Dirty Dancing

As I was driving to the gym in the butt crack of dawn earlier this week, I heard over the radio about how some Chicagoland school district canceled the remaining school dances for 2008 because of "dirty dancing." At first I chuckled, but then the radio DJ's said something about how the middle school students were bumping and grinding and showing too much skin.

It's funny, because the night before that, I was actually screwing around on YouTube, and watched a few videos. Then I came upon this funny video of three dudes lip syncing to the song, Barbie Girl. Then at the end, I got curious as to what YouTube suggested you should also watch that are related.

I was shocked to see that someone had put up a video of a fifth grade talent show! I wasn't necessarily shocked at the mere fact that someone posted this video on the Internet, but that three fifth graders were doing a dance to the Barbie Song as a talent show! I want to know who the dumb ass teacher who approved the use of this crap music, especially when the lyrics include: "You can brush my hair, undress me anywhere; imagination, life is your creation;" "Kiss me here, touch me there, hanky panky;" and "You can touch, you can play, you can say I'm always yours."

Seriously!!! As if the song wasn't crappy to begin with, it is riddled with crap lyrics, and degrading to women. And some dump ass teacher thought that the song is appropriate for use in a talent show? WTF?

So yeah, in a nutshell, I wasn't really that surprised to hear about the canceled dirty dancing. Kids nowadays are so much different than when I was in fifth grade. Or middle school...

Link to the news article about the Frankfort Park school district dirty dancing.
Link to the stupid talent show video.

Hot Steamy Shower Sex

Sometimes when I stay in a hotel with thin walls, it can be extremely disturbing when I have an eight o'clock meeting in the morning while my neighbors next door knock the uglies shortly after midnight. As if the banging of the headboard wasn't enough, sometimes I get the loud moaners. Or rarely, I'll get the businesswoman who doesn't realize exactly how loud her "partner" can be. Because of that, I've always been cognizant about the noise I produce within my own walls.

This morning, after waking up, I stumbled my way to the window with all my morning glory and opened the curtains. I stared out at the I-5 traffic, sighed at the fog that still lingered around Seattle. Then I started making my way towards the bathroom. Along the way, I stripped down my boxers without breaking a stride. And in one swift motion in mid-stride, I kicked off my boxers into the laundry bag in the closet nearby.

I looked in the mirror, as always, and let out a sigh in slight disgust at the little belly (okay, maybe not so little) staring back at me. Somehow, I always think that all my hotel rooms have defective mirrors, because in my mind, I always sport six-packs for my abs.

I turned on the shower and let it run for a few seconds till the frigid water started steaming up into a nice warm steady stream. I ran my hand through the streams, and felt ready.

I lifted my right leg into the bathtub and planted it solidly. The last thing I wanted was to slip while getting into the bathtub and cracking my head open while fully nude. Housekeeping wouldn't be pleased. When I felt I was good to go, I picked up my left foot to step completely into the shower.

But in the middle of the swing, the big toe on my left foot caught the edge of the bath tub rim, essentially tripping me. As my body lunged forward, my right knee slammed into the ceramic soap holder thingy. As pain shot up, I reached down to rub it, whereby I slammed my forehead into the marble wall of the shower. All this in a lightning-fast two seconds!

First came the loud Oh! from the toe stub. Next came the loud thump! (knee meets soap holder). Followed by another loud Ooooo!, before another bump and rattle on the wall (from the head smashing the wall). Before long, I was moaning in pain loudly.

As adrenaline rushed all over my body, I started grunting "Ugh" loudly and moaning, "Oooh God, oh God, ooooooh God!" while I leaned on my left arm while rubbing my right knee. Then the toilet in my neighbor's bathroom flushed, and I heard some giggling come across from the common air vent in the bathroom.

Damn! My neighbor probably thought I was having a hot steamy sex in the shower!!!

I Want to Ride a Slut!

Sure, you can say I am male, and therefore think of sex every six waking seconds of my life as some studies suggest. But realistically, I don't think of sex every six seconds. Maybe every eight is more accurate. ;-)

But seriously. Yesterday, when I was driving to Green Lake to squeeze in my eight mile run, I heard on the radio about the prospect of Seattleites soon having the opportunity to ride a slut. Naturally, given the fact that I'm here in Seattle, I have caught the itching bug too. But I'm not sure if my dream will ever come to fruition.

Now, before you get all worried about my health and wellbeing, I should let you know that the slut everyone wants to ride to the ground does not come with any STD's. Or at least I am crossing my fingers. But then again, the fact that you can catch genital herpes from toilet seats will give rise to the dangers associated with riding a slut.

Anyway, why might I want to ride a slut? Well, for one, sluts are easy. On top of that, not only is a slut easy, it is also convenient and good for the environment! Unfortunately for some Seattle neighborhood officials, their lack of knowledge in the urban dictionary was costly.

Still not sure what I am talking about? Read all about the neighborhood slut here. =)

Sucks to be an Asian

I'm an Asian American, and proud to be one. But there is something that bothers me once in a while for being an Asian. You see, one of my sister's former boyfriends is a semi-psychotic typical Midwestern white boy who has this fetish for Asians. He would dress like Asians as often as he can, carry an accent like Asian Americans, never mind the fact that he sounds perfectly fine with his Midwestern English, and collect anything Asian related. It is one thing to appreciate a different culture, and totally another thing when emulating it.

Or take for example one of my former R.A.s (college dormitory resident assistant) at Southwest Missouri State University. He is this short, white guy with receding hairline, from the heart of the Ozarks. Yet, he talks like an African American, acts like one, and raps on the side. Normally, this isn't all that strange or uncommon, except for the fact that he was proud to have been on the Jerry Springer show titled Blacks Trapped in a White Body. Yeah, extreme, huh?

In any case, people who have an Asian fetish kind of freaks me out. But for the most part, they don't bother me a whole lot, because it is always the white guys who are totally nuts about Asian girls. It is hardly ever white girls totally crushing on Asian guys. But living here in a city as diverse as Chicago, there is a certain twist that just bothers me a little.

I have nothing against gays, and even have gay friends. What I take issue with are guys who have an Asian fetish who happen to be gay. And typically gay guys are quite flamboyant and bold, and as such, I often get whistled at or checked out while walking to my friend Maria or Matt's place in Boystown. I definitely don't feel comfortable, and I wonder how my girl friends handle being whistled at.

I mean, should I feel proud and walk with a sway whenever a gay guy with a ripped bod check me out with a wink? After all, they typically sport the kind of body that I very much envy, yet I sport this sweet little tiny spare tire and the beginnings of boobage like a 12-year old girl starting puberty. Or should I secretly enjoy it, but keep cool? And what is it about Asian guys that attract gay guys? Is it a fetish, or simply the fact that they like tiny little, uh, cavities?

Whatever the case may be, this is the only kind of situation where I always feel a little bit uncomfortable being Asian. You would think that someone as confident and extroverted like me would still feel manly and secure about his heritage in situations like this, but I always feel a little dirty and violated whenever I get whistled at by a gay guy. And of course with the whole thing with Senator Craig, I have mysteriously developed a new fear of going into public restrooms. Thanks to him, now I have the frame of mind to freak out when the guy sitting next to me tries to cruise with me while on the crapper, or when some dude follows me into a restroom and tries to look into my stall through the crack between the partitions.

Shivers!

Food For Thought

Think of your immediate and extended family. What are your fondest memories? Who were the ones who made everything seem okay? Was it your favorite uncle? Your aunt who will let you do something when your own mom explicitly disallowed? Or was it one of your grandparents who enjoyed rubbing it in your parent's face when she overrode your mom's steadfast stand on not letting you go to a water park with your cousins because you did something naughty?

Well, of all my family members aside from those immediate ones like my sister, mom and dad, my grandparents were probably the ones who made the biggest impressions on me as a child. They don't judge, and they don't spank you even when they were angry. I suppose now as an adult, I suspect that they never spanked me possibly due to back pain or arthritis or some other physical ailment.

Just like your parents, you never ever imagined that the thought of sexual activity would ever cross their minds, right? I mean, even though I knew from previous studies that there was a tiny "epidemic" going on in America's elderly hospices (aka retirement home, elderly home, nursing home) where some of the elderly are catching sexually transmitted diseases, I still believe that old people simply don't have sex. After all, my reasoning is that old people for the most part don't have the blood pressure high enough to sustain such cardiovascular-heavy activity.

Until today.

In this week's New England Journal of Medicine, a comprehensive nationwide study led by the University of Chicago's Dr. Stacy Tessler Lindau found that seniors in their 70's and 80's in America are very sexually active!

Not exactly the kind of eye-opener I want ever in my life. Now I feel like I gotta go rent Bambi and watch that tonight. Twice.

I Screwed a Fat Chick!

Earlier today, my friend called and asked if I could go help her out. Of course, being the nice guy that I am, I gladly offered my assistance. So she came and picked me up, and we drove around.

Finally, we got to this one place, and we waited in the heat for a little bit. After a while, money was exchanged for the services requested. Then I asked her, "Do you have protection?" Her response was resoundingly instantaneous with conviction: "Of course!"

Unfortunately, it was a little small and too tight for my head. But seeing that it was all she had, I simply had to make do. Not knowing what she was like, I was quite surprised that she purred up like a little kitten just getting out of a peaceful nap. Her engine got started right away, all nice and warm without the "warming up."

Then I began to ride her. At first, I went gently. I wanted to break into her slowly, you know. But I soon realized that she didn't need any breaking in at all. Every time I turned up the heat, she reacted right away with equal amounts of exhilaration. It felt as if I had wind blowing in my hair, but my hair was just there, simply stationary.

I rode her for a while... Going fast at times, as well as going slow. I had to stop and let her catch her breath a couple times too. But when I made a fast go at it, her response was instantaneous with all the eagerness a guy could ask for. I couldn't even let anything slip by her!

Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end one way or another. After about a half hour, she slightly complained about running out of gas. But it didn't bother me, because I myself have reached my intended destination. With no serious accidents, if you know what I mean.

Then I began feeling a little down, because I had such a great time during the last half hour. My friend finally asked as she was getting up, "What did you think?"

I gave her a resounding approval. "Your moped rode just fine! They did a good job replacing the carburetor! But my hair is all messed up though, cos your helmet was way too small."

Oh, did you think I was talking about sex? No... The entire time I was riding my friend's moped back from the shop; I was hoping nobody I knew saw me riding a tiny 50 cc moped through town. But it sure was fun as all hell though!

In case you didn't get the blog title, I was making fun of the popular American joke that went like this: Screwing a fat chick is like riding a moped; it's fun to ride one until your buddies see you doing it. Of course, I don't mean to make fun of bigger girls, because I myself was way bigger a couple times in my life. I'm simply making fun of an American joke by turning things around. That's all. =)

Oh, and my friend isn't fat. In case if you're wondering.

Spanish Inquisition

I just got off the phone with my parents. I haven't spoken to them in almost three weeks. But it wasn't entirely my fault, you see, because I didn't know they took a couple weeks off to do some vacationing. And of course, despite the fact that I have had my current email address since 1999, my dad always seem to send me emails to my MSN account, which is used only for chatting online with my parents, while the email feature is blocked. Never mind the fact that I have told him for the better part of the last three years to get his address book updated. Aarrgghh!

So anyway, it was quite inevitable that the subject of a steady girl came up. While I was on the phone with my dad, he didn't want to rile up my mom so he broached the subject by asking, "Do you have a friend yet?" (Note, the underlined part was in English, whereas the rest of his question was in Mandarin.) I replied to his question with a question, "What do you mean by friend; I have lots of friends," knowing full well what he meant. Then my dad complained about how he couldn't hear me.

The next thing I know, my mom was talking. The first words out of her mouth? "You know, 30 is a good age to get married." What the... "How come you don't have a girlfriend yet?"

Great, here comes the Chinese Inquisition. Again. Maybe I should have waited another week before deciding to give them a buzz.

As I failed to make them understand that I had to work weekends on this project, I simply started thinking about that Spice Girls song. I think it's called either Be My Lover or Wannabe. Whatever the title is, I began mouthing the words: "So tell me what you want, what you really really want." And before I could restrain myself, I found myself asking her, "So what do you really want? A wife or a baby?"

Of course, in her excitement, she revealed that she wanted a grand kid. But instead of telling her that Szu and her husband have been trying this year, I simply responded, "Well, in that case, I can make it happen without a wife. All I need is to give up something to protect me (as I didn't know the Mandarin word for protection as a noun), and you will have a baby in nine months or so. But you have to be willing to put up with some random girl whose beauty may be questionable to you."

My mom obviously got embarrassed, and laughed it off. All of a sudden, instead of wanting a grand kid, she decided that she wanted me to have a proper wife.

Sigh... Any takers out there? This will purely be a matter of practicality just so I can get my parents off of my back. I'll even pay you! I'll even be willing to lie to my parents that I shoot blanks! Please, someone put me out of my misery.

Zigazig ha!

Alarming Japanese Birth Rate Decline Discovered!

Disturbing Video of the Day

Oral Sex Advice?!?

I’m a health nut. And as such, part of my daily routine is to go on Google News, and make sure I never miss the headlines relating to health. In addition to that, I also get newsletters from WebMD about once every other day.

Well, I have been sort of slacking off with reading the newsletters of late. And since I don’t have to work tomorrow or the day thereafter, I am staying up doing random crap on the Internet and catching up on emails. Well, wouldn’t you know it? One of the topics from the WebMD newsletters from a few days back touted: Oral Sex Protection.

Being a guy that I am, any mention of sex or anything relating thereof will instantly cause me to drop everything I was doing at that moment and catch my full, undivided attention. So naturally, I simply had to click on the link to satisfy my hard curiosity.

It turns out that it wasn’t necessarily expert advice, but more from the message boards where members can interact with others. Non-sexually, of course; seeking advice, sharing stories, et cetera. Usually I would ignore stuff like this, but I pressed on. The premise of the whole discussion? My husband and i often practice safe sex but whenit [sic] comes to oral sex, i have no idea what to buy in order to be safe. Are there condoms for oral sex? Help

Of all the responses offered by fellow members, I was floored by this guy’s response:
...
To answer your question though, you can use normal condoms for oral sex, just don't get lubricated ones. I believe they make condoms that are flavored, you can probably order them online.
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My advice is 100% post-consumer recycled material.

WAAAIT A MINUTE!!! What da...?!? I’m not quite sure I’ll be willing to slip on a 100% post-consumer condom!!!