absolutangel64

Two random strangers rode by me on their bikes today, and both decided to give me the “hey baby” as they passed. Both happened on two separate occassions, many hours apart. These guys had to be homeless or something–or at the very least, unemployed and illegally in the country–and typically, the guys who cat call at me usually are homeless, illegal immigrants.

It makes me wonder: does it ever work? Has the drive-by sexual harassment actually gotten someone’s positive attention, and resulted in a meaningful relationship? Or do these guys just do it to be annoying and ruin someone’s day?

I don’t really get it…but then again, I’m a basket case and don’t trust guys who take the initiative to put moves on me. I always end up believing that they’re all rapists who are registered on some sex-offender website. I mean, one night I was at the Ivy and a then unattached Brad Pitt came up to me and asked me for my number–but I mistook him for a guy I saw on America’s Most Wanted and kicked him in the groin…and then I did a reenactment of the scene in the movie “Troy” when Achilles drags Hector’s body through the sand, except in this version I dragged Brad Pitt through a pile of my own feces…

But I digress…

How come only raggedy homeless people say “hey baby” to me? What is it about me that makes them think I’ll reciprocate their advances? Granted, I dress pretty badly and I haven’t been taking care of myself much lately…but one would think that by wearing a USC sweater over my tattered sweats would at least give me some sort of social leverage: the homeless can’t say hi to me, but all desistute alcoholics living paycheck to paycheck can.

Yes, that’s me throwing up.

It reminds me of a time I had gotten off work and a van full of dirty teenagers opened their window and shouted, “Hey baby, wanna watch the Super Bowl with us?” I’m not sure if I ran away or threw something, but I just remember wondering if they would have picked me up if I had actually said “yes.” Wouldn’t that be terrifying? And I had horrible gas that day, so I’m pretty sure one of those dirty teens would have died in the end.

I guess I’m just asking where these guys get the balls to say things like that to a random woman who is totally out of their league (yes, I can say that about myself). And do they think they have even a remote chance that it’ll work?

Note: That’s unfortunately the best I can do as far as a conclusion goes…as I am falling asleep as I type. Apologies.

Why are there a billion new links in the Feedback Log now? Okay, there are really just five new ones, but who cares–why are they there? What’s this “Invites” thing? “Memories”? “Nudges”? Educate me, folks, because I have zero in all categories.

Is this Xanga’s lame way of getting into the MySpace thing? Because it’s not working. I don’t know anyone who uses their Xanga to keep track of how many friends they have, or to make new connections. Then again, I don’t currently know anyone who uses their Xanga, period. Thus the probability of someone using their journal to make new friends seems slim to nonexistent.

What Phobia Are You (Zoo only)

Zoophobias

• Ailurophobia, Elurophobia, Felinophobia, Galeophobia, Gatophobia — Dislike of cats.

• Apiphobia, Melissophobia — Fear of bees.

• Alektorophobia – Fear of chickens.

• Arachnophobia — Fear of arachnids, usually specific to spiders.

• Cynophobia — Fear of dogs or of rabies.

• Entomophobia, Insectophobia — Fear of insects. (Also the orchid genus Entomophobia)

• Equinophobia, Hippophobia — Fear of horses.

• Helminthophobia — Fear of being infested with worms.

• Herpetophobia — Fear of reptiles

• Ichthyophobia — Fear of fish.

• Mottephobia — Aversion to moths and butterflies.

• Musophobia, Murophobia, Suriphobia — Fear of mice and/or rats.

• Myrmecophobia — Fear of ants.

• Ophidiophobia — Fear of snakes.

• Ornithophobia — Fear of birds.

• Olfactophobia, Osmophobia — Fear of smells.

• Scoleciphobia, Vermiphobia — Fear of worms.

• Zoophobia — Fear of animals.

I didn’t win. Even after spending my entire Saturday prepping, arguing, prepping, and then arguing some more I didn’t win. I care–not about winning–but you’d think that when you’re stuck at school until 11PM for a competition no one knows or cares about…you’d get at least some kind of reward.

Instead, I got the “you are one of four finalists out off 300 students” and “you make oral arguments look easy” speech. Yes, the judges liked my use of the facts, how I was able to recite rules, and how I referred to exact pages and sentences thoughout the entire case record. And they really liked how I didn’t flinch once when they were berating and mocking me (I have to give the judges credit because they were really making me feel like sh*t at one point).

But that’s just not enough. What good is being one of the top orators–it’s much better to be THE top orator in the 1L class. I guess they didn’t like my bitch approach…which is kind of funny because that’s what got me to the top in the first place. I guess everyone has a preference…

Oh well. I had fun. If this is what being a lawyer is, then I’m all for it. I can’t wait. Give me more opportunities to battle it out in front of a judge…

I should try out for Moot Court next year…

The second round was today, and tonight is the final round of competition. And guess what? I made it. Yay…so I have two hours to clean up my argument, and then come up with an argument for the opposing side. Yes…THE OPPOSING SIDE. I get to be both Appellant and Respondent—which is gay because I’ve been kicking my ass trying to come up with concrete evidence supporting the Appellant’s claims…and now I have to poke holes in them. These people are sick. So…so…sick.

Why are we doing two rounds in a day? And why are they six hours apart from each other? Why couldn’t we just battle it out between the four finalists right then and there? Like a Battle Royale, but with words and rules. Then again…there are four different cases, and we’re technically battling ourselves, and the judges are just checking to see how we hold up under pressure.

As bitter as I am about public speaking, I really like arguing. No, I LOVE ARGUING. I get so defensive when I feel like I’m being attacked, and I just turn on the “b*tch, you best believe” thing. It’s so awesome. I was totally abrasive and throwing the elitist atitude right back at the judges—and my writing professor, who got to watch us argue during the preliminary rounds, was telling me that that’s the best way to make a case. Be firm, but respectful…I think I can get the hang of this.

I don’t really care if I win or lose—that’s been my entire attitude throughout this whole, random-ass, fall-into-my-lap competition. What matters is getting that nod of respect from my peers, and the stink eye from those bitches who just hate the fact that I kicked their ass.

Damn me.

My friend called and told me I won the first round of the oral advocacy competition…so I get to wake up at 8:00 tomorrow and go to school on a Saturday to participate in the next round. ARGH.

Why so bitter? Because I didn’t want to win the first round in the first place. The whole thing was just so ridiculous. First we had to write an appellate brief on whatever side we were taking on a particular case…and then we were all forced to participate in this so-called “first round” by dressing up in our suits, standing in front of two professors pretending to be judges, and getting berated and verbally abused by them as they try to poke holes in our argument. I was the seventh person to go, and the six people before me all looked like they were going to cry after they finished. I was thinking, “Oh…f*ck me I’m going to get killed!” So what happens? My defense mechanism automatically kicks in and I start giving the judges attitude when they ask me questions. And you know what? THEY LIKED THAT. Instead of getting offended, they deemed me the winner in my class. F*CK.

And what’s worse was we all had the opportunity to bow out before any winner was chosen—we just had to give notice by Wednesday before the actual arguments took place. I, thinking that I wasn’t going to win, didn’t decline a damn thing because I thought I didn’t have to! And now that’s totally bit me in the ass. It’s freaking 9:15 PM and I have to read 5 sh*t cases, prepare my rules, and sacrifice some babies in the hopes that I don’t get my ass beat this time around….because it’s going to be 15 minutes of me being a big, big, b*tch.

The only good thing about this is I get to sh*t on this girl who thought she did really well. She’s a stupid whore. And she got OWNED.

I don’t know–I think some kids are just asking to get raped by putting themselves on websites like these:

http://www.xanga.com/SiMPLY_HoT_ASianS/465444757/item.html

How this site got on Featured Content, I don’t know–all I can tell is that the contestants for hot Asians are all under the age of thirteen. For example:

A french manicure and a fake cute pout doesn’t hide the fact that you can’t even watch PG-13 movies without your parents.

This kid thinks having a stud in his ear will help him melt off all that baby fat on his face.

Another pouty Asian girl thingy. I don’t understand what the deal is with the finger on the cheek, but it must be some sort of age defying move that I haven’t heard of.

This child’s game plan is to lean back in his chair like a “stereotypical gangsta.” He is going to win for sure–and then he can tell all his playmates at elementary school that he won hottest Asian.

Where do I even begin? It’s almost unfair to rag on this blog because it’s run by infants–but there is some sort of wrongness to this site that makes me want to say mean things about it. Mean, truthful things that you’re all thinking about but don’t care enough to actually say them.

I guess I’m kind of bothered by the fact that these kids are striving to be the hottest Asian. I don’t really know what goes on in the minds of today’s younger generations, but when I was that age I don’t think my primary concern was so much being the hottest Asian as it was somehow making the transition from white tennis shoes to black tennis shoes–as in, my appearance meant nothing back then. But who knows? If these girls can get wear make-up and get their nails done, and these boys can pierce their ears, all of which they have done before reaching the age of even considering a driving permit, and with their parents’ permission…who am I to judge?

(Oh wait…I’m the owner of this blog and I can do whatever I want–like judge kids and their parents for being losers.)

I bet a dirty, wrinkly pedophile came up with this site to find some fresh meat to play with. What better way to prey on those with low self-esteem than to invite them to a blog that will give them the popularity and attention they lack at home and school? And how come no one notices what these kids do while they’re on the computer? I mean, if I were a parent I’d definitely know what my child was doing on the computer—mainly because my “computer” is going to be made of cardboard and tape. And you can’t do sh*t with something like that.

Don’t forget to cast your vote.

The Adam Corolla radio show is horrible. Seriously horrible. I don’t even know why or how he ended up being the person to fill Howard Stern’s shoes, but I obviously don’t see the magic Clear Channel sees.

For instance–one of his first shows was about awarding the best pizza toppings. I’m not joking…and I think pepperoni won.

And then he talked about people who play the lottery—gave some sort of speech about how they’re losers or something. I say “or something” because I ended up turning my radio off once my ears started filling with puss and feces.

And what the hell is Rachel Perry doing as his side-kick? She’s a VH-1 countdown host–she reads cue cards and narrates for “Awesomely Bad.” She doesn’t seem capable of impromptu humor.

His show isn’t entertaining, and not because he’s not Howard Stern. He just doesn’t make his topics sound interesting. It’s become increasingly painful to drive to school in the morning when I’m reduced to either listening to him or nothing. And I have often chosen the latter.

You know what would be great? Since he’s the voice of Spanky on “Drawn Together,” he should do his show as Spanky. Seriously. He should start talking about Foxxy Love, Clara, Ling-Ling…all of them. And they should make appearances. Albeit “Drawn Together” hasn’t been very entertaining this season either, but listening to it on the radio would be a million times better than listening to Adam Corolla and his band of Italian misfits from Jersey.

Chloe Dao Wins Project Runway!

She was my favorite, next to Nick–but he got eliminated after Zulema stole his model and left him with her marshmallow model. Oh well! Just as long as Santino didn’t win…he was such an ass.

I am so, so inspired!

You can’t spell “slaughter” without “laughter”.