koala ...
you are a delecate little flower
Ugh.
What is with some white guys and having lots and lots of Asian girls on their friend lists???
I've had to --DENYYYY-- so many weirdos on this Friendster shit who just have enormous, enormous lists of exclusively Asian girls. It's like they're trying to monopolize them or something. That's bullshit.
voltmantis: OH MAN! that new pic on your site is scandelous
voltmantis: you look black there...
spinkies55: i look black??
voltmantis: mh hm
spinkies55: how so??
spinkies55: my huge hair?
voltmantis: but i looking very generally about it... its not hard to fathom that you have negro-affiliated genes in your body
voltmantis: no its like your smile and your nose
spinkies55: hahahahaha what???
voltmantis: but i see alot of asian lookin black girls
voltmantis: the reason i even think about it is because i was reading up in scientific maga something and its like all the races are so intergrated.. its easy to find a lightskinned person that has the bone structure of a darker skinned person
spinkies55: haha alright
voltmantis: and i totally see monkey type qualities in both asian and dark skinned people.. if you get what i mean im not trying to be rude
voltmantis: i hate being a scientist
spinkies55: monkey type!?!?!?
spinkies55: now i look like a black asian monkey??
voltmantis: mh hmm
voltmantis: its the nostrils
spinkies55: oh man
spinkies55: are you high?
In the past few months, I have lost (and yes, I HAVE noticed that I've been using these bulleted lists a whole fucking lot lately):
a huge folder containing every single paper, graded exam, report, and assignment that I did the first semester of college
my glasses
a really really important cd that I need if I ever want to reformat my harddrive
competence
.. and this is only the stuff that I've actually realized that I've lost. I'm sure there's tons of shit that I just have forgotten about.
I've always been really scatterbrained, but this is ridiculous. Where the hell has all of this shit slipped off to?
Edit: Well this is interesting.
After two hours of unpacking and cleaning up my dorm room, I collapsed at my desk. I knocked something into the mini fridge, and heard a "THUMP." I squinted behind the fridge to see what it was, and had the following succession of thoughts (again with the bulleted lists):
"Man, I wish I had my glasses so I could see what that thing is back there."
"Oh shit, is that my new pair of glasses down there???"
"No.."
"OH MY GOD IT'S THE GLASSES THAT I THOUGHT I ACCIDENTALLY THREW AWAY IN THE TRASH THREE MONTHS AGO!!!!"
Holy crap! The very first day I returned to school with my brand new glasses to replace the ones that I lost, I find the rogue pair. It had apparently gotten caught in the coils on the back of the refrigerator somehow? What the fuck?
Well anyway. They're all bent up and shit, and probably melted and fucked up from the hot/cold coils back there, but I don't care that much. My new glasses are pretty cute anyway.
I did, however, get a little overexcited and started banging into the side of the fridge and my desk with my butt and kicked it a few times, in hopes that my super important folder and really really important computer reformatting cd would
tumble out from the coils, too. Or at the very least, any semblance of competence. But of course, no such luck. Oh well.
Despite the fact that my mom makes gorgeously delicious food (I'm not sure how delicious food can be gorgeously so, but believe me, my mom can somehow do it), there's a great number of things that are driving me absolutely insane here at my Jersey natural dwelling, such as:
maddeningly slow dialup internet,
my dad giving me a lecture about why it's bad to not wear socks -- when, may I add, I was indeed wearing socks -- and I had to physically take off my sneakers and show him that I was because he didn't believe me until I did so,
my brother getting mad at me for using "his" sink and making me swab all the water off of it with toilet paper and then spitting "Take some responsibility" at me -- as though I'd committed some kind of horrible crime
and the fact that 50% of my family members seem to be very ill.
I have to vacate the premises immediately. ASAP. I swear to god, if this cough that I just coughed is going to be persistent, I'm going to just flip out and kill all of them. Every one of them. Without remorse. I'll fucking do it.
The Indian Stallion and I had a conversation at length tonight, debating whether "The Passion of the Christ" was a good movie or if it sucked my left titty. I won. It sucks. People, stop IM'ing me, crying about how the Passion changed your life and how you found God because some pile of horsecrap that squeezed out of Mel Gibson's colon. I'm not interested. The next person who tries to argue that it was a "good movie" is going to get a paper clip up his dickhole. I'm not joking. In this debate, believe me, YOU WILL NOT WIN.
The worst part so far though, was signing up for one of those horrible 2 month free trials for shitty AOL dialup internet service so I can go online while I'm home -- and immediately forgetting my password after the first time I logged on. What was even worse than that was having to call customer service to get my password, because the lady didn't understand that my account name was "Usingthistrial" until I literally spelled it out for her. The phone call was absolutely painful.
Retarded AOL Lady: What is the account name? Me: It's "usingthistrial." Retarded AOL Lady: -- long pause -- I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying our quality connection services. What is the name of your account? Me: No, no. My account name is actually "usingthistrial." Retarded AOL Lady: -- another long pause -- I do appreciate the fact that you are using AOL for your internet purposes, but I need to know the name of your account to help you. Me: U-S-I-N-G-T-H-I-S-T-R-I-A-L. Retarded AOL Lady: I'd also like to inform you that you can try AOL Broadband for just $1.49 more than you would be paying for a regular internet connection. Me: Um, no thanks, I just want to know my password! Retarded AOL Lady: So, are you saying that you would like to give up a broadband connection for just an extra $1.49? Me: YES... YES!!!
This was almost as bad as the time I had to call AOL to cancel my account and some Chinese guy with a thick accent couldn't distinguish between R's and O's, V's and E's, and a few other essential components of the English language. And I could hear a bunch of people shouting in Spanish and playing office football in the background.
So yes. My spring break is full of fun and excitement.
Now excuse me, I have to get back to the game of Spider Solitaire I've been playing for the past 6 hours.
P.S. Someone please rescue me. Save me from New Jersey. Please.
[Note: If you haven't seen the trainwreck of a movie called "The Passion of the Christ," you probably don't want to read this. Not that there's any "spoilers," because come on, I think we all know what happens at the end.]
Honestly, I'm not sure why Mel Gibson decided to call this movie "The Passion of the Christ."
It was more like "Two Hours of Watching Jesus Get Whipped into the Ethereal Form of a Purple, Quivering Hemmerhoid."
They relied so heavily upon slow motion effects throughout this entire film, that I swear, if they'd played it all at regular speed, the movie would have been about 25 minutes long and without a doubt a lot less painful to watch.
There was so much blood, torn flesh, exposed ribcages, torn-off eyelids, but all done with a complete lack of finesse.
If I wanted to see gratuitous amounts of violence and extensive footage of closeups on B.C.-age leather sandals, I'd watch Russell Crowe in "Gladiator" instead.
At least that had some remote resemblance of character development in it. "Passion" instead had some gross eyebrowless Smigel/Gollum casting call reject as Satan lurking around unimpressively for a few hours, and later rolling around on the ground wearing a tattered pirate shirt and screaming.
Well then.
The movie was so, so boring.
It followed the same algorithm of:
Crying Lady 1 screams "Stop! He's holy!"
People look uneasily at each other.
Priests laugh and tell her to get out of the way.
Crying Lady 2 screams "Stop! He's holy!"
People look uneasily at each other.
Priests laugh and tell her to get out of the way.
Over and over and over and over. And over.
The worst mistake I made, though, was going with my MOM.
Like it wasn't bad enough that I was surrounded by little old ladies clutching their chests and sobbing through the entire movie -- the whole time, I had to look over at the crying, sniveling, popcorn butter-smeared mess to my right, taking her pulse and making sure my mom wasn't going to die like that lady that had a heart attack while watching this crap.
"Peggy Scott, a 56-year-old advertising sales manager, suffered the seizure during the 25-minute scene in which Jesus, played by James Caviezel, gets nailed to the cross."
Yeah, I remember that 25-minute scene.
Twenty-five fucking minutes.
The only tears that came out from my eyes were those tears that come from yawning. And I felt too ashamed even then to wipe them away. I wanted to turn around and announce, "These aren't real tears! It's just from yawning, I swear," but that probably wouldn't have gone too well.
But fuck it, I'm not giving Mel Gibson the satisfaction of having another pussy crying over this pile of tripe.
Nope.
What a bunch of self-deprecating, self-centered, pseudo-intellectual, materialistic sissies.
Not to rehash too much or anything, but why is it that so many potentially intelligent Asians TyPE LyK DiS?
And it's not just limited to puffy raver pants wearing, spikey haired middle school kids with glowsticks stuck up their dickholes, either.
Apparently there's somewhat of a middle-aged subculture of sexually frustrated 30-50 year old Asian man-children out there who want to seem young and hip (synonymous with unintelligent in this case) by extensively and compulsively using internet short hand and lots and lots of AIM smiley faces.
What the hell is wrong with you people?
Stop emailing me with this typographical garbage.
For example:
Subject: U're so seXXXxy...
:)...WonderZ how'Z fEel LiKe to make love 2 yOu..
clement1xx1@yahoo.com
I hate you.
I had to go to an 8:00 recitation for my bullshit Sociology course to listen to some antsy Korean girl talk about the topic she chose to do research on -- "Asian-American women who were born and raised in the U.S. are observed to follow their traditional patterns: respect males more than females."
Basically, all she did was get up in front of the 7 people of which my class is composed, started wringing her hands, and bitched for 20 minutes with her voice cracking with nervousness about how her mom wants her to get plastic surgery and how her brother always makes her bring him things from the refrigerator for him and how her father never lets her sit at the dining room table at dinner-parties because she's a girl, and how this all fits into the grand scheme of Asian girls being "submissive."
She pissed and moaned about all of this in a self-pitying way, very transparently awaiting the "Awwwww, that's so MEAN of them to treat you so BADLY" response -- which no one gave her.
Which was probably because:
1. Your mom wants you to get plastic surgery because... you're busted.
2. Your brother makes you get things from the refrigerator for him because he is a lazy. Fat. Ass.
3. Your dad doesn't let you sit at the dining room table at his little dinner parties because you're annoying and complain too much while wringing your hands. It's fucking distracting. Shoo.
I don't want to sound insensitive or anything, but goddamn, people.
Asian females are so convinced that they are so oppressed, that every chance they get to speak, they try to disguise their bitching as conversation or open discussion.
It's disgusting.
Stop tittering nervously, stop wringing your hands, wipe that insecure giggly smile off your goddamn face, and shut the hell up.
This is why I have such a deep-set rejection of Asian people.
They're always trying to live up to everyone else's standards. That's why they're so fucking competitive and bookish.
Girls are the worst though.
When two Asian girls who don't know each other pass each other on the street, they'll lock eyes and continue to do so until their lack of Exorcist-style 360 degrees head-swiveling ability stops them. It's not that they're checking each other's goods out or anything, it's an "I have to make sure that I'm better than you in all ways possible" stare-down showdown.
But, if they do know each other, they'll practically make out with each other's asses as much as possible, completely insincerely.
"Oh I LOVE YOUR BAG."
"I LOVE your hair."
"OMG YOUR JACKET IS SO CUTE."
[Peek-a-Foo]
