Vampires Live in Boston

Gay bars and karaoke... not a good combination.

2010-03-11T11:48:00.000-08:00

So, I know I haven't written in a while... again. This is going to change right now! For real this time.

I thought I would start this post with something that happened recently happened to me. I went to a gay bar the other day in Manhattan called PIECES. It was Tuesday night, which apparently is karaoke night. Fine, I'm not he biggest fan of karaoke. I was going with some friends so I put a smile of my face and went. We get to the bar, which consisted of some hot guys, some hein guys, and slew of quasi-good-looking men. I like variety, so I immediately like this place! I'm sitting with my friends just watching all the gays take their turn on stage, singing mostly Lady Gaga, Cher, and showtunes. Amaze!

Then this one guy gets up to sing, Beau is his name. He was cute, I have to say. Only we was wearing a black trench coat, black hunting boots, black jeans, and a black v-neck t-shirt. My first impression of Beau was not a very good one. He looked like a gothic Danny Zuko. Only he defs did not have the angelic voice of John Travolta. Anyway, after his song he got off the stage and we made eye contact. I wasn't trying to catch his attention, I was just so amazed at how somebody like himself even exists. From that point on he kept staring/glaring at me, until I finally gave in and decided to talk to him. The first thing out of Beau's mouth was "So, do you want to fuck me?" WHAT?!? I don't even know this guy! I'm not going to bore you with the small talk; that's just a little taste of the type of thing Beau enjoys talking about.

Later in the evening, I make my way to the bathroom. And who is there seemingly waiting for me? Black-clothed Danny Zuko of course! I sort of ignore him, as much as one can ignore another without being outwardly offensive. I'm peeing in the urinal, minding my business (literally), when I turn to find Beau attempting to reach around me! What was I supposed to do? I can't just stop the flow of urine out of my shaft on command. Have no fear, however, he didn't get near my unmentionables. I managed to wiggle away from his grasp enough to finish my business. I then zip up and wash my hands, all the while Beau is behind me creepily hovering. As I walk out of the bathroom Beau grabs my waist and begins violently making out with me. At this point, I don't even care anymore. Whatever, I'll make out with you Beau... maybe you'll leave me alone after this.

Shortly after our brief yet heated make out session, I make my way back to my friends to find Beau STILL staring at me. I ultimately decided to let him stare. There was no way I was going back over to him. Although, I must admit, there was and is a part of me that wished I had gone over to him the second time. Call me twisted, but I actually enjoyed having Beau stalk me in a way. It gave me a sense of empowerment. That I had the ability to make him do things or make him want me more. I don't know, maybe there's something wrong with me, but you can't tell me it doesn't feel good when someone wants you so deeply, so ultimately, and you just can't reciprocate the feeling?

A Hotdog, Blob, and Hussy

2009-10-15T19:16:00.000-07:00

I don't understand the purpose of un-friending someone off of facebook. What is the point? Are we in sixth grade again? Is this an electronic form of giving someone the silent treatment? Maybe the un-frienders think they are getting a good jab at us by saying we're not "friends" in the magical world of the internet. I picture like avatars fighting with one another in a digital realm with encoded numbers and letters whizzing by. My avatar would be Buffy so, clearly, I win.

Seriously though, I have been un-friended on facebook by a human hotdog, a blob, and someone that I thought was cool, but is now a floozy in my book. The main reason for the un-friending was because of comments I had made on other of these tool's comments. I'm sorry but if someone is going to post something on a public access website (especially prejudice things), they have to expect that someone will put them in their place and fight back via comment wars. Right? Or if two people are having a "private" conversation with one another over a photo comment? Hello! It's called a message. Or get a flipping e-mail account at least. People are just dumb. That's the rationale I have come up with. I'm not saying i'm a genius, but I know better than to write something about someone in a comment that all of facebook has access to. This makes me think that these twits actually want people to see how lame/immature/utterly insane they really are. So, am I in the wrong for commenting on there absurd postings? I think facebook should filter out these bottom-feeding, cool-kid wannabes. I should be the one un-friending blobs and overly-tanned creatures, not the other way around. I am better than them, and I am definitely not perfect.

This isn't high school anymore, you're not the promiscuous one, or the pretty girl, or the drug addict. This is life, the real world. If you can't handle someone's rebuttle to your harebrained antics, you can't just un-friend them. You are going to have to work with people you most likely hate, or partake in situations you wouldn't even subject your goldfish to. Get over yourself. You need to realize that if our avatars ever have a real throwdown over the cyberspace, my avatar (Buffy) would be casually coasting on an ether-wave yawning out of sheer boredom, while your pathetic excuse for a warrior (probably Tweety bird) is voraciously weilding a sword repeatedly to no avail. Your avatar would eventually die of exhaustion and mine would remain victorious. You will eventually tire of being such a nimwit and live a normal life, but until then, try and grow up just a tad.

H-Town Hell

2009-10-07T11:03:00.000-07:00

I'm moving to Brooklyn on November 15. Thank fucking God! I cannot stand being in Highland anymore. We spend a significant portion of our lives in a town that offers nothing to anyone with a dream, or any aspiration for that matter. Sure there are people that stay forever, but mostly, people just want to get the hell out of their hometown.

Reason #1 I do not want to be in Highland, NY any longer:

Annoying, prejudice, bitchy, people who think they can just talk about whomever they want about whatever they want. News flash: you're not that cool. And if you have something to say regarding me, just say it to my face so I can get a good look at yours before I spit in your eye. I don't do anything to anyone, but somehow they will find something to talk about. Mutant bastards is what they are.

Reason #2:

Gossip. Enough said.

Reason #3:

The simple fact that there is nothing to do. There are a total of 4 bars/clubs that are worth going to--if you can even use the word 'worth.' They're more like dwellings where girls get seriously inebriated and either throw up on their faux Gucci stilettos, or guys pound beers until they drool on their Abercrombie and Bitch (I mean, Fitch) polo's and get into a fight.

Reason #4:

Driving. I absolutely hate hate hate driving. First off, it makes me feel terrible about my carbon footprint. Secondly, it's just pesky. I would rather walk to get some milk, but when the closest grocery store is 7 miles away, you sort of have no choice but to drive there. I think there should be a convenient store of sorts at the end of every road in rural America. It will help the environment and create more jobs that didn't exist prior. I think I just solved the economic problem and Global warming in one fell swoop. I should write a proposal to the Obama Administration.

I'm sure there are loads more reasons I am forgetting here so feel free to leave some suggestions in a comment. Basically, I am not the type of person to be stuck in a suburb (or in Highland's case, a suburb of a suburb of a suburb, etc). I need the livelihood of a city, the convenience to get anywhere quickly, and the opportunity to meet new people every single day. Is it November 15 yet?

My Life on the Z-List

2009-09-24T21:10:00.001-07:00

Ok so I haven't written anything in a VERY VERY long time, I am aware. I'm attempting to revive this lil blog o' mine and I'm determined to let it shine. Here is something I have been thinking about lately: If my life were to be transformed into a movie/TV show, who would play myself and my friends?

Melissa

would be played by...

Hilary Clinton

would be played by...

Buffy Summers-AKA Sarah Michelle Gellar (of course)

Sharon

would be played by...

Baby Babs

Ashton

would be played by...

Snoop Dogg/Snoop Dizzle/The Snoop (that's ill)

Karley

would be played by...

Baby Britney

Brittany

would be played by...

LiLo

Michelle

would be played by...

Shakira-ira

(The idea for this post is derived from kevingrossman.blogspot.com, a fellow blogger and a former colleague at Highland High)

How NOT to Call Someone a Racist

2009-02-03T14:46:00.000-08:00

"What's your name?" -Blood sucking egomaniac

"Antonio." -Me

"Oh, you're Portuguese, that explains it." -Blood sucking egomaniac

"Actually I'm Italian, and what's THAT supposed to mean?" -Me

"Oh, you're Italian... even better!" -Blood sucking egomaniac

"You're a racist." -Me

"Get out." -Blood sucking egomaniac

This is the conversation that took place shortly after someone tried to cheat me out of some cash. My boss sent me to purchase something from a store down the road. He gave me five-hundred dollars in petty cash, and said that it shouldn't cost more that three-hundred. So, I get in his car, light up a cigarette, and slwoly pull away from the curb. I reach my destination ten minutes later, flick my butt, and parallel park the car--impressive huh? I walk inside and tell the cashier what I was there to pick up. I refer to him as the blood sucking egomaniac because that's what he is. He had a brawly looking figure, dark inset eyes, a very defined brow-ridge, and a hair line which receded to the back of his over-sized dome. He ignored me after I told him what I needed and walked away. What was I to do? Should I say something or simply await his return? I opted for the latter choice, which I now deeply regret. Oh, he came back all right. Only it was 20 minutes later! I honestly don't know how I passed that time away without even realizing it. I was probably daydreaming about frolicking through an open pasture with Barack Obama. Anyway, the blood sucking egomaniac comes back with the things I went there to get and he says, "$250." So, I take the wad o' cash out of my pocket and carefully count out the total. Now, I am positive that I counted the correct amount out; I'm not an idiot, I can count in increments of twenty. He took the money and said that I shorted him a hundred dollars. He then proceeded to snatch the remainder of the five hundred dollars out of my other hand. I promptly reclaimed the cash and told him that I gave him the correct amount to begin with. This is when the aforementioned conversation took place.

1) Don't be a pushover.

Don't let people walk all over you, especially members of the customer service world, whos job is to cater to your every need. I could have avoided this conflict had I chose to confidentally voice my dissatisfaction with the blood suckers ignoring me.

2) Be aware of how much money you are actually giving someone.

Although I did give the correct amount to the blood sucker, I have to admit that I was a bit confused when he told me I had shorted him. Had I actually given him the wrong amount without knowing it, this situation could have been exponentially worse. He probably would have punched me in the face, then I would have been forced to punt him into oncoming raffic.

3) Don't daydream about Barack Obama.

This is just creepy and altogether wrong. Hello! You're in the middle of a very serious transaction between proprietor and consumer. Get your head on straight and focus on the task at hand.

Heed my advice and you will not go wrong when the impulse strikes to call someone a racist. You never know, the sudden urge may creep up on you unexpectedly. Like when you're having sex, working with your boss who's thinking about giving you a promotion, or even talking to a small, innocent child.

The Bad Side of the Road

2009-01-23T14:54:00.000-08:00

Today I walked on the wrong side of the street. Literally, I decided to walk on the opposite side of Cambridge Street than I usually travel on my stroll home from work, for some depraved reason. Things are different on that side, and definitely NOT in a good way. I had more homeless men ask me for money than I have ever had since moving to the land of the crazies. One had a turban, another had a cowboy hat, and one had nothing atop his head--including hair. I gave the first guy 50 cents because he seemed sincere, babbling something about his laundry and not having a pot to piss in. I can't believe how different things were on the other side of the street. Maybe I feel this way because I am not used to seeing the world from an opposing perspective. I wonder... if one of these homeless men, for instance, were to leave his usual "corner" and venture to a new post, would he have a similar experience to me? Or would nothing change to him because he's probably just wasted anyway?

In all seriousness though, I do sympathize for the homeless. Just not the one's who throw their lives away by choosing not to do anything meaningful with their lives. Is this laziness or simply ignorance? Who knows, obviously not me.

Diabolical Spat

2009-01-12T06:30:00.000-08:00

I can't begin to tell you how much I can't stand people that come into my work. These people simply waltz in and demand, demand, demand! As if they have some unwritten right to do as they please, without even thinking about how they are effecting others. What am I talking about? These people don't think. God, they barely have brains, let alone consciences or remorse.

For instance, a woman came in the other day and began her conversation with me as follows, "Where's my stuff?" Now, I'm used to this sort of rude jargon when it comes to these mutants from the crpyt, but this woman was particularly rude and out-spoken. But, I kept my cool and went to see if I couldn't find her stuff. As I walked away from her, she began growling, literally growling. It was actually pretty frightening, it was like she was speaking in a foreign tongue or something. So, I sought to get her stuff as soon as I could to get her the hell out as quickly as possible. To my dismay I returned empty-handed. Never a good idea; they don't like it when that happens. Her face morphed into something fierce and her voice got deeper than Samuel L. Jackson's in Snakes on a Plane. You know the saying about people's hair standing on their heads when something jarry happens? Well, this woman proved to me that this saying holds water. Her nappy/ratty/clumpy hair looked like it was moving. Maybe that's just my own personal interpretation of what happened, considering I was being attacked and all, but something was not right with those long strands of dead skin cells atop her head. It was like all the wily beasts of hell were festering in her body just waiting for a chance to reveal themselves.

After a few satanic verses on her behalf about how I'm a terrible person and I deserve to get hit by the next route 69 bus that comes up Cambridge Street, I told her she needed to leave and that I was sorry I couldn't do anything for her. Of course, this was a complete farce on my part; I could give two raisins what she thinks of me. She started to walk toward the door, but not before turning around and rocketting an elephantine glob of gue all over the counter. Yes, she spit on the counter directly adjacent to where my hand was resting. Thankfully for me, and that haggard witch, that only a few specks of her devil juice reached my fingers. I don't know what I would have done had a larger portion of her spat hit my hand.

Now, was this all really necessary? GET OVER IT! You are not going to get what you want today. Channeling Lucifer and launching loogies on angelic people is not going to change that fact. Even if she would have asked me politely why she couldn't or when she possible could get her stuff, I would have been further willing to help her. Actually, I think this particular demon needs more help than any average sumaritan can give her. It's going to take a small army to relieve her of her evils. Or maybe she just needs to be slain. Any Buffy's out there?