How to lose friends and alienate people

You know what one of the worst feelings in the world is? That moment of truth when you realize that someone that you once respected is in fact completely undeserving of that respect.

Six months ago I would never have guessed that my life would get flip-turned upside down into an episode of Gossip (Gothip?) Girl. Six months ago, I would have laughed in your face if you'd even suggested such a thing. But I know better now.

It would appear that certain people just can't seem to keep their tools in their sheaths, so to speak. Lust can drive even the strongest man down a dark path. Just look at that Samson bloke, meets a pretty face and lets her cut off all his hair. But anyway, I digress.

Point is, there are some things that you just don't do to your friends. Hell, it'd probably be a pretty scummy thing to do to a complete stranger. Date a friend's ex two weeks after they break up? Check. Withhold this from everyone due to fear of being found out? Check. Continue comforting said friend even while dating his ex? Check. Decide to hold a "meeting" to talk about "feelings" because word finally leaked out? MOTHERFUCKING CHECK, IT'S ALL ABOARD THE SCUMBAG TRAIN AND THERE'S NO HOLDING BACK.

Now, I have been accused in the past of having a somewhat narrow view on matters such as these (including my parents, I might add; they're awfully libertarian about this sort of thing for a middle-aged Chinese couple). The Bro Code is my Bible, and every night before I sleep I pray to our Heavenly Bro to endow all of his bro-children with Bro-telligence. I've also been accused of investing too much emotion into friends' squabbles. "Your problem," my friend would say, "is that you empathize too much." Better too much than too little, I would say. If Iago had several slivers of empathy, Othello would still be a-moorin'.

All in all, this weekend has turned into somewhat of a...bro-tastrophe, one could say (and goddammit Rebecca Black, this Friday fucking sucked). Lucky for me, I have my friends Molson and Labatt to keep me company.

And as one friend commented on this whole debacle, "it's like Yoko Ono meets the Beatles all over again!" And you know what, he's right. Even the ethnicity is about 50% correct. And hell, if that makes me Ringo Starr...well. That's okay in my books.

LOVE IS IN THE AIR, NOT IN YOUR PANTS, MORON: part 2

You know shit just got serious when I return to blogging after a five month hiatus.

While this lingering feeling of malaise is certainly not new, certain recent events could be interpreted as the straw that broke the camel's back, or so the saying goes. For those who know me well, I am not one who speaks frankly of my true feelings often. Using humour to disengage from an uncomfortable situation is my forté. This talent, I find, has allowed me to navigate through most of my high school and young adult life without much drama.

Thus, it is with much regret and yearning for halcyon days that I now proceed.

The astute reader may have deduced from the title of my post that this post has something to relationships. Or, shall I say, "relationshits". It astounds me how so many people feel that they are somehow...incomplete, as a person, if they do not have a (temporary) companion to share their life with (indeed, some almost feel entitled to one, but more on that later). Invariably, I will be inundated with the laments of my less fortunate friends, usually around mid February.

Shit, son, maybe you ought to take a long hard look at yourself before you start criticizing the fairer sex. It is my sincere belief that if you are not able to be happy alone, then you have no right (nor capacity) to be in a relationship.

Quite frankly, I normally could not care less about other peoples' relationship woes. I will dispense advice if asked but as a rule, I keep my hands clean. Life is easier that way. If you decide to make a fool of yourself in your pursuit of happiness I will consider you a temporary amusement, but will largely refrain from criticism of your actions. It is when, through your ham-fisted attempts at courtship that you create ripples through our group's dynamics that I take offence.

If someone were to ask me, hypothetically, about any deal-breakers I may have in terms of friendship or relationships, they would be as follows:

Selfishness. It may be true that when push comes to shove, we are all selfish people acting in our own self-interest. However, when the cost of reaching your goal comes at the cost of someone else's happiness, that's when I draw the line. I do appreciate the irony when the goal and that someone else are coincidentally the same, but that's a story for another time.

Lack of self-respect. I find it difficult to respect someone who does not respect themself. After all, isn't respect the foundation of any lasting relationship? The only feeling I can conjure up for anyone with no self-respect is pity, a feeling which also applies to gingers and homeless people.

Disloyalty. You really don't need a PhD in Brolosophy to grasp the meaning of loyalty. Don't backstab your friend. Say what you mean, and mean what you say. Don't make empty promises. This trait, if anything, is the kryptonite of any successful relationship. If socializing with your friends feels like socializing with the Medicis, there's something very wrong.

Now before someone accuses me of stirring up the hornet's nest, that I'm making things more complicated, that I am behaving mawkishly, that I am in fact guilty of disloyalty myself...I will contend that I am the only one who cares enough or is willing to expose the elephant in the room. One that has, in fact, been in the room for months. I will not deny that this post was incredibly cathartic to write, but I do not speak these words with pleasure. To paraphrase Sophocles, no one loves the messenger who brings bad news. Don't read too deeply into this post either. It is not meant to be an exercise in "six degrees of separation".

As for whether or not I will continue to blog on a regular basis, that remains to be seen. In all honesty, this was one of the first times in recent memory that I've felt strongly enough about an issue that I felt the need to write about it (Dragon Age 2 is another, but that post is still in the works). Several friends of mine have started blogs of their own, so I may be motivated to do more writing in my spare time. We shall see how this story goes.

'Til next time.

Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that whenever something becomes hugely popular, will also become the object of ire and disdain by some solely for the sake of being contrarian. Twilight, a young-adult “vampire-romance” (is that a subgenre now, Wikipedia?) novel written by Stephenie Meyer, is widely adored by 13-year-old girls and 40-year-old housewives nationwide, yet reviled Internet book-critics. Why all the hate?

From what I've gleaned from friends and various Internet forums (mainly Reddit), the consensus boils down to the following points:

1. It gives young, impressionable girls unrealistic expectations of sexual relationships;

2. It is poorly written;

3. It depicts vampires in an unrealistic manner;

4. It turned my girlfriend/wife/SO into a vampire-loving whore, and I am now being compared to Edward Cullen at every turn;

5. And finally, the fanbase is largely pants-on-head retarded.

To which I say...

1. Disney has been doing it for eighty-seven years, and nobody bitches about how The Little Mermaid curtails female independence.

2. This remains to be seen, but in my experience most young-adult novels aren't beacons of literary excellence.

3. As there are no historical records of vampires in existence, this particular point of criticism is void. Alternatively, would you prefer every literary trope to remain static and unchanging?*

4. Why blame Ms. Meyer for the failings of your own relationship?

5. You could look at anything that is widely popular and find equally stupid fans, and the converse is also true. Not everyone who plays Dungeons & Dragons lives in their parents' basement, not ever pro-footballer runs a dog-fighting ring, and not every Twilight fan prefers the warm (cold?) embrace of an imaginary vampire over that of their real-life partner.

In an attempt to evaluate whether Twilight really is the literary abomination that so many claim it to be, my plan is as follows: I will read several chapters of the book every day, and blog about my experiences here. Friends have questioned my sanity in my decision to embark upon my quest, but my reasons for doing so are twofold. Firstly, as an English minor the idea that a mere book is capable of kindling such vitriol is rather curious to myself. Secondly, written anything solely for the sake of just writing for a very long time.

And thus, my very own “Twilight Saga” saga begins.

*Take high fantasy, for example. Ever since Mr. Tolkien brought Middle Earth to life, elves have possessed an ethereal beauty and excelled at ranged combat. Dwarves have lived underground, were fierce warriors, and master smiths. Orcs were evil and uncivilized. After reading about the elven scout Dal'Shirai gracefully swing down from an oak branch while her long, flaxen hair trails languidly behind her for the fifteenth time, one is ready for some change (I'm looking at you, Bioware).

Maladroit terrapin

It has been said that Chuck Norris, in his infinite wisdom, once had an awkward moment just to know what it felt like.

Said moments appear to be happening to me at a rather frequent rate as of late. For example...

Scene one. A couple weeks ago, me and my mates were volunteering for the Richmond Center for Disability. Prior to that, we'd taken a course on sensitivity training. What to say, what not to say; common sense stuff, really. Then, during an activity involving compasses and bags of eggs, Friend A says something, and Friend B responds with this gem:

That's so retarded.

He realizes his faux pas a second later. Cue three Asian guys staring at each other in horror. Volunteer C is staring at us with murder in her eyes. The...uh...offended demographic continues searching for eggs. I guess we were lucky nobody was really paying attention to our shenanigans.

Scene two. Me and my (different) mates (I've been saying mates a lot lately; I'm using it ironically so it's not like I'm a hipster or anything) are just hanging out, discussing the meaning of life, typical post-adolescent shit. The topic turns to relationships. Someone says something along the lines of "everybody being in a relationship nowadays", and I make an off-handed remark in the vein of "maybe I should see about getting one myself, nudge wink say no more". The topic immediately turns to...

What kind of girls do Vass (me) like?!? My face: D:<

I mean, it's not as if I can bring my real fetishes out now, right?

Moving right along...

I don't think I can look at a chicken wing for another week or so. Or a piece of sushi, for that matter. I learned a valuable lesson yesterday, after AYCE dinner with my mates on the eve of Stamkos' future wife's wisdom teeth extraction. And that is: never go to AYCE with Asian girls, they eat like chipmunks and the menfolk are stuck with the task of finishing up the leftover food. Oh, and when playing a game where you name car manufacturers alphabetically, "Mazda" is not a suitable answer if you're going first.

Actually, I'm hungry now. I could go for some...wings.

I think I should cut this post short, it's 5am and I'm just rambling. It's like I'm writing stream of consciousness or something. Like James Joyce. With less fucking the farts out of...nevermind.

p.s. girls are so forward these days! The other day I was on the Skytrain with a friend of mine and this girl, out of the blue, asks my friend: "Where'd you get that backpack? I'm going on a backpacking trip to somewhere and I'm looking for something similar and something something..." I stopped paying attention there. Point is, the question was just...random. No lead-in, no introduction, nothing. And after he answered the question the girl didn't even take the conversation anywhere. She just stopped talking, leaving friend and me...well, talking about backpacks. Maybe she just really sucks at hitting on guys, or something.

p.p.s. I've only just realized that Weezer's Pinkerton album is chock full of references to Puccini's Madama Butterfly, which I saw at the QE Theatre this past Tuesday (I guess I am a hipster, after all). The album name itself, "listening to Cio-Cio-San" (El Scorcho), the closing song ("I told you I would return when the Robin makes his nest), etc. Gosh, no wonder this album sold terribly in America. Nation of Philistines, the lot of 'em.

Go web!

So I woke up this morning (not feeling particularly like P. Diddy) and there's a fucking spider on my wall.

It wasn't one of those small, harmless ones either. This fucker was larger than my thumbnail. So what do I do?

I didn't want to squish it, as that would leave an unsightly stain on my wall. So I hit upon the idea of scooping the spider up gently with a piece of paper and flinging it outside. Unfortunately the spider had other plans.

As soon as the paper touched the spider it immediately fell off the wall onto the carpet. Which was brown. Like the spider.

So now I have a spider lurking about in my room. FML.

DELICIOUS CAKE OM NOM NOM

Or, the cake is a lie ;_;

Anyway I've developed a new scale to measure female attractiveness, as I feel that a numerical scale is too constrictive in calculating something as diverse as physical attraction.

"Pastry Scale of Female Sexual Attractiveness" is a follows, from top (will sell soul to mate with) to bottom (ugly as sin):

Tiramisu - ex. Emma Stone

Chocolate cake - ex. Zooey Deschanel

Sponge Cake - ex. Gemma Arterton (shown on the left; although Daniel Craig's not bad either.)

Cupcake - ex. Miley Cyrus

Pop tart - ex. Post-addiction Lindsay Lohan

Fruit cake - ex. Courtney Love

McDonald's Apple Pie - Oprah (on a good day)

There's a rather steep decline near the end of the scale, and that is this system's greatest flaw. There simply are no pastries that you'd ingest if you were drunk, then regret it the next morning.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. Have a nice day.

p.s. happy birthday Chuu!

The best laid schemes of mice and men...

Today is my birthday.

Happy birthday! I'm no longer a teenager, which makes me sad. What's worse, I'm an adult without a driver's license. Shame on me.

So, on a whim (or maybe it was planned, nobody tells me these things), my friends and I went to Playland today. For those of you who are not from the Lower Mainland, Playland is an amusement park. One of its main attractions is the "flume ride", where visitors sit in simulated logs which run on tracks immersed in water. Essentially, the point is to...well I guess the point is to get wet but everyone makes a show of not getting wet.

Because of physics and the angle at which the logs enter the water at the bottom of the slide, whoever sits in the front of the log would suffer the most (needless to say, the heavier you are, the bigger the spash you'll make, etc.). The discussion regarding who sat where went like this:

Girl 1: Shotty back!
Girl 2: Shotty middle!
Me: ...shit.

So everyone (except me) was happy with the seating arrangements, and we settled down into our seats. Then, disaster struck.

A fat caucasian couple sat down in front of us. As a result, everyone was soaked :/

Later on, during dinner, after the server was informed that it was my birthday, he asks me, totally out of the blue:

Server: Is one of these girls your girlfriend?
Me: *shifty eyes* NO.

Several minutes pass.

Server: So, is your girlfriend not here?
Me: ........I don't have a girlfriend.

Maybe I'm so irresistable that it was unimaginable that I, of all people, would be single.

Oh, and we saw the Japanese Emperor's motorcade after we exited the restaurant. Arigatou gozaimasu~

DEATH TO THE INFIDELS.

...or something like that.

Too much Dawn of War is bad for you. I kept hearing the lines that Space Marine units spout inside my head.

Anyway, so today after class I hung out with lemonade (yes, anthropomorphic citrus drinks are the new thing) at Metrotown. As a result, I learn many new things.

1. At Kingspark Goodfood, one can buy a complete meal with THREE BIG SCOOPS OF RICE for only $6. And for only 75 cents more, you even get a LEMON DRINK.

I am inherently distrustful of Engrish-named stores, so I stuck with my spicy wonton in soup.

2. Macroeconomics online quizzes are more fun when done with a partner. Especially if said partner has no knowledge of economics whatsoever.

3. A fruitless quest for "shoe goo" was had, but not before delicious Tim Horton's iced capp was consumed. I think this list is turning more into a "things we saw" than a "things I learned".

4. On a sudden whim, we visited Games Workshop to check out Warhammer 40k figurines. There, a very enthusiastic salesperson accosted us and told us many interesting things about Space Marines. He could've become a Chaplain, with all his zealotry (For the Emperor!).

5. Apparently girls get a discount on MTG tournament entry fees. Yes, they're that desperate.

6. I have this urge to buy Halo/RE5 (Sheva!!!)/Twilight figurines and mash them together. Especially Sheva and Edward. MmMmMmMMMmmm.

7. Lemonade and I got into a little debate about the merits of Green Day. Well, we're in agreement now, their new album's actually more than half decent.

8. As I was walking home, I saw this middle-aged Southeast Asian woman walking towards me, wearing a pair of tight TNA-esque pants with "Loose Thing" emblazoned across the front. Yes, I kid you not.

On a more somber note, the front page of the Globe and Mail today was about the disappearance of Tori Stafford, late of Woodstock, Ontario. More specifically, the cops have arrested (but not yet Tazored) the two suspects in her case. They also believe that the girl is dead.

Man never ceases to surprise me with his savagery.

Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts...

...or, Chubby Girls and Tighter Levi's :(

Seriously, what's with the fascination with curve-hugging jeans, girls? Yes, I'm looking at you, girl sitting beside me on the bus today. And you too, girl walking in front of me on the way to class.

I mean, if the point is to look desirable to the opposite sex (or the same sex, whatever floats your canoe), I can tell you now, it doesn't work.

Especially when it jiggles.

;_;

"King of kings"

Three things I've learned after watching Watchmen.

1. Humans are inherently evil.

2. It is acceptable to sacrifice the few to save the many (Dickens would not be pleased).

And lastly...

3. Rape is awwwwwwwright, as long as the baby turns out fine.

The end.

Post V-Day Stress Disorder

Ahh spring, the magical time of ye-WAIT NONE OF THAT NOW, WAKE UP.

I still remember in elementary school, when everyone gave everyone V-Day cards. Then as we got older, the number of cards would diminish every year (for me, anyway). At around grade 4, the influx of cards would stop. So ronery ;_;

But anyway, that wasn't the story I wanted to tell today.

A couple of friends and I were walking down to the delicious local Burger King for some post-work dinner (yea, I worked on the 14th), and lo and behold, one of them suddenly exclaims...

Friend 1: Hey guys! There a chick crying in that cafe!
Me: Where? Lets go comfort her!
Friend 1: She probably got dumped by her boyfriend on Valentine's Day.
Friend 2: Maybe it's just because of the economy.
Me: If it was the economy, she should've been crying yesterday.

What interesting friends I have.

In conclusion, the moral of the story is: no matter how lonely and depressed you think you are, there is always, always, someone more lonely and depressed than you. So if you put everything into context, your life ain't that bad afterall.

Cheerio.

16 things I hate about you.

This doesn't really count as a post since it's already been done on Facebook so...just take this as a rehash post-count +1 thing. Anyhow. 16 random facts about me:

1.I have never kissed a girl.

2.Contrary to popular belief, I am not a weeaboo. I merely enjoy spouting random Japanese phrases at inopportune times desu.

3.My dad buys most of my clothes for me. Especially pants. Without him, I'd be pantless.

4.I think music elitists are idiots. That said, THE JONAS BROTHERS FUCKING SUCK.

5.I am not actually “ronery”. I just tend to indulge in the more melancholic aspects of life. Although, I don't think anyone will believe me when I say this.

6.The only book/movie/etc. to make me cry, ever, was Three Comrades by Erich Maria Remarque. Hitler probably read the book and decided that since Jews were so depressing, he'd kill them all.

7.I prefer Pepsi over Coke.

8.I'm so skinny, people frequently mistake me for an anorexic. That said, girls are often jealous of my svelte figure.

9.I love (Asian) horror movies. Problem is, all of my friends are pansies so I never actually get to watch any.

10.I don't think I'm a very interesting person. It's only been 9 points and I'm already running out of things to say about myself.

11.I am not against lolicon. I may not endorse it, but I am also not against it. Take that as you will.

12.My iPod is my best friend. I forget my cellphone, keys, and wallet, but never my iPod.

13.Roulette by System of a Down is my favourite song at this exact moment in time.

14.I browse 4chan, but only /a/, /v/, and sometimes /ck/.

15.Sometimes I surprise even myself with my immaturity.

16.That's what SHE said.



So ronery ;_;

Big Brother is watching

So I was browsing YouTube today and I came across something disturbing.

You know how YouTube has a "Recommended for You" section, where they suggest videos that you may be interested in? I found this gem on that list today:



Do they think I'm a pedophile or something?!? Those girls aren't even legal! I can kinda pictures the FBI monitoring that video, tracing the IP addresses of anyone that watches it. Then showing up at their door. "Sir, we've been informed that you have been watching girls in skimpy skirts dancing on YouTube. Please come with us."

Those girls sure have nice..........................................ears.

"A guru with karreidoscopu eyes"

He sounds like fucking Scooby Doo after a night overindulging in wasabi.

My head hurts...

The title's not supposed to be deep or referencing something. It really does hurt right now.

Anyways, I was talking to a friend and the topic of French came up during the conversation. She asked me to say something in French. I told her that I (almost) failed it in high school. We concluded that I would most probably not be able to survive in France as I would only be able to:

1. Ask to sleep with someone;
2. Ask permission to use the washroom;
3. Tell everyone that the cheese is delicious.

In any case, this is no cause for alarm as I'm not planning a trip to France anytime soon. Those people are only good for making champagne and losing wars.

Q: Why wasn't Jesus born in France?
A: Because they couldn't find three wise men and a virgin.

p.s. As a part of my nonexistent New Year's resolutions I've decided to post here on a more regular basis. A decently sized post every Thursday sounds good.

p.p.s. After watching White Album I felt a sudden urge to make this into an anime blog. But...that would require a lot of work and I'm not particularly fond of that. We'll see how it goes.

Once upon a midnight dreary

First things first.

IT'S ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS OUTSIDE. Everything's covered in a fine layer of white. Except. The snow's so fucking deep that I can't go outside because, well, I don't own snowshoes.

Anyways, for the topic of the day: I'm now officially an insomniac.

Recently (i.e. after exam season) I've started a trend of staying awake until around 6 in the morning (cs:s sessions, anime/manga marathoning, etc.) and then waking up sometime later in the evening. It's gotten to the degree that I'd forego sleep for a day because, well, it's already too bright outside for me to fall asleep. And it's winter time now.

I've learned several things during this time:

1. It gets rather lonely at night, mainly because there's nobody online (baaawwww).
2. You can never have too much coffee.
3. Gaming skill is apparently not affected by degree of wakefulness >.>
4. Girls with yaoi complexes can be scary things, indeed.
5. IRC Mafia is even more messed up than its real-life counterpart.
5.5. Spreading AIDS can be fun.
6. 2D is awesome.

Needless to say I'm oftentimes not-quite-here during the time when most people are most active. Sorry for the Rock Band suckage guys...now you know.

(Incidentally, someone broke the drum pedals yesterday, har har.)

I bought Left 4 Dead a week ago, and I must say it's the most fun I've had in a multiplayer, perhaps to date. Playing as the survivors isn't much fun though; in that regard it's much the same as any other shooter out there: enemies come, point and click, move on (although I must say the AI is superb and the graphics are pretty). What's REALLY awesome is playing as the special Infected. You lurk in the darkness/corner/rooftop and wait as an unsuspecting Survivor runs past. Online griefing at its best.

There is one character that ilicits some unintended comedy though. Zoey the cute, Chuck Taylor-wearing college chick. One has to wonder about her sleeping arrangements, trapped in "safe rooms" with three other men. Anyhow, there is a new rule in place: Zoey MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO DIE during games, as she is the last hope of mankind. Which leads to some hilarious situations, as the special Infected almost invariably target her during versus games, leading to exclamations of genuine grief and rage.

One last thing. Christmas is almost here! And it seems like we'll get one with snow, for once.

For those of you lacking fe/male comfort this holiday season: string up some mistletoe on a streetlamp, and lie in wait (should be easy with all this snow around). Then when an unsuspecting passerby passes by...you spring your trap. Flawless victory!

p.s. Santa Claus is a fucking pedo, seriously. I mean, why else would he know where ALL THE KIDS IN THE WORLD live, as well as a list of who's been NAUGHTY OR NICE? Definitely suspicious. The FBI should keep him on the watchlist. That is all.

Dericious Grape Fravour~

So, I have it on good authority that boinking a vampire feels kinda like schliking a popsicle.

What say you, Twilight fans?

Oh, you

Working for a scanlation group does have its hazards, I suppose.

We miss you, moo.

I have a confession to make. I used to play Counter-Strike: Source religiously. I'm somewhat ashamed of that fact, but it's true.

And there was one server that I'd always play on. NG's 24/7 Office Hideout. Mainly because the playerbase was relatively mature and I had decent ping on the server. I played enough that I'd hover around the 250th place mark, so naturally I got to know a couple of the regulars by name.

One of them was moo.

I logged on for the first time in two weeks today, and the first thing that I see is that moo had died a couple of days ago while on duty in Iraq.

It's rather different when someone you know through online channels die. It feels almost...less real than any other death. You keep expecting to seem them magically pop up. But that is surely not going to happen.

RIP, mate.

"No! Don't put it there!"

So I was on my way home on the Skytrain today, listening to Berlin's "Take My Breath Away", and watching the clouds go by. At that moment in time, all was good in my world. The guy sitting next to me didn't smell too bad, my exam was still 22 hours away, and there was a cute girl sitting two rows to the front and one row to the left for me to ogle at. BUT THEN. I see it. A travesty most foul, occurring right in front of my eyes. It was...


Time and the Earth stood still. I was flabbergasted. What the heck is this guy trying to pull? Is he trying to...I don't even want to describe it, otherwise I'd have to change the content rating for this blog. His pelvis was literally ten centimeters from the girl's face. The girl had her legs wrapped around his legs and he was bending over and oh God I can't continue this.

Message to all you budding exhibitionalist porn stars out there: please don't do this on a fast moving train. After all, if it comes to a sudden stop, inertia may cause certain...stuff...to fly in my direction. So please. Backyard or something, please.