Haircut

Every time I get a haircut I always ask for a 2 on the side and an 8 on top. I have been doing this for a while, probably ever since I started college. The thing is, I only like my 2 on the side and an 8 on top haircut maybe about two weeks after I get it.. after my hair grows out a little. It didn't occur to me until today that perhaps I should ask for a less short haircut next time. But what should I ask for? How do the numbers and ratios of buzzer sizes really work? That was a dilemma I was thinking about while I was driving to the barber shop. Would it be a 3 and a 9 or a 3 and a 12? The question is how did I get from 2 to 3. Did I add one or did I multiply by three halves? After much deliberation, I figured if the hair on the top of my head grows at the same rate as the hair on the side of my head, then it would make no sense to go by ratios and get a 3 and a 12. Getting a 3 and a 9 would make the most sense, since it's just like getting a 2 and an 8 but with an extra eighth of an inch of hair. So, when I got to the barber shop, I confidently told the barber I wanted a 3 on the side and a 9 on top. Which he then replied, "I don't have a 9." So, I ended up getting a 2 and an 8. I will be looking pretty good in about 2 weeks.

In other news, my mom and brother have convinced me to take the GMAT's. And when I say convince, I mean more like force. But, I guess I can see the plus side of taking it early. Too bad I didn't know the difference between the GMAT's and the GRE's until last week. I actually still don't know anything about the GMAT's besides that it is out of 800. But if it is anything like the SAT's then I feel pretty confident about it. I actually took 2 sections of a practice exam just now and got tired and decided to lie down and watch youtube videos instead. I'll finish the test tomorrow, I promise. I actually do like standardized testing. I find it kinda fun to study for since you can gauge your improvement. Anyways, I guess I am taking it in November or December. Wish me luck.

Blog is still back

Hey friends. I have absolutely nothing to talk about today. I'm just updating since I boldly stated that I would be posting in it at least once or twice a week less than a week ago. I mean, if I do say so myself, I did a pretty good job with THREE updates last week. But if you don't want to waste your time, you should probably stop reading now.

Anyways, I noticed that I have still gotten zero suggestions on how to make my blog better, so thank you all for that. Although, I did put a new counter back in sometime last week and also I enabled some options blogger.com offered that I didn't know existed before. Yeeeeeeup... looking pretty good... not.

Onwards

So for those of you who don't know, I am a big brother to a little kid named Jesse who lives in Santa Ana. I don't really do much with him, we just spend a couple hours a month together doing fun stuff. I hung out with him last weekend and we went bowling. (I owned him, of course) (I actually bowled 6 strikes, pretty amazing) But anyways, I realized that he doesn't know his times tables very well. The kid is in the 7th grade. I think when we were in 7th grade, we were starting pre-algebra or something. Repeatedly asking Jesse multiplication problems made me suddenly think back to a time where I was in my basement with my mom in New Hampshire and she was making me memorize my times tables and it just made me really thankful that she did that. It also made me kind of worried for Jesse since he doesn't really seem to care at all about learning how to multiply. Not that I was a good student or anything but your times tables are so damn important! I told him that if the next time I see him he doesn't know his times tables, I'm going to beat him. Haha we will see how that works out.

Also, I think you will be surprised to hear that I have not been playing any Starcraft at all for like the last month. I have no idea why, but I just haven't. And Eunice hasn't even been here either so it's not like she's been stopping me. Pretty weird. Like my number one hobby that I love spending hours doing went out the door just like that. I hate to say it but... Am I outgrowing Starcraft?!?

Nah...

That's definitely

not

possible.



And to end this not-so-eventful post...Here's a remake of my old joke.

Q: How many Koreans does it take to eat one 10 pound dog?





A: Three... Two to get mad at each other, and one to eat it.

manager of shitty apartments

You ever meet someone that really likes to exercise what little power they have to the full extent? My god. I've only met the office manager of my apartment complex like three times but he is the hugest queer-bag ever.

When our apartment lease was up, my roommate and I went to the office to ask them if we could get a rent reduction. We ended up talking to this queen of fags. Thomas tried the "Oh we just got out of college and are looking for jobs." line. We were trying to get our rent reduced to what we payed last year. Anyways, this homo tells us that there's no way that we can get our rent reduced and then he says "Welcome to life." Oh thanks so much for welcoming me to life, manager of a shitty apartment complex!" I had no idea this was life for the last 22 years. Seriously what kind of condescending prick says that? Especially a fucking apartment manager; it's not even a nice apartment complex either. I probably made more money than this mother fucker did and he's all talking down to us like he's the shit. Welcoming me to life... what a sack of shit.

Anyways, last week, UPS sends Thomas a package and the UPS guy leaves the package in the office because we weren't home. Thomas goes home for the weekend so I go to the office with the slip they left us to pick up the package. The guy brings the package to me and asks me for ID. I said the package is for my roommate but my name is on the lease for that address. He tells me I can't take the package. I ask him if he showed the UPS guy ID when the UPS guy gave him the package. He says no. I say, yeah exactly, I wouldn't have needed ID to get the package from the UPS guy so why do I need ID to get it from you and I do have ID and I live here. I forget what he says but he's a faggot. I tell him that there is food in there and my roommate is going to be gone for a week. He says that I can get Thomas to fax something to him. Like he is going to know Thomas' signature or some shit. And I know he has seen the two of us together. Anyways, I tell him that this is retarded and just leave. The next day I come back and ask for the package and this other lady just hands it to me.

Like that was fucking so difficult. Anyways, moral of the story is don't be a fat fuck like this guy.

I am quite disappointed in myself because I seem to have had a hard time finding words to describe this guy that weren't gay related. I tried my best to think of other names to call him but I kept going back to the common homo-derogatory names, which is something I am trying to grow out of. This reminds me of a time where I was chilling at my friends house and watching T.V. with her and her gay roommate. I think we were watching some really girly show and I kept mentioning how gay everyone on that show was, totally forgetting that her roommate was gay. So she keeps kicking me and whispering and pointing to her roommate. And then I keep whispering back "Oh shit, sorry sorry sorry."

Anyways, literally like 4 minutes later we start talking about SAT's and stuff and I tell them I got a 2200 on my SAT's. Then her roommate goes oh wow why are you going to UCI? And I said "I dunno, I didn't get into UCLA but I got into UCSD but I didn't want to go." And he asks me why not? (And for those of you who don't know my close high-school friends who went to UCI talk shit on UCSD to our UCSD high-school friends all the time... to the point where I guess it comes naturally) Anyways, so he asks me why I didn't go to UCSD and without thinking, I instantly replied... more like yelled... "CUZ SAN DIEGO IS FOR FAGS!!" I seriously forgot who I was talking to until like immediately after I finished that last word. My mouth is still wide open and I kept my eyes glued to the T.V. because I was too scared to look over at him. The room is just sitting in complete silence.

Most awkward moment ever.

After about 10 seconds of awkwardness, I said "Dude, man I'm so sorry, I completely forgot, I didn't mean it like that at all." Luckily he was a cool guy.

HOARDERS

Hi unhelpful friends! So yesterday I made a post asking for people to please help with ideas on how to make this blog better. If you could scroll down and take a look, there are zero comments there. Thanks all! I feel so special. Anyways, I have decided to start posting more frequently, maybe like at least once or twice a week. I won't be posting the link on Facebook every time though because I don't want to spam your feed, but feel free to check in every now and then.

So I've been watching this show called "Hoarders" on TLC. I actually watched the whole first season on Netflix last night and today. If you've never heard of the show before, it's a documentary on people who have problems with hoarding. They can't mentally bring themselves to throw stuff away so basically their entire house is literally filled with piles of garbage and useless stuff. Basically the show brings in professionals and cleaning crews to help with their problem. Anyways, it's sad to say that some of the rooms in their houses aren't too far off from how my room looks (or used to look... I cleaned it). If you know me, you probably also know I am somewhat messy. I never had a system of having a "home" for all my items. I also don't have the "natural" tendency to pick things up after I drop them.

I never knew it was a tendency I was suppose to have until I met my girlfriend, Eunice. Eunice spends a lot of her time making a big deal about how I don't clean up messes I make. And I spend a lot of my time trying to clean up messes before she gets mad at me. Anyways, there was this one time where I went to her apartment after work. She was talking to me while I was changing and I accidentally dropped a piece of scrunched up paper on the floor.

After about five seconds she stops talking and says (with a decent amount of attitude) "Uh... you better pick that up." Where as, I reply "Of course I am going to pick it up. Why would I leave paper on the floor? I'm just changing right now and I will throw it away right after." (like her telling me to pick it up was the most pointless thing ever)

And then she doubts me.

I'm wearing a full suit so it takes me about a minute and a half to change but I spend the majority of that time telling her how little faith she has in me. And how she always over-exaggerates about how messy I am and it is NOT my fault that her apartment gets messy and she should stop blaming me. After I finish my speech, I'm feeling pretty good about myself and I walk over the the refrigerator to get some water. I look over to her and I can physically see the Korean rage coming out of her eyes. Literally less than 10 seconds have passed since I said that to her and I completely forgot about the paper I dropped. It was like one of those things where there is absolutely nothing I could say to be right in that situation. All I could do was sprint over to her, pick up the paper, sprint over to the trashcan, throw it away and laugh it off. HA HA ha ha ha h..... oops.

Don't worry, she thought it was funny too. Kind of.