Airport Anti-Respeck Part I

As promised,I am going to bitch about the airport.With that said, I would like to say FUCK YOU shoe bomber! If it were not for your dumb fucking self, we would not have to take our shoes off at the security checkpoint. Do you realize how many people go through that line every single day? Do you realize how many (not to be racist) foreigners drag their feet along that tile floor, feet that are dirtier and seen more ground then my Dunlop Tires? Do you realize just how fucking disgusting it is to walk barefoot on that floor? God-forbid it is raining or snowing outside so you have to peel off your boots that have hooks and shit to keep your laces intact, or those 15 inch rubber boots chicks wear, that look just as easy to take on and off as putting on a condom in the dark for a fucking armless amputee. Imagine having kids! F that shit. Imagine if you fucked up like Jon and Kate and you had to untie and tie back on 6-8 pairs of shoes on top of yours. Fuck that. Solution? Travel via airplane ONLY in the summer and wear flip flops... but risk looking like a douche and wear socks, so you can burn them after the security checkpoint with the lighter you can bring with you, but you won't be able to put that fire out because you had to throw away your 16oz bottle of aquafina.

Next time I will talk about the Walk of Shame. Until then. RESPECK!

Back in Action.. what to expect and WTF Minneapolis?

My apologies to the thousands of you out there reading this. I have been out of town in one of the most unique cities I have ever been to: Minneapolis. This short trip for work brought up a lot of ideas which thanks to the blackberry I actually jotted down my ideas and not leave it to chance that my brain actually remembers. So for the next few days I will go through a number of topics centered around what sucks about flying.
Anywho, flying there aside, Minneapolis was a unique place. I do not think I have ever been to a place that had as many identities as they do lakes. First off, this city seems to love everybody but their own. There is such a blend of Packer, Bear and even Lions fans. Then you get your Cubs, White Sox, Brewers fans. Then there are 15 Joe Mauer jerseys on gameday to kind of make up for it. Minneapolis, much like the Mad Hatter had no idea wtf they wanted to be. Even in a place like Washington DC where everyone is from somewhere else and it is a big mixing bowl of rich and poor and white and purple, it still is centered around the great monuments, and each neighborhood has its own uniqueness. Yet in Minneapolis in the heart of their downtown area, it was such a crazy mix it was like the time I sprinkled fun dip in my Chipotle burrito and didn't know wtf was going on.First off, nothing says suck it when you enter a new city and there is nothing but construction everywhere. Maybe they are building a new identity, but jesus, there was more closed roads than open ones and my fucking rolling carry-on looked like Fred Flinstones busted ass feet after picking up Pebbles from Bedrock ES. It didn't matter anyway because at the heart of "rush hour" (5:30pm) I looked out my window of my hotel room and counted on my hands 5 cars on the road that were moving... FIVE.
Anyway, I digress. In the city right outside of my nice Hilton was a Ruth Chris steakhouse. Made sense considering the large number of big ass buildings and companies headquartered there. There probably is a good amount of businessmen and affluent cunts running around there. Yet around the corner is a Payday Advance or Checks Cashed place. For the record, people who have money don't use services like this. People who are addicted to drugs and rub their faces on sidewalks use services like this. Then every block of downtown, some city planning genius decided it would be a good idea to shape their bus stops like an octagon. God-forbid they strayed away from your traditional bench with a cover over top. Instead they made it into a bus stop sanctuary.. i.e. homeless people party pads. I understand Minneapolis is a cold place and lots of people use that shit, but I guess they didn't notice as fast as I did the tons of homeless people that live there (ironically, they "live" there, but have no where to live). So now, people can't truly use those bus stops because Gold-toothed Earle has his hot plate kitchen and guest bedroom set up in the bus stop. It is like giving them a free studio apartment in the heart of the city for $0 rent.
Besides the homelessness and the poor mixed with the extremely rich, the homosexual presence was everywhere. I didn't really know Minneapolis was known for that, but they run that place. No issues with that, just thought it was a unique place to set up shop. I guess Canadian gays are nicer.
So now we have the business men, the poor, the homeless who are really poor, the homosexuals, now it comes time bring on the countries. One of the most popular bars in Minneapolis is called Brit's. You do the fucking math on what country they represent. Then across the block is Locals... which is an Irish place. I tried to do the math, but that made NO SENSE what so ever. Didn't even meet a local who was Irish.. nor was anyone in there Irish, all they had was Jameson and lots of it. Then theres the Mexican restaurants which is okay.. pretty standard for a city, but then you have the Jamaican shop and the Indian grocery store. All of these within 1 block of each other, some facing or adjacent to one another.
Now the real breed of people there that were totally fucked up and wrapping up my wtf is Minneapolis rant, were your standard white people. Usually to me, white people look similar. Sometimes some are tanner than others. Some like my anonymous friend Jeff have a lot of freckles. Some have acne, some have dark hair, light hair, buzzed or pony tailed, whatever. Yet in Minneapolis white males LOVED their mustaches. I am not talking like your standard I have not shaved in a week I got a little stache growing. Nor the, hey its Halloween, I wanna look like Hitler, stache. They had the Super Troopers, Ron Burgundy, Dirk Diggler, fucking novelty look a like specials on their faces. At first I thought it was a joke. Then I saw 3 in the same place (Brit's). Then we went across the street and our bar tender at the Irish place looked like fucking Luigi from Super Mario! (who by the way had no idea wtf the Detroit Lions are) It must be THAT cold up there.
Then the biggest shot to my ego. The white women. These beings are not women. They are stretched out at birth and put on this planet to do one thing. Piss off all the short guys in this world and make our junk curl up into our stomachs. These fucking beasts were no joke, minimum 6 feet tall. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. I do not know how University of Minnesota does not have 99 National Championships in Volleyball. These girls eclipsed the sun while walking down the street. I can't talk about that topic for long because I will have to pop like 6 Xanax thinking about it.
I will close with this though. Even though how fucked up the city and all the people were, Minneapolis will not disappear anytime soon due to Social Darwism, kind of like how rednecks and gerbils are. The people there were smart enough to realize that is below 0 degrees farenheit 330 days out of the year and so what did they do? They built a skywalk system that connects a lot of the major buildings in their downtown area. With that you never have to walk outside and do not have to face the cold. This I thought was total genius. North face was probably pissed. Also, you can avoid the tons of bums.
Word. Well thats my thoughts on Minneapolis. Feel free to comment. I will be back later this week to discuss the fucks and cunts about airline travel. Until then, Respeck!

Definition of a Good Friend

I recently made a trip up to Beantown, where suprisingly there are not a lot of Mexicans. Anywho, I was visiting my friends, who read my earlier post about the anal tragedies aka post-lactose stress disorder, and did what they could to accomodate it. As you can see they purchased a great lactose-free product that left me diarrhea free.... well at least until I ate 6 slices of pizza. To keep them annonymous, I will use fake names. So thank you Jeff and Loren!

The Sun Never Sets on a Fatass

I live my life thinking that if I do not learn something about myself today, I did not live the day to the fullest. Every day should bring excitement and bring experiences that will impact the rest of your life. Today was no exception. Today, by accident, one of many trips to the bathroom lead to a revelation. I dashed inside from walking my dog and in desperation to make it to the john to drop the cosbys off at the swimming pooll, I luckily made it in time but this time it was different. I had left my sunglasses on.

I have some friends that do not take their time when taking a dump. In fact, I have a friend that once said in high school, "if I'm not out of here in less than a minute, call the police!" This is the exact opposite of the correct attitude one should have regarding the pooper. Taking a numero dos is one of the absolute, most private and personal moments you have with yourself. If you are in a serious relationship, forget about it, its the ONLY personal moment you have to yourself. Don't be one of those guys who keep the door unlocked and let your girl/guy come in and brush their teeth or chat with you. Let it be about you. Leave your cell phone and blackberry on the counter. A shit should be about you and only you. I do the best thinking on the dumper and will spend as much time as possible on there as possible. Shit, if you're at work and you are away from your desk for 30 minutes and your boss tries to be an asshole and asks where you have been and you respond you were in the bathroom, automatically, all things become awkward for him or her and your are in the clear. No boss will ever ask you anything more, besides "are you okay? do you need anything?" They will never say, "well don't shit again in this office!"

Yet it was today where my Ry*n time became extra special. Not only is a sesh on the shitter a magical moment in itself, but in high definition with my Maui Jim sport sunglasses was a whole 'nuther experience. If you are one of those douche bags that only wear $10 aviator sunglassses or the Sulja Boy silly plastic sunglasses, then you are part of a lame ass group of people as well as not priveliged enough to experience life in polarized, high definition. When you are outside it is like looking at a 1080p 72 inch lcd tv. But taking that new world into the can while relieving some anal stress is the epitomy of peacefulnessl. I could ramble on and find as many words as possible to rename the toilet, and express the greatness of the experience, but rather, I challenge you to do it. Comments are welcomed and encouraged. So as a great philosopher Nike once said, "Just Do It." Respeck.

Milk, Milk it's good for your heart.. the more I drink it the more i FART

My sudden urge for a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch sparked this entry.

You know what is embarrassing? It is embarrassing to have someone look for milk in your refrigerator and have to choose between Silk, Lactaid and half and half creamer. We may be one of the only families where your standard milk is not a regular on the grocery list.Reason being... once milk or one of her friends like cheese hit the lips,its immediately cocked and on standby at the balloon-knot's exit hole.

Although lactose intolerance (just learned that it was a 2 part word like last year) is one of those things that are common, it is frustrating as hell. When I try to tell people that I am they're like... "this fat ass that eats cheesy shit all day... yeah right!" I simply go the furthest restroom (hopefully not a public one) run the water and let the sounds entering the toilet blend-in with the faucet. But sometimes you gotta pick your battles, and for me, I would rather fight explosive diarrhea then stop eating delicious cheese and devouring delightful dairy products. Yes, go ahead and admire that alliteration.

Considering I will never pass up on a plate of delicious cheese fries or turn down a standard plain cheeseburger, I still fear your standard glass of milk. A couple weeks ago I, in desperate need of a bowl of cereal opted for the regular milk. FML. It was like Tienanmen Square, just with less Asian people involved.

Bringing me back to the products discussed earlier. Though these products are great and I care for them dearly, I still feel like a social outcast in the grocery store, looked at as a pants shitter.. a sharter even (thats a later blog entry). Silk is creative because they made it rhyme with milk. They even flavored it! Mom likes to get the vanilla.. frankly, its good but it taste like someone mixed milk of magnesia in there and has that old school chalkboard taste. Lactaid tastes just like milk except that it is called Lactaid. First impression of someone reaching for the lactaid is ewwwwwwww they must shit themselves with the regular stuff. Its public humiliation.. they might as well put it with the medicine aisle.

Anywho, back to my bowl of cereal drenched with Lactaid. I am off to Boston for the weekend and am anxious to see what kind of cheesy mess I find myself in! Respeck.

If Baby Jesus Were a Piece of Furniture

He would be The Man Wall. I had to do a mid-day post to display the greatest invention in mankind. And yes, rightfully so, it is called the Man Wall. RESPECK!





http://www.themanwall.com/the-man-wall/

Kids with Dads are Cooler than Me

This past weekend was another fun filled July 4^th weekend. I went down with my white friends to Lake Anna in Virginia and did the types of activities you would do at a lake… fish, go on a boat, Jet Ski, tubing, water skiing, pee under water, etc… It was a great time. I had an awesome time with my friends, except it was this weekend more than ever did I realize how much of a donkey puss I am when it comes to anything fun. I do not blame this on my mother who raised me, rather my lack of father.

Being raised by my mom and 3 sisters was great growing up and definitely has its perks now. For instance, I really like shopping, I enjoy cooking, a clean kitchen is a happy kitchen, and I know how to listen to a bitching friend for a long time. Unfortunately, those are characteristics of a gay guy too. And though far from popular belief, I’m pretty positive I am straight. Growing up it really did not have an impact (so I thought), I played a lot of different sports, I was a cub scout, went camping, did a lot. I never got good at any sports and never really did anything exciting outside of sports and traveling. Usually it’s the fathers who push their kids into sports and cater to their strengths. If I didn’t like something, momma let me quit. When it came to cub scouts and I had to be held upside down for these stupid pinning ceremonies, my mom had to ask a different dad to hold me because I was too hefty for her arms… at age 8. Fathers usually help with that fun shit.

This lack of excitement and exposure to “different” activities has lead to me to become a total vagine. Yes that is spelled right, a vagine. Say it out loud, it sounds funnier. (Vuh-jine)

One thing that was never checked off my activities or basic life skills list growing up was swimming. It’s not fun being the kid at the pool parties growing up always clinging on the wall and when the other kids want to play Marco polo or something fun like that, you reply “nah, I’d rather keep on playing Spider Man by myself.” You know what that really means? “I’m a big wussy who does not know how to swim and I am praying these 4 hours go by faster and can we get to the fucking cake already! Gosh get me out me out of this stinkin pool!” It’s also not fun being taught by your girlfriend how to swim… at age 20.. that happened. At least now I am confident that I can doggy paddle if need-be, but you will never find my ass going off a diving board. And yes, I will still cling to the edge of a swimming pool and keep on playing Spider Man, but now if people ask me to play Marco Polo, it’s easier to respond “F off “

Another important life skill that I did not learn until way too late to be useful is learning how to ride a bike. Every freaking 4 year old can ride a bike. Shit those kids on Jon and Kate plus 8 could ride bikes and there’s so many of them. How did their dad have the time to teach them how to ride a bike… you know, barely being there and all (too soon?). Anywho, I didn’t learn until I was 13. That is WAY too old for that shit. I was that kid who walked up to the basketball courts and volunteered to dribble the basketball up to the court so I had an excuse not to ride a bike. I ran through the dirt paths in the woods rather than biked because it was “funner” or I wanted to “test out my shoes.” Being deprived of basic shit like this only caused me to make excuses for myself…. Maybe that’s why I’m fat? Whoops, there’s another excuse.

I could go on and on about shit I never did but that can take too long. Cliff notes real quick, some of those other things include roller coasters, anything fast, and anything water related.

Back to this past weekend...

I found a lot of my weekend being horrified of drowning, horrified of doing anything fast, horrified of sitting on this big ass 8 foot inflatable couch called Super Mable, that even 4 year olds were riding… horrified of it all. I watched as my friends had tons of fun going really fast on the jet ski, or being dragged from the back of a boat, or flying off of a tube just for fun.. That shit looks like fun, but I know I would never ever want to be in a situation where that would happen to me. Rather, I found content (pronounced cun-tent not content like table of contents) in doing things like peacefully sitting on the dock and fishing or floating with 2 life vests in the water. Some may say that there is nothing wrong with that, but I think there is plenty wrong. A) I am too young to be a total pussy and B) what am I going to do when I finally have kids? I am not going to let them grow up and be complete wieners at the sight of water, fast-moving things and Asian people just like I am. Sooner or later I am going to have to man up and try doing some of this shit that white people find so great because looking back at how much of a virgine (word of the day) I am is funny, but at the same time oh so gay that it probably annoys people.. and as much as I annoy people, I don’t want it to be because of me being so weak sauce all the time.

Moral of the story, be a good parent and fucking do some exciting shit with your kid so they turned out as F’d as me.

Start Your Engines...

Welcome everybody to the fucked up world of Ry*n. For privacy reasons I do not want to let some of you complete strangers know my real name.

Thanks for coming by and checking out the fresh blog. I decided it was a good time to start documenting the obscene and obscure shit that goes on in my head to hopefully a) allow someone or a trained professional the opportunity to figure out wtf is wrong with me and b) hopefully give you another opportunity to procrastinate doing your schoolwork or shit around at the office. Other than that, I effing love you all.

The other day at work one of my minions/subordinates had mentioned that there should be a tv show about me. Unfortunately this is not the first time I have heard this. I say unfortunately beacuse I am 5'9 275lbs of constantly sweating, brown-skin Asian... not exactly tv material. Also when people say there should be a tv show about me, that only means one thing..."Ry*n, you are so fucked up and weird that people would be entertained by you." Not exactly something to brag about.

Please stay tuned, I am excited to start having real posts about real topics about real things that actually happen. Put this shit on your RSS feed. (I do not even know what that means but I know that for Tucker Maxx http://www.tuckermax.com/blog.phtml and Jason Fisher http://phonathonblogger.typepad.com/, I click the RSS Feed Button and somehow that shit is in my Outlook EVERY MORNING! So do that for me, and it is guranteed you read every post! Do it!)