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.