Eclectic Oatmeal

That was when I ruled the world.

Posted in boredom, weight loss, wiifit by Bryan on June 27, 2008

Man, I dont have a life. My plan today after waking up was sitting around on the couch watching the Project Runway marathon, while casually playing Final Fantasy on my DS. In the olden days, this could be turned into chain smoking while listening to the radio. In the older olden days, I could be throwing pebbles against each other to discern the future. In the older older olden days, I would have been eaten by a dinosaur. Lung Cancer, A poor future, and being digested dont seem appetizing to me. But why does sitting on the couch watching flamboyant shows while defending a fictional town seem appealing to me? I should read. I should do alot of things. My wiifit board, being the masochist it is, wants me to stand on it. I need to get off my ass and so something productive.

The Next Day: Yesterday, I ran for around 13 minutes (Wiifit says its around 2 miles. Big news for a Professional couch potato.) Well, that 13 minutes paid off. I do my daily weight test, to see how much eating 8 tacos effected me. Well, it didnt effect me. It said I lost 4 pounds. In one day! I dont know if its a fritz in the system, or an act from god. I dont know, neither do I question this beautiful basket delivered on my front doorstep. I can now be gleeful, I’m now only overweight (No longer obese). I can now only have mild humiliation when I swim, I can go from large to medium! I can no longer make myself look pregnant (I think I still can, It needs to be tested.)

The Day After: Teeming with joy with my recent major weightloss. I step on the wii balance board, with a shocking conclusion. I gained 7 pounds in one night! Sure, I did some serious snacking the night before, but its impossible to gain 8 pounds in one night. Still, this is discouraging. 10 minutes of step-aerobics and 20 minutes of running SHOULD cure this weight ailment.

All the children sing my songs.

Posted in gay, gaydar by Bryan on June 20, 2008

I should just take another plunge. Another plunge into humiliation and self loathing. Its one of those things that afterwards, one just feels completely stupid afterwards. Mortification would be the definition of the problematic situations that me and my people suffer. Its definately suffering. Its one of the lamest sufferings to ever describe.

Though I feel stupid for describing it, I shall. The plight of the gay person is terrible. I shant complain about the whole stereotyping and prejudice aspect. You all know it, and its no fun to read. This is the plight of seeing if a guy is straight or not. This seems like a simple test of perception (Which, by the way, is a new skill in DnD 4.o), but it can easily turn into a excructiating exam of reading people. I dont see how other people do it so well, they should all become poker players. I for one, am not a poker player, my cash in facebook blackjack is-1500$. The gamble is also huge, its completely embarassing to hit on someone who doesnt roll your way. You cant just meekly drink a beverage and shy away. I’m in situations were I have no where to run, so I have to wallow in my own social filth. Theres supposed to be this look I guess. This geisha flash of the eyes, but I dont have the gaydar radio tower to detect it. Even if I could smell the musk of a fellow queer, I wouldnt be attracted. Life cant be that easy for me. I have to be attracted to macho stallions. People so under my gaydar, that I have to use leznar, the sonar to the radar. Its excrutiating, a test of willpower.

Should I plunge? There isnt really anyone worth plunging for. Should I take the dive into self sacrifice and ask?

Edit:
I went to the cleavland pride festival sunday. Whole story short, it was really gay. Near the end of our trip, I wasnt getting hit on. So, I decided to take fate into my own hands and ask a cute boy with a camera and a fledgling beard. Totally my type, so I walked up, nervous as shit, and asked him. As I walked, not paying attention to anything, Julia (my friend from DnD) saw McDreamy nibbling on his girlfriend’s ear. She couldnt do anything to stop me from the awkward ness.
“Hi, are you gay?”
“Why?” said Indie & Steamy
“Because I think you are very attractive.”
“Um, this is my girlfriend Kate.”
“OH! Hey Kate!”
“Dont worry, I think he is cute too!” says Kate whom, in a different life, I would totally hang out with.
“Well, you have good taste then!”
I sheepishly powerwalk away. Later, I had to hide myself behind another friend, Renee, because he and his hip posse were walking by.

Lovey Dovie Smooshie Poo.

Posted in angst, Depressing, Emails, Love, Romance, self esteem by Bryan on June 15, 2008

I’m a romantic.

What can I say?

In public, I’m apathetic, angsty, and all of these pessimistic words that start with an A. I act like a cynical kid who believes love is only finding someone you can deal with. But underthecovers and through the woods, I’m really a helpless romantic. I dream of Prince Charming coming on his noble mount, with a +2 Longsword in tow, and saving me from any trouble I’m in. (The only reason he needs to do this is because I ran out of spells for the day.) I fantasize about living a nice flat in new york, complete with balcony with vegatable garden. Typing away at a typewriter*, with the sugardaddy of my dreams comes home and asks me how my day went. I also fantasize about sipping coffee with Diablo Cody and having Amy Tan as my landlady, but those are a stretch.

Yet, its really hard to be this cheerily optimistic.

“This email was sent by Sparkey.
In total, you were reviewed for dating 45 times and one person expressed interest in you. You are more desirable than 44% of 32,519,537 people. Recently you were viewed 2 times and no people expressed interested in you. Review your dates here. Sparkey is a product of Chainn. “
Okay, the whole more desirable than 44 percent of people is a nice touch. Though, out of 45 people, one person expressed interest in me part really hurts. Only .022% of people are interested in me. Wow, this is a shot to my ego, id, and my libido. I know my picture looks like I have a hideous rash all over my face, but please! The whole mechanisim is comparing me to other people, then you click on the one you’re more interested in. I have to be atleast more attractive than most people prowling facebook. Maybe I’m showing to much stress over this.

Its just, when emails like this are sent to me, my whole fantasy of a kickass adventuring duo or literary circle of nirvana crashes. It sets me back to the train of though that, I would probably end up with some douche bag who likes to pee on me, but I dont have a choice because he pays for me addiction (I usually imagine it being heroin, cutting, or sex. But I dont see how he can pay for the latter two) Sure, the house is decent. I could still have my vegtable garden, Though the neighbour’s pet miniature schnowzer keeps getting into it, ruining my beautiful tomatos. I wouldnt have a landlady, much less a cool asian author. My typewriter would be a crappy one that my dubious Melvin (Interchangeable with Phil, Ralph, Bruce, Bob) bought so he could use a saddle on me. My pessimism rises, I desperately check my datecraft* account to see if that nerdy seventeen year old from the UK messaged me back, Did I scare him away with my lame IM name? Is he mad that I dont play anymore?! IS IT ME!?

I could just look at the glass half full aspect though. One person is interested in me. Though, the initial email has made me feel like “gang-green green”. One person, it could be Melvin, Phil, Ralph, Bruce, or Bob. Knowing full well that I would only have one person interested in me, and would be able to use that during sex to get their jollies. Or, it could possibly that one guy that makes my heart sparkle like the spell glitterdust. One can only hope.

*Datecraft is a site where World of Warcraft players find lovers.

Five types of Chicken.

Posted in Brooke, graduation party, Laura, Shannon by Bryan on June 15, 2008

I made another blogger, I know. How many blogger titles can a guy make without throwing down the pitchfork and screaming, enough is enough! I’ve been through a botched comic career, a 5 person blog that never took off (due to the fact that no one posted my introduction and that no one told me that we were launching it). I’m a guy of habit, I always come scrounging back to the xanga. Well folks, I already put thirty minutes of hard work and effort into creating this little blissful blog, and by darnit I’m keeping the thing! You may ask why I force my friends to dredge away from their slums in xangaville, and heres one thing. Blogger just seems more proffessional, its like instead of going to the local library to type up your sleazy romance novel, you’d go at home and buy a typewriter that clicks and clacks and does that “Ka-ching!” when you push back the typer. Blogger just does that, except for online journals. It gives me this sudden air of inspiration and “Its all on the line” that xanga doesnt give me. Xanga also doesnt give me a nifty url!
Many of you who might be reading this now, are my friends. So, I dont have to do a formal introduction. If many, if any, of you dont know me, hopefully you will in the upcoming months. So, I’m just going to dive headfirst into my world, and hopefully give a slight biography on people I mention in this blog. To keep folks up to date on the strange history of Bryan.
Today, I went to a graduation party of Shannon. I, a soon to be junior, would usually not have any senior friends due to my lack of clubs and lack of charisma, but I have a sister. Brooke, whom I really dislike and whom has a habit of going bonkers (like, Crazy stalker bonkers). Brooke and Shannon arent friends anymore, due to this crazy stalker persona. They were friends all middle school and highschool, until Brooke called Bob Evans (the place of Shannon’s work). See, Shannon is a conesseuir of marijuana. Brooke, didnt approve of it (though she does approve of abusing Nyquil and antidepressants) and called up the job. Stating that “She and coworkers smoked pot by the garbage dump can and that her manager sold her atteroll.” Shannon, narrowly escaped this trap and basically sent Brooke to the negaverse in her myspace top eight. I though hung out with Brooke’s friends before this incident, and this ruined my chances of getting a job at Bob Evans. So we were basically bonded for life.
Anyway, I was running late to this party, and I was freaking out. I ran out of underwear (the norm) and had to get a ride. I asked my brother to give me a ride, but he complained that his whole body was in pain and he was pissed he had to go to work. I asked him to take me an hour earlier, thanks bro, real pal. So, out of desperation, I asked my sister. She didnt even seem like she realized that she was driving me to the girl she betrayed’s house. The drive there was silent, yet not awkward. I was worried that she’d drive into a lake or fire hydrant. I arrived, first friend to be there, and chowed down on the five types of chicken. I didnt even know there could be five types of chicken in one place, like it would be bending some kind of ancient, magical rule. Nothing bad happened though, its like Shannon’s family was well read in the Archeological tomes of chicken summoning. Still though, I warily eat the voodoo chickens. I stuck with the pasta salad, which was, in graduation food terms, a novice’s dish. Shannon, being the girl of the day, awkwardly said, “Hello, I dont remember you!” to all of the family members she hasnt seen in year. While she did this, and then swam (Which I dont really enjoy due to my horrendous bacne.) sat by a large woman named Laura. Laura smoked shitloads of cigarettes, Virginia Slims. Which blew right into my face, she was very polite about it though. And we shuffled, the wind decided to blow in my face the smoke. Maybe some punishment for eating the chicken? I chilled with her and discussed random topics, with plenty of awkward silences. By the end of the day though, it acted like we always knew each other. Like sitting on the deck watching people swim bonded us. She was a funny woman, who didnt mind swearing. I didnt like the fact that she was a tad rascist (had to mention that the kids in atlanta who stabbed her kid with a fork were black.) But that is just a minor quibble, and maybe blown out of proportion. Anyway, back to the point of how quickly we came into this whole friendship momentum inwhich we were old pals. I’m usually awkward around adults!Also, she said I was adorable. Which made me feel peachy keen and delighted. Which could’ve made me warm up to her a little bit.
Eventually I left my newfound confidant and went for a swim. Bacne and hairy nipples exposed. Though, I wasnt the most vulnerable. One girl, Jaclyn, wore a t-shirt and shorts. The water stuck to her gianormous pornstar breasts (Which was her only winning feature, since the rest of her looked like a troglodyte). Full nipple exposure. So, that comforted me enough to take a dip. Albeit for a second. Also, I’m the worst corn-holer in the world.