Haven't Heard from Janice for Awhile

I almost puked when I opened her MySpace bulletin:

please come take care of me...

I'm on crutches and have a giant ugly knee brace around my leg :(


ps. if anyone wanted to bring me anything...I'm madly in love with Ben and Jerry's icecream :)

<3 <3

Give me a break.

Taken from the Archives Pt. 2

I woke up Sunday morning. I'm in my favorite Polar Bear boxers, my watch on, shoes on, t-shirt (basically what I wore the night before sans jeans... that's just bizarre). My entire body bruised, I feel like I got hit by a train. Cuts in the most random places.

"What happened last nig... Uh oh," I'm panicking. "Better check the cellphone."

Whew, no Lynn calls or texts. A couple of random drunk dials, but nothing too out of the ordinary. How did I get back last night? Looks like my last call was 45 mins... I must have taken quite the journey.

Like some kind of zombie, I walk/stumble into Leo's room to check my gmail.

Hmmm... looks like I was on the computer last night since, it's still turned on. I find 4 different Google windows open. All of pictures of Emma Bunton (for those who are not familiar with this name, this is the blond Spice Girl... Baby Spice).

Why did I look up Emma Bunton pictures? In 4 different windows? I guess some mysteries weren't meant to be solved.

Miss MAXIM Thailand 2007

" Thai sexy Girls " today offer you with

Picture from Miss MAXIM Thailand 2007 final contest. select from the best sexiest 20 women from 100 women over Thailand. I love number 15 more than the winner because I think her very sexy I like women white skin not dark skin. and you?

Bebe from EXray Magazine

Beauty Gallery picture fashion from

BEBE' Thanchanok Ritthinaka

Bebe' is Thai teen singer. I like your song so much.You are so cute You have your unique style I love that.I hope you will have so many fanclub one of them is me. thank picture from sanook and EXray Magazine

Hey, Look What I Won

woo woo!

Perils of Love

I totally forgot about this gem. It's such a perfect illustration of my old relationship.

Er... except for the ending, of course.

My Brush with a "Famous" Girl

I don't have basic cable in LA. I'm too cheap and lazy to purchase bunny ears, so our house has never had it. Whenever I make a trip home, I soak in as much cable tv as I can stand (when I'm not out with friends). Lounging in my couch waiting for my cell to ring, I was channel surfing and my jaw suddenly dropped.

It was the end of the episode of VH1's Charm School and there was a dramatic scene with a very familiar face. The girl, Leleine (she might have had a nick name on the show, I think she was "Smiley" on Flava of Love) used to be a friend of mine during my first year in Los Angeles. She dated the manager at my restaurant and at the end of the evening when I'd count my tips, she'd sit and chat me up. A friendship blossomed.

I guess she liked me enough, because she would call me at random, random hours of the night. To ask me for advice about her life situation. She has 3 children (who I was introduced to, btw. sweet kids.) and would constantly seek my views on her loser boyfriend and all the drama that entailed. And that's the extent of our friendship. I'd get a phone call at 2 in the morning and I'd talk with her for the next hour or so, half asleep/half awake. I never knew what kind of advice to give her! Shit, I was only 22! What the fuck do I know about "life"?? But I felt bad for her and I did the best I could. She would spill her guts and I'd listen.

Everyone was convinced that she had something for me and still to this day I get, "Dude! Why didn't you hit that when you had a chance!?" Did I have a chance? Like I said, it was a really, really bizarre friendship, but I doubt I could have gotten anything out of it. Physically anyway. But damn, that would have been sweet. Besides, did I really have it in me to manipulate a trust like that? I would like to think otherwise.

Except for that one time when she brought me back a giant stuffed Pooh Bear from Disney Land because it reminded her of me. Why exactly? I'm not sure. I never even discussed Winnie or his adventures with her.

I haven't heard from good ol' Leilene for quite some time now. But apparently things are going well for her, as she is now an even bigger reality tv star. -shrug- Who knew?

Leilene, if you ever find this blog, holla at cho boy.

The Mission Statement

Leslie: hahahaha saturday night
you are going to get laid
it's my only goal in life
So@24: Hahahaha, right
Leslie: seriously.
i'm going to do it.
So@24: How?
Leslie: when i'm drunk, i'm a genius. i'll figure something out.

It's Going to Be One of Those, Huh?

2:48 am My cell phone vibrates on my footlocker.

"What the fuck?"

It's from a number I don't recognize and I answer it (with my best zombie impression).

Hol. Lee. Shit. It's Lynn. She wants to see how I'm doing and what I've been up to. I sit straight up and no amount of coffee could wake me up as much as I am now. My stomach is doing a million somersaults.

"Wow, why are you calling so late?"
"I dunno... I can't sleep I guess."

7:30 am Our conversation is cut short suddenly by a shitty midi of Weezer's Say It Ain't So. What the fuck?

It's my cell phone's alarm clock and it's time for me to throw on some wrinkled jeans and head to work. That entire sequence was a dream. Fucking dreams. I woke up swearing that was real. The problem is, you can't control them or what they are going to be about.

Talk about the shittiest way to start out a Monday. With a mouth full of toothpaste foam, I'm just laughing at my reflection in disbelief.

8:20 am I'm back in my driveway. I had to turn around and get my CD face.

8:22 am For some reason (probably when I was drunk), I took my house key off it's ring and left it inside. I'm locked out.

8:26 am I jimmy open our window and crawl in (hopefully no potential burglars saw my "secret entrance"). I find my CD face under a pile of clothes.

12:30 pm It's my job to pick up the company lunch order for the weekly Monday meeting. That's always sweet. I get all the way to Subway and I forget the company card. Still rattled by my dream this morning.

12:53 pm Back at Subway. Carrying 2 bags full of Subway. Waiting for the order, Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars comes over the outdoor mall's loudspeakers. You have got to be fucking kidding me. I have to walk across the entire mall with that song surrounding me.

1:10 pm I drop one of the bags accidentally. Sonofabitch. As I'm on all fours, scrambling to shove all the sandwiches back into the bags, I take a moment to look up at the sky and curse the Heavens.

6:06 pm I still have that depressing song stuck in my head.


It's going to be one of those.

Where The Chicks At, Bro?

In one sentence, I became that guy*. A brief second. The words came out of my mouth and I wanted more than anything to whip out some kind of sentence-lasso and haul them back in, but alas it was too late.

I've always despised those guys (yes, some of them I'll admit are my friends). Those guys that can't hang out at any function without a plethora of available, attractive girls present. Even when it's only your guy friends sitting around and having a good time with good conversation... there's that one guy that has to say, "This is such a cockfest/sausage party/wiener roast. Where the chicks at?" And of course, to prove to your male comrades that "yes, girls in fact DO make things more interesting" regardless of how much fun we're already having, everyone has to mutter something along the lines of, "yeah... seriously dude". It's a guy code or something.

Leo came back from his vacation and wanted to head out to Malibu to hang out with some guy at his beach side apartment. I just spent my entire morning and afternoon obtaining my new car (remember the old one was demolished in the accident), got speakers installed and had literally walked through the door when this spontaneous trip out to Malibu was put on the table.

-sigh- "Who's going?"
"Me, you and Chad so far."
"Me, you and Chad? That's it?"
"So far."
"Are there going to be any girls?"

I immediately hung my head in shame. What the fuck have I become? Really? I don't think I've ever uttered that sentence before.

Maybe now I unconsciously think that. I wonder if the longer you're single, the more that mantra becomes part of your own.

-shudder-

I hope that's not the case. I became that guy yesterday. I didn't mean to and I'm sorry.




Post Script: And for the record, the night did in fact, suck.


* taken from KissAtlanta.com

Emotions of Cheer

Exray this a copy have Cheer-Tikumporn Rittapinun come on a cover. She change from a little gilrs baby face come to little girl sweet face and sexy . Cheer have a many worked in 7 Channel. Enjoy with some picture of Cheer from Exray magazine latest a copy.

Clothes Make the Man (Or so I hear)

When my ex co-worker invited me out for his birthday celebration at The Edison, I was a little hesitant. Not that I wasn't stoked to throw back a few with my old co-workers, but in the bulk email he sent out... in bold letters it read "There is a DRESS CODE"

Shit.

Dress code? I have absolutely no fashion sense whatsoever. I never even started caring about what I wore out until after my break up. I would usually come out in some outfit that Lynn would deem ridiculous and she'd sigh in disbelief, grab my shoulders, spin me on my heels, march me back into the room and pick out something that wouldn't completely embarrass her (or myself). Pathetic? Probably. But when you don't care, what does it matter?

Thank God for my cousin Mimi. She has a great fashion sense (so I'm told) and she loves to shop. So when my fashion consultant and I parted ways, I came up with a brilliant plan. Probably the only smart thing that's ever crossed my mind. I loathe shopping for clothes, so whenever I need clothes and I have extra dough, I fork it over to Mimi. Usually around $200 or so. And when she's shopping for herself, she'll search through the men's section at Nordstrom Rack or something. She never shows them to me or asks for my approval, because I always know that she's more knowledgeable than I am in that department. It'd be like asking some tongueless being to taste your pasta sauce. I have no fucking clue.

Rooting through my closet, I found a recent shipment from da cuz. A striped, long sleeved Ben Sherman shirt. Looks good to me, thanks Mimi! I never, ever wear long sleeved button ups. I never know if you're supposed to roll the sleeves or if you do, how MUCH do you roll them up. Or do I leave the top 3 buttons unbuttoned (or is it 2)? Do I wear a shirt underneath? Too many rules.

I must have looked alright, because I got into The Edison wearing that shirt, some jeans and my loyal pair of Chucks. The Edison is definitely my top 3 bars I've been to in LA. I don't think I've seen more "beautiful" people congregated in one area... all dressed to the nines. Drinks were extremely expensive and my bar tab made me go soprano for about .3 seconds. But it was the perfect balance of not being shoulder to shoulder with everyone, but also not having it be awkwardly empty. It really captures the whole flapper, 1940s era theme.

No word yet from my mystery, Facebook comrade... but I offered to be an escort to this Playboy event this weekend. That's how selfless a guy I am.

-crosses fingers-

Facebook Buddies

There are two websites that can wet the palate of any internet stalker: MySpace and Facebook. I can't tell you how many precious hours I have burned by clicking on profiles that lead me down the path of my friend's friend's coworker's sister's friend's ex-boyfriend's girlfriend's friend. These websites have turned ambitious, hardworking people into profile-craving zombies (me being one of them). But damn, it's fun.

Although I'm not guilty of doing this, I know for a fact that some guys will go through these searches and try to "poke" or add girls who are complete strangers as their friends just because they are hot. What the fuck is poking anyway? Facebook's way of saying "I think you're totally fuckable?" I doubt the guy to girl ratio on this is anywhere close to being equal.

So I was surprised this morning when I got a friend request from a totally random girl. I immediately thought, "Oh shit... did I meet this girl at a party when I was blacked out? Oh God. What did I say? Her and I don't have any friends in common, yet we both live in LA. Why the hell would she add me? I swear I'm usually good at remembering names..."

I write her a message, I can't let this go. I need to find out.

Hey,

At the risk of sounding like a complete moron, how do we know each other??

She responds minutes later:

Hi there,
lol, sorry no we havent met, but I saw your page so I thought I'd add you, hope you don't mind :-)
How are you?
<3

That's pretty random. Don't see that very often. But her "status" says that she is going to the Playboy Mansion for some kind of party this weekend. I better make friends fast! She must be well connected!

God I hate this town.

Giving Your Number Takes "Cajones"??

Veronica shared with me an interesting experience she had over the weekend. She's an event coordinator and during a large event on Sunday, she got asked for her number... not once, not twice, but THRICE.

Now when I saw her, she wasn't wearing your typical, sexy get-up you tend to see on a night out. Stilettos were no where in sight and her two-prong was left unused. Her uniform to this event was a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and she was covered in sweat from the California sun.

We were both shocked at her obtaining three suitors in a single afternoon. What gave the first two guys the balls to do so? My theory was that they knew she was working (the uniform probably tipped them off) so that it's harder to turn down a guy when they are technically your customer. I predict a lot of waitresses get asked for their numbers.

The third guy (and the one she is most interested in), however, didn't ask for her number. He did another strategy, which I love and might mirror in the future. He had worked side by side with her all day and before leaving:

He gave his card to a friend of Veronica's and scribbled "call me".

The shocking part is, Veronica thought it was the BETTER than asking a girl for her number. I believe her actual adjective to describe it was "cute".

I like it, in that it puts the ball in the girl's court and gives her time to think about it, rather than putting her on the spot. It gives her the opportunity to reject you (by simply not calling) rather than blatantly to your face or lying about being engaged or whatever clever lines they come up with.

However, I would guess that most girls will say something along the lines of, "Oh, he had to give his card to a friend to give to me? He couldn't just come up and ask me for my number? What a pussy."

He got off pretty damn easy... he not only didn't ask her for HER number, but left his... and didn't even give his card to her directly, but through a mutual FRIEND. My guess is that girls want a guy to have the balls to put his nuts on the train rail.

But I've been known to be wrong from time to time.

Mt. Dew & Blink 182

It's weird what curve balls can be thrown at you at the most random moments. There are certain senses that can trigger your brain to pull up a library of very specific memories. Music and smell, especially. But rarely taste.

Battling Los Angeles traffic, I was suddenly struck with this intense thirst and only one drink would satisfy. Mountain Dew: Code Red. I have absolutely no idea where it came from. I haven't touched a Mountain Dew: Code Red since it's debut during my freshman year of college... and I used to guzzle it like it was going out of style.

Hitting the road with my 32 oz tucked between my legs, the radio played another song that brought on a wave of nostalgia to that very specific time. Blink 182's "The Rock Show". I almost dropped my red, bubbly beverage in complete shock. I wandered into some kind of time warp.

I was bitchslapped out of nowhere with this image: cruising through Vancouver in my black '97 Nissan pick up, windows rolled down because it was summer and the old Honey Wagon didn't have AC, taking sips and passing back & forth a bottle of Mt. Dew: Code Red, holding hands and singing along to "The Rock Show" with her.

It's weird what kind of curve balls get thrown at you.

VJ Vunsen Crush on Her

Vunsen - Viritapa Pakdeeprasong

is beauty women a lot of ability. her has job as VJ from Channel [V] Thailand at UBC and many Thai lakron TV includ MV , Model . from her beauty Picture from Women Plus magazine cover make we know her beautyful never change.

TrUe Girls Want My Nuts

Have you actually seen these ads? Anyone that has a MySpace HAS to have seen these... however, I believe that they are different if you are listed as a male or female.

These ads are constantly playing on my MySpace homepage. These girls (who aren't even that attractive) seem to be flirting. With me! They have eyes for only me and I think they are trying to seduce me. I've seen a couple of them with their personal webcams and I'm onto their tricks: slowly slurping down a lollypop, taking off a jacket to expose an oh-so-revealing top.

And they are giggling at EVERYthing I'm NOT typing to them! What are they laughing at? I'm so damn witty when I'm not saying a word. This whole time, I had no idea how much charm I had over women.

But if I don't "chat" with them immediately, they start to get impatient. And then they start in with the "where are yous" and the "hellos??" Just calm down ladies, I'll get back to "chatting" with you in a second as soon as I accept my new comments and friend requests.

Whoa. Sxybabylolsunshine85 wants me to ask her anything! Did you hear that? I can ask her ANYTHING! Be still my heart.

Apparently I need to meet some of these trUe girls, because they obviously want to meet me.

I Love My Friends Pt. 3

"Apparently your maturation process in regards to engaging women romantically stopped 6 years ago."
- Leo

I Love My Friends Pt. 2

You'll probably hear a lot from my friend Leslie. She's fucking hysterical. This is her insight from the previous night:

Leslie: man i can't believe you didn't bag her.
i shacked it up all weekend. it was AMAZING.
So@24: Dude! It's not as easy as people think!
Leslie: yes.
it.
is.
Leslie: i do it every weekend. i shacked it up all weekend. it was AMAZING.
So@24: HOW!? HOW DO YOU DO IT!?
Leslie: i talk to them. and ask if they want to continue to hang out.
Leslie: "do you want to come over for a drink?" it's a question. done and done.
So@24: So you go back. You have a drink. Then what?
Leslie: have you ever initiated a kiss?
you initiate the first kiss
you hold a hand first.
brush up against the leg or arm
go in for a kiss
done and done.
So@24: Yeah... I initiated a kiss once if you remember. I pulled on the loops of her jeans.*
Leslie: NO. NO. NO. you're not in high school anymore. in big people world, you need to be more cool.
So@24: I MISSED OUT IN COLLEGE!
Leslie: well dude you're 24...learn!
i like the thigh touch
a little brush up on the thigh
that sounds awkward, but it works
and it's all about the eye fucking
you MUST eye fuck.
So@24: I think Im too shy to eye fuck
Leslie: don't! eye fucking is fun
So@24: I'd get embarrassed!
Leslie: man. there's a lot you need to learn
Leslie: i sent you a song. listen carefullyespecially to the chorus.


enjoy. this song should be playing in your head when you're out. it will help :)

So@24: This is hilarious! HAHAHA!
Leslie: this is THE song that goes through my head when i'm out
So@24: Are you serious, Leslie!? I would feel like such a cheese dick!
Leslie: for some reason, when this song is in my head, it gives me confidence. it's gross

* my first kiss with Lynn is actually a really funny story, perhaps I'll post that at some point

An Evening with Janice

I met Janice at a bar in Hollywood. We hugged and sat down and immediately ordered drinks. Janice ordered a Raspberry Stolli with soda. She actually squealed with excitement when she noticed 3 raspberries were floating in her drink.

"EEEEEEE! Aren't these cutey??"

Oh God. My response to her question was three large gulps of my vodka Redbull.

Surprisingly enough, our conversation didn't really drag. I can admit I'm pretty good at feigning interest in what she has to say. She voiced to me that she didn't have work the next day and she wanted to get drunk. Fine by me, so do I!

2 Blue Moons, a pitcher of PBR, and 3 Touchdowns later, we find ourselves in a deep discussion once again about dating and the opposite sex.

I take a wild guess and say that her guy friends always try for something more with her. Here's the interesting part... she says that the problem is, is that they always try to DATE her. She makes some claim that she gives off this "girl next door", "bring home to mom" impression and instead of getting hit on all the time; guys try to enter a relationship. She was COMPLAINING that no guys just want her PHYSICALLY!

This absolutely blew my mind. I tried my best to not burst into laugher at the irony of the situation. There is no way in Hell, I'd ever date her. And I'm really only interested in her, well, physically. I guess this was my moment to kind of say something really smooth and would ultimately lead to us ripping off each other's clothes behind the bar dumpsters.

But what could I say really? "Hey! That could be me!" Maybe if I was at my home turf or even anywhere else but this dive bar, I could have done something. I need to find my balls at some point, I suppose.

However, the wheels are in motion now. She wants to hang out again this weekend. At least I know now that this girl isn't as prudish as originally thought. I leave you with some hilarious thoughts of wisdom from my friends:

Paxton: But the more you hang out and nothing happens, the more you're just the guy she 's going to bitch to about everything. So@24: Dammit! The Friendzone!
Paxton: yeah, that's the risk. you don't want to be this girl's friend.
Paxton: in fact, fuck that, very few guys want to be any girl's friend
So@24: HAHAHAA! Wow, Paxton. I don't know if I see eye to eye with you on that one.

Leslie: so did anything happen between you two?
So@24: No! I couldn't bring myself to do it!
Leslie: You are a PUSSY! I can't believe you didn't jump on that! AND you had an empty house! I'm so disappointed in you.
So@24: Whoa whoa whoa! First off, we weren't at my place! We were at a bar!
Leslie: You should have invited her over afterwards! That's what you do! You hang out at a bar and then invite her back to your house!
Leslie: PWNED!

The Return

Janice is back. She went home for a couple of weeks before she quit her job (don't worry, she called me immediately afterward and I had to awkwardly console her. Isn't this a boyfriend job!?).

I had completely forgotten about her. Until I got a text this afternoon:

"Hey I'm baaaaaaack! drinks tonight??"

Fuck. Fuck! She sent me an email with new pictures from her vacation. I have to admit... she's looking good. My brain and my penis are in a battle of epic proportions.

I'm meeting her for drinks.

Damn you. You always win.

My First Gay Bar Adventure

First off. For the record, I'm not gay. But I'm not a homophob either. So when my friend Michael begged us to go to The Abbey for his 25th birthday, who was I to object? Los Angeles Magazine refers to it as "the best gay bar to bring a straight friend to."

We all file out of the cab and head past the gate at the front of the bar. It's actually a really cool bar: outdoor heat lamps, plenty of outdoor booths and tables, there are a lot of mini-bars scattered throughout the complex, a dance floor, etc. The Abbey was absolutely packed and although I don't think I've ever experienced an "eye fuck" before... I'm pretty sure I'm a veteran now.

My friend Veronica was with us that evening and I said I would get the first round of drinks. Not thirty seconds from when I saddled up to the bar, did a mustached man wearing an almost-transparent black top strike up a conversation with me over the roar of La Bouche's "Be My Lover".

Mustache: It's pretty happenin' tonight!
So@24: Yeah, I've never been here before. Is it normally this crowded?
Mustache: You've never been here before? Really??
So@24: Nope.
Mustache: Well, let me be the first to welcome you to the Abbey, cutey.
So@24: -nervous chuckle- Thank you. I'm sure I'll see you around.

I grab our drinks and head back to find Veronica and the rest. Our crew has somehow managed to commandeer a table outside. I tell everyone about my admirer and it gets a chuckle as we throw back our Redbull vodkas. Looking around, I'm definitely aware that I'm getting a lot of looks. Stares. A unique experience. This is what it must be like for girls at straight bars, I'm assuming.

Funny thing about alcohol; it makes you have to pee eventually. I make my way to the room in the back and this is the first time I've ever seen an enormous line for the men's room and absolutely nothing for the women's. A urinal opens up and as I go about my business, my eyes are directed to a little television screen above. It looks like a spring break video, but instead of busty, bikini-clad women... it's shirtless dudes in jean shorts. Weird. My own personal beach party is broken up when I hear behind me, "You have a pretty big dick for an Asian."

Did I just hear someone say, "[my] dick is pretty big for an Asian"? I look over my shoulder and the guy who just made the comment is exiting the room and winks at me. I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or be offended. I guess I could appreciate his directness.

Weaving through the crowd to get back to our table, my shoulder is tapped and it's a circle of guys.

So@24: Oh hey. What's going on?
Random Guy 1: We've just been watching you talk to your friends all night and wondering when you were going to come over and introduce yourself to us.
- the circle laughs -
So@24: Ahhh. Well, yeah it's my friends birthday.
Random Guy 2: It's our friends birthday too! Don't you think you should give him a birthday kiss?
- the circle laughs -
So@24: That'd be alright, if I was gay!
- the circle, in unison, gives a disappointed "Awwwwwwwwww!"
Random Guy 1: You're not gay??
So@24: 'Fraid not.
Random Guy 2: That's too bad.
So@24: Thanks. Well, I'll see you guys later.

How easy would it be to be a gay guy? Seriously?!

Some Alone Time and POOL HUNNIES!

Despite my spoiled evening with the geriatrics, I still had consumed enough alcohol to kill a small army. I woke up Sunday morning bug-eyed and dehydrated... the wave of Los Angeles heat pouring through my window didn't help my pathetic situation. After chugging an entire Britta filter full of water in my polar bear boxers, I thought about what my Sunday would consist of.

Leo is over seas. My other roommate Kevin was with his girlfriend. Going back to sleep was out of the question. Anyone who's anyone knows that the best cure for a hangover is a large bowl of pho. I don't normally enjoy eating alone, but I'll do it under desperate circumstances.

After slurping down a steaming bowl, I had to think of something else to do to pass the time. Distraction is absolutely key in my current situation. Otherwise your mind wanders and you start reflecting on the past and pretty soon you find yourself wearing skinny black jeans, sporting hot pink accessories, and crooning along to Avril Lavigne's "My Happy Ending". Heading home, I remember that I've driven past a forgotten family arcade center down this particular street. I haven't been to one since my Wonderland Nickel Arcade days, so I make the executive decision of "what the fuck" and pull a U-turn.

Entering the Family Arcade was like taking a step back in time. Flashing lights. Annoying midis blaring from each machine. A disgruntled employee is really pissed that I am asking for a 10, a 5, and 5 ones. I shaved off a couple hours more from my afternoon plugging quarters into Metal Slug and various pinball machines. But a call from my friend Veronica reminds me that maybe I should be spending the afternoon with other human beings. She's soaking up rays by the pool at her apartment and asks me to join her and some of our other friends.

Because the pool is at an apartment, it's your typical family scene. Restless kids doing cannonballs inches away from your peaceful wade. A couple of fat guys, wearing matching farmer's tans are flipping burgers and dogs. A group of friends across from our group of friends are lathering up. And one of the girls is pretty damn cute. Pulling my shades up, I scan the pool area and there is no obvious sign of a boyfriend.

And I think to myself... what could I possibly do in this situation? What is the next logical step to show this girl I have any interest? I turn to Veronica and share my interest in the petite asian in the white sun dress.

"Go talk to her."
"Like what? What should I say? Tell me some words in the English language that I could string together and not sound like a complete moron? What if a random guy came up to you right this minute and was interested in getting to know you more? What could he say to you right now that would be acceptable?"
"... damn. Good point."

So, like any other normal guy, I just admired from a far. But I think I bring up a good question, what is the next move? We're not at a bar, so I can't even order a couple shots to inject myself with some confidence? Do people ask for numbers anymore? Even if I did "get her number", I wouldn't even know what to say when I finally got the balls to call. It's in the middle of afternoon and she's out with her friends. Most girls, I'm assuming, wouldn't even want to be bothered by some creepy poolside dude.

Something to think about, I suppose.

Fake Personalities, Fake Lips, Fake Boobs

I'll be the first to admit when a night has a strong possibility of be a coin toss. In the style of Dickens, it could either be the best of nights or the worst of nights. If the title of this entry didn't tip you off immediately, I'll tell my story and let you be the judge:

Wiping off the condensation off my mirror post shower, I looked at my reflection and knew I couldn't do a night like this on my own. At least I wasn't completely prepared to go into battle solo. In a last ditch effort, I call my friend Dave and ask him to join me. Knowing that he is very outgoing and can always make an adventure out of any situation, he is my best bet for survival. He agrees to join me and we take off to the west side.

The girl's birthday (Catrina) starts off with in her apartment before heading out to The W. Getting our ducks in a row, Dave and I pass a half G of Trader Joe's Vodka of the Gods back and forth before shaking off our nerves and stepping into the party.

I've always said that you can predict how fun the night will be based on the first 30 seconds you step into the scene. Immediately my eyes are drawn to 4 to 5 older women. Much older. Like say... 39 - 43? And I've seen more conservative attire on the El Centro prostitutes. And they all had fake, fake breasts falling out of their paper mache' tops. I give Dave a weak smile and pour him a shot.

Catrina gives me a quick hug and helps Dave and I transition into meeting her friends (remember, we know absolutely no one here), but most people aren't in the mood for chit chat. People are here to drink. Dave and I take our places against a wall and observe.

"I have never met a weirder crowd than this," says Dave.
"I know, I know. But we haven't give it a chance yet. Give it another 20 and we'll see."

More people pour into the party. A few more urban cougs stroll in and squeal with delight when they see their other friends. Imagine very stereotypical teenage girls from the Valley... but moms. With fake breasts. And collagen pumped into their lips. Another trendy couple shows up and they paw each other affectionately the entire time. Although our age, the girl's breasts are not real.

With the Vodka of the Gods coursing through my veins, I want to find out how some of these woman are friends with Catrina (who has just turned 24). I saddle up right next to two woman in deep discussion. They turn to me and flash me their best pearly smiles.

"So how do you know Catrina?"
"Oh. Catrina used to babysit my son."
"Uh huh... and you?"
The platinum blond pulls out a stick of gum from her Louis Vuitton purse, pops it into her mouth with a flick of her wrist and begins to smack loudly. She looks up with a look of confusion. As if I have thrown her completely off guard.
"Oh me?! I just know Catrina through my friend here. Hey what time is it? Aren't the clubs going to close pretty soon? I need to dance tonight."

I've hit a brick wall. I look to Dave for support but he returns my glance with raised eyebrows. In other words, "Let's get the fuck out of here and salvage the rest of our night."

I make up some excuse on why we have to leave before joining them at The W and Dave and I are out the door.

Perhaps next time.

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Ploy Chidjun Rujipan

She is a newest Actress from 3 chanel. only 18 year old with lovely and pretty as your age will help her became top actress in short time. I think her smile can change the worlds it make people to be around her have happinest

A Post Before Tonight

It is only a few hours before I go through the normal male ritual of "getting ready" for a night of bar hopping. I haven't had to prep myself for something like this in... well, never. Shower and shaving is pretty obvious. I guess I could dig out the cologne I used to wear back in high school; I'm pretty sure I have a bottle of Claiborne Curve laying around here somewhere.

And what do I wear to something like this? Fuck. It's been forever since I've had to consciously think about something to wear. I usually just throw on a pair of jeans, a wrinkled t-shirt and some Chuck Taylors. But I think I think the bar that we're going to is kind of trendy. I might need to call and see what their dress code is like.

Doesn't help that none of my friends are going to be there and my only connection is a girl I barely know off of Facebook. Maybe I need to stop being such a baby and be optimistic for once.

This is so weird. Wish me luck.

Meat Market

Some big events are already in the works for this weekend. A birthday party tonight at Malo and then another party on Saturday.

I don't even really know the girl whose day of birth I am celebrating. She happened to be a friend of a friend of Janice's. I met her once very briefly (literally, a conversation that lasted 5 mins total), so I was shocked to see a personal message from her on my Facebook.

I've never been out to the OC and in my previous life I would be too lazy, too unmotivated, and too apprehensive about bar hopping with a bunch of people I have never met before. But from the looks of it, this could be potential to meet a new crowd. Who knows, right?

Janice might make an appearance, but I don't think that she is friends with the host of the party. But I'm not taking any chances. You can bet your bottom dollar I'll be completely hammered if she does show up.

Time to get drunk and make some friends.