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Posts Tagged ‘funny’

4th of July was a lot of fun bonding with my old high school friends again and being reminded exactly why our friendships have withstood the test of time, distance and even absence. We have all built our lives apart from each other. But every now and again, we come back, gravitating towards the sense of family that was built around Forensics, around weekends upon weekends spent in hotel rooms and airplanes traveling from one competition to another. This sense of family was also built around the same kinds of affinity for shenanigans, practical jokes, and theatricality.

So, on this particular 4th of July, while playing wii games and some weird coin toss game that Monte invented, and even a game of almost-tag, the following “punishments” were bestowed on the losers:

If you lose, you have to:

  1. Do your best Michael Jackson impersonation.
  2. Perform a 1 minute choreographed routine.
  3. Take a shot of “Git Nekkid” –> a special blended drink by Monte himself
  4. Do the Robot.

Here’s a vid of Sky and JP doing their “Too Sexy” routine, announced by Homie G himself.

Luckily, this was the only thing caught on video.

Haha!

Good times, guys! As always.

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ZzzzzZ in Every Bottle…

…and No Kidding.

When I’m stressed, I tend to become insomniac. I always feel like there’s one more thing I could have done today, or one other thing that I could have memorized, or one other thing I should not have done (such as watch cartoons like Hoodwinked). So, I figure that I need to reboot my circadian rhythm. I’ve been a fan of Neuro Sonic and Neuro Bliss.  So, today on a break, I went downstairs to Famima and bought a bottle of Neuro Sleep.

I drink this bottle of Neuro Sleep, and 20 minutes later I get this distinct woozy, almost drunken feeling. One moment, I’m sitting there typing about Justiciability for a Constitutional Law essay and bam! I feel like I’m about to fall over. I sort of catch myself and realize I’m distinctly leaning over to the right.

Yes, I can barely keep my head up.

Whatever is in that Neuro Sleep stuff is, it works. I don’t know if I wanted it to work this well…cuz I can barely finish a coherent thought and typing this review is arduous.  I thought I’d have an hour or so before I’d get woozy.

Wow. I’m kind of impressed. And woozy. Good night, world.

i loveeee youuuuu! (that’s the drink talking. just sayin’.)

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Ever met anyone who overwhelmed you just by being? Yeah…when Evee and @Sigh asked me about him, the only word that really came into my mind was “overwhelming.”

Let’s call him McDreamy cuz even Eon agrees on that count. Haha.

Almost everything about him overwhelmed me. I mean, just looking into his eyes (“are they ‘dreamy’?” asks Eon) is overwhelming. What are you trying to do, dude? Steal my soul? Even @Sigh had to go with an “Oh, shit.” at the sight of his picture. Jared Leto much anyone?

Overwhelming, I tell you. But still dreamy.

And then, there’s his life resume. He’s been everywhere. He’s done things I’ve only ever wished I could. He’s actually helped people. No, scratch that. He has changed people’s lives. Katrina, he was there. Impoverished countries, he’s established foundations and gone to help. Homeless people, he is armed with nail and hammer with Habitat 4 Humanity.

He has traveled. He takes the kind of travel pictures I’ve only ever dreamed I had the vision for. He meets the locals, follows them into places that only locals would ever consider “normal” by any stretch of the word. He finds the beauty and the commonality in the foreign and different.

He dives into new endeavors with an enthusiasm and carelessness of a guy who can’t possibly fail. He’s going to start a band. Just ‘cuz. He rides a motorcycle in a tuxedo to go to a friend’s wedding. He’ll run after the guy who stole his shirt at knife point. He’s had short hair, and he’s had Jesus-hair. He’s had scruff, a full beard, and been clean-shaven. He’d show up dripping wet from a downpour just because he said he would. He doesn’t care about appearances at all. I wonder how you had to be raised to simply not care. To be so laid back and comfortable in your own skin that the possibility of looking like a drowned rat in front of new people doesn’t faze you.

His friends ask him two things: “What are you up to now?” and “Where in the world are you?”

But, I don’t really know if I’m impressed. I’m overwhelmed.

Part of me is more impressed with the guy who has the steady professional, slightly boring and possibly spiritually unfulfilling job. But then I’d know I can count on someone who will be there. I am more impressed with the guy who can make me feel safe instead of awed. I feel more comfortable with the one who I know is grounded instead of spirited. Is that bad? I think it’s just about safety.

But then…maybe I’m just jealous of the free-spirit of McDreamy. Maybe I wish I had more to tell about me than, “Oh, I’m studying for the bar.” I mean to a guy who spent nearly a decade in four different colleges (just because he could) simply for the fun of learning, that doesn’t seem like such a big deal.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s the prospect of not knowing how I could contribute into his life in any meaningful way that really overwhelms me. Hmmm…

But as I always say with these things, “We’ll see.”

And he’s still so damn pretty.

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…again.

In yet another coffee shop, in another city, while still studying for the Bar, I get another random stranger offer me his phone number.

And yes, this guy’s older, too. Another Sugar-Daddy on the prowl. This time, he writes plays and composes music. He says he works in the industry. *coughs* He told me to “go ahead, you can Google me.”

I smiled and said, “Maybe later tonight. I actually don’t get the wireless signal here.” –> which was true…and the reason why I sometimes go to that cafe. It prevents me from hopping online in search of a worthy distraction.

He invited me to a jazz concert. I politely declined, telling him about how busy I was studying for the bar.

“I’m really good at what I do,” he says.

I smile. “I’m sure you are.” I said with grave platitude.

He grins. “You can tell I’m a little cocky, can’t you.”

I give him another bland look and shrug. “Let’s just call it confidence for now.”

He bursts out laughing and declares that he likes me.

After a good thirty minutes of talking to me from the other table, I get a text from a good friend, JJC, to go work out. I was slightly upset that those thirty minutes were robbed from my study schedule, but…this guy was kind of entertaining.

But nonetheless, those are thirty minutes of non-law-school-learning.  When he saw me packing up, he strolled over and took one of my notecards. (No, not a post-it note this time). “Here, darling, let me give you my number. You should really call me.”

I smile and nod. “It was nice meeting you.” I leave quickly, wondering the whole time why I can’t just allow myself to be Sugar Daddied.

It would certainly please the wallet so.

Oh well. Here’s another number to add to the stack of “iunno what to do with you.”

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While hiking through Yosemite National Park we pass by this hollowed out tree. I wondered out loud what could have done this to a tree. My youngest brother, graduate of Stanford Engineering, Physics and Material Sciences immediately pipes in, “Lighting.”

But of course, because he is so full of random information, he just has to continue. For the next ten minutes, we stand in front of this true as he explains how the intense heat and energy of a lightning strike causes the sap in trees to expand so much that it literally splits from the inside out and becomes hollowed.

I never knew that.

Now I know.

I’ve also learned about catastrophic failures when things break, and different kinds of glass cracks. Way to go for having a walking encyclopedia like my brother.

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…um…okay. I guess.

_________________________________________________________________

Today, I was sitting in the coffee shop studying for the California Bar when this guy just comes up to me and asks me if I thought the music was too loud. I look up, pull out one headphone, assess the coffee shop music and give a small cursory nod of agreement. “Yeah, it’s kind of loud,” I agree.

He nods, “That’s what I thought. I just asked them to lower the volume.”

I shrug, pop my earphone back on, then turn back to my books.

“So, do you live around here?”

I pause in the middle of trying to remember exactly how to analyze res ipsa loquitur and look up at him again. I pop out the earphone again. “What?” I ask, politely.

“Do you live in downtown?”

I’m a nice person. I wouldn’t just give this guy the death glare. But I was mildly irritated. I was focused dammit. Do you know how hard it is to get into the zone with Torts?!?

So, I give him a small smile. “Yeah, I do.”

“It’s a nice area.”

Really? Really?! Small talk? I nod. “I like it, yeah.”

I try to turn back away. I mean, it was obvious, right? He’s standing over my table, I’ve got my laptop, my books and an assortment of papers all around me, and I’m popping my earphone back in.

“So you’re in law, huh?”

OMG. If only lasers came out of my eyes.

“Yeah…I’m actually studying for the Bar…”

“That’s cool. Where did you go to school?”

Can someone please tell me how to not be evil and cut this person off? Cuz it turns out, I don’t know how, and I spent a good solid 20 minutes talking to this guy.

I find out he’s a neurosurgeon. He owns a condo in downtown and a house in Newport Beach. How can someone so successful and awesome on a resume just not get that I was in the zone?

Finally, he goes off, grabs a seat somewhere and reads the paper.

An hour later, he’s back. “Hey, so I’m leaving. Let me give you my number.”

I’m snapped out of my zone again. Wtheck, man?! I have a schedule. A regimen.

And besides, how do I say, “Actually, no, don’t.” or even politely smile and say, “I’d rather you didn’t.”???

So, I smile politely and say, “Um, okay?”

He takes my post-it pad and tears off the front page where I had scribbled some pages on the book I had to review and writes his number(s) down. Wha—? Nobody rips off just anybody’s post-it notes! NOOOO!

He looks at me, straight in the eye. I swear to you it was like the staring game. I was too scared to blink. “Call me,” he says.

Um…no? I really don’t want to? — again, how does one really say that?!?

I don’t really say anything. Maybe I mumbled an ‘okay’ or smiled and nodded. I don’t know. He waves and leaves the coffee shop.

I sigh. Here’s one more number I don’t know what to do with.

So, I don’t get it: Aren’t guys supposed to ask for my digits?  What’s with the “let me leave you my number” or “here’s my number if you want to hang out” or the “I left something on your desk”?

Coop says it’s a no-risk move for a guy.

What about for the girl?

Because, sure, while I didn’t particularly like the intrusion of the coffee-shop guy, there was one guy that gave me his number. But I wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of friendship or interest. And don’t get me wrong, I am interested in him. But man, now the ball was on my court and I don’t know what to do!?! I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

I guess I’m a girl in the traditional sense. I like being pursued. I like being the one invited out as opposed to “calling if I wanna hang out”.

I don’t know. Am I just mental? Am asking too much in this modern world? Am I just really chicken-shit when the ball is in my court?

I think the answer to that is yes.

Maybe next time someone I couldmaybekindof be interested in tries to give me his number, I should just say, “Actually, lemme give you my number.”

Problem solved.

GENIUS.

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Negus, please.

Tosh.0  
Is it Racist? – National Spelling Bee
www.comedycentral.com
 
Web Redemption 2 Girls, 1 Cup Reaction Demi Moore Picture

There’s a video, not sure how to embed it. If ya can’t get to it, then negus, please.

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