tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32759782024-02-28T20:15:22.974+10:00I BE MANLY!Go inside the mind of a sex-addicted yet often times frustrated heterosexual male who happens to live on an island in the middle of nowhere.
<br><p>Name's Ham. Jun Ham.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger359125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-901691792003-03-05T20:46:00.000+10:002003-03-05T20:47:35.000+10:00<h3>Tearry Eyed Goodbye</h3>
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<br />I've finally made my site look almost the same as this as I can. There are minor differences, but I suspect those are caused by the different blogging software. And now, on to some other things that I've got planned.
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<br />So here it is, my site.
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<br /><b><a href="http://www.junham.com">WWW.JUNHAM.COM</a> is now officially open!</b>
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<br />I won't be updating <a href="http://junham.blogspot.com/">this site</a> anymore. I guess it will stay as an archive of past things, although all the entries has been transferred over to junham.com. After all, it's free!
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<br />Now, if I can only figure out how to import the yaccs comments....Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-901083422003-03-04T22:21:00.000+10:002003-03-04T22:21:42.420+10:00<h3>Fare Thee Well</h3>
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<br />My blog at <a href="http://www.junham.com/">my site</a> pretty much works now, although I'm not yet through fiddling with it, since I'm not happy with the look. And I do need to do other stuff, like tranferring my image files over and such. I think just like the current blog, I do need to crash and burn a few times and reload everything a couple of times before I start getting the hang of it. Damn css.
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<br />And I'm beginning to scare myself. I mean, I downloaded MT for crying out loud. And when I got my cable modem, I found myself downloading and watching ANIME, instead of downloading only porn. Grrrrrrrr. I beginning to act more and more like a geek.
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<br />So this is my living will. If I ever even mention about a linux install, please, please, shoot me. If it ever comes to pass, I would already be good as dead, my life would be over. So you would be doing me a favor. Please.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-900430092003-03-03T20:29:00.000+10:002003-03-03T20:29:33.670+10:00<h3>Best Medicine</h3>
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<br />I mentioned before that part of my job duties involve being a pseudo-foreman for a construction project. So today, I was visiting the office of our engineering consultant, towards like 5PM. And in the same building, there's apparently a ballet a school, since I saw alot of little tiny girls in ballet tights.
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<br />And then today, I saw this one girl, who about came up to my thighs. And oh boy, was she a definition of roly-poly. I mean she looked like she had swallowed a small beach ball. AND wearing the ballet tights. Some people should NOT be wearing tights, or allowing their kids to wear tights.
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<br />But still, it was very funny. I haven't laughed like that in several months.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-899769472003-03-02T11:38:00.000+10:002003-03-02T11:38:34.123+10:00<h3>Children Of The Mind</h3>
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<br />When I was a kid, I always assumed that I would get married, have 1.6 children, a house with a backyard, a chest full of marital aids...er...so I always thought I would have kids. Then I went to some foreign shore last year, and stayed with my cousin for a few days, who has two little boys. It's an understatement when I say that my whole worldview has changed from my experience with those two monsters. OHMYGOD. I had fight an urge every minute to knock some sense into those two dumbasses. Maybe not all kids are like them, but I really don't want to take that chance, you know.
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<br />And come to think of it, say I have a son. And when he's 15, say I find a stack of porno magazines in his room. What the fuck am I gonna say to him, since everyone knows full well that my first porno was viewed when I was in grade school? I don't really like being a fucking hypocrite, you know. And if I have a daughter, what if she brings a boyfriend home who is the exact same fucking bastard that I am? And you KNOW any of my kids would have a raging sex drive. Man, I shudder to think what kind of monsters I would rear.
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<br />All this is a moot point, anyways. I need a chick to have kids, and I haven't had a chick in over 5 years. So I think I'm safe for the forseeable future.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-899388472003-03-01T14:30:00.000+10:002003-03-01T14:30:25.250+10:00<h3>As The Jun Turns</h3>
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<br />I know I haven't been updating this as regularly as before. And it doesn't mean that I lost interest. In fact, I have even more interest that before. That's why I haven't been updating, busy coming up with plans. There's gonna be a few changes around here. Some of them are still secret, but one thing I can reveal: I've recently acquired the domain names junham.com and ibemanly.com. Naturally. I've already set up hosting and blogging software on junham.com and will fiddle with it over the weekend. The plan is to move the blog over to junham.com and export all my old blogs to there, although I haven't yet decided on whether or not I should update this as well. Well, for now, will just update both with the same things at the same time, then finally put the moose and forwarding links here, and make this my "emergency" blog.
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<br />Anyways, gotta run again, but everyone will see me more often soon, hopefully. In any case, I won't be any good to anyone in the next few weeks, since I will be in a very foul mood, tearing my hair out, trying to get the new blog to work the way I want it to work. I think a lot of cursing, kicking, and threatening immediate injury will be involved. We'll see.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-897643022003-02-26T17:43:00.000+10:002003-02-26T17:43:01.513+10:00<h3>Bitch School</h3>
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<br />Although I may not be a geek, I am fairly fond of technology. I have used computers since the Apple II and TRS-80 days and loved every minute of it. I also have carried cell phones from the days when a cell phone was as big as an attaché case and weighed like 25 pounds. And we marveled at the technology, how I can make a phone call from anywhere if I lugged that briefcase around.
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<br />I now have a Nokia 3360. It’s about as long as my finger. And I loathe it. I guess during the early days of cell phones, it was unusual enough that I felt like a rebel. And even if I’m in my 60s, I would still be a rebel. But now, I’m fucking embarrassed of the thing, I used to always hide the fact that I had a cell phone. Hid it in my pocket, under my shirt, left it in my car, etc. I guess it’s a freedom issue for me, since I view my phone as bondage to my work. If it was an ideal world, then I would only use my phone when I’m going out drinking with my buddies.
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<br />But now I’m at a kind of job where my cell phone is essential. At least their paying the airtime charges on my phone. The thing is, the years of partying have turned my brain into mush, so I keep leaving my phone behind. At least I’m alert enough to go back for it after a few minutes. But that embarrasses me more than the cell phone. So I’ve taken to carrying my phone around my neck on a lanyard, like a little kid with his lunch money. Ok so that’s embarrassing too.
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<br />Man. I can’t wait until the day I can ditch the fucking phone. But until that day, brain tumor, here I come!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-896769172003-02-25T10:31:00.000+10:002003-02-25T10:31:15.403+10:00<h3>Toni Basil Blues</h3>
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<br />There's this chick I've known for a while, about 9 months, I would guess, and we've been talking alot recently. And I'm starting to really like her. I wait everyday, longing to talk to her, and I'm genuinely happy if I DO get a chance to talk. It has become that our conversations have become the high point of my day. But since it's ME who we're talking about it, there are of course a few very large obstacles in the way. Especially there is ONE obstacle that I'm not sure if it can be overcome or not. But you know what, even if that obstacle gets in our way, it's ok with me. I just enjoy chatting with her, and if nothing more comes out of it, then I'm no worse off than I was before. And since we're friends first above anything else, and hopefully that will never change no matter what.
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<br />I am slowly learning to enjoy the moment, and not worry about the future until I have to. For now, every moment is precious, and I shall savor it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-891838922003-02-16T22:58:00.000+10:002003-02-16T22:58:49.660+10:00<h3>No Rest For The Wicked</h3>
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<br />I used to hate getting my hair cut. I guess that's why I grew my hair until it reached my waist, until I cut it off last year. But I still hated getting a hair cut. Until two days ago, the day of my last haircut. I have this dreaded J-O-B now that entails me to work 12-14 hour days 6 days a week. Since I was looking a little shaggy, I went to the beauty salon...er...BARBER SHOP! BARBER SHOP! Anyways, went to get my hair cut, and for like 30 minutes, I half-closed my eyes, let my mind wander off, and got totally relaxed. Of course I would never fall asleep in the chair, since I wouldn't know what I'll wake up to. In any event, when I got out of there, I felt oddly refreshed and energized. I say oddly, since after the job, I fully intend to grow my hair again, so I don't want to get used to liking getting my haircut.
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<br />On a related note, I was at a hospital waiting room, and I fell asleep so hard that they had to scream in my ear to wake me up. When I nap, I nap HARD.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-891256982003-02-15T13:19:00.000+10:002003-02-15T13:19:26.440+10:00<h3>Day That Will Live In Infamy</h3>
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<br />This is my fifth Valentine's Day alone. Fifth <b>CONSECUTIVE</b> Valentine's Day alone. Usually, it doesn't bother me all that much more than say, Christmas. But this year, I was at the previously mentioned construction site, which faces a back of a building. And on the balcony, I saw this couple making out, for like 20 minutes, probably thinking that they got some privacy, since after all, it IS the back of a building. But the thing was, the guy took his time, good for him, but he had like no technique. Just some face pressing. If that place was accessible, I woulda smacked him upside the head, then demonstrate on his chick the proper way of kissing a girl.
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<br />But the thing that bothers me the most is that whenever I think I'm at the lowest point, fate finds a way to make it worse, like pouring salt on an open wound. I knew fate hated my guts, but apparently it REALLY hates my guts. I mean, showing a couple making out in front of me is like pouring a glass of ice water in the sand just inches away from a man dying of thirst. If I can ever meet up with this fate asshole, I'm kicking it's ass, I swear.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-888394772003-02-10T17:51:00.000+10:002003-02-10T17:51:10.570+10:00<h3>Hard Hat And The Scarecrow</h3>
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<br />I think I mentioned before how part of my job involves being a pseudo-foreman for a particular construction project. And I don't know if anyone has been in the construction industy, but it's HARD work. I mean, I don't do any physical labor, but even I get bone weary when I watch them work for more than 20 minutes. And it's strange, but the more I spend time out there, more I think it will impress women passing by if I whistle and make catcalls at them while grabbing my crotch.
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<br />It'll be like a compliment, you know?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-887888252003-02-09T16:43:00.000+10:002003-02-09T16:43:48.083+10:00<h3>Wishes And Horses</h3>
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<br />I got a new cable modem. It works great, the overpriced son of a bitch that it is. So I'm happy.
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<br />Now if I can only get that plastic surgery and score a chick, I'll be all set.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-887476672003-02-08T17:26:00.000+10:002003-02-08T17:26:22.286+10:00<h3>Everyone’s A…</h3>
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<br />Things overheard at last year’s E3.
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<br />-My kernel is smaller than your kernel.
<br />-I love my Ellen, but she can be a little cranky when she’s rebooting.
<br />-I’m a virgin, and I’m proud of it!
<br />-0110000110010010110001101100011100
<br />-Bill Gates is the spawn of Satan, and he should burn in hell for all eternity for what’s he’s doing to…oh good morning, Mr. Gates, I LOVE YOU!!! You da man! You da man! *bows down and kisses his feet*
<br />-WHAT? Larna772, my wife at Sims Online, is a GUY?
<br />-Sure I live in my parents’ basement, but I pay rent!
<br />-Why don’t you say hello to my dates, leftie and rightie.
<br />-Of course I don’t download porn with my 3 megabit connection. I got better things to do with…is that Jenna Jameson?
<br />-Linux is REALLY simple to use.
<br />-/me summons a thungarian demon, kills Billy, steals all his mana points.
<br />-What are GIRLS doing here? They don’t belong here, d00d. They’re not 3133t.
<br />-Oh my god, I just shook Chris Pirillo’s hand! I’m never washing my hand ever again!
<br />-No…Yoda can kick Darth Vader’s ass, easy. But no one can beat Wesley Crusher!
<br />-You mean I don’t <b>have to</b> pay for sex?
<br />-Recompile THIS!
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-886257002003-02-06T13:02:00.000+10:002003-02-06T13:02:34.100+10:00<h3>The Good, The Bad, And The Jun</h3>
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<br />I GETTING A CABLE MODEM!!!!!!! YAY! *Does happy joy dance* I just went and applied for it a few hours ago, and I'm getting it installed hopefully tomorrow or for sure on day after tomorrow. And everyone knows what that means. Gigabytes and gigabytes of new porn on Jun hard drives. I don't have to spend a week downloading a single video from now on. Now, it will take only minutes. Sheesh, I just realized, I probaby need to get another hard drive...either that or a really fast CD burner. Hehehehehehehe.
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<br />The bad is the upload is done through the phone line. So I still need that extra line, and I only get 33K upload speed. The download speed is 500k. Not spectacular, but it sure beats dialup anyways. And oh yeah, then there's the price. $110 a month plus $225 for the modem. *Cringe*Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-885259282003-02-04T21:28:00.000+10:002003-02-04T21:28:15.443+10:00<h3>Model Behavior</h3>
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<br />I swear, if I see one more boy with a Harry Potter haircut and Harry Potter glasses, I’m gonna fucking throttle his mother. What the hell are they thinking, making their kids look like some sorcery nerd-boy? The boy should have better role models than some little loser from a bad Revenge of The Nerds movie. Like the kind of role models I used to have as a kid. Such as John Curtis Estes, Thomas Bryan Taliaferro, Jr., Ron Hyatt, and Gregory Hippolyte Brown. You know, real role models to help boys become <b>MANLY!</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-884472152003-02-03T11:56:00.000+10:002003-02-03T11:56:14.656+10:00<h3>MANLY Not Stupid</h3>
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<br />I was driving around today, work related, when I saw a sign for Valentine's Day roses on the side of the road. In a <b>GAS STATION</b>. For some reason, this is vaguely disturbing to me. Not that a gas station is selling roses-hey, anything to make a buck, right? The frightening thing is that there are people actually BUYING roses at a gas station. Probably the same guys who buys Christmas presents at the drug store on Christmas Eve.
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<br />Now, I am terrible with date. Birthdays, anniversaries... Hell, for the past several years, I've forgotten even my own birthday, much less anyone else's. Just realize a few days later that my birthday had passed by already. But I do remember stuff like Valentine's day and stuff, because after all, it's being pounded into my head anywhere I go. Valentine's Day IS kind of wasted on me though, since I'm too stupid AND unlucky to pull off anything fancy or complicated. I'll just end up fucking it up and looking stupid. So forgoing romance, I usually go for perhaps a bottle of perfume and/or flowers, a dinner, and a few hours of orally servicing the chick.
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<br />If I HAVE a chick, of course. See: Unlucky. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-884180212003-02-02T21:13:00.000+10:002003-02-02T21:13:18.296+10:00<h3>Sunday, Bloody Sunday</h3>
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<br />The depression is back. With a vengence. Well, it is a good thing in a way, since when I'm depressed, I'm usually not so bleak about things anymore. Just quiet. The despair comes in because I know exactly why I am depressed, but I feel powerless to do anything about it, all with fate hating my guts and all that. She occasionally looks my way, see that I'm not suffering enough, and piles on a little more shit. Ah hell. I've been like this for years now, going in and out of depression. It's nothing new, so I should be able to deal with it.
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<br />On that note, I promise my entries from now on would be lighter and funnier. After all, I can't lose all those people dropping in from googling for gay porn now, would I?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-884066392003-02-02T14:22:00.000+10:002003-02-02T14:22:38.353+10:00<h3>Mission Control</h3>
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<br />My sincerest and heartfelt condolences to the family and friends of the astronauts in the Shuttle Columbia. I hope they can take comfort in the fact that they knew the inherent risks going in, and that they had died while fulfilling a mission. <b>THEY BE MANLY!</b>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-883561332003-02-01T11:32:00.000+10:002003-02-01T11:32:23.796+10:00<h3>Day After Tomorrow</h3>
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<br />Damn. I still haven't found a quick and painless way to die. And that person still doesn't realize that they did anything wrong and is blaming me for insulting them. Heh. Figures.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-882621592003-01-30T21:36:00.000+10:002003-01-30T22:09:18.000+10:00<h3>End Of The Line</h3>
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<br />I’m not seething anymore, but I’m still hurt and offended. What hurt me the most, I guess, was the implication that I was boring. While this other person was so fun and interesting so was worth several late nights in a row, I was so boring and sleep-inducing that I wasn’t even worth one hour on a Saturday night. Shit, I wasn’t worth even five fucking minutes of their time until I bitched vehemently about it. And even then, it was so half-hearted and patronizing that I couldn’t stand it.
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<br />And the really offensive and insulting part was that it wasn’t even spoken. I remember a blog I wrote last year when I said the biggest way to insult me is to call me boring and uninteresting. And this was even worse. I mean, if I was told I was uninteresting, I would have been hurt, but I wouldn’t have been this angry. But that person was leading me on with words, saying how important I was to that person, while their actions CLEARLY told me that I was so uninteresting and dull that I wasn’t even worth five fucking minutes, while, as I mentioned before, spending like three nights up with this other person. And after all, actions are much more honest that words.
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<br />And you know what? If someone thinks I’m that dull, fine. I don’t want anything to do with that kind of a person anyways. I’ll just give my blessing to them and go away quietly and die, or something. It’s ok with me. I got nothing to lose anyways. Never wanted to be so old to be considered boring. So I think I should go away before I become even more useless and pathetic.
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<br />Good bye, cruel world.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-882307182003-01-30T08:29:00.000+10:002003-01-30T08:29:45.316+10:00<h3>So I Said I Never Get Emotional</h3>
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<br />Just when I was thinking I was finally getting out of my depression, my bad luck strikes again. Someone who I thought was my friend and actually care about me went and stabbed me in the back. Over the weekend, I requested, no, BEGGED ON MY KNEES for a favor. And got refused. And now that person, completely ignoring me, went and did that favor for someone else. Twice. In a row. Not only that, but I don’t know if I’m death-defyingly boring or something, but that person ALWAYS goes to bed at 10 PM sharp when with me, even on weekends, but with spent two nights up to 2 in the fucking morning in a row on weeknights with this other person. The first night, I was just hurt. Now it’s pissing me off. I just thought that person was like that with everyone. Turns out, it was only me who was that somniating. Perfectly willing to stay up all night with anyone else that comes around, except me. I might be desperate and pathetic, but I am not THAT desperate and pathetic. Even someone as desperate and pathetic as me don’t need that kind of a “friend”.
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<br />I guess I was wrong thinking that that person was actually a friend. Not even a former friend. Was killing some time until someone better came by. So basically I was used. And I guess that’s that.
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<br />Jesus fucking Christ, I soooo want to kill myself right now. Or even worse, cry. I wish I was still living on the 24th floor so I can throw myself out the window or something. I mean, I lived through a lot, but I was never betrayed like this. If I’m not even worth an extra hour on a Saturday night and can be ignored at will, I guess I can just go and die, I guess.
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<br />I am so fucking pissed off that I’m shaking, and I’ve been shaking for an hour. And I’m not even horny. It’s THAT serious. Sheesh. Can’t fucking believe I worked for a year and a half for THIS. Being betrayed by someone who I once thought was a very good friend. It was all a big fucking lie, I guess. Or else, there's no other explanation to how I was pushed aside like fucking yesterday's newpaper four days in a row.
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<br />So I’m going to bed. Wish I can die in my sleep and not wake up. But with my luck, that will never happen, either. Gonna live forever, being treated like shit from people who I thought were friends, but was just using me as a place card. DAMMIT. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-881501392003-01-28T21:29:00.000+10:002003-01-28T21:29:56.296+10:00<h3>When Geeks Attack</h3>
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<br />I can't stand all these geeks making disparaging remarks about the Superbowl. And as a former high school football player, I take great umbrage and offense to that. I mean, what did we ever do to you? Did we ever steal your girlfriend? Did we ever make you look small and pathetic? Did we ever lock you up in your own locker? Did we ever beat you up? Did we ever flush your head in the toilet bowl? Did we ever shave the inner half of each eyebrow off?
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<br />Ok. So we did. But so what? It was all in good fun.
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<br />And besides, you mention ONE THING wrong with their little Clio or the Linux configuration, and the geeks throw the biggest pansy-ass hissy fit ever. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-880900052003-01-27T20:35:00.000+10:002003-01-27T20:35:49.910+10:00<h3>Yellow Bellied Black Snake</h3>
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<br />Part of my J-O-B entails me supervising some construction work, because my company is building a rather large extension to our facilities in a very tight schedule. And of course, I live on a tropical island. So I've been developing a tan. The problem is, I'm outside in jeans and a shirt, so only my arms and face get tanned. Everywhere else is lily white. Oh, and except for my unit. For some reason, it hardly ever gets out in the sun, but it's tanned too. I said it before, I'm an honorary black man. Heh.
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<br />And to make it even worse, one of my friends called me sickly looking when I was without my shirt. Said I looked if I was ill or something. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Soon as I have a couple of days off, I'm hitting the beach and getting an all-over tan. Of course, with my luck, the day I hit the beach will be the day that rains all day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-880012552003-01-25T20:34:00.000+10:002003-01-25T20:34:03.520+10:00<h3>Morality Tail</h3>
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<br />Now I am not the most moral person in the world. In fact, can't say I have much morals, period. But I know this guy who keeps a mistress on the side and his wife one day landed in the ER with a piece of broken off cucumber inside her. Everyone knows I got nothing against keeping a piece or two or three on the side. But that's only when you're satisfying the main partner first. Or if your partner is not providing enough lovin'. Then it's all cool. But I don't understand just why you're married if you're not gonna keep him or her sexually satisfied <b>and</b> in the meantime, fucking someone else. If you're not fucking at all, then ok, it's not optimal but I UNDERSTAND.
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<br />Let me just say, the wife caught him in the act at an anonymous phone tip. Serves the bastard right.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-879504782003-01-24T20:56:00.000+10:002003-01-24T20:56:47.250+10:00<h3>Brain Juice</h3>
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<br />I don't know what's up, but for some reason, I had this terrible urge to express myself recently. Problem is, I can't think of a single good idea to write about. But I'm sure if I get an idea, I can kick ass with it. Will be the best thing I ever wrote, most likely. Only if I can come up with that one idea. Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3275978.post-878942182003-01-23T21:56:00.000+10:002003-01-23T21:56:53.000+10:00<h3>Plastic Syndrome</h3>
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<br />I don't know if this is true or not, since I read it in a sports tabloid. In any event, it had this article about the strange and/or outrageous demands of female superstars who think they're princesses. And of Jennifer Lopez, one of her demands to Ben Affleck was that he sexually satisfy her at least 3 times a week. You know what? Most guys would give their left leg, arm, chest, in fact, whole left side of the body save the relevant parts if they can nail Jennifer Lopez three times a week, even before she can ever demand it. I guess being handsome, rich, and saving the world from nuclear terrorists has its fringe benefits, after all.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com