How to Make Friends at Bars, Part 1

Arrive with girl. Proceed with girl to make acquaintances with two random people. Begin dancing.

Somebody explain this

http://www.i-am-asian.com/

Do I truly live on this planet?

New Blogs

Piercing Glares, Inticing Stares is a faux Missed Connections. This will contain humorous letters of lost love (albeit made up).

Depths of My Soul is a comical outlook on the proliferation of emo websites, the writing of melodramatic prose, and the general feel-sorry-for-me culture that has overwhelmed the pop charts and the hearts of the susceptible.

Expect more funny blogs in the future like Mr. Mailbox, your neighborhood bum, in the near future.

The Management

Life What About It

Who are we? We are what society wants us to be. We blame it on our childhood or we say that we pulled our shit together and made something of our lives. Everyone does it, even silver spoon babies will say they had it hard. Everyone has it hard, not enough money, no love, no structure, single parent, and orphan, whatever. All people have had hardships. Stop fucking crying, no one cares. No one is special. We are all products of lust, love, rape, anything we are a product of it. Call it what you want, its all bullshit. Why should I give a shit about someone who claims their life was fucked up because their mommy didn’t tit feed them. Or boo fucking hoo daddy play grab ass with you. It sucks, life its shit, but pick up the fucking cards your were dealt and play them. Don’t bitch out, don’t fucking fold, raise the stakes, push what you’re worth all fucking in.

Another Glimpse of My Life

“Our lives are trading cards. We start young as rookies and schools bid for us. We send out mini résumés about ourselves. Trying to get schools interested in us. It’s like the draft we put our best foot forward and then the schools decide who is best for their program. So the school picks and holds your card until its time to trade. Its starts young and never stops. High school, college, companies, and the list grows the older you get.” By. Me.

It’s strange isn’t it? Our whole lives we strive to be perfect, don’t we? But what is perfection, can anyone really define it? Is it a tone body, a six figure income, or a house with a white picket fence? No, that’s not it me. Perfection is different from person to person. Each life is a blank page its up to you what your page contains. Is your life, your page, fiction a string of lies? Is it drama, stories of jealousy and envy? What makes you tick? What defines you? Who are we? Is the person you see in the mirror really who you are? Or, is that face just an empty shell? Is that face what everyone wants to see? Are you acting, are you being what everyone wants? Have you lost who you really are? Think about that, next time you look in the mirror. Look at yourself and ask yourself one question, “Am I who I am”?