The most awesome thing just happened. I was driving my car beside the bookstore and I passed this cute guy walking on the sidewalk. Noticed him, moved on with my life. Then as I was walking into said store, I looked to my left and saw him standing beside his car, looking at me. I saw that he was holding something, looked down, looked back up at him and paused. It was a handmade sign that read “FREE HUGS.” I threw my arms open like a crazy person and got one.
It was exactly what I needed from a random stranger to counter the effects of the guy who recently stalked and harassed me and wanted to hurt me.
My faith in humanity has been restored.
Thank you, Universe.
I love how these photos randomly ended up side by side. When I took that photo, I was not making my Gandhi face.
Um, you know I bought these within 30 seconds of knowing they existed, right? This is out of control. Hello mai naim is Sayum and I haz a holic and I am sumbody.
Well… I was about to bid you all adieu with this thing. And then my hosting company charged for another six months of hosting. You’re stuck with me!
Fifteen pounds lighter, and it’s only been a month (maybe a little more?). The pants I bought that were too tight before I started going to the gym are now a bit saggy, and my ass feels so muscular I can’t help but rub it all day - which only compounds my signature awkward mystique. I’m not sure anyone but me can see the results with their eyes, though they clearly see that I have a sore ass.
I’m not giving it the most astringent effort, so my results surprise me a little. My goal is eventually to fit back into my “hot” pants purchased in late 2006 when I was 25ish pounds lighter than I currently am. My hag forced me to buy them from the Guess! store for the high, high price of $85 because she said they looked so… “hot.” Also so that, for the rest of my life, she can make fun of me for spending $85 on a pair of jeans. I will wear them until every last thread is rotten. I know, the gayer among you are scoffing, “only $85?! what kind of cheap white trash faggot are you?!” I am the kind who couldn’t shop in the Guess! store until 2006. I think I only wore them a handful of times, so they have miles and miles to go. Until then, they’re mothsmeat, so I need to hurry.
I’m going to post some measurements here mostly because I’m too lazy to start some kind of workout diary when all of 5 of you read this anyway. Apparently, according to the Greeks, who were quite familiar with the hotness, these are my ideal measurements, slightly rounded (they are bold, my current measurements are in italics):
chest: 48.75, 48
hip: 41, 43
bicep: 17.5, 14.25
forearm: 14, 12
thigh: 26, 25.5
calf: 16, 17.5
neck: 18, 18
Keep in mind that there is a muscle-versus-fat level involved in these measurements, or more specifically, their ideal guy is muscular at these measurements and I am really not at mine. Except my calves, they are meaty. Either way, I feel a little more optimistic after having taken these and compared. Maybe I don’t have such a long way to go.
Lame - me sitting here on a Saturday night making a blog post after having just gotten back from the bookstore. Destitution, party of 1? I usually go there to drink a latte and read the latest Buffy comic. On Saturday nights. Yeah. I did pick up an actual book this time, and buy “pick up” I mean “buy”; most of the time I just browse because I’ve been collecting a stack of books to read which is approaching about two feet in height, many of which I get from paperbackswap. I’ve started both of these in recent months and still can’t manage to pick them back up again, despite how good the former is. Reading makes me pass out cold… I’m told this means I need reading glasses. What do I know?
There’s this guy at the gym who is a 5′7″ clone of Chris Evans, only muscular and possibly hotter. He chews gum all the time and I saw him changing into a skin tight baseball uniform, after which he got into his Audi A8, which reeks of homo, and drove away. I got the impression that he was a complete douchebag, but after I saw him reading this, I felt justified. He did turn the jacuzzi on for me, though.
I’m trying to like it. Really, I am. Clearly it needs work, like the reparation of the lines across the orange fish’s head. After it heals (month-ish) I’ll try to find someone who can at least touch it up and make it look respectable. I’m not sure what, if anything, can be done with that obscene shading. I’ve seen tattoos done in prison with homemade guns that looked better. It’s just bizarre to me how the black fish went so right and everything else went so wrong. Here’s a better photo of it taken outside with my camera. And I guess it looks kind of neat from this angle. Slash sarcasm. Also, plz do not make fun of my weird legs, kthx.
Macy Gray has absolutely no idea what’s going on here. If you know how to make the laughing stop, do tell.
Also, I have no idea what’s going on. Celebs getting political is nothing new, but I’ve kind of had enough, especially after these videos. The first one was cheesy, though effective. I don’t know if this is the second or the fifteenth, but these things are produced by the guy who is responsible for this monstrosity. Kind of sucks all the magic out of it, don’t you think?
I went to my first hockey game Thursday night. Surprisingly, enjoyment was had, but as usual most of the fun happened during the journey. I met three other people at Mockingbird Station where we would ride the DART train downtown, and then take the TRE train a few blocks to American Airlines Center. The fun came after the game when we got on the wrong TRE train and didn’t know until it was too late. And then some chick told us that it was the last train of the night and we would be stranded in South Irving.
Miraculously, there was one train left going back to Dallas and we were able to get on it. After it started moving, four women came down from the upper level, all decked out in Obama shirts and buttons and signs. They’d come from some last minute rally in Fort Worth and missed their stop. I let them know in a roundabout way that evangelizing was not necessary.
One of them was your out-of-the-box crazy token old lady from the wrong side of town with a lawyer on her side and a penchant for telling her life story. I resisted until the blood vessels in my face could no longer expand, and then I died laughing. My friend Jay and I were staring at eachother mentally betting on which one of us would do it first. I don’t know why my best friend C always attracts the crazies. Once we got onto the DART train, she managed to accidentally hook some scary construction worker with a gnarly face and an expression that could only be described as “you look like the girl whose head is in my refrigerator.”
But the game was fun. I had no idea that hockey was the gay game of choice. The last time I saw that many homos in one place, Cher was in town.
Friday night we went to the Matchbox 20/Alanis concert. I’m a huge Alanis fag, and I’m kind of okay with M20. Their music is rather ho-hum and normal, but what I’ve discovered is that in the studio, they’re more pop, and live they’re more rock (it was the second time I’ve seen them). Rob Thomas is also so dreamy (shut up). I want. Have pictures, will post.
Saturday was the North Texas Irish Festival. There was nothing there I haven’t seen before, but it’s always fun to spend all day looking at cute guys in skirts. Hillary Clinton was also in town at Fair Park where the Irish Festival was, and I was going to go hear her speak. But then I decided I didn’t care.
I’m tired. Later I will tell you the riveting story of how I got myself fired Friday. Or at least how I’m 90% sure I did, and how excited I am about it.
