Sex and Sandwiches

I think I'm updating way too often, but it'll slow down once school starts, or once I get a life.

This is a bit old, but if you haven't seen it, you should; or else your life just isn't worth it. I think it's somewhat appropriate, since it's Easter and the flash video includes bunnies. The song is called "Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me" by TISM (This is Serious Mum).

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/bunny.php

Or, for those of you who do not have Flash (The quality is much better on the Flash version):



Pathetically enough, I can relate with that bunny all too well. So if anyone's interested--more specifically, if any hot girl with low self-esteem and a fondness for making men hot sandwiches--call me, I'm desperate (Interesting/Useless fact: reading that last sentence without the bolded words still makes sense).



Speaking of women making sandwiches, this is misogyny at its worst--or best, if you're into that stuff (It's so wrong, but when I first read the article title, I cracked up):

http://www.forbes.com/technology/feeds/ap/2006/04/14/ap2670784.html

Pa. Man Kills Girlfriend Over Sandwiches
04.14.2006, 06:08 AM

A man threw a microwave at his girlfriend, then fatally beat her after she refused to heat up sandwiches, police said.

Walter S. Fordyce, 58, of Uniontown, remained jailed without bond Thursday on a charge of criminal homicide. It wasn't clear if he had an attorney.

Fordyce told police he began arguing with his live-in girlfriend, Mary McCann, 58, early Thursday.

After throwing her to the floor, Fordyce threw a microwave oven onto McCann's chest after she refused to heat up sandwiches for him, he told police. Fordyce also said he stomped on McCann's chest repeatedly then banged her head on the floor until she lost consciousness - but that he also said he didn't mean to kill her, police said.

"It was an accident. I didn't do it on purpose," police quoted Fordyce as saying.

Fordyce ran to a neighbor's house for help, but couldn't find anyone there to call 911, police said. After returning home and checking McCann for a pulse - and finding none - he went downstairs and drank a beer before going to another neighbor's home and asking them to call 911, police said.

Autopsy results were not immediately available.



For those of you who are too lazy to read that very, very short article, my favorite part is where the guy says, "It was an accident. I didn't do it on purpose". Oh yeah, I'm sure he was just kidding around when he "threw a microwave oven onto [her] chest" and "stomped on [her] chest repeatedly then banged her head on the floor until she lost consciousness". Real. Fucking. Funny.
The IB forces less bullshit out of people than this guy spits out.

Wait, that's not all. Not only did he have the sheer moxie to beat a girl to death over a sandwich, but he "drank a beer before going to another neighbor's home and asking them to call 911" after the first house he went to was empty. Gee, I guess all that walking around for help all the way to the house next door really gets you thirsty.

I seriously hope this guy never gets pussy again. In fact, this guy deserves a big fat dick up his ass when he goes to prison. Then he'll be the one heating up sandwiches--or should I say, MANWICHES?

Okay, that was bad.




Up-up, and away!

Something I just had to share with you all

I don't know who made it--it doesn't seem like it came from Despair, Inc. (www.despair.com)--but here it is, what is possibly the most awesome poster ever.

Fall Out Boy

This banner has been popping about lately, and I just couldn't help but notice how weird these guys look.

The first guy on the left with the glasses looks like he came out of an emo catalogue, and the second guy looks like a Good Charlotte reject with a bit of a..."flair". Well, maybe that's not the best word to describe him, since flair is "distinctiveness" with a positive connotation. No, that guy is just "distinct". Look at that guy, he has that "come hither so I can bite your cock" kind of look. Unless cock-biting becomes acceptable macho behavior, he really needs to stop using so much fucking eyeliner. I don't have anything against gay people, but seriously, I think he's probably the gayest guy I've ever seen, and that's counting the guys on "Queer Eye"--and those guys are pretty freakin' gay.

The third guy--well, he just looks... odd. He looks like a girl crossdressing to look like a soldier, sort of like a white, hillbilly version of Mulan. Again, I can't help but get a bit of a "gay" vibe from that guy. It wouldn't be much of a problem if they were very obviously a gay band, but they look like they're trying to be tough and macho. Like the second guy, whose threatening leer, as mentioned before, fails miserably (unless you're a gay man with a cock-biting fetish).

I do repect the last guy a bit though; he just looks like a regular guy. He has a look on his face that says, "What the fuck am I doing here?". There's also a sadness about him, as though if he is on the verge of breaking into tears, confessing how the other three band memebers sneak into his room every night to take turns giving him a Cleveland Steamer, threatening to skullfuck him with a steak knife if he doesn't comply. But the fact that he isn't trying to escape from the group does disappoint me. On the other hand, maybe he's just given up--worse yet, maybe the second guy bit off his cock, and now has nothing to live for.

Goddamn cab drivers: Part II

<=Goddamn Ticos

Ever been with a cab driver who didn't know where the fuck he was going? The kind you know you could navigate through the city better than even though you've never driven in your life? I've met plenty of those, enough to create a composite scenario of what it is like, in case you've never experienced it before.

It's bright and sunny, and everything's been going your way until you get a call from a friend. He asks you, "Hey, come over to my place! I've got beer and video games--shit your parents don't let you have! lol!" Angered by this open statement of pretension, you decide it's time for a killin', so you get dressed, grab your favorite hunting knife, and head out the door.

You stand on the sidewalk, waiting for a cab. It's about mid-day, so there's a lot of cabs going about, but most of them are filled. After about five minutes you hail a vacant cab.

You approach the cab casually, you tell the driver where you're headed. You barter for a moment and reach an agreement. You take the fact that he bartered as a hint that the driver knows where to go. But before you open that door, you realize something's not right.

Maybe it's the smell--the air. It could be just the mold growing inside the cab, maybe...
Maybe it's the smell of deception--a cabby's lie--a putrid, tortured air of a thousand mistreated fares that reaches out to you and says, "No, Kyu! Don't go in! It's not worth it! The driver's lying to you! He couldn't find your friend's house if he crashed into it with his Tico!"

Thinking yourself so clever, you reply, "Silly putrid, tortured air of a thousand mistreated fares. Of course he couldn't find the house if he crashed into it in a Tico--he'd be dead! rofls!"

So you get in...


TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*cough*cough*

Stupid shit I come up with in times of stress

I wrote this in twenty minutes on a scrap piece of paper after I finished a Spanish exam last year. I don't really know what to make of it, but it does show what kind of retarded shit goes on in my head when I'm under pressure.

What if our existence is just a concept? Perhaps the product of the deranged imaginations of a sentient being whose mind is so complex that our own minds lack the capacity to comprehend its very concept? What if its mind works in so many dimensions that its thoughts take on a greater form than does our own, which merely holds ideas in an abstract, intangible state. Perhaps its mind is capable of much greater things, and whose thoughts take on a greater form; perhaps we are the ideas themselves, or the means to preserve it, much like the electrons and charges that run our brain.
If it is a god, then why did he create us? To satiate its ego? To satiate its ego not by our actionas, but by the mere fact that we exist? Or perhaps we are merely the unfortunate byproduct of his mental processes.
I just realized that "mind" may not be an accurate way to describe it, though for our intents and purposes, it will have to do.
The questions is then, how do we know if our very existence is real? If we are mere products of an imagination, then relatively speaking, we are worth no more than the ideas we create. You can look at it optimistically: it may mean that our minds are infinitely valuable. However, a pessimistic viewpoint (the one that I tend to favor) would be that we are worthless.
The problem is that we cannot, due to our limited mental capacity, really know what is real, and if our reality is merely an illusion, it is only so to whatever created it, not us.

I think this was the result of residual bullshit expended during the exam.

Yellow people eat dogs, white people fuck them...

To each his own, I guess. Fuck those bitches!
(By the way, I can say "yellow people" because I am one)

http://www.roanoke.com/news/roanoke/wb/60764

Man accused of sex with pup; his lawyer cites brain damage

By Reed Williams

A 19-year-old man is accused of having anal sex with his sister's puppy at her Vinton home, according to his lawyer and authorities.

Frank Dalton Underwood was indicted April 7 on a felony charge of having carnal knowledge of a brute animal. He is scheduled to plead guilty next week in Roanoke County Circuit Court.

"It's the kind of case you're going to remember," said Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney Patrick Buchanan. "It's the first one I've ever seen."

The incident allegedly occurred Nov. 19 at the home of Underwood's sister and her husband on Old Virginia Avenue. Underwood had been staying at the house for a couple of months, said his lawyer, Paul Dull.

The couple went shopping for kerosene and left their 9-week-old pit bull in Underwood's care, Buchanan said.

They returned and noticed injuries to the dog's anus. They confronted Underwood and called Vinton police.

"I spoke with Mr. Underwood and he admitted to the offense," said Vinton police Sgt. Steven Doyle.

The dog was taken to a veterinarian and has recovered, Buchanan said.

Dull noted that his client has been cooperative with authorities.

He also said Underwood suffered brain damage four years ago when he was struck by a car while crossing the street.

"He has some both physical and mental conditions that all appear to be related to a traumatic accident," Dull said.

Said Buchanan: "I think this is more sad than criminal."

If convicted, the maximum possible punishment Underwood could face is five years in prison.

I wonder how awkward it is between the guy and his sister. Yeesh. Can you imagine what their conversation would be like?

"Hey, sorry I fucked your dog."
"It's okay, I would have fucked that little shitlicker anyway! lol!"

Okay, it wouldn't be anything remotely like that, but you get the idea.

Goddamn cab drivers

Living in Lima, I take a lot of cabs. I haven't bothered trying the combies(sp?), but from the looks of it--crowded and obnoxious, driven by a semi-suicidal driver--I don't think I want to.

But the cabs, I take plenty of those. Each time you hail down a cab, it's a bit of a gamble because well, the cab drivers here are such colorful characters.

There's the old guy with glasses thicker than a Lego block who can't hear you and you can't quite understand (your Spanish proficiency notwithstanding).

Then there's the wierd fat guy with whom the very fact that he can manage to get a driver's licence seems like a miracle--assuming he even has a licence. You can try to tell him all the directions you want, he's gonna pass about five blocks after the turn you pointed out.

There's also the wannabe hustler, they try to rip you off. Try. Now, I don't like getting ripped off any more than the next guy, but if there is some skill, some technique to it that I couldn't outsmart, then at least I could appreciate the quality of the grift, but when they can't even do it right, why bother? One guy tried to charge me 8 soles for what should be a five minute ride in his piece of shit Tico. Another guy had the audacity to try to charge me 15 for a four minute ride (from my place to Jockey Plaza). Now, they didn't even try to argue their point, they just saw that I was a "chino" in a fairly well-to-do neighborhood and decided to grift me.

Speaking of "chinos", there's the racist cab driver. I don't care what you say, Peru is a racist country. I know a lot of Peruvians say otherwise, that Peru is the friendliset country in South America, but that's a load of bullshit. The racist cab driver is just an example of racism here in Peru. He pretends to not understand your Spanish, he calls you "chino" repeatedly, and he tries to imitate what is his idea of Chinese, as if I would understand that gibberish. This type of cab driver may also be the aforementioned "wannabe hustler", but probably only if you're a chino or gringo or otherwise not Peruvian.

I'll continue this another time.

About parents

Coming from me, this is completely worthless, but at the risk of sounding like an angsty teenager, here's my opinion on parents:

First of all, parents justify their absolute control over you by saying that they gave you life. Well, did you ask for it? Were you ever given a chance to deny it?

No, of course not. That would be impossible--the point is, you didn't have a choice, nor did your parents give you something that you were in want of. How then, is "giving life" a favor? The world is filled with both good and bad things, and because of the latter, it would seem unethical to bring someone here. You can't guarantee that your child is going to be happy in life; and even if you were filthy rich and could provide all the pleasures in life, spoiling your child, wouldn't you still be controlling that child's life? Ask someone: would you rather be free of all obligations, have everything handed to you, and be ignorant of the world's affairs, or would you rather suffer and to keep your knowledge? A lot of people might choose the former, but others will choose the latter. The problem is that your child will be controlled, manipulated with or without their knowledge.

Now, you may ask, "But Kyu, if you were given the choice being of ignorant or nonexistence and alive, knowing, and suffering, what would you choose? If you're complaining so much, why don't you just kill yourself and be so like you never existed?" (Actually, I don't think anyone would ask me that, I'm just trying to make a point here). The reason I haven't already committed suicide is because I'm already a sentient being with the ability to make choices. I may have been forced into existence, but it doesn't mean I have to leave. Besides, I am instinctively programmed against suicide, given am instinct to survive, and I don't think I've ever been done so much harm to override that. My sentience keeps me from automatically rejecting my own existence.

Also consider the following: you have been infected with a disease. This disease will not kill you, but you will be in great pain for the rest of your life. However, you can choose to undergo an experimental treatment, the only drawback being that if it fails, you could be in even worse pain. Some would choose to undergo the treatment, others will not. Some may even consider suicide in such a case. But how would you like it if somebody made that choice for you. Might not be so bad if their decision coincided with your preference, but what if it didn't?

If your parents planned your conception, then they decided for you with complete disregard to how you may feel or how much you would suffer--you could be emotionally stable with an income going into six figures, or you could be a miserable cocksucker at the local crackhouse. That's a hell of a gamble. Also, when you consider the possible motives behind a planned conception, they look pretty selfish. Ask people with children why they decided to have babies and they will give you reasons like:
-Passing on the family name
-Always wanted to be a parent
-Social pressures/expectations
-They felt like it
-and other reasons that seem self-gratifying.

If your parents didn't plan your conception? Well then, that's what we call an "accident". You see, they were so wrapped up in their lust that they neglected to take the necessary precautionary measures; or they did, but did so knowing that no form of contraception is 100% effective. Either way, they fucked up, and nine months later, you plopped out of your mother's vagina. Yay!

Your parents don't own you so don't just follow them blindly, believing everything they say. Of course, I don't mean that you should stop caring for or loving them--that's your problem. If anything, they owe you. They knew what they were getting into when they decided to fuck; they knew the consequences of their actions. They feed you and clothe you because that is their obligation, not a favor to you. Sure, they could treat you like shit, but that wouldn't change the fact that they owe you, not own you. Besides, one of the reasons they're not treating you like shit is because they know they will feel guilty, and that's still self-gratifying. If beating you felt like jacking off you'd be a bloody pulp next to a semen stain on the carpet right now.

From the Notebook: At the Supermarket

I don't like people. To be more specific, I hate people in general, but I don't harbor unfriendly sentiments towards everyone. Sometimes, I begin to think that the human race is not all that bad, only to have this shit happen:

I go to the nearest supermarket (the Wong in Plaza Camacho) to buy some school supplies. I find what I came for, and get in line at the least crowded register. There are three people in line: me, an old lady with a basket of groceries, and a guy in a suit and tie. I hate the first guy the most, but that last guy is coming in a close second. Real close.

After the lady pays for the stuff, the prick in the suit and tie places a single bottle of shampoo (the girly kind with pink flowers on the label) and takes out his credit card.

I think to myself, "Great, this is gonna take a while". When I say this, I expect a delay of no more than a few minutes. As with any other time when I expect something, I am disappointed.

The card gets rejected, yet the prick in the suit and tie keeps insisting to the cashier that there is , or should not be, anything wrong with the card; he even blames her incompetent card-swiping skills. Angry (as if he should be the one angry), he takes out his cellphone and makes a call. He's talking to the person on the other end like it's his friend. At this time I look around and the least crowded register consists of one lady with 2 carts of groceries, so I stay where I am.

The prick in the suit and tie hangs up and dials again. This time, he is speaking less casually. After a while, he starts getting louder, especially as he laughs.

Why the FUCK is he laughing? The guy's a complete fucking dick, that's why. What kind of a disgusting pus-brained shit thinks it's funny to have a card get rejected while trying to buy a bottle of cunt soap? What the FUCK is wrong with this guy?

Of course, I move to another line to pay for my things--with cash.

The damndest thing of all is that I saw the guy's wallet when he took out his card, and he was fucking loaded with cash; soles, dollars--bills thicker than the fucker's toupee.

Introduction

I've never been too fond of blogs, and I don't think I will ever make a habit of reading others' blogs, but I present you this blog as my way of justifying an otherwise meaningless existence.

First post

A giant leap backwards...