I’m “gay” for gay guys

So today was one of those days where you wake up, turn off the alarm clock and say to yourself “today is going suck”. And in part, it was.

To start with, I had to take a big shit before coming to school. Luckily, I got out of English early and handled my business before my art history class. Frazzled by my 10 minute time frame to successfully drop  the brown kids off at the pool, and then go to class, I was faced with a dilemma: someone pissed on the toilet seat.

LOLOL @ the book!

Great. Just fucking great. For someone who has owned a penis for at least 18 years, I can’t believe you lack the skills of aiming. But I was pressed for time! Instead of having a brain and wiping it down with toilet paper, as any normal human being would do, I just doubled stacked those toilet paper covers and sat down.

What was good for two seconds turned out to be bad for the next 3 minutes. There I was, with piss on my ass, standing up while trying to aim for the pool (Oh shut the hell up you hypocrite! You know you’ve done this too). After that “adventure” and a quick mirror check, I went to class.

At the foot of the room were piles of backpacks. What the fuck is going on? What are we starting a bonfire? As if  God heard my inner thoughts, the professor walked in and said “Alright class! Take out a pencil for the exam!” You. Gotta. Be. SHITTING ME!!

OH MAAAAAANNNNNN!!

I turned to the next person I knew and asked “We have a test today?! TODAY?!” “Yea! But it should be easy!” Yea, it should be easy if I studied – but I didn’t. To make matters worse, it’s an art class! I’m an artsy guy! This is my forte! My specialty! Failing this test is like being a male porn star who can’t get it up. Luckily, I have no ethics so I snagged a few answers off the girl next to me.

After that stunning display of courage and heroism, I walked into math class thinking it would be a bit better. I had gone over a few problems and I was ready for action! READY AS EVER, BABY! Tuesdays are quiz days and I’m head honcho in that math class. I have an A and I barely do shit in that class because quite frankly…I’m Asian. I knew this stuff while I was still swimming in my dads balls.

That (ADORABLE) baby is currently enrolled in Caclulus 9000

But in pure “Today is the day you FAIL” fashion, I looked at the quiz and my jaw dropped. I didn’t know it. Not just that, I didn’t know ANY of it. I had no idea what to fucking do. I might as well have drawn a picture of the solar system cuz any thing else would have been wrong. I failed. I FUCKIN FAILED! (It was only worth 6 points (woo hoo) but still…I’m Asian, I could do better.)

I felt defeated. I dragged my sorry ass into the counselors office to change my major and educational plan. Originally I had arranged for a Business transfer into San Jose State University but now, I’m switching it up to Communication Studies in San Francisco State University. As I sat down listening to “slow dancing in a burning room” by John Mayer (which was totally perfect for the moment) I waited for the counselor.

hayyyyy!

Counselor: HELLO!
( I looked up)
Counselor: Is Rain-yay here? << He tried pronouncing it in the french accent
Me: Yea, right here!
Counselor: Oh I’m sorry, Rain-eer, right?
Me: Yup!
Counselor: Well hi, I’m Rob << Maybe it’s just me but Rob sounds like a gay man’s name. Just sayin.

*Okay, just so you know, I have nothing against gay people. I LOVE gay people! Gay people are among the funniest and nicest people on earth and if you disagree… well then you’re probably a red neck. And besides, if I were homophobic then how the hell is it that I can walk through the Castro as a well dressed Asian man, with tons of ripped white dudes looking at me, without a single bead of sweat running down my neck? Chyea, take that!*

As Raspberry-Rob lead me through a corridor of offices, I switched on my gaydar to detect any signs of FABULOUSNESS! In his office I saw a rainbow hot air balloon suspended from the ceiling. Coincidence? Perhaps… As Rhubarb-Rob walked me through my classes and what I needed to do, I took a few seconds to glance around the room and spot anymore gay-clues. For one, he had some really nice plants.

Straight men who put plants in their room usually buy cacti or fake trees. But no, Rainbow-Rob had these delicate leaves in nice pots and this chic square pot with purple flowers effortlessly placed behind his monitor. To add to the mystery, he had a bunch of pictures of children and no picture of a wife. He also had a picture of a white man with a graying beard. Possible partner? (Maybe it’s just me but only two types of people have graying beards: Professors and gay guys).

DUH! Of course Gandalf was gay! Why else would he wear all white?

So let’s get this straight: Rainbow ornament? Check. Fancy plants? Check. Pictures of ethnic children on his wall who obviously aren’t his real children? Check. Then, in a moment of total clarity, Riesling-Rob said

Rob: After you finish those classes just make sure you take 9 electives
Me: Can it be anything?
Rob: Anything your heart desires. You can even take ice skating – well of course, we don’t offer ice skating.

AHA! ICE SKATING! MUAHAHAA! Well Scooby, it looks like our work here is done!

rah rah rah rah rah....

After leaving his office, I felt a bit gayer (gay as in happy). I don’t know man, gay guys seem to always be in fantastic moods. Even if a you were hanging out with a gay guy and a giant bird took a crap on both of you, the gay guy would probably be like “Well that’s unfortunate!” So yea, there really is no point in this blog but to tell you about my day. Carry on.

Tim Gunn: Ranier, the sturm und drang in this blog is fabulous.

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Lesson to be learned: If you’re having

a bad day, see a gay!

Bodybuilding is for DOUCHEBAGS! I want to stay skinny forever!

There are many things in life that just don’t make any fuckin sense: Ed Hardy, Tube tops, multi-purposed appliances, and bodybuilding.

I don’t know man… despite my skinny physique, I’ve never been tempted – in any way, shape or form – to bulk up. The thought of subjecting my body to such pain and suffering, for the pay off of bigger man boobs, was always a thought at the bottom of my to do list. Besides, those buff guys, who walk around the mall with a stick up their chiseled ass, look like douchebags!

Although most guys won’t admit it, most of them do it for women. Oops! My mistake! Most of them do it for girls. Those perky titted bimbos with their furry jumpsuits make me want to shave my nipples off. It’s FUCKIN disgusting! What’s worst is when they have the whole package: fake tan, fake breasts, fake nose, big lips, big hair, expensive bag, etc.

Fuckin gross....

But what most guys may or may not realize is this: when you bulk up like that, you begin attracting a certain type of girl. Long gone are the days of hooking up with sweet, humble, down to earth girls. Girls who enjoy playing Sudoku whilst waiting for their physics class. Instead, you attract these vile, horrendous girls with the shittiest of personalities.

Is it worth it? Is it worth spending all your time and energy, only to end up with some disgusting whore who spends her time powdering her tits? Ugh! Fuckin GROSS! And as for the guys… I have never looked at one of them and thought to myself “Holy shit! I need to be more like that guy! He’s goin places! ” Never. Ever. Ever. Slap a couple bruises on these assholes and they’ll look like The Flood, from Halo.

Which one’s the bodybuilder? ROFLAWL!!

But the most horrific aspect of the bodybuilding world is (of course) the food. Nah, FUCK THAT! What they eat isn’t even food. That granulated fairy dust makes me just…UGGHH! GROSS! A couple minutes ago, I was watching a video of Ronnie Coleman and his fantastic diet. In this video, he opens up a mysterious packaged container, pops open the lid, and pours the yellow goo inside of a pan. Apparently it’s a scrambled egg substitute.

SCRAMBLED EGG SUBSTITUTE?! WHAT THE FUCKIN SHIT?! YOU NEED EGG SUBSTITUTES?! AGGGHHH!!!!

The Greatest movie ever: Freddy got Fingered

NEVER EVER EVER! How can you live with yourself?! It looks like cat litter! Dude, seriously, you’re making me gag. It’s funny watching these health nuts eat this bullshit and then listening to them spew shit out of their mouth like ” Yea, it takes like real Strawberries! Try some!” How about no? How about I eat a real strawberry. How about I take that strawberry, add more strawberries, and put it in a blender with some ice cream and milk. I’ll have one of those instead

Unfortunately, reality has struck me in the back of the head like a Chinese woman on the SFMuni – I’ve developed a gut. But it’s not a full on, white man’s beer belly, but a little chub the size of two twinkies. It aint that bad, but I’ve started to worry. ” Oh GOD! NO! What If I get bigger and bigger, and I wake up one morning, too fat to pick my own wedgies?! NOOO!!” INITIATE HEALTH MODE!

Ughh! I hate it when the paparazzi takes photos of me during my morning workout!

Being that I’m too lazy to run, I’ve decided to lower my calorie intake (which I can do easily) and I bought myself a perfect pushup. Ya know? When I first bought the perfect pushup, I felt kinda stupid. And I felt this way not because I think I am, but because I’m buying something that I saw on an infomercial. I mean caaamaaaahhn! An INFOMERCIAL! Half of the shit you see on T.V is retarded. But anyways….

I bought it. I payed like, thirty bucks for this shit and all I have to say is… it works pretty damn well. You see, I’m a lazy nerd, so if you give me some gadget to help me workout, my inner nerd will seize the opportunity to use my new toy. But this is it. No diets. No fake tans. No busty brown bitches. And most importantly: No scrambled egg substitutes. Ever.

Marry me, Padma!

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For steak, I will do anything <3

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