+1 to Chick Magnetism

Just when I thought I was halfway through that eight-page Paco de Pena song En Las Cuevas in guitar practice, I just noticed something for the first time on the first page ... And I now have to reprogram a month's worth of how I've been playing the first page. The proverbial, "F.M.L." as kids like to say.

Afterward, I hit up the neighboring city's mall as new territory to walk around in while carrying my guitar as a chick magnet. I walked straight into the Hot Topic, hoping that the fellow [Harry]Potterhead was working. Bad news: She wasn't. Good news: Leah, whom I haven't seen since 6/24/11, looked up and greeted me the standard store greeting.

Pause. Review: Leah was the substitute in the database for Georgia, who in turn was the substitute in the database for Jazz. Nataly used to check her out. (Yes, my friend, who's a girl, was checking her out.) I noticed she was gone from the Hot Topic that I frequent, but I didn't know she only transferred. Now I wonder if Georgia and the manager, both of whom I haven't seen in a while either, transferred as well.

Shipments of CM Punk's new shirt finally arrived in all sizes! I asked Leah if I could use the fitting room.

LEAH: How'd it go? [Two dorky thumbs up, white girl style.]
RYAN: Oh, I like it. It ... fits well.
LEAH: [Laughs.] "It fits well"?

Johnny and his friends referred to Leah as the "stuck up chick" because "nobody can get her." So her speaking to me was a big deal. It's, like, verbal sex! And when I left, she said goodbye. Like a video game of the role playing game (RPG) genre, the phrase "+1 to Chick Magnetism" blinked above my head in a Scott Pilgrim vs the World sort of way!

I ended the night with WWE Smackdown, fired up the porn, and busted a #3 to Leah.

♫ And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh ♪ Like baby, baby, baby, no ♬ Like baby, baby, baby, oh ...

Danny was working the front desk at the gym last night. Iam and then Victor stopped by to work out. I don't think we've all been in the gym together since last 4th of July. (See entry 7/4/11.)

IAM: I just got here. You?
RYAN: I'm almost done.
IAM: Nah! One more hour if you wanna look like this! [Flexes both biceps.]

Victor's mullet is long enough for him to tie into a short pony tail now. I did calisthenics and bicep curls as planned, but added impromptu tricep presses after seeing Iam - keep in mind he's the biggest one can possibly get without steroids - before going home for bed.

Whoa. Some trippy dreams last night:

1) I was in some sort of building. Random people I know in real life were there. There was discussion for some event entitled Island-of-something that I mistook as something from a Final Fantasy video game, but turned out to be a children versus adults competition. Outdoors, it seemed like I had been inside some school with a fence of blue bars. The sky turned from night to day in seconds as I walked down a driveway and the background transformed into a rural house. I had to call an ambulance for someone and remained calm until my old FMA instructor showed up in his real life maroon car and then I told the operator to have the cops hurry up. My old FMA instructor, speaking more fictitiously urban, blamed me for him no longer having enough money to pay his rent.

2) I was in a hotel. The mission was to carry Steve's body as he needed brain surgery. Someone - the memory is blurred, but probably Arthur as he's Steve's cousin - was with me. We were in an elevator, which tumbled. The doors opened and people decided against entering when they saw us laid out on the floor.

End of trippy dreams.

I had a chill day of guitar practice, watching The Green Hornet, more guitar practice, and even busted a #3 to fellow [Harry]Potterhead Ally out of boredom.

Mommy and I ate dinner at Thai BBQ.

At the Americana, there was filming going on for some show called Mobbed featuring a cover of Katy Perry's Firework. At Barnes & Noble, I got some leisure reading done on a story about True Blood's Alexander Skarsgård in Men's Journal.

Just finishing the night organizing my laptop, folding clothes, a midnight snack of fried egg (because it accidentally broke while trying to put it into the egg holders as it got stuck to the carton), and now more guitar practice. (Drew Ryniewicz's cover) ♫ And I was like baby, baby, baby, oh ♪ Like baby, baby, baby, no ♬ Like baby, baby, baby, oh ...

In the parking lot

Internet problems at home. I'm sitting in the parking lot accessing the internet through my phone. Holy technology, Batman!

I busted a #3 to the chick who helps serve Communion at the afternoon mass in Church.

At the mall, the Adelle-look-alike was working at the "i Play & Talk" vendor booth. Actually, I like her better than Adelle. Some small chick was telling her something that made her grin as she leaned on her booth, the type of lean when one thinks that one's cool. She has a nice grin, though, with a little teeth. That grin is in my database.

That jackoffable chick who works at the Waba Teriyaki Grill was working, but she hasn't been as jackoffable ever since dying her blond hair to dark brown. The blond was just best with her complexion. Oh, well, I guess she's still in the database in case of boredom.

I'm about to step into the gym to get my Spartacus on, on werewolf on - depending on which circle of friends I'm talking to.

Isolation exercises + Breakin' + Steaks and Lobsters = Today was a good day

The treadmill at the gym says I burned 380.8 calories at a distance of 3.17 miles. I think. But it could just be a ballpark figure.

I fired up the porn. Darn false advertisement. I finally tracked down this video that claims to be of a chick crying after candidly getting dumped after trying anal sex for the first time. There was no such thing! And then this other video looked cool ... until it started buffering and revealed to be 72 minutes long. The proverbial "F.M.L!" as kids like to say. I don't have that kind of time.

I was leisurely busting a #3 to the chick who helps serve Communion at Church when I suddenly remembered I had to leave early to pick up the one who insists to be code named "Choir Boy" as we both return to Millennium Dance Complex.

After insisting that I don't do parking meters, I ended up parking behind Eric, who was the substitute teacher for Top Rocking class at Debbie Reynolds studio last Saturday, and whom I've been insisting is better than the regular Top Rocking teacher. The reason for our return to Millennium Dance Complex: Jolee, who was the substitute teacher for Top Rocking two Saturdays ago, had mentioned he was substituting for B-Girl Shorty's Breakin' class. (See entry 9/17/11.)

Pause. Review: I started out at B-Girl Shorty's classes until I realized she was teaching the beginner class as if it was an intermediate class. So that's when I ended up at Debbie Reynolds after Rez, my homeboy from high school, mentioned the Top Rocking class there, Top Rocking being the foundation of Breakin.'

Class went really well. We were in the room that "Choir Boy" used to teach in back when he was a teacher. Only one problem: I think a lot of us were camera shy. But Jolee explained his cameraman was a one time only thing as he's trying to put his reel together.

RYAN: How long are you subbing for?
JOLEE: Until [B-Girl Shorty] gets back.
RYAN: When's that?
JOLEE: Hopefully never.

Niels, our new friend from last Saturday, showed up later. He's taking three Hip Hop classes in a row. Crazy. And then "Choir Boy" saw his ex-girlfriend. He introduced me as his Filipino Martial Arts (FMA) instructor. I'm proud of him because she's a white, blond cougar lady. Wolfpack minds think alike. That reminds me I should check in with Heather's 39-year-old sister, Naomi, sometime.

I went home to watch Glee. Mommy cooked sweet potatoes, spinach, steaks, and lobsters for dinner. And then "Choir Boy" texted me that he was at the LAVC gym and so was Alex Meraz, best known as werewolf Paul from Twilight.

"CHOIR BOY": I shook his hand.
RYAN: Don't wash your hand until the next time I see you. So then I can tell everyone that I shook the hand that shook Alex's hand.

A Real Hero

I had a couple of weird dreams last night. 1) Shane Mcmahon, who in real life was part owner of the WWE until he walked out on it, arrived to a WWE arena and got jumped by some of the locker room. Retired pro-wrestler Pat Patterson jumped in to save him and he got jumped as well. Repeat. The locker room was now divided. A bloodied Shane got on his phone in the parking lot. "Mean Street Posse?" I asked him. "Yup!" he confirmed. Former pro-wrestler Rodney came running in. But there was no former pro-wrestler Pete Gas. Rather, just a dozen new members, either of African or Caucasian descent. I high-fived each of them as they joined the fray. But Shane accidentally Superman-punched Rodney, disintegrating him in a Scott Pilgrim vs. The World sort of way. 2) I had to do an errand for drummer Paul. I visited some sort of store, probably a car garage, and maybe in a mall. End of dreams.

I had a great couple of hours at the gym doing isolation exercises.

I busted a #3 to the server from the wedding yesterday. (See entry 9/25/11.)

At the mall, in a continuation of a subplot from 9/23/11 I did some reconnaissance outside American Basics. I've confirmed that the chick I've suspected of being Jessica is indeed her. She's back in the database.

Lolo Manning saw me as he was walking home. I walked with him halfway.

My former coworker Helen was working at Latin Lingo. We did our routine of waving at each other. She's renewed in the database.

Mommy and I ate dinner at Rubios. The manager Robert and the jackoffable chick Lizet were working. I think Lizet got a permanent in her hair. It looks nice. She's renewed in the database. Other cashiers Fredy and Olivia weren't working, but Fredy stopped by to eat and Olivia came to visit. Olivia's the one who checks me out. She didn't have as much acne today. Lizet was cleaning the restrooms as Olivia banged on the door to ask her if she wanted anything from Panda Express. Cute.

I came home for WWE RAW.

It's been a few days now and the soundtrack from Drive is still stuck in my head. Therefore, it is dope:

Cousin Kathy's Wedding Day

You know what's awesome? Taking a shower before going to bed last night so that I could sleep in and wake up to mommy stressfully getting ready for the wedding, leisurely start dressing up myself, and still be done before her! I got to bust out the good ol' tuxedo again as I watched cousin Kathy marry now-cousin-in-law Charlie at the Porter Ranch Country Club.

The white chick working at the front desk had shoulder-length blond hair - some parts blonder, though not necessarily bottle blond - and a smile that vaguely resembled that of a chick named Alison (not to be confused with raver Allison, with two L's, from Palmdale), who in turn had sex with all of my roommates during my sophomore year ... in one night. Although, this front desk chick was a prettier version. She's in my database.

The fruits, bread and butter, potatoes, green veggies, and cake were aight. But the filet mignet, champagne punch, and champagne were dope. I can also finally spell hors d'oeuvres. Those were dope too.

The server was this Latina chick with dark hair, parted at the side, pulled back into a bun. She had big hoop earrings and a nice smile. Her face is a cross between my high school classmate Brandy and my old raver buddy Lorena. She's in the database.

Mommy, lolo Manning and I went to Church in the afternoon. The jackoffable chick who helps serve Communion was there. I just noticed her breasts jiggle when she walks fast or down a few steps. But she is a little thick, so it could just be body fat that fell in the right places. She's renewed in the database.

We had dinner at In-N-Out. A random kid gave me props for my Bon Temps Football (True Blood) shirt. I also passed by Ortiz at the stairwell, the former security guard at the Glendale Marketplace who used to get written up for hygiene problems, with strong fumes of cologne trailing after him. Ha.

Circle!

JACOB (Ryan Gosling): How many women have you been with?
CAL (Steve Carrel): Sexually?
JACOB: No, breakdance fighting.
- Crazy, Stupid, Love

I slept in and missed the dressed rehearsal for cousin Kathy and soon-to-be-cousin-in-law Charlie's wedding tomorrow. But I stopped by the reception afterwards to eat before Top Rockin' class. Then I picked up the one who insists on being code named "Choir Boy."

The substitute teacher for the class was Eric, the guy whom I've been insisting is better than the regular teacher. Yes! And we ended class with - not necessarily a battle, or breakdance fighting, but - a non combative circle! My freestyle was basically top rocking, Capoeira in the middle, culminating into an air chair.

At the lounge, "Choir Boy" and I spoke to a guy who was in Top Rocking class today named Niels. He's from Amsterdam. He didn't have much of an accent that "Choir Boy" wondered if there was an Amsterdam in the US. It turns out there is in New York. (On that note: Brooklyn and Harlem are named after foreign cities as well.) Niels said one could drive from one side of Holland to the other in a couple of hours. Anyway, he's our new friend.

"Choir Boy" and I hit up Target afterward, the one that's next to the park where Jon, Carlomar, and Ralph relocated FMA practice for a while. I remember wannabe gangsters would actually walk out of our way when they saw us swinging and joint-locking with sticks. "Choir Boy" finally bought Never Back Down 2.

No, I can't remember everything I drank throughout the day. But there was some sake and berry juice involved. We hit up Sanam for dinner, my first time being there since 6/9/10. I forfeited my tradition of Thai iced tea because I was still liquored up.

I bought these pumpkin white chocolate chip cookies at Ralph's for dessert as we watched the first half of Transporter 3.

So good hearing from two of la familia

I know this is starting to get repetitive saying this every Friday, but since it is eight pages after all: That Paco de Pena song En Las Cuevas is coming along at guitar practice ... even if I have been stuck on the third page for the last couple of weeks. This week, I start on the fourth page.

I carried my guitar around the mall with me as a chick magnet. Dana was working at Lush Cosmetics. She's renewed in the database.

At Hot Topic, I avoided eye contact with my stalker. Although, admittedly, I didn't spot her until I walked inside. But I was able to put the earphones on to listen to music at the music station, which translated to: Don't annoy me. But I could feel her gaze undressing me as I listened to the new Tech N9ne and Bad Meets Evil albums.

There's this store called American Basics, which I've long suspected could just be a re-branding of the now defunct store Body Basic. (See entry 5/11/11.) As I walked by, I'm not sure, but I think I saw this chick named Jessica, whom I haven't seen since 4/18/11. She worked at the Halloween store last year and when she coincidentally ended up working at Body Basic months later, I thought it was a sign that I should bust a #3 to her. I'll have to confirm the identity later.

Mommy found her phone, which had been missing all of yesterday. She dropped it in the garage. She has the night off from work due to the rehearsal for cousin Kathy's wedding tomorrow. But as soon as she left for the gym and to pick up dry cleaning, I had the house to myself ...

I was firing up the porn when Michelle in Nebraska text-messaged me ...

MICHELLE: Dude! We're having dinner and Kelly Clarkson's Since You Been Gone is on ... miss you!

As I busted a #3 to the afformentioned Jessica, John Mayer's Daughters started playing on the radio.

Afterward, I got back to Michelle ...

RYAN: It makes me feel all warm and tingly that you all think of me whenever Kelly Clarkson comes on. Likewise, John Mayer was just playing on the radio.

After WWE Smackdown I met up with mommy at In-N-Out for dinner. Her deaf coworker was sitting across from us with his posse, all of them doing these animated hand gestures.

MOMMY: They're really good at sign language.
RYAN: I thought it was Tourette's [Syndrome].
MOMMY: Shhh!

I got an email from Matt who's studying abroad in Tokyo, Japan:

Ever had to carry a blackout drunk girl through a crowded train station at 12:30 at night? The stares you get from Japanese people are quite amusing ...

It was so good to hear from a couple from the familia. (Sigh.)

My endurance is back to 4 movies at a time

I got the grownup stuff of buying water at Costco and new contact lenses solution at Ralph's done before beginning my afternoon. Every time I pass through Matt's street as a shortcut to Costco, it's like the series finale of The OC where the protagonist Ryan Atwood (Benjamin McKenzie) - who has the same name as me - sees the ghost of Marissa Cooper (Mischa Barton) as he drives away from her house. Except it was Matt's ghost instead of Marissa Cooper's, and Matt's not dead. But you know what I mean.

For the first time since I-don't-know-when, I managed FOUR movies today! I paid to see Drive at 3:20PM, and then snuck into The Lion King in 3D at 5:05PM, The Help at 6:40PM, and Colombiana at 9:05PM.

For The Lion King in 3D, I utilized the special 3D glasses that I received to watch the midnight premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in 3D back in July. (See entry 7/15/11.)

In Colombiana, when Zoe Saldana's nipples can be seen through a thin shirt, I looked around to make sure no one was watching before discretely reaching down for a brief and subtle victory yoink.

That awkward moment when your at a rock band's soundcheck and a kid is huffing freon right next to you

The treadmill says I burned 300-something calories over a distance of 3.13 miles, but that could just be a ball park figure.

Heather only just found out on tonight's news that kids are huffing freon to get a quick high. But to me, who works part time for rock bands, that's old news.

Return of the Gleek (in me)

I went to the gym today for compound exercises.

I busted a #3 to that Adelle look-alike who works at the "i Play & Talk" vendor booth.

And then while Facebooking, I found out that tonight was finally the third season premiere of Glee! (Good looking out, Patty.)

And after a summer vacation of waiting ... I felt the episode was sort of under-whelming. Boo.

I treated rapper/actor Common as if he was common. Get it?

I busted a #3 to that balloon-making chick from Outback Steakhouse yesterday who vaguely resembles Amanda Seyfried. (See entry 9/18/11.)

At Barnes & Noble, there was a crowd gathered for an event. I lucked out sitting in one of those comfy chairs. Security guards were clearing everyone out on the second floor unless seated in chairs to read. And then the special guest whom everyone was lined up to see arrived for his book-signing. Sitting in front of me was a kind of thick, Latina chick with long, black hair who looked beer-goggles-aight.

RYAN: (Referring to special guest) Who is that?
LATINA CHICK: Common.

So I got to look really cool by being the only one not star-struck as I read both Fortune and Forbes magazine - I guess the business side of me was surfacing today - while Common did his book signing not too far away from me and everyone was lined up around me to metaphorically suck his genitals.

Hilarious moment: When Common was leaving, this one black dude who was all dressed up, but had dreadlocks that only negated his attempt to look dapper, was screaming at him, "You gotta holla at me, man!"

And then the security guard whom I actually am acquainted with escorted Common down the elevator into a secret basement. I did one last database run around the mall. The Adelle look-alike was working at the "i Play & Talk" vendor booth. She actually fixed her hair today. She's renewed in my database. And then I ended the night at home with WWE RAW.

"That's got to be the worst role model since 'Sweep the leg.'"

Continued ...

After the one code-named "G" left last night, the one code-named "Super A" arrived. She greeted me by pinching my nipple since I was already really buzzed. Then I showed her some basic B-Boyin' floorwork. The one code-named "Choir Boy" popped inThe Hangover DVD.

I woke up today and went straight to the gym for calisthenics.

At the afternoon mass in Church, the jackoffable chick who helps serve Communion was there. She's renewed in my database. I always stare deeply into her eyes as she says to me, "Body of Christ." In a hypothetical situation, it's like she'd be saying that to my abdominal muscles, since I imagine in real life Jesus must've been ripped.

At the mall, the Adele look-alike was working at the "i Play & Talk" vendor booth. I had stopped mentioning her to avoid repetitiveness since she was there almost everyday. But today it's worth mentioning since I haven't seen her in a week. Her once regular brown hair is now darker brown. She's renewed in my database.

The jackoffable white chick at Waba Teriyaki Grill dyed her hair dark brown. Yuck. The blond hair went well with her complexion. I wouldn't even have recognized her if it weren't for the star tattoos on her front shoulders. Oh well, I guess I'd still hit it.

Mommy and I ate dinner at Outback Steakhouse. The hostess, who resembles that one pornstar whose name I've been too lazy to look up, was there today. She looked so in charge while training a new employee. As I walked by her, I made sure no one was looking and discretely started drive-by jerking. And then when mommy and I were seated, the hostess brought us menus saying, "I'm sorry they didn't bring you any menus." She exchanged words with me! That's, like, verbal sex!

Mommy's favorite waitress, Lindsay, was working as well. The jagged cuts in her hair blend better now. And it's blonder rather than redder. She's renewed in my database.

There's always a chick who makes those fancy shapes out of balloons working there. But this time, holy crap, this one was actually attractive for a change. "Would you like some balloons todaaay?" she asked us in a girl scout's soliciting tone of voice where the last syllable extended and went high pitch. "You never know," she explained herself when we declined. This balloon chick resembled Amanda Seyfried, but I actually like her better than Seyfried. She's so in the database.

Afterward, mommy went home, but I went to Pinkberry to try out the new flavor: Peanut butter topped with jelly, some kind of crunchy stuff to help emulate the PB&J taste and mochi. I meant to say size "mini," but got it in the larger (paradoxically) "small." Oh well, it was good.

"You guys just missed nipples because you were too busy talking about penises!"

We had a substitute teacher named Jolee in Top Rocking class today. There were only three other students: A fat Thai guy named Bop (Americanized version of his name) and a chick named Asunta, both of whom are regulars. But the third guy is named Eric. Most importantly, Eric was the substitute teacher on my first day, whom I've been saying is better than the regular teacher.

JOLEE: Any music requests?
ERIC: (Joking) Bieber!
JOLEE: I don't think I have that one-- (Serious, disappointed in himself) Oh wait, I do ...

The ones who insist on being code-named "Choir Boy" and "G" were to check it out, but arrived late. They were watching through a creak in the back door. The redemption of being back in my element, or "all smiles" as "Choir Boy" would later put it, felt so good after last week's suicide-inducing trying out of the Lockin' class.

"Choir Boy" would then drag "G" to try Lockin' with him. Parallelism: When watching thriugh a creak in the front door, "G" was standing in the back looking depressed, exactly as I had been last week in that class.

At "Choir Boy"'s place, we watched Vanishing on 7th Street before going to eat at P.F. Chang's outside the mall of the city that neighbors my city, blasting Justin Bieber's Baby along the way. Mental note: Armin Van Buren has a song called In And Out Of Love, which "G" has on his music selection.

On the way to Hot Topic, we unexpectedly saw my local buddy, free-runner Tony. I never expected to see him there since Glendale was usually his territory, but I guess that explains why I haven't seen him in a while. Anyway, the [Harry]Potterhead was finally renewed in my database as she was working. She had noticeably red lipstick. But I told "Choir Boy" and "G" that she wasn't there to avoid them, for example, embarrassing me in front of her in case that was their intention of wanting to see her.

At P.F. Chang's, there was this really jackoffable hostess. She was a white chick, natural blond (as opposed to bottle blond) hair that parted on the left and the left side underneath it was clipped back. I think the eye liner was noticeable. She was tall for a chick, but shorter than me like pretty chicks should be; tall enough that I wouldn't have to squat so much if hypothetically having standing-up-sex with her. I got a few of her facial expressions in my database as well: the generic look, the "oh shit" look, the "oh really" look, and just a wide-eyed look. I also saw her yawning, so I know how'd she look if she was hypothetically orally-copulating me.

By the way, "Choir Boy"'s theory on dress codes in the "LA market": No one wears ties after 6:00PM during the weekend. Supposedly. Never heard that one before.

Speaking of which, a guy was wearing a tie and talking to two chicks to the side of us. I wasn't paying too much attention to the chicks as I was too busy studying the hostess. But "Choir Boy" thought the one on the left was wing-woman to the other whereas I was sure it was the other way around. The one on the left was just cute while the one on the right was trying too hard to look hot.

At a DVD rental booth, "G" and I did a good deed when two black chicks forgot the DVD they rented and we gave it to them. (Insert immature laugh regarding "we gave it to them.") We rented Never Back Down 2. Holy shit. Alex Meraz (best known as werewolf Paul from Twilight) and his Capoeira background made that movie far better than its prequel.

Line of the night: (When "Choir Boy" and "G" missed a scene with a chick's nipples because they were too busy talking about circumcisions ...)

RYAN: You guys just missed nipples because you were too busy talking about penises!

Oh, and don't expect me to remember everything I drank so far.

To Be Continued ...

Early bedtime on a Friday night

At what is code-named the Superhero meeting last night, we watched Transformers: The Dark Side of the Moon on DVD. I had white wine, sake, and some kind of IPA.

I had a few weird dreams last night: 1) Tiwat and Gabe were double-teaming a chick and I think I was video-taping it. 2) I walked in on Martin Lawrence having sex with a chick, reverse cowgirl style. Lawrence seemed bossy while the chick looked bored. I thought it was a softcore style scene at first, but then noticed it was legitimate. 3) Something about Power Rangers, the fragments of the dream I can no longer piece together. That happens sometimes. End of dreams.

That Paco de Pena song En Las Cuevas is still coming along at guitar practice. I still can't believe it's eight pages long. But I got to take home sheet music for Rod Stewart's Maggie May in case I get bored. Vahik did mention how he was doing cigarette tricks for a couple of kids the night before that "fucked [him] up" as if he was high, though wasn't. He couldn't even walk down the street to Porto's Bakery afterward.

I carried my guitar with me around the mall like a chick magnet. Faith at Brookstone was renewed in my database. She had her hair down and was rocking the glasses today.

I chilled at home for a Friday night, watching WWE Smackdown and then firing up the porn to bust a #3 to Monica from Barnes & Noble. (See entry 9/14/11.) The one who insists on being code-named "Choir Boy" came up with a solution for me to cope with last week's debacle in Lockin' class. (See entry 9/10/11.) I'm giving it a try. Speaking of which, "Choir Boy" can't believe I'm going to bed at 11:00PM on a Friday right now.

I'm reminded of how jackoffable Kathryn Hahn is

I watched Our Idiot Brother at 3:10PM and then snuck into Warrior at 4:40PM and Crazy, Stupid, Love at 7:20PM.

Crazy, Stupid, Love is the only movie in recent memory that managed to pull off twist and turns without them being able to be predicted. Warrior was almost a challenge to sneak into as I mistook it for being in an IMAX theater, but really just in a THX theater, but regardless in plain view of the staff. Kathryn Hahn is almost unrecognizable in Our Idiot Brother as a hippie complete with wannabe dreadlocks and a subtle hippie accent. I'm reminded of how jackoffable she is.

Time for another of what is to be code-named a Superhero meeting with the ones who are to be code-named "Choir Boy," "Super A," and "G."

Orally copulated at the gym?

I just remembered that maybe last week I had a dream that I was going back to Las Vegas with my old college roommate, Brian, also known as B-Dogg (not to be confused with the Brian formerly known as Brian at the GNC, nor Brian at the gym, nor Brandon's friend Brian at the PWG shows). But I can no longer remember the fragments of the dream. That happens sometimes.

The treadmill at the gym says I burned 356.3 calories at a distance of 3.07 miles over half an hour, but that could be a ballpark figure.

Anyway, the gym has the best innuendoes: Afterward, I was stretching on my back. This wavy-haired blond, white chick dressed all in black - shorts and tanktop - was also stretching, but on her knees and face down. This was purely a coincidence, but she was stretching in front of me with the top of her head pointed toward my legs that when I looked between my legs at her, it gave the illusion that she was orally copulating me! I hadn't had this much "action" in the gym since that one illusion of me and that one chick in a position that Cosmopolitan calls the "Time Bomb" while the gym played AC/DC's Shook Me All Night Long. (See entry 8/24/11.)

And Allie, who works at the front desk, is renewed in my database.

I fired up the porn and busted a #3 to that chick from the PWG shows who remarked that I'm usually at the Taco Truck during intermission at the same time as her. (See entry 9/10/11.)

At the mall, I was able to spot my stalker at Hot Topic ahead of time before she could spot me. I avoided eye contact as I walked by her, my sixth sense feeling her gaze undressing me the whole time.

At Barnes & Noble, I've been noticing this chick since last week who works at the advertising department for those electronic "Nook" whatever-they're-called things. She usually rocks the geek chick glasses. She looks like a light-skinned half-African, but then I overheard her speaking fluent Spanish. She's one of the ambiguous ones. Once she tried to gel back her short orange-brown hair and it looked weird. Finally, tonight I was able to read her name tag as she walked by while I was sitting in those comfy chairs. It's "Monica." I can now scream it out when I'm all alone.

I finally bought something, perhaps for the first time. I bought "Spark Charts" for Film Studies, Contracts and Resumes & Cover Letters. The cashier was named Anita. I think she tried to help me once before when I was looking for the hardcover of Neil Gaiman's American Gods to finish it. She's a white chick with long, dark brown hair that would've been jackoffable if only there wasn't something weird about her upper lip. Oh, well. Perhaps beer-goggles-worthy. Maybe.

Andy Whitfield inspired my half-naked Gladiator look

I just remembered sometime over the weekend, I had a dream that I was on a motorcycle, riding as if I was in a high speed chase, was warned not to turn into a street, made the illegal turn anyway, was brought to the police station, and somehow let go. Then I was flying up in some cage-looking transport, possibly carried by a hot air balloon and the environment around me magically transformed twice in a matter of seconds. I overshot the landing mark, missing this house. And I think Ron Weasley from Harry Potter was among the people to greet me. End of dream.

This is what I get for logging into Facebook only once every couple of days. I just found out Andy Whitfield lost his battle to non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Whitfield starred as the title character in Spartacus: Blood and Sand, inspiring my half-naked gladiator look for Renaissance Faire or just whenever I feel like it. Rest in peace, Spartacus.

I was doing compound exercises at the gym. I asked that new fitness manager, Jacob, what was the name of that thermogenic that contained no caffeine. It may possibly be just "Caffeine-Free Thermogenic" by the company Apex, which has never been creative in naming its products.

I fired up the porn and busted a #3 to that hostess from TGI Friday's last Sunday, who vaguely resembles a young Dawn Marie. (See entry 9/11/11.) Meanwhile, the radio was blasting Madonna's Into the Groove and it was so much fun air-thrusting to the drum beats in rhythm.

At the mall, Faith was working at Brookstone, so she's renewed in the database. My old coworker, Helen, was working at Latin Lingo. She waved. I waved back. Her hair was nicer today. She's renewed in the database.

Mommy and I ate dinner at In-N-Out.

"The Monarch of the Glen"

The treadmill at the gym says I burned 357.8 calories at a distance of 3.09 miles in approximately half an hour. That could be a ballpark figure, but oh well.

I fired up the porn and busted a #3 to that waitress Abby from TGI Friday's yesterday.

Mommy was in a hurry to watch The Miss Universe beauty pageant when Auntie Aida from the Philippines already told her the results. Apparently, the broadcast in the Philippines was ahead of the US, probably because Miss Philippines made the Top Five. So mommy and I went to eat at Rubio's.

Mommy also doesn't want me to tell anybody that she bought $40-looking shoes for only $8. Anyway, the cashier Fredy was there and so was the manager Robert. According to Fredy, who's once seen me carrying my guitar around the mall like a chick magnet, I'd be able to play Flamenco style on electric guitars after all. He had just bought a new electric guitar for his new band. Mommy and I took our food home and I was able to catch WWE RAW while she watched The Miss Universe beauty pageant anyway.

10 Years Later: 9/11

I returned to Gymnastics in the morning. I got to brush up on Thomas flairs, the gut planche, a couple of back handsprings, and a couple of windmills.

"CHOIR BOY": I think "G"'s canceling his 9/11 shindig.
RYAN: Well, that's un-American.
"CHOIR BOY": You hear that, "G"? That's un-American.

But I couldn't go anyway. I had to drive straight to Northridge for Auntie Bella's belated Birthday lunch at A&W Seafood Restaurant. Cousins Andree, Janine and Jillian were present. So was Auntie Carisse. Mommy brought my change of clothes, but I felt gangster walking in with attire sweaty from a workout. So gangster it was.

I chilled at the Northridge mall and stumbled onto this Christian clothing store called C28 that I've walked into once before. I got a cult-like vibe coming from the employees. That's a bad thing. But Switchfoot's Dare You To Move on their sound system was cool.

Then spent some time at Borders next to the mall, one of the last ones and going out of business in nine days. I saw an autobiography of Kara Dioguardi and was reminded of how jackoffable she is.

After Church, mommy treated Auntie Bella and I to TGI Friday's. I was reminded of the existence of this hostess who resembles a young Dawn Marie. (See entry 7/31/11.) She's renewed in the database.

Our waitress was named Abby and she had the most jackoffable personality that I've seen in a long time. She's a brunette. The tone of her voice was sexy while the pitch was as valley girl as possible WITHOUT being annoying. (Whereas other chicks have had the valley girl pitch to the point where I wanted to punch them in the face.) Her responses were very alert and she had a response for everything. She even jokingly screamed, "Ahh!" when she thought she would collide into a coworker. She is so in the database.

Anyway, what I was trying to say was: I had the usual Jack Daniels Burger, substituting regular fries for sweet potato fries, and a side of bleu cheese dressing. But tried some blueberry slushee. It's bullshit that refills on the slushees are no longer free, but a $0.50 up-charge.

On the way home, I stopped by Barnes & Noble and finally finished the short story "The Monarch of the Glen" in Neil Gaiman's Fragile Things, the former being a novella-sized sequel to Gaiman's American Gods.

And sorry, America, but the new 9/11 to me is dad's funeral one year ago today.

I guess Sheriff Andy Bellefleur from True Blood knows me now

I met up with the one who must be code-named "Choir Boy" at the dance studio, skipping my usual Top Rocking class to try "Lockin'" class with him. And all I can say is - and pardon- fuck "Lockin'" class. Enough said. I'm sticking to Top Rocking.

Mommy had the night off from work to go to cousin Kathy's wedding shower. I was able to talk my way out of it by having her realize it's mostly a girls' party. So ...

It was just Brandon and I at the PWG show. Seriously, where is everyone? His friend Brian (not to be confused with my college roommate, Brian, also known as B-Dogg; nor Brian formerly known as Brian at the GNC; nor Brian at the gym), whom I met two PWG shows ago joined us. Cliff from college can now be considered a regular. Brandon, Brian and I each bought a pitcher of Sam Adams Oktoberfest on tap! Mmm ...

Some random dude in the front row actually stopped me when I was walking back to my seat just to high-five me for my Taylor Swift shirt. Then the girl next to him told me, "I like your shirt."

In the restroom, there was this weird kid from Denmark ...

WEIRD KID: I'm a boxer, but I can never put on a show like that ... (slurring/mumbling) blah, blah, blah ... it's fake ... blah, blah, blah ... I'm from Denmark. And don't pretend you know where that is.
RYAN: It's in Europe.
WEIRD KID: Yes, but you didn't know it's in Scandinavia.
RYAN: Europe's a big place.

Cool moment: Chris Bauer who plays Sheriff Andy Bellefleur on HBO's True Blood was there, in disguise, but actually nodded, "What's up" to me when I was walking to the bar to refill the pitcher with more Sam Adams Oktoberfest. Then shook hands. I guess I'm cool now.

I guess that chick Shannon - who's been a regular for a long time, but only found out her name at the last show - is the only one renewed in the database. But after the show, I had the munchies and went to the Taco Truck. There's this curly, brown-haired white chick who's usually at the Taco Truck during intermission and who remarked she didn't see me there during intermission. I flat out told her I was too drunk then. But she's beer-goggles-worthy of being in the database.

That rehabilitation program of Filipino dancing prisoners actually had them do a number to Footloose

Mommy had the day off from work.

This Paco de Pena song En Las Cuevas is coming along nicely at guitar practice. I still can't believe it's eight pages, though.

Afterward, I carried my guitar around the mall like a chick magnet. Faith was working at Brookstone and thus renewed in my database. My old coworker Helen was working at Latin Lingo. We did that routine where she waves at me, I wave back as I walk by until that wall separates us, then resume waving when we see each other again through the window.

I just remembered I saw this chick named Louisa, who used to work at Spencer's during the holidays, at the Americana a couple of Fridays ago. (See entry 11/19/10.) She's an average white chick with black hair and light blue eyes. She's aight-looking, but I feel that the black hair/light blue eyes combination is rare enough that I have to bust a #3 to her to celebrate it.

Afterward, I unexpectedly just chilled at home for a Friday night. Then fired up the porn some more and busted a #3 to Allison from Palmdale.

It was actually Ciddy, not Cindy

I had a dream last night that Allison from Palmdale was working at a convenience store in the Valley. End of dream.

I think my subconsciousness is trying to remind me that Allison has started going to the Dragonfly on Thursdays for Drum & Bass night, which is what I went to with Heather's 39-year-old sister, Naomi. (See entry 7/22/11.) Speaking of which ...

I just remembered that last night while at Barnes & Noble, I saw a familiar face. But I didn't call out to her because I couldn't remember her name. It was Naomi's friend who accompanied us to the Dragonfly that night.

I was watering Alex's lawn, thinking he was coming home from Japan tomorrow when he walked outside of the house and called out to me. Thank God I wasn't singing. He actually got home last night. At first he thought I was some guy whose car he keyed last night for getting too close to his curb. He brought home two packages of mochi for my mommy and me. And he's off to Las Vegas tonight. What a life.

I watched last Sunday's episode of True Blood on HBO On Demand. I remembered I stayed up late last Sunday watching it illegally online.

I ended the night with calisthenics at the gym.

Reminder: The Plan

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with free-runner Tony. I rode with him and what looked like his family in a van to a parking lot. I was reminded that he's part white, black, and Indian, yet looks mostly Caucasian. We went to go free-run around a fictionalized version of the Americana, but I was delayed when I couldn't find my shoes and went back to Barnes & Noble to look for them. Meanwhile, he did a kong vault into a wall spin. In Barnes & Noble, high school and college classmate Patty (not to be confused with Patti), Lauren Zizes from Glee, and an anonymous third girl stopped by to say, "Hi" to me as I was sitting on the floor. End of dream.

I woke up for a 6:30 mass offered for dad for his one-year-death anniversary at Holy Family Church. Afterward, I thought I was going to maintain an early start to the day. But after mommy dropped me off at home, then went to water Alex's lawn, I fell asleep and didn't wake up until later.

On the way to the gym, at the corner of Doran and Jackson street, a black dude who somehow wore a suit jacket in this heat, asked where the nearest Ralph's is. He was on foot too. I felt like such a gangster being able to give him direction in my hood.

At the gym, I went for an hour of 5.6 mph on the treadmill, but got tired with only 15 more minutes to go and deescalated to 4.0 mph. It says I burned 606.1 calories over a distance of 5.45 miles, but that might be a ballpark figure.

Coming home from the gym, I saw the same black dude from earlier, still wearing a suit jacket in this heat, but now carrying grocery bags home. And walking. What a gangster.

Dennis - who used to work at the Glendale Red Robin, transferred to the Simi Valley Red Robin, and whom I see at the gym - has returned to the Glendale Red Robin.

DENNIS: It slowed down over there [at Simi Valley].

For dinner, mommy was too lazy to walk to In-N-Out, so volunteered to eat at Red Robin. Our waiter was Branden (again, with an "E," not to be confused with Brandon, with an "O"). Though it's off the menu, I was able to have them make me a Chili Chili Cheese Burger with garlic parmesan fries.

I think today was a reminder - besides the dream from a couple of nights ago - of my contingency plan, the reason why I befriended Branden and Dennis in the first place: To get to Jazz if she ever quit working. She has been missing.

Fragile Things

I had a dream that Eugene tried to smother me in my sleep. Carlomar was with him. I resorted to Brazilian Jujitsu to sweep him off. I rule. End of dream.

I watered Alex's lawn before doing compound exercises at the gym.

At the mall. Dana was working at Lush Cosmetics. She had braided pigtails. She's renewed in the database.

At Barnes & Noble, I started reading the short story "The Monarch of the Glen," a novella-sized sequel to American Gods, in a collection of short stories entitled Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman.

Of course it is happening inside your head ...

I had a dream that I was walking along a highway, possible because all the cars were gridlocked. I passed by a baker who remarked that he was unable to get to work, pointing at a place below the highway. I walked into said place. Inside, it was a fictional version of Red Robin. There were pictures scattered everywhere. One pic was of Jazz on the left and Dennis on the right. I think my subconsciousness is reminding me to enlist Branden and Dennis' help to get to Jazz. Anyway, dad and an anonymouse dude were there. We hung out. End of dream.

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" - Albus Dumbledore, "King's Cross," Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

We celebrated dad's one-year-death-anniversary today. I did the grownup work by buying two gallons of distilled water, a gallon of Sprite, a twenty-four-pack of diet Coke, bananas, and yellow roses at Ralph's. I did a quick database run at the mall. That one jackoffable white chick at Waba Teriyaki Grill was working. She usually is, but worth mentioning today as she looked good without that cap that's a required part of her uniform.

I was walking by that girly store called Justice that's right next to the Hot Topic when its alarm going off caused me to turn around ... and my stalker from Hot Topic, behind me, immediately swerved in the opposite direction. When I faced forward again, she was walking fast to Hot Topic, hoping I didn't see her stalking me. Furthermore, what the heck was she wearing? She had those embroidered stockings underneath her shorts and a sleeveless top. I haven't seen her dress like a streetwalker since that one time at In-N-Out. (See entry 4/10/11.)

Uncle Oca, Auntie Nora, cousin Kathy, and cousin-in-law-to-be Charlie were present at home. Cousin Mark arrived last. Mark and Uncle Oca watched some of WWE RAW with me. Food was good.

Bounce House

... Continued.

I forgot to say I had a weird dream two nights ago. The bits and pieces I remember, as dreams tend to evaporate from memory throughout the day, are this: I was in a fictional version of Barnes & Noble when someone who found me familiar called out to me. I sat next to him. I realized he was Johnny's real life best friend Andy. Then Johnny walked in with a shaved head, explaining he felt it would help him get a job easier. The rest of the boys teased him, "What job?" Leah from Hot Topic, though I think in real life she quit the store already, joined us. But I can't remember anymore what she was talking about. End of dream.

Last night, I did a quick database run at the mall. Only Faith at Brookstone was present. At Barnes & Noble, I had to improvise as the hardcover of American Gods that I had been reading was gone and I looked for a paperback of it. The dude employee helping me was cool.

DUDE: You could order it.
RYAN: I don't need it. I just have to finish it to make sure if it's good. Everyone wonders why I can't tell earlier if a book will be good. Well, that all changed with Imperial Bedrooms.
DUDE: By Brett Easton Ellis?
RYAN: Yeah, the sequel to Less Than Zero.
DUDE: I love Less Than Zero. Haven't read Imperial Bedrooms yet, though.
RYAN: Yeah, it was really good ... but then he screwed up with the ending.

And then I finally finished all five-hundred-and-twenty-one pages of American Gods. It was good. The last line may have been a bit lackluster. But it was good.

At "G"'s place, we were watching Priest starring Cam Gigandet. I got to educate them about Gigandet (TV's The OC, Never Back Down, Twilight, Easy A). Unfortunately, our attention-deficit minds couldn't finish it as viewing a clip from Naked Weapon turned into educating "Choir Boy" about porn. And since he didn't even know there was such thing as pornstars using no condoms - Hence, the code name "Choir Boy" - we had a long way to go.

Mental note: "G" is good with nunchaku, sometimes Anglicized as nunchucks, which can be bought in China Town.

Red wine was good. White wine afterward was tastier. Line of the night: "Choir Boy" says "G" is a chick's ideal relationship whereas I'm a chick's ideal one-night-stand. I guess I'm flattered. I drove him home and I went to bed at around 4 or 5AM.

I went to Church at noon for the first time in a long time. I remembered what Garry once said about the sluttiest chicks going to Church on Sundays. ("The whole 'I'll say 50 Hail Mary's and be forgiven for having two dicks in my mouth' thing is very appealing to them.") There actually were some cute chicks under the sunlight through the stained glass windows, looking like they slept in their party clothes.

I watered Alex's lawn and did a quick database run at the mall. That jackoffable meaty white chick at Waba Teriyaki Grill will have to serve as a substitute in the database. Dana was working at Lush Cosmetics as well.

Mommy and I went to Santa Barbara for my nephew Tristan's 2nd Birthday. He knows how to say, "Balloon" and "Up" now.

Highlight of the night: Adults are never too old to play in bounce houses.

Runner up (highlight of the night): Cousin Jo Ann and Cousin-in-law Amiel's friend, "Toast," whom I actually remember first meeting when I was a little kid, was trying to find a movie on HBO for the little kids to watch. He assumed Piranha 3D was a good one ... until naked chicks were everywhere AND none of us adults could find the remote! Guess where it was? I was inadvertently sitting on it!

SOME DUDE: (At me) You were too busy on your phone! (Regarding my phone's armored look) Is that even a phone? You could knock someone out with that!

CONCERNED CHICK: How did it go from E.T. to this???

Driving back from Santa Barbara, 103.5 regained frequency after about twenty five minutes, just in time for Bryan Adams' (Everything I Do) I Do It For You. And then other frequencies were meshing, resulting in a bad mash-up between Bill Withers' Lean On Me and Katy Perry's Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.). I got us back twenty minutes faster than the estimated time.

5, 6, 7, go!

The one who insists to go by the code name "Choir Boy" called me last second to pick him up when I was on my way to Top Rocking class. He took a Groove class down the hall. It was his first time in a year getting back into dancing.

After weeks of complaining to myself that the first class with the substitute teacher was still the best, I'm happy to report two cool things today: 1) We were doing a morphed variation of a salsa step. 2) A spin down into an old-school pose of going on shoulder blades as, while spilt-legged, one set of toes touches the floor.

RYAN: (In agony at first) Oh my God ...
ASIAN KID WHOSE PANT LEG READ "LOCKIN'": Are you OK?

I'm actually starting to lower my standards since there aren't really any consistent jackoffable chicks in Top Rocking. There was a chick today whom I've noticed once before. She smiled briefly as I walked in late. The left side of her hair is short as if it was once shaved while the other half is longer and with a couple of blue feathers, via extensions, that dangle behind her ear. She doesn't look too high maintenance except for eye liner. She's in the database.

"Choir Boy" and I agreed to try a Lockin' class next week. I was drinking some coffee in the lounge after class ...

RYAN: [Burps.] Oh, sorry.
"CHOIR BOY": What it wrong with you?! We've got a girl over here! (Points to some girl.)

The next was a back and forth exchange of "Choir Boy" ripping me about burping in front of girls while the girl tried to say it was OK.

We headed for Subway to split a footlong chicken sandwich. Mental note: Honey mustard and vinegar make a good combination. After a shot of honey whiskey, an impromptu FMA lesson resulted in reviewing vertical gunting (scissors) and hubad lubad (to tie and untie).

Interesting note: In "Choir Boy's" dance videos as an instructor, he counts, "5, 6, 7, go" instead of the traditional "5, 6, 7, 8."

"CHOIR BOY": If I say "8" instead of "go," they end up having a delay.

(In an enlightened sort of way) Ahhh.

I fired up the porn and just busted a #3 to that chick with the blue feathers dangling behind her ear earlier. I decided to go for an endurance practice and set a target number of strokes ... And you've got to be kidding me. I ended up accidentally finishing when I was only one more stroke away from the target number! One! Suddenly, my imagination took a mind of its own as I saw the chick laughing at me.

The one who goes by the code name "G" is having a shindig. But first, I need to finish American Gods at Barnes & Noble once and for all.

To Be Continued ...

Good news: She groped me. Bad news: She looks like she's still in high school.

I had a weird dream last night that my friends were riding in a SUV while a couple of guys and I hung onto the back of it. I think we were being chased. I carefully climbed around to the side where Judy opened the window and I swung in, Parkour style, and sat next to her and Mark's cousin Jessica. Sometime later, I was being confronted by girls, I think all of them Asian. JeAnn, Stefanie's cousin, was among them. But one of them said something to me that prompted JeAnn to defend me, I guess because in real life she had a crush on me. End of dream.

Playing Flamenco guitar is slowly starting to get easier again as my nails grow back. Same song as last time, Paco de Pena's En Las Cuevas. I can't believe it's eight pages long.

I carried my guitar around with me at the mall as a chick magnet. My stalker wasn't working at Hot Topic, which means I walked inside today. Good news: The new CM Punk shirts have arrived. Bad news: They only received them in sizes XL and larger, and inexplicably too many of them. Basic concept of supply & demand: So if enough fat people don't buy them, the store might not even bother getting them in regular sizes. Boo.

Good news: So while walking around sleeveless at the Americana, carrying my guitar, a cute chick walking with another cute chick groped me. Bad news: They looked like they're in high school.

I returned later to Barnes & Noble and was almost done reading American Gods as I had only nineteen pages left ... and cockblock! The store closed before I could.

I wasn't in a hurry to go home since WWE Smackdown aired live last Tuesday, though I have yet to catch it on Youtube. But I fired up the porn. Due to a drought in the database lately, I just busted a #3 to Allie, who works at the front desk at the gym.

Your Love

I did all calisthenics at the gym, except for a lightweight barbell to do shoulder presses. It feels great to be able to work out my abdominal muscles again now that the rug burn on my ass finally healed up. (See entry 8/30/11.)

Just when I thought I was finally getting used to it, I cut myself shaving again. And then I bought some broccoli at Ralphs, still wiping off the blood during the drive there.

Well, my streak of being able to avoid my stalker from Hot Topic was nice while it lasted. We had our first exchange since 7/5/11 around the escalators nearest In-N-Out. She shook her head at me, pretending to taunt as if I have too much time on my hands. I imitated her head-shake right back at her, but with the you-just-think-I'm-hot attitude. (Damn my confidence has really skyrocketed since my newest headshots revealed how hot I can be!) Then she walked out to the 5th floor parking lot, which I've scouted before as having a nice outdoor view.

The Adele look-alike at the "i Play & Talk" vendor booth was working today. I normally don't mention her to avoid repetitiveness since she's actually there almost everyday. But since she was the only one in the database working at the mall today, it was worth mentioning. She's renewed in the database.

I had an afternoon-evening of nerdiness as I read more pages than usual of American Gods at Barnes & Noble. Holy twist & turns, Batman! Our main character, whose real name still hasn't been revealed despite nearing the end of the novel, is revealed as the son of the Norse god Odin!

I should finally mention that I've been listening to this song almost everyday since that Star Search winner, Jake Simpson, covered it on his all-80's night concert at the Americana. (See 8/17/11.) It's The Outfield's Your Love: