Saturday, April 22, 2006

Just Trying To Be Helpful

Everyone always accused me of often being a deliberate jerk; but it's not really true, it's just that my social skills are so inept that I often come across that way.

For example.

A friend of mine introduced me to a girl he had met a few weeks before -- "This is Irina, she's been really helpful to me," -- this guy doesn't speak much Russian, and she'd helped him do a few things he needed to do, etc, etc.

She was wearing a shirt with some Turkish writing on it.

"What does that say," I asked.

"I don't know," she replied.

"Well, you should find out. How do you know it doesn't say "I'm a big whore" or something like that?"

Well, just trying to be helpful, but she replied, "If I was a man, I'd punch you in the mouth."

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam

These weird spams full of random words really freak my ass out. . . I assume that's some kind of crap to elude spam-detectors, but any William Burroughs fan can tell you that random arrangements of words are a subliminal porthole to greater knowledge. . .

Here's one I got the other day:

revolver floppy at resilient... vibration, pullover on obtain, boo? Spanish braise verify moo deformed diabolical in
mystique abridge... who sorbet semifinal, in generalization in twelve undertone in naivete of skeptically of picker whatchamacallit it loudness the and
netting beggar with skeleton a on roadkill possibility in maliciously agenda as
countenance slyly syllabi embezzlement. or
nervousness in thoughtlessness, intruder actual of
portable defer the but?! insanity condiment in?! usual a
publisher of drug an hackneyed.

Indeed! I think my revolver is floppy at resilient, and netting beggar with skeleton a on roadkill is a definite goal for the next few months.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Former Girlfriend Predicts My Future

Last May I started going out with this girl from Kazakhstan. She was with a guy when I met her, but she broke up with him on the spot. We came to my house briefly with a couple of other people to change and have a few drinks before going to a nightclub and she gave me a blowjob in the kitchen while the other people sat, rather uncomfortably, in the living room.

We went out for a few weeks, but we really didn't get along well at all -- or, I should say, we got along in bed fairly well but not really anyplace else.

We broke up several times, but then always would get horny and end up in bed again, until finally I bit the bullet and insisted that the arguing had to end once and for all, and we shouldn't see each other.

Within about three months, she was married to another guy she knew. Then she was pregnant about two months later.

She continues to send me SMS messages occasionally, berating me for not being married.

"You're going to be an old stinker!" she warned me today.

On the other hand, another acquaintance -- one of the girls from the NAKED NAUGHTY NEW YEAR story on the website -- is getting divorced, at age 22, after a year and a half of marriage. She says she'll never ask me again why I'm not married.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Punching Bag

They got a punching bag at my sports club last January, so I've been hitting it regularly for a few months now -- started out with just straight rights and left, but have gotten considerable better and am now throwing good combos, hooks, and even some pretty decents knees, elbows and kicks. (One of the teachers here used to kickbox and gave me some pointers.)

It's now become nearly an hour of my routine.

I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that because of this, every joint and knuckle I have hurt, and I am one tough, punch-throwing arthritis-ridden
muthafucka.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

Yours Truly

God Punishes Me

Last week I went out to a club I don't usually go to, a kind of old-school Russian place where older people hang out, with zebra-skin sofas and low-level gangsters (ban-deets, as they're known here) and a lot of women in their twenties, many divorced and looking for a second husband.

I met a girl and spent the evening making out with her; turns out she was married and has a child.

Nonetheless she called me repeatedly during the week and urged meeting again.

So finally I did, on Friday. We danced a few times, she bought me some vodka, then she saw one of her husband's friends and had to run off and pretend like we weren't together.

I left the club and almost immediately stepped in a pothole while crossing the street and twisted my ankle, which is now the size of a grapefruit.

I was laid up all day and night Saturday playing old Playstation games on the Playstation 1 I bought in Thailand in 1999. Lara Croft rules.

Although a lot of those adventure games suck in retrospect. They always break down to running around looking for keys. I spend enough time looking for keys in real life.