Heartbroken Taiwan man climbs into morgue freezer

A new poem here.

Headline: Heartbroken Taiwan man climbs into morgue freezer

Fire

Bad ass.

Membership renewed

Me: I've only gain back seven pounds in the past seven months.

R: That's not good.

Me: Yes it is. I haven't worked out since October-November. One pound per month.

R: Think 10 years.

Word

On Friday I went to an 80's party knowing, full well, that we had to pack and move out before 3PM Saturday. With the exception of D, I don't think the guys faired that well. Some of them were in the wrong decade, the 90s, and many of them were just hipsters rocking white plastic shades. The ladies were right on.

On our way out the door was crowded. So I tried to squeeze thru a few folks with my ass in the air. It was uncalled for and I should have said excuse me. Instead I announced, "I'm too fat for this shit. My bad!". I felt I was in a game of freeze tag: all eyes on me and everyone stiff.

Washed Away

Washed Away

Poem

We lost track of time again. R and I kept talking about relationships, stupid people, and that our worlds are each collapsing. Then he proposed a question about failed commitments and the separate lives which follow. Heh, what's this asshole getting at? One terror is good enough for me. Poem. It really made me feel alive. *

80's Night

S will be hosting an 80's night for his birthday. We're somewhat friends again. This is a perfect time for me to rock my rug jacket, bright shirt, tight jeans, and floral tie with some old kicks. Only problem is I got drunk last weekend for a Bachelor's party.

CY's brother calls me, "Mr. No Drink" since I hardly drink. So they were shocked when I out-chugged everyone including the two wrecking balls. And held my own with (chase-less) shots. As you may know my drinking face is full of funk and terror.

30lbs ago I use to be bad at parties. Which were frequent: drink and flirt, drink and throw up. So I started to limit myself after, almost, dying. My friends kept me up that night with slaps and flashes. I don't recall the event. The photos were terrible, posted and lost on Xanga. So much snot.

Funny, I woke up on S's floor in my boxers and a different shirt. He changed me since I threw up all over myself.

So glad I know my limits now. Woo hoo.

huge mess

The picture above is my neice, Melear is 5. My nephew, Preston, is 3. I devised a game to keep them quiet. It's called tattle on the baby (whoever sleeps first) and win. Preston keeps winning.

1.

Preston: Melear fell asleep!
Melear: No! No! I'M AWAKE! Preston!
Preston: Uncle, she's asleep! Wake up Melear!
Melear: Stop it.
Preston keeps laughing obnoxiously

2.

Preston: Melear wake up! Uncle she's sleeping.
Me: Yay, you win!
Melear: Preston, you liar! Stop it.
Preston: You're awake!
Preston continues laughing.

3.

Melear: Preston's sleeping.
Preston: No, I'm awake.
Melear is mad.

chaps and poems

It seems most blogs have been updated with new skins. It's all fresh & funk. The past week has been good to me. I'll blog more about it in a bit.

I also got two chaps. Hoss sent me this cool chap that was neatly assembled. This, too, was gorgeous (thanks Debbie). I forgot all about it which made it, like, a belated bday gift. There's also a new poem up here which was inspired by Helene's postcard poem to Joseph.

* Link fixed