Off to the gym ...

... to get yolked!

Today was chill with guitar practice. I rocked out with a classical song entitled on the music sheet Classic Dance. Wow, that sounds rhetorical.

I just remembered that yesterday at the GNC, a security guard with the name tag of Ricafort, Brian and I were talking about the correlation between sex and athletic performance for males. Popular belief has always stated that sex would tire athletes. However, recent studies have shown that sex the day before a game followed by a good night's rest would result in more testosterone the next day, thus positive in terms of performance during the game. And that was another day at the GNC.

So to prevent possible laziness that would prevent me from attending Capoeira class tomorrow, like it did yesterday, I busted a #3 to Richard's friend, Edlin, the first-time-raver whom I met last weekend on the 2nd day of EDC. Oh yeah, and it's a #3 only because I don't have a partner right now to actually do it. Let's see if it works.

To Life! Fuck it!

I went to the GNC to visit Brian. I finally found out why I couldn't get ahold of him at EDC. He wasn't there! After his brother picked him up, instead of going home so that he could get ready, he was informed that his uncle had a heart attack and that they had to go straight to the hospital. He was trying to get out of it, but the guilt trip that his family imposed on him prevailed. He sold his ticket for $60, unaware that he could raise the price on the day of the event. Ah, this would have never happened if only he rode with me like I asked him to. Yup, an "I told you so" moment in my favor.

I wanted to go to Capoeira class, but decided against it at the last second as I still felt fucked up from the weekend.

It was so good to eat at Red Robin instead. This waiter named Gabe, who has become familiar with me, and I struck up a conversation about the weekend. Apparently he knew about EDC. I guess it's becoming mainstream. That might be a sign of even more crowdedness in future raves. Dammit.

Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) 2009

Day 1:

Michael came to my house.

Ryan (me):   We're gonna chill for a while.
Michael:  Umm ... ok.

Later ...

Michael:   (Sarcasm) Great.  Rush hour traffic.
Ryan:   Oh shit! It's Friday!
Michael:  ... I was wondering why you were like, "We're gonna chill."   You looked so serene sitting there making beads that I didn't wanna interrupt such a serene moment.



Lots of room to move in the LA Coliseum.   Just the way I like it.

Yup, empty space.

Michael and I went on that spinner ride and he lost his phone as it was launched from his pocket.  I also saw Chris, a.k.a. Bites, who's the nephew of Carlos' buddy Eric, while in line for the ride.

There were Chinese Lion Dancers on the coliseum dance floor.

Peeps walking on stilts.

A chick whipping her tigers.

The coliseum at night.

Michael and I rule.

That's a chick that Michael felt up because she took his hands and felt herself with them.  And they made out.  Her guy friend was jealous. I would've brawled to save Michael, but fortunately I didn't have to, fortunately because I didn't feel like it.

Ryan:   I wanna see Shiny Toy Guns at 11:20.
Michael:  They're here?
Ryan:  You've heard of them?

SHINY FREAKIN' TOY GUNS

Day 2:

I rolled up with Richard.  He introduced me to his friend, a first-timer named Edlin.  I said to myself that normally Edlin is the type of chick I'd put into my database and extract for later use when I'm all alone.  But it occurred to me: I can't just go busting a #3 to every cute chick I meet!  It cheapens me, doesn't it?

Edlin, Richard and I.

Mission:  Go to sound control area in the middle of the coliseum and ask for Julio to retrieve Michael's lost phone.  Sounds simple, right?  Wrong!

Obstacle:  Traffic of people.

Obstacle:  Security guard rolling.  Unable to communicate with him.

Obstacle:  No one knows who Julio is.

Obstacle:  People within sound control area had no idea it was sound control area.

Aftermath:  Julio was the sound guy.  He had stepped out.  He said ask for Curtis.  But a raver let the security guard let me in, found Curtis, and gave me the phone.  Target acquired!

I made new friends.  Left to right: Ryan (me), John, Jamie, Sophia, and Ron.

John and I with light-up teeth.  I got mine in Vegas last summer.  John found his on the floor that night after I busted mine out.  Yay fate!

Marcus Schulz on stage in front of a screen that says: Electric Daisy Carnival.  It was during this set that I discovered that apparently being scratch could feel nice.

I found Son and introduced him to my new friends.  He's from D.C.  I first met Son during the Winter Music Conference in Miami, Spring Break 2006.  I had never see him as fucked up as I saw him.  He said he did 12.  I introduced him to my new friends.

Sophia gave him a massage to make him feel better.  I sat down next to him.  I tried to talk to him about Law School.

Ryan:  So I take the LSAT.

Son:  Yeah, you take the LSAT ...

Ryan:  What's the next step?

Son:  And then the next step is ... um ... and then you ... um ...

1 minute later ...

Son:  And then you ... um ...

This process keeps repeating ...

Son:  I know the words.  I just can't say them right now.

Son tried his liquid dancing.  He couldn't spin, nor could he see anything on my camera or phone.  Son then tried another spot on the floor.  Spinning wasn't happening.

There were no porto-potties in the coliseum and security guards weren't letting anyone back in near the end during Paul Van Dyk's set ... so I ended up taking a massive, 1-minute long piss on the dance floor.  Teeheehee.  Ron covered me on one side.

The Human Tornado had been wrestling at EDC both nights, including being under the influence on the second night, AND wrestled at Pro Wrestling Guerrilla (PWG) the day after.  We hung out in the parking lot during intermission.  Each wrestler made his entrance to a Michael Jackson song.

Final thoughts:

• The locals offering their driveway for $15 - $20
  
• The parking attendants dancing
• The stage playing nothing but Michael Jackson songs
• The security guard busting out Michael Jackson moves while guarding the gate
• The drunk ass security guard
• The sober security guard trying to imitate everyone's liquid dancing
• The cashier wearing candy
• 500-600 people rioting, knocking cops off their bikes and crashing the gate

Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon

Gosh, they come in 3s.  Ed McMahon died 2 days ago, but I only cared now when I just found out he was the host of Star Search, which I watched as a kid.

Farrah Fawcett finally gave in to her battle with anal cancer.

But the real story is Michael Jackson, the King of Pop.  Upon coming home from my FMA pre-test with Guro (and damn I really wanna take a hiatus after my real test as I'm fed up with his attitude problem), I discovered on the news that Michael Jackson died ... and so did a part of my childhood.

I was the first to Moonwalk back in Providence High School (PHS).  At the time, everyone was doing Usher's sideways Moonwalk.  But I was the first to do it backwards, true MJ style.  When PHS outlawed breakdancing and everyone resorted to popping & locking, I did it MJ style as he had just celebrated 40 years of his career.  And in my Theater 111 class during my first semester at CSUN, Fall '02, Eugene and I did an MJ style dance battle.

Words fail me at the moment.

It was my first time seeing Mark in months when I stopped by his place after midnight to pick up some records.  That's a code word, by the way.

Listen to my dancing feet

Gosh, Michael and I just cannot coordinate on a meet-up.

Mom took my car to the shop for an oil change and check-up.  Of course those dirty mechanics would always try to find something wrong to repair and make more money.  Here's what I imagine goes on:

Mexican mechanic:  Oh, well, you need a new Flux Capacitor.  You have a blown Transformer.  You also need to change your speakers for your Night Rider.

Mom:  Oh, ok.  How much will all that be?

Later ...

Mom:  I don't think we can eat at restaurants for the next month.

Goddammit.

I visited Brian at the GNC and we discussed Danny McBride (of The Foot Fist Way fame) doing his ecstasy dance, made fun of that loiterer Manuel always quitting weights when he starts to feel the burn, the disappointing ending to Breaking Dawn (the final Twilight book), how I'm now only a Twilight fan because Kelly Clarkson (my future baby's mama) is, the upcoming Bruno movie, and most importantly this weekend's Electric Daisy Carnival.

While Brian was in the back, I pretended to be in charge of the store and even winged it with a few customers.  I was practicing my Danny McBride ecstasy dance when this waitress named Eve, formerly of Zono Sushi in Glendale who had recognized my mom and I as regulars, bursted in after stopping her car in front.

Ryan (Me):  How'd you find me?

Eve:  I just saw you.  I work in the Zono Sushi in Burbank now.  Tell your mom.

I told my mommy.  Speaking of my ultra Christain (despite Catholic) Prop-8-supporting mommy, she has apparently been trying to brag that I'm scared of gay people, an attempt at having people see me as as molded in her personal views.  For example, in real life, I declined University of California Santa Cruz (UCSC) in favor of CSUN because the latter was ranked as #1 for Film that year.  But according to my mommy, I declined UCSC because I was "scared of some gay court there."

Bollocks!  I love lesbians.

Work, drugs!

It was a low wattage guitar practice.  Change of plans.  Michael has enough gas now to drive to my house, so I didn't have to drive to Burbank where I would've visited the Hot Topic there to check out this white girl employee of theirs who I've thought about while alone, busting a #3.  But someday, I will renew that database.

I can't take the freeway to the Poo Bah Record Shop because it's actually wrong on Mapquest.  Colorado Blvd. goes on forever, running through Glendale, Eagle Rock and Pasadena.  But I'll have to give Michael his Electric Daisy Carnival ticket maybe tomorrow.  Mom called me.

I saw mom's hairdresser, who to me is tita Dory, for the first time since I was a mid-teen.  She had cut my hair for most of my life, beginning when I was 1 year old, before my current rockstar image.  She fixed my hair, though I was hesitant.

Tita Dory:  When you were a kid, you didn't trust anyone with your hair but me!  And now you don't trust me?  How dare you!

Anyway, I look a lot sexier.  Too bad I broke my diet for EDC by eating a Tommy's chili cheese burger, chili cheese fries and a large lemonade while waiting.  Speaking of which, this clip from a show starring Danny McBride (of The Foot Fist Way fame) is my inspiration for EDC:

And we keep moving

Michael:  You busy?

Ryan (Me):  I'm just on my laptop.  I got porn on one window and Kelly Clarkson on another window.

Michael:  Are you, like, mixing and matching faces.

Ryan:  Nah, just giving the porn a soundtrack ... but also clicking from one to the other to pretend it's a music video.

I gotta go to the Poo Bah Record Shop in Pasadena to pick up an EDC ticket for Michael.  I'm gonna have to do it tomorrow (I got sidetracked by Capoeira today), right before guitar practice so I can multi-task: 1) drop it off to him afterward and 2) since he lives near the Burbank mall, I can stop by the Hot Topic store there to check out this white girl employee who I've thought about a bunch of times before when all alone busting a #3.  It's always good to renew the database.

Michael:  Do you have a car?  'Cause I'm on E right now.

Ryan:  You're on E?

Michael:  No!  I mean ... I'm not rollin!'  I meant my car's on Empty.

Capoeira training was at the Sylmar Park.  Andres' dog ran a lap around the park with us.  I'm not used to playing in the dirt.  It was one of my crappy days.  Apparently Steph has a crush on Jacob Black in the upcoming New Moon (Twilight sequel).  I got to plug my good news that my future baby's mama, Kelly Clarkson, will contribute to its soundtrack.

I'm a huge Twilight-- I'm a nerd Twilight fan!

Kelly Clarkson

I'll be honest, I couldn't call myself a true fan because of the final book hyping up a final battle that never took place and a cheep "happily ever after."  But if my future baby's mama is a nerd Twilight fan, I stand behind her.

Matt, the Leisure Suit Advocate, should be in Japan right now.  I wonder if he'll be able to get establishing shots, as well as some Japanese dude saying "This is John Conner," another saying "Come with me if you want to live," and a buff guy with "I'll be back" for our Terminator: the Sarah Connor Fanfics.

At our last Capoeira class at the Boys and Girls Club, when the staff required me to sign in, since I don't like giving out my real name, I signed in as Derek Reese.  Speaking of which, here's what some writer named Ashley had to say about killing off half the T:SCC cast in it's final episodes:

"So, Derek Reese is dead. And Charley Dixon is dead, too. Dead, because we killed them. We sat down, and we wrote it, and we killed them.

Okay. So here’s the deal. It’s not like we enjoy doing that. Trust me, I know what you guys think. I’m a fan – I know how we think. I know what I invest in, I know how I invest in those things. It’s not rational. It doesn’t make sense. We bond emotionally with characters because they speak to something in us. So when they die … It hurts. 

This is not an apology. This is me confessing on our behalf. Not to ask forgiveness, not because we crave absolution. Because we want you to know that sitting in the writer or producer’s chair doesn’t deaden you to the horror or pain that unfolds in your characters lives, just because you chose that they would suffer it.

You love these people. I loved them, too. I loved Riley. I loved Jesse (jury is out I know – but go with it). I loved Charley. And I loved Derek. They were heroes. Flawed heroes. Tragic heroes. But heroes, every one. Which is a pretty romantic way of saying they were screwed from “go”. Because it’s the destiny of the hero to die.

I read something once that stuck with me as a writer, though the source is lost to memory: you haven’t told a character’s story unless you’ve told the story of his death. I’ve meditated on this for years. Really. It’s not as simple as it sounds. It’s not about telling all the beats of the story, from cradle to grave. It’s about how we understand a character’s life through an understanding of his or her death.

Riley Dawson died a fighter, struggling to survive – in the end, an animal. The kind of animal that could survive Judgment Day. If Jesse is dead, she died alone … in her own mind systematically betrayed and disappointed by everyone she believed in and risked all to protect. Defiant. Charley Dixon sacrificed himself not for John Connor, future leader of mankind – he did it for John, the boy he called “son” in his heart. Derek Reese died like a soldier. Doing the job. Exactly the way he expected he would. No blaze of glory. No eulogy. Only the mission. His number came up, as everyone’s eventually must in the cold mathematics of war. 

If that’s small comfort to you, you’re not alone. It’s not supposed to be comforting. It’s supposed to be a kick in the gut. It’s supposed to hurt like hell. On some level, The Terminator franchise is about the value of human life. Death is the scale on which it is measured. Pain means it matters.

And we keep moving."

I'm watching a historic, commercial-free WWE RAW right now with Donald Trump.  Guro, that deadbeat FMA instructor, FINALLY texted me back to schedule training for Thursday.  And I'm off to the gym to get sexy for this weekend's Electric Daisy Carnival.

From my Blackberry

Steph from Capoeira had her high school graduation party yesterday at Kevin's house in Panorama City.  I picked up a congratulatory card for her from Hallmark in Glendale Galleria on my way there.  I spelled her name with an "f," but later realized she spells it with "ph."  FML.

On the road, Kevin broke the news to me, "But there's no beer."  Dammit.

Most of the Capoeiristas were there.  I was messing with Certel - I still don't know how that's supposed to be spelled - the new student who taught me how to shoot in properly, as she told me she's Vegan and lectured me while I ate my steak.  I tried to apologize to the cow, albeit while I was slicing and enjoying it.

Their dance floor was not my scene.  Some latin music I was unfamiliar with.  Andres suggested Reggae to me, describing that it allows one to stand in place alone and bob one's head.  Something called the Dub Club on Wednesday nights.

Certel finally pulled me up to go dance, but realized she didn't know this one.  Andres insisted to her, "You started something.  You better finish it."  He taught us on the dance floor.  It reminded me of my ballroom dancing lessons last year.  I just remember that one track was Suavamente, which drove my group and I crazy during our Spring Break in Rosarito back in 2005 because it was on loop.

Jesse introduced me to his friend Danny, who had been raving since 2006.  I think we did good in swaying Jesse and Kevin to go to Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) this Saturday.

Danny:  Cell phones don't work there.

Ryan (me):  No, cell phones work.  (pointing to my head) WE don't work.

We agreed.  We found Kevin indoors.  He had been busy with some girl that he introduced to me as Sarah.  She was a little overdressed in a black dress.  Jesse's friends Carlos and Ian pointed out that I look buff.  Carlos suggested maybe even buffer than Kevin, who's already pretty big for a 20-year-old.  I was wearing my Fight Rules shirt, which shows off my pectoral muscles.  The conversation shifted when Sarah asked about my gray eyes.

Kevin:  (about my eyes) I get lost in them.

Had we not all been friends, and if we were homophobic, we would've probably said that was gay.

Anyway, 1) there was a cute white girl there.  I didn't get her name.  But despite being with a boyfriend, I caught her checking me out.  And 2) some chick name Alejandra, whom I've seen in a couple of our Capoeira classes, though she's never played in the roda, was there.  I'm not gonna lie.  I've thought about Alejandra before ... when I was all by myself ... busting a #3.  Apparently it's been insinuated, by Steph and then later by Ian, that she has a reputation.  Anyway, I got to add the white chick to my database.

Jesse, Ian and I got to watch Kevin try to drive a stick-shift as we rode in their friend Chad's car when we picked him up from his work at Blockbuster.  The car stalled once.

*****

Today was Father's Day.  I greeted all the fathers in my phonebook.  I woke up early, but went back to sleep and later woke up at around 1 PM.  I missed Church.  My mom and I picked up her sister from the Bob Hope Burbank Airport.  Their screaming miscommunication nearly caused several accidents.

We ate at Outback in Northridge.  Our waitress was named Julie B.  She was a dark haired white girl that looked like a cross between vaguely a young Stephanie McMahon and a belly-button-ring-wearing chick in a video that I found on Youporn and saved to my Favorites.  Julie B is now saved in my database.

I then went to my cousins Janine and Jillian's house where I started typing this from my Blackberry and now at home finishing it on my laptop.

Fuck it! Get ready!

I'm starting to become concerned not knowing when my next training with Guro is.  My test was supposed to be before the end of the month.  I already told him that I was going to be out of town from the 26th - 28th, both nights of EDC and the third day as recovery day.

I was half an hour late for Capoeira as I was eating my chicken adobo and halo-halo.  I played the atabaque drum today for the first time.  We had a new student named Veronica who looked just all right.  (What's up with frequently encountering the name Veronica lately?  The chick Alex hooked up with in Vegas was Veronica, the chick at the Cheesecake Factory is Veronica ...)  I really don't check out anyone in Capoeira because we don't have many chicks and the ones that we do have are too jailbait for me.  Therefore, our new student looking just all right in our chick-drought environment was enough to make me wanna ... um ... think about her when busting a #3.

The bad news is that the Boys and Girls Club is closing at 6PM for the summer.  We can't start class earlier than 5PM and we need at least 2 hours for class, so our classes for the summer will be at Sylmar Park.  It's just that Filipino Martial Arts (FMA) classes with Guro in a park ruined training in a park for me.

Kevin from Capoeira and his band was playing at a house party in Canoga Park, but I don't like going to house parties without back-up ... just in case.  Sure, Kevin would be there.  But what were we supposed to do if anything went wrong?  Defend ourselves with our Capoeira?

Matt's leaving for Japan on Sunday, so it was time for pancakes at Denny's - IHOP is pathetic for closing early at 10PM on a Friday - in tribute to Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles.  Our waitress was this chick named Lorena, who has been working there since my CSUN days.  I remember back then, she was so flirty that it provoked me to think about her while busting a #3.  Heartbreakingly, she's more jaded now.  Perhaps it really is an appropriate time for someone to give it to her.

Anyway, the point is: Terminator: the Sarah Connor Fanfics is a go!

Watching The Foot Fist Way DVD doesn't get old.  Julio is our hero.  

Coincidentally, Fight Club was on Spike TV and I was wearing my Fight Club shirt.  This led to philosophical discussions such as: 

• Tyler Durden's possible influence on guys today thinking they can be badass by looking feminine
• Brad Pitt's mutilating his teeth for his role as Tyler Durden versus Christian Bale's anorexia for his role in The Machinist
• The questionable heterosexuality behind guys crossing their legs, exemplified by Thomas Dekker in interviews and Captain Kirk in the new Star Trek movie 
• the ethics of John Connor banging his cyborg, Cameron
  

Oh shit, we forgot to say grace

You ever have one of those moments where you see some attractive stranger and you try to slow down the moment, knowing that it's temporary, but you know their image will stick with you for a long time afterward?  Those are rare, but today was such a day.

I was at the gas station and this chick pulled up to the pump on the other side of mine, to the left.  I was stunned she was wearing all black because of the heat.  Sleeveless black shirt, black Dickies pants, black shoes, and dark shades.  White girl with blond hair up in a bun-pony tail type thing.  Short strands of hair at the bottom oh her hairline as if she accidentally, gradually shed them by running her fingers through her hair.  She took a windshield wiper and I remembered to do the same.  Unlike me, she meticulously kept her wipers up while she wiped her windshield.  I kept staring at her and pulled a Borat for a bit by digging my hand deep into my pocket.  Then, as Cameron said to John in the second season finale of Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles, it was "time to go."  I even waited until my gas meter rose to the top before turning on the radio to my Kelly Clarkson CD, turning on the windshield wipers, and pulling away slowly - prolonging the moment - with the chick in my rear view mirror.

Anyway, cousin Andree came back from the Philippines.  Mommy treated us with the 'lil cousins, Janine and Jillian, to A-Float Sushi in Pasadena.  We were there to meet Andree's cousin (from her dad's side) Louie and his wife and 'lil son.  I haven't seen Louie since I was 13.  He's gotten fat.  His wife's Chinese and speaks with an accent.  Louie's family doesn't like her because they think she's a gold digger.  Andree doesn't like her because she speaks to her son in Chinese, but he doesn't understand any Tagalog, as if she's trying to take over.

Just watching Grease on VH1 right now.  This is probably my favorite musical ever.  

Brian's The Foot Fist Way DVD is funny.  I gotta show this to people.

Beautiful Disaster

I rocked out pretty well during guitar practice yesterday, warming up with Study in E Major and finishing with Etude in F Major.  'Lil Ryan, with his mom, came in after me as always.  Their whole family saw me after I got out of the Renaissance Faire last month, still in semi-wardrobe.  'Lil Ryan's mom has not let it down.  I had to put up with all their teasing, all in good fun.

I picked up these methodology papers from Dave that I can use to write one of my essays for Guro.  Dave asked me to hug him "like I hugged those lesbians" last New Year's Eve.  What a humor.

*****

I visited Brian Coffin (a.k.a. my homeboy from GNC - not to be confused with my roommate whom I went to Vegas with) today at the GNC.  I had to explain to this regular loiterer, Manual, the "causal loop" theory of Terminator.  He had a good point, though, that the philosophies of Terminator and The Matrix trilogy are related.  But I can't believe this poser was trying to downplay the weight that I bench press when witnesses say that he can't even do more than 25 lbs on each side.  Brian then let me borrow a Tae Kwon Do comedy called The Foot Fist Way.

I was about 30 minutes late to Capoeira.  I lost track of time watching youtube videos of Kelly Clarkson singing Beautiful Disaster.  I like to think that she's singing about me in that song.  Kevin called me while I was watching.  He likes how I think of KC as my future baby's mama.

We're finally starting to learn aerials in Capoeira ... er ... the more advanced students actually.  I'm still in the remedial class.  A new student named Certel - I'm really not sure how it's spelled - who wrestles taught me how to shoot in properly today in Capoeira.  

I visited Brian again at the GNC afterward.  A security guard named Ken was there.  I actually roundhoused him the fuck out back in my high school days.  But hopefully he doesn't recognize me.  I told Brian the story after he left.  Brian laughed and said that I "Cro-Cop'd him," in reference to UFC Fighter Marco "Cro Cop" Filipovic who has devastating knock out roundhouses.

At the mall, I saw an old co-worker named Alicia who I used to jack off to.  She has a kid now, which she didn't yet back then.  It occurred to me, what's up with every girl that I've had a crush on being married and/or having kids or STILL having the same boyfriend despite me waiting in the wings for so long (sometimes years)?

I gotta watch this Foot Fist Way DVD now.

Sleeping time

I'm probably gonna be training with Guro for another month at most before I take a hiatus.  I woke up early today because we were supposed to train at 11AM.  He tried to reschedule - (sarcasm) big surprise - again at a later time.  I had to cancel.  After missing Capoeira all of last week, and that feels so wrong, there was no way I was missing it today.

I did horrible in Capoeira today.  I have no idea why I was off.  Oh, and I found out for the first time that Andres has a 12-year-old son.  I think Andres is only about 31 years old.

My mom called me at 7PM to say that my 'lil cousin Jillian graduated from grade school and was having an impromptu party.  I finally publicly debuted my Twilight shirt, this time without a sweater over it the whole time.

I gotta visit Dave tomorrow as he has papers for me about teacher methodology that can help me on one of my essays for Guro.

How many touchdowns?

I have no idea about Basketball, but apparently there was a big victory and some mini-riots in the streets to celebrate the Lakers.

I kept referring to those events of the ball going through the basket as a "touchdown" that eventually it just stuck whenever Tiwat tries to have a conversation with me about Basketball.

Masa called me.  He got an email from Hiro saying that he's returning in August.

Masa:  The Lakers won!

Ryan (me):  By how many touchdowns?

Masa:  This is Basketball!

Ryan:  By how many homeruns?

Masa:  Oh my God ...

My mom, who surprisingly follows Basketball, was in such a good mood that we went to eat at Cheesecake Factory.  I wanted to eat at Red Robin, though, because I noticed that an employee whom I have a crush on works there on Sunday nights.  

On a random note, Veronica, who is a half Filipina-half Black chick that I used to know from early childhood, works at Cheesecake Factory.  Not really my type, but, oh well, I'd hit it.

Snap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity

I spent the night switching channels between Kill Bill and The Dark Knight.  I noticed Spike TV was having a David Carradine movie marathon.  I just remembered that Carradine died the night before I left for Vegas last week.  He was found having accidentally suffocated himself with rope around his genitals, or some shit like that, which was later complemented by his ex-wives' confirmations that he had a kinky side.  What a way to go.

If you don't like me, you don't have to be around me

I used yesterday as a catch-up blog.  Nothing eventful happened yesterday except that Guro and I kicked each other's ass, unloading pent up frustration on the other.  Consequently, I had to pass up on Capoeira.  Lately, training with Guro has been on Thursdays, so training yesterday meant that today was my day-off.

I went to the AMC and paid to see Angels and Demons at 1:40PM.  Afterward, I snuck into Dance Flick at 3:30, Star Trek 4:45, and The Hanogover at 7:10.  4 movies for the price of 1! The Hangover was déjà vu of our Vegas trip.  And I can't believe that the Wayans Brothers even parodied Twilight in their Dance Flick.

Most importantly, Max Simon Peter Huber died today 8 years ago. 

Pause.  Who's Max Simon Peter Huber?  He was my classmate in Shaolin Tae Kwon Do.  He taught me to Break-Dance (a.k.a. break, a.k.a. Bboy).  The first time I saw Max was at the Pioneer Farewell Dance at the end of my freshmen year at Providence High School, a month before I would even sign up at our Martial Arts school.  He was noticeable because of his huge fro despite the fact that he was Caucasian.  He was a guest from Hoover high school and out-battling Thomas Dang (the guy I wanted to be throughout high school) and Michael Iguidez.  (BTW, I saw Tommy for the first time in maybe years at the 24 Hour Gym last Monday or Tuesday night.)  Max agreed to teach me to Break-Dance as long as I promised to practice everyday.  My biggest regret is not keeping that promise.

Before I went to the AMC, I made sure to stop by Forest Lawn - ironically the same place where my high school's graduations are held - to visit Max.  I remember at his eulogy, one of his friends said, "Max always used to say, 'If you don't like me, you don't have to be around me.'"

I've had 10 near-death experiences in this car today

Brian emailed me all the pics that he took. These are the ones with me in it, or just my personal favorite for some other reason, along with my commentary:

The wait outside of club Tryst was about 2-3 hours.  We paid some employee to immediately walk us to the front.  Everybody was giving us dirty looks as we bypassed their wait by walking through them, looking fly, and entered Tryst.  That's me in the foreground of the pic.

Left to right: Moss (the other Ryan), Alex, Brian, James, and Ryan (me).  This is our only pic of the full crew besides the crab dinner pic later because Moss kept became missing every night.

I don't remember taking this pic.  But there's a good shot of the Newcastle beer.

I don't remember this either.  But there's the Newcastle again.

I'm not in this pic, but that's a girl that Brian liked and I just thought that she could pass as jack-off-able.

Moss came back to the hotel the next morning and greeted us, "What's up, bitches!'

James:  You need some sleep.

Moss:  Sleep can kiss my ass.  I'll sleep when I die.  You guys don't know how to party!"

Less than a minute later ...

... Moss knocked out and wouldn't wake up until late afternoon.

We spent everyday hanging out at the pool at MGM.  An MGM key card is required, but we inverted our Venetian card to fool those in charge of admittance.

That's Alex talking to an older woman.  She turned out to be in her 30s.  Gosh, 30-something-year-olds don't look so old these days.  I'm not in this pic, but that is one jack-off-able 30-something-year-old.

These are a couple of the chicks from the bachelorette party that we met at the pool and were down to come out with us to TAO.  No, I don't remember taking this pic.  No, I don't remember any of their names except for Jeanette (see previous blog).

This is the next day at the pool.  This time, we met a Birthday party celebrating a chick's 21st Birthday.  Those chicks were wasted.

That's Brian carrying some chick that he likes.

Group pic.  The lifeguards were haters as they were jealous of us guys because we were getting all the attention.  They were looking for reasons to kick everyone out.  The Birthday girl was so trashed that she almost got us kicked out by complaining to the lifeguards about their hater attitude.  And she accidentally knocked her homegirls' drinks into the pool because she couldn't walk straight.

That's us, Werewolf status (it's a Twilight reference)!

Brian became the butt of jokes as he was always hitting up the "dinosaurs" according to Alex.  One dinosaur took the pic and her dinosaur friend managed to sneak herself into the pic as you can see between Alex and Brian.

And those $50 crabs were worth it.

The next day, Moss was missing.  We debated jacking his car, but he showed up after we checked out.  Apparently he woke up at a strip club and had cocaine on the side of his ear.  

I drove the second half of the way.  Everyone was nervous about my driving.  I explained to them that my driving teacher conducted our lessons in Chinese and I don't speak Chinese.

Brian:  I've had 10 near-death experiences in this car today.

Listening to nothing but Eminem on the way home was euphoric.

Why is he naked?

I rolled up to Las Vegas with my college roommate Brian (Fall '04 - Spring '05), his military buddy James, his neighbor Alex, and his marijuana-addicted frat brother Ryan (I'll call him by his last name, Moss, to avoid confusion with me). Our room was 11-634 in the Venezia Tower of the Venetian Hotel. Fuck that. It was a maze to get there. We couldn't even find the room while sober. It required finding the correct tower, then taking the elevator to some lobby, from there looking for another lobby, and then another elevator to our floor.


That's our sink full of beer in ice.


That's our vodka in our trash can full of ice.


That's our table of beer.


That's me posing with our table of beer and vodka.


I don't remember taking this picture. But that's a good shot of the Newcastle.


We met these chicks, a bachelorette party actually, when we were strutting our bodies by the pool, Werewolf status (that's a Twilight reference). They were down to come out with us later to TAO. I don't know why, but Moss wanted to get a V.I.P. table. That's our V.I.P. table. I just remember the bride-to-be putting her legs up on me.

I don't remember taking this pic. This chick Jeanette was cool. I don't remember the exact title of her job, but it was described as when a new park opens up, she's the one who gets called.  She was the oldest of her pack and considered herself "the mother hen."


Another pic with Jeanette I guess. I should really think about her while masturbating.

I don't remember how I got back to my room. I have a glimpse of peeing on someone's door, though, when I was in a random hallway in the wrong tower, obviously lost. I woke up at, I'm guessing, around 3AM to go take a piss. I walked through the double doors of our bathroom ... and found Alex sleeping naked in the bathtub. My catch phrase for the remainder of the trip was, "Why is he naked?"


We were minding our own business when our neighbor Maggie randomly walked into our room because we had music blasting. She had a roommate named Veronica.


Personally, I wanted Veronica. She even kept telling me how cute I was and kissing me on the cheek. But she wanted Alex more. Oh well. Beggars can't be choosers. Plus, Maggie wanted me and she was cute anyway. Meanwhile, Brian, James and Moss were at the club XS in the hotel Encore.


I'm not sure if Veronica was wearing any underwear.

Anyway, Maggie turned out to be bi-polar.  She was into me, she disliked me, into me again, disliked me again, and so on.  My thoughts are italicized (thank God I didn't say them out loud):

Maggie:  I have no family.  My parents are gone.  My dad died when I was 2.

Me:  Why is she a downer?

Maggie:  My ex was hanging out with his ex-girlfriends right in front of me.  I took care of him while he was in the hospital and he never told me when he was released.  Blah, blah, blah ...

Me:  She must have really low self esteem.

Maggie:  I'm old.  I have kids.  But I did have an abortion.

Me:  This is such a turn-off.

Maggie:  Whoa, that guy reminded me of my other old boyfriend, Johnny.  He was a good friend.

Me:  Is he stalking us?

Maggie:  No, Johnny wanted to die.  He's in a better place now.

Me:  Umm ... I don't think you go to Heaven for killing yourself.

Maggie:  I'm in my 30s and I don't know what to do with my life.  I work in medical billing, but I don't like it.  I just wanna be happy.

Me:  I wonder if I can still make it to Coyote Ugly before they close.

Maggie:  How many kids do you want?

Me:  Why?  Um, 3 is a lucky number, I guess.

Maggie:  3 is good.  I don't know, I think I want more kids.

Me:  Ok, we are so NOT doing it!  Oh you're still jacking me off, though, because I missed going to my favorite bar (Coyote Ugly) listening to your depressing life story.  But we are so NOT doing it.

Maggie:  I am not giving you a hand job!

5 minutes later, her hands were down my pants ...

Definitely a step up from my hitting up high school chicks.


Then I was hungry.  Her bi-polarness kicked in one last time when she finished feeding me fries, gave me half a bottle of Jack Daniels and kicked me out of her room.  But at least I got some.

The Aftermath:  Alex found out Veronica was 30-something-years old with kids.  Veronica accidentally spilled her red wine all over the Roulette table.  All the players left, thinking it was cursed with bad luck, and the dealers were pissed.  After 5 glasses of red wine, she drank some Irish Bailey's and Alex immediately took her to her room so that he wouldn't have to clean up any resulting vomit.

Alex:  What time's your flight?

Veronica:  7:00.

Alex:  It's 5:00 right now!

The Hook-Ups from Hell

I'm back from Vegas.  I'll talk about this later.  I need to pass out.  I don't remember the last time I went to sleep this early.

Vegas, baby! Vegas!

Thunder today.  Like, double-you-tee-ef?  I never heard back from Guro David, or just Guro for short, my Filipino Martial Arts (FMA) instructor, about training today.  I attended Capoeira training instead.  I was so off today.  I couldn't shoot in to take down who I was supposed to, I got taken down and I couldn't memorize combinations.

I should go to bed now.  I get to go to Las Vegas tomorrow with my former roommate, Brian, from my '04-'05 school year at California State University, Northridge (CSUN).  I'll be back (God I love saying that!) on Sunday.

Study in E Major

Today - as in Tuesday since I don't consider a day as over until I wake up into the next one - was a chill day, so I can use this as a catch up entry.

Mr. and Mrs. Carlos and Michelle took me out for my Birthday on Friday, May 1.  I was forced to ride the bull.  I ended busting my lip when I flew off and face first into the bull, but the operator said I broke 10 seconds.

We met an off-duty stripper who showed us her nipples.  I don't remember taking this picture, but apparently I did.

That night, Carlos and Michelle began a mission to "get me laid."  I thought that mission ended when we were all sober.  Last Saturday, May 30, Michelle informed me that it's an ongoing mission.

I went to my second Renaissance Faire in Irwindale on Saturday, May 9, with my Jason-Bourne-amnesiac-wannabe buddy, Eugene, and his fiance, Stefanie.  Not as eventful as last year.  The people's energy was off.  We didn't have much of a group.  The buffet was discontinued.  Not enough debauchery.  Most importantly, my lady Olivia was not there.  She worked at the buffet last year where she passionately grabbed my face to help me press it deeper into her corset-enhanced breasts.

At least there were still Renaissance chicks, like ones with purple hair.  I guess I still had beer goggles when I got home because I ended up looking at my pictures and "busting out a #3" (ask me if you don't know what that means).

Plus, Eugene got his ass kicked in Fencing after showing off too much.  That's always fun.

I went to my first Steam Punk ball on Thursday, May 14.

Chicks eating fire were cool.

There was one chick with long hair who could've been cute if only the side of her head wasn't shaved.  But with more alcohol in me, she started getting hotter.

My highlight was a bar that served absinthe.  I swear I saw Tinkerbell.

It was fun seeing Michael, Trevor and Richard again since high school for Richard's graduation on Tuesday, May 19.