Being Jun XI

Last week when I had my goatee, I used to look like someone who can kick your ass if you looked at me the wrong way. Or at least caused major damage to the establishment. I was treated sooooooooooooo well. Now that I've shaved it off, I just ended up looking like an ugly fat guy. Oh well.

Certain Point Of View

If you have a dirty mind like me, then everything DOES seem sex-related. But occasionally, there are things that would make everyone think about sex. There's this bidet commercial, for example, where a chick and a dude is really happy, almost orgasmic, the chick is in fact, while riding a wave of water. And if that wasn't enough, the chick is moaning the name of the product at the final seconds. And the name of the product? Loo Loo. And since I've witness the strength of the jet of water emitting from these bidets, I think no one would have any trouble guessing how a woman can be orgasmic while sitting on this. Then there's this other commercial, where a young couple is sitting on a bed, when the chick asks the dude if she can touch it. Ad the dude asks if she washed her hands, and she proceeds to use the product advertised, a waterless hand cleanser. Then she touches the guy's IT. His face. Talk about anticlimactic.

But the most suggestive one is when I saw this hot actress/model on a comedy variety show, appearing as a guest. And as part of the routine, she moves a small radish back and forth over her teeth, through her open mouth. Now what would YOU think if you see a hot chick wrapping her lips around a plump tubular thing with a round tip and moving it in and out of her mouth? Of course, there's no question about it.

Morality Tail

At this message board I hang out, there was this discussion about online flirting and cyber sex. I don't know if it's just me, but I don't really think that cybersex is cheating. I mean, when you bring it down to its essence, it's basically fiction that features two characters based on the participants of the chat. I mean, no matter how good of a writer you are, there's no way you can totally represent yourself online. So what ends up is a character. Let's look at this another way. If cybersex is cheating, then so is going to a romantic movie and fantasizing that one of the character is you. And anyways, without an active fantasy life, your sex life will be dead-stangnant. There will be no progress, no natural evolution, and you would be doing the same things over and over again. So having a good fantasy now and then is essential to a healthy relationship.

And it's not like anything that goes online will become real life, unless both parties wanted it to. I mean, if someone starts stalking you after cybering online, starts hanging around you trying to get some in real life, then that person is a freakoid and you shouldn't be hanging around that person in any event, much less cybering. If both parties know that it's only fantasy unless both of you are free to persue something in real life, then it's really not cheating.

But then again, I can't really claim that I'm right, since I also think that sleeping with other people is not cheating when the significant other is informed beforehand. When it comes to sex, I'm completely amoral. I would think that a couple of my friends would agree to that as well.

Righting The Wrong, Blaming The Wicked

I'm sick and tired of watching all these ads about how smoking causes lost productivity in the workplace. Unless your job involves long-distance running of some sort, it's not the SMOKING that decreases efficiency in the office. It's the having to walk outside in all kinds of weather, even if you happen to work on the 75th floor, that causes the loss of productivity. I mean, if we can smoke at our desks without the need to spend 20 minutes walking outside for a smoke, there wouldn't be any lost productivity, would there?

So you know who's fault it really is? Everyone has a person like this at their work. It's that one person who moans and whines at the slightest inconvenience. You know, the kind of person who desperately needed a few dozen ass-kickings in school but never got any. The kind of person who's nasally whines causes stress ulcers and brain embolisms.

If you don't have that whiny person at your work, then YOU'RE him. Or her.

Being Jun X

Not dead yet. Damn.

Looking Out The 23rd Floor Window

When I die and if not mourned, have I really lived?

Elderly Delinquent

Normally, when a bunch of young punks walk past you, their hair all dyed in colors not found in nature, you get a little apprehensive. Here, you get apprehensive when a bunch of white-haired old men walks by. They're the ones that start drinking right after lunch, they're the ones that have nothing to lose, they're the ones who treat police officers as if they were a snot nosed grandkid. Which they might actually be. And since most of the patrolmen are first year rookies, the old men here have no fear of the police. They're louder than any police officer, and here, being louder in an argument means you are winning that argument. To top it all off, they usually hang out in gangs, loud and boisterous, cursing someone out if you happen to step on their shadow, or something.

Being ugly has it's advantages, after all. No one thinks I would be walking around with the face I have if I got enough cash to get it fixed, so I'm pretty much left alone by everyone. But still, I am very circumspect when dealing with these old punks. Aside from the pain issue, it's fucking embarassing if I tell people that I got rolled by a bunch of 80 year old men, you know. In one way it's sad that the elderly of the nation has nothing to do so they gotta turn to petty crimes for kicks. I feel sorry for them, and anger and the society which degrades these good people who once had potential to a bunch of vandals and gangbangers.

Doesn't stop me from crossing the street and going in the other way when a gang of old men comes my way, though.

Insecurities And Exchange Commission

Occasionally, when I talk to some people online, they express insecurites about their appearance. Often times, the word sagging comes up in relation to certain body parts, as well as fat, cellulite, flab, etc. The thing is though, that's usually what makes a woman SEXY, unless you're the Wicked Witch Of The West, or something. I mean, I find myself getting off to amateur porn than to glossy professional porn, where the women have more plastic and artificial parts in them than the International Space Station, and got more makeup on their face that a Kabuki actor. Porn is about fantasy, but I was never into unrealistic fantasies. I like fantasies that can happen. And unless I suddenly get struck by lightning, rearranging the components of my face and body to make me look similar to say, Josh Hartnett, and become an instant movie star, I will never get to fuck a Barbie doll looking chick. Not that I want to in the first place. I like my women, even in porn, to look like someone I would fuck. Not someone who I would put in a glass cage and admire, afraid of bursting a saline pouch.

So women, be proud of how you look like, be proud of every imperfection, since that's what turns men on. And if any dude who doesn't get turned on by that needs to grow up by about 15 years. After all, I wanted to fuck a Barbie doll when I was first watching porn way back in grade school, and those dumb fucks don't deserve such a hot and sexy woman like you. Real men likes REAL women, not fake ones in picture shows.

Being Jun IX

The fall weather hear makes the air smell like a wet vagina. That is all.

Bitches' Brew

The people here have the strangest drinks. If you go to the nearest convenience store and browse the refrigerator, they got like hundreds of different kinds of beverages. One I tried the other day was this weird thing made out of aloevera. It smelled like a lotion. I mean, it smells good when you think you're gonna put it on your face, but it's kinda repulsive when you're considering pouring it down your gullet. But still, since I BE MANLY!, I drank it down. And you know what, it doesn't taste half bad, if you get past the cosmetic smell. It's grape juice based, and the little bits of aloe floating around kinda has the texture of coconut jelly. And it's good for you; a healthy drink. And you know I would do almost anything if it was healthy.

It's really tasted good though, when I mixed a little vodka and 7-up in it. Chased down by a couple of cigarettes. Yum.

Giving Up

A few days ago, I did something I haven't done in over 10 years. I cried. And to make things even more pathetic, I cried in the shower. How pathetic is that? But I did come to a realization, so I guess that's something, at least. I concluded that I don't like what I've become. And even more than that, I'm going to die so I should be ready to die at all times. It might be next hour, tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, next 10 years, or whatever. But I'm going to die, sooner or later. And when I die, I don't wanna have any major regrets.

So fuck being unhappy. Fuck my quest for my ideal chick. Fuck it if I have to live the rest of my life alone. I've did it for the past five years, I can do it some more. It's not a big deal, you know. I'm gonna die tomorrow, after all. So I'm going back to the Jun I was before and gonna live without thinking about the future. I just don't care, and I don't wanna care. I'm gonna die tomorrow anyways. And this time around, I think it's easier. I'll just wait and see.

And to prove my new resolve, I'm shaving my goatee off. Fuck it if I don't have anything to distract away from my face. I don't care.

I'm leaving the sideburns alone, though. I still got a little pride left, after all, no matter how much it's been ripped apart and shredded.

This is Jun, signing off.

Shameless Rip-off

I heard this story on TV the other day, and I had to share it, since it made me laugh so hard. I came up with the moral.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I went on an out-of-town business trip with my co-worker, Bob, who also happens to be one of my best friends. We come back to the hotel room we were sharing, and since Bob is a big baseball fan and wanted to catch the end of the game on TV, I took a shower first. Bob went in for his shower a little bit after me, having watched the end of the game, and I was flipping through the channels when I hear this blood curdling scream from the bathroom, followed by a loud thump. Worried, I run to the bathroom door and pound on it, asking if he was alright. I hear groaning inside, Bob saying that he was alright, that I shouldn't come in. After asking repeatedly if he was ok, I come back to bed, still worried about Bob. 10 or 15 minutes later, Bob steps out of the bathroom, his face as white as a ghost and a cold sweat running down all over him. He falls face first into the bed, still groaning, not answering me when asked what had happened. After much goading, he told me, finally.

He grabbed the soap while taking a shower, and being these tiny hotel soaps, he dropped it. When he bent down to pick it up, the spigot, which was a thin-old fashioned copper fixture, had hit his ass, and went in a little. Hence the screaming. And of course, I laughed my ass off, when I heard that.

The moral of this story? Beware of strange spigots in strange bathrooms.

Being Jun VIII

I'm so ugly, oh so ugly, so ugly and surly and sad....

Joe Q. Instant

I've been drinking alot of instant coffee lately, since I'm moving around alot, and I can't carry a coffee maker with me. And anyways, a cup of brewed coffee at a coffee shop costs upwards of three bucks. And that's for eight ounces. What a fucking rip-off. And if you don't have any choice, instant coffee with some sugar and non-dairy creamer is not half bad. It's not good, but at least it's coffee. So when waiting for the water to boil, I tend to read labels on the bottles. And I've noticed that on coffee bottles, they always tell you to put in more coffee, while on non-dairy creamer bottles, they tell you to put double to triple the amount of creamer than coffee or sugar, in a bid to sell more of their products, apparently. But notice that on sugar, there's usally no such directions, because after all, they cornered the sugar market. I mean, a world without sugar is like sex without alcohol. It can be done, but it's just not right, you know?

Big Hair, Scary Face

I just watched Christina Aguilera's new video and can she look less like a emaciated crack whore loitering in a dark alley, or what? I mean, although whores DO turn me on, this IS a bit too much, you know. Oh well. At least she doesn't look like Dee Snider anymore.

Being Jun VII

I got pissed drunk last night again, but since I came back home early, aside from waking up from extreme thirst and headache at 5AM, I'm feeling remarkably chipper. And there was one good result from the hard drinking last night. I got medical confirmation that I BE MANLY!

More or less.

Unnewsworthy

Iraqi parliament unanimously voted to oppose the weapons inspection. However, they had also voted unanimously to delgate the final decision to Saddam Hussein

Is this really news? I would like to make a few observations based on this little tidbit. You can make up your own jokes if you like.

1. Politicians are the same everywhere. They have instinctive abilities to cover their asses. And this is probably the finest hour in history of covering your ass.

2. I wonder how the parliamentary elections are like. Are they single candidates on the ballots? Or is the campaign pledge something like: "I will fight for your right to blindly support Saddam Hussein", or "I will bring back to my constituents TWO piles of rubble instead of just one."

3. What's the use of an Iraqi parliament? They got money to burn in that goverment?

4. Was the outcome really contested at all? Wasn't the ending the same as the ending to a porno movie?

5. And finally, boy, the Iraqi sure likes those unanimous outcomes in every vote, huh? I bet the class president is elected unanimously, too.

I Don't Wanna Grow Up

On this place I like to frequent, I keep saying that I will be 13 years old come next birthday. Now, that might be true or not, but one thing I'm sure of is that there is not that much difference between me now and me when I was 13. I would think it would go for most of the men out there as well. I mean, come on, let's face it, I like shiny things, battery powered toys, certain cartoons, playing with myself, AND think that the naked female body is a wonder of the universe. It's just that now I'm an adult so I can do certain things without too much interference since they're considered as hobbies and quirks and eccentricities, instead of being a weirdo.

Well, ok, I'm still a weirdo. But that's beside the point.

On The Inside

I got a new notebook last month, and from then on I started writing my blog ideas in it.

Here's a pic of the ideas that I haven't used yet.

And here's a picture of ideas that I already blogged about.

And I'm posting the pics of the inside of my notebook, and I'm not scared that someone might steal my ideas. After all, my handwriting is so bad, it looks like someone inked up a couple of worms and let it loose on the pages, so no one except me will be able to read it anyways. And you're REALLY desperate if you're stealing ideas from ME, anyways.

Oh, and did anyone notice that I have a new haircut?

Further Reflections

I drank till 4 with my friends, spent unfruitfully on trying to pick up chicks. I tried twice without success, and with great embarassment. I don't wanna elaborate further. And the worst part is that I couldn't get drunk, no matter how much I tried. I mean, if I could at least get inebriated, that would at least dull my shame. But I was ashamed and sober. Bad combination.

One good thing, though. I found a place with a mirror that from a distance, I look vaguely human. I think it's the curvature of the glass. I need to get me a mirror like that at once. Will do wonders for my morale.

Being Jun VI

You know what, drinking till 4 in the morning at my age isn't that beneficial to my health.

The New Pollution

Although porn is illegal here, they DO show some movies that proclaim themselves to be erotic. Usually it involves alot of clothed people rubbing each other and moaning, and very occasionally showing a nipple, or a butt cheek, or top third of a buttcrack. Crotch shots? Full frontal nudity? Forget about it. However there's something even better than a Friday night Cinemax movie: underwear commercials on home shopping networks. It's like watching a Victoria's Secret catalog live on TV, except the models aren't as hot and the cut of the underwear more chaste. But still, since you gotta SELL these things, there's alot of closeups and such on the parts where the underwear covers. And I've discovered that some of these things were so sheer that you can see right through them.

And the beauty of this is that since it's a commercial aired on basic cable and home shopping networks, and not adult material, they show it at all times during the day. I've seen them late at night of course, and also during the afternoon when they're showing kiddie shows on other channels, just flip one channel, and there's scantily clad women walking around. Suffice to say, whenever I feel a little frisky, I turn on the TV. Hehehehehe.

In My Dreams

Just recently, I've added to link to a blog by my friend Karlin. Now I'm really surprised how easily I can relate to her, and how much we're alike. Well, aside from the sexual incompatiblity issue of me being a being pervert, and her liking sex, but more straight. And then there's the minor difference that she's a vegetarian and I'm a devout flesh eater. Oh, also she likes to exercise and I like to resemble a vegetable. Then there's also the bit about her waking up before sunrise, and me being grumpy if I have to wake up before noon. Hmmm..then there's the fact that she is beautiful as well as having a great body, and me being uglier than fuck with a body like a sack of potatoes. Also, she's smart as hell, while I'm dumb as this post.

Aside from those few minor difference, I think we're really alike. I mean, if she lived closer to me and wasn't married, she would be turning me down many, many times. Yup. Now go to her blog and tell her how much she and Jun are alike.

Being Jun V

I wanna be the kind of pervert who's well-respected by his peers. As well as being a well-rounded pervert.

On The Way To The 20th Century

Recently, a Chinese university published what is equivalent here as the Kinsey Report. And I had a chance to look it over, since I am interested in that sort of things, and have run across a couple of interesting little factoids.

1. 19.4% of married women in their 30s and 5.5% in their 40s in China answered that they currently have extra-marital sex with multiple partners Wow. You go, girlfriend!

But the suprising thing is:

2. 72.2% of the males and 46.2% of the females answered they had premarital sex. Among them, 45.8% of men and 17.7% of the women says that they currently have multiple sex partners. Let's take a look at the numbers here. According to these figures, for every chick having sex, there's two dudes boinking her. Either that, or the the abovementioned married chicks are fucking the excess guys. Either way, man, is that a good country or what. I'm envious here...shit I wish things were like that where I live.

Either that, or the guys who answered the poll are doing what guys are famous for doing: Exercising their skills at hyperbole. In other words, lying through their teeth.

Being Jun IV

While other people are wearing thick, thick jackets and scarves and thermal underwear or what not, I''m really comfortable wearing just a pair jeans and a long sleeved botton down cotton shirt. Maybe it's because I'm so hot. Or is it because I'm such a cool guy?

Being Jun III

And delusion belongs to which state?

Mostly Useless

I was riding the subway yesterday, when I saw this dude on a wheelchair getting down from the stairs. And he had to call the station attendant to work the wheelchair lift. What's the use of placing a lift there if you have to call someone to use it? Doesn't that defeat the purpose already? And to make matters worse, of all the stations I observed, only like half of the newest stations have elevators, and the older stations have to use lifts, which are very rare to begin with. The worst thing is that most of the lifts seem to be broken. And there are so much stairs on the stations too, like a stairway every 10 feet or something. It's a crying shame really. Just a waste of time and money for everyone concerned. The subway authority should either try harder to make the stations more accessible to the handicapped, or they should just say fuck you to all of them. At least then they would be honest about it, and not look like only paying lip service.