with boredom arising here at work.. let's play this game, shall we?

ask me something, anything.

i will you give you my brutally honest answer. (open the comments to view)

go.

pst. keep em comin.. i have three more hours to kill.

it was the last time i spoke with my father. up until 1 a.m. this morning.. i didn't know if he was dead or alive. there have been these subtle.. yet direct signs erupting.. right in front of my face. signs of my father. something urged me to contact him.. and so i did. i have a number given to me by a family friend from a while back. never once did i use it. many times i wanted to.. but for various reasons, i didn't. the grudge i held against him has long been gone. i forgive him for i know of his remorse. people make mistakes, and people do change.

"yu boh sae yo?".. he sounded exactly the same.

"appa".. i prepped myself for this phone call so no emotion was present in my voice.

"n-g??" i could hear his voice crack.

he was stunned, to say the least.. we talked and caught up on each other's lives. moreso mine than his.

as our conversation was ending.. he thanked me for calling.. and proceeded to apologize.. i stopped him. i empathized with the regret he's held onto for so long, i understand we all make mistakes.. and i immediately jumped to something else.. there are just some things that don't need to be verbalized.

it sucks that the rest of my family is so unforgiving.. but i don't hold it against them for my father did a lot of effed up crap. they possess a legitimate reason for being on such ugly terms with him. i suppose i'm a little too forgiving at times.. but he is my father..

and nothing will ever change that..

my asian brothers,

there has been hope for you all along. i was reading this article and was shocked to find out that there are penis-enlarging vacuum devices? wow. what was even a bigger.. "oh my".. was to read that there are penises with a flaccid length of less than 2.7 inches..

anyway. i've always believed that.. it's not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean. rightttt.

forgive me as i am bored and.. sexually frustrated. that is all..

i've been wanting to write about this.. maybe now isn't the best time since i'm swamped. oh, well. forgive me as my brain is flooded with a million different things. i'll peck the keys as each thought proceeds forward for it's all jumbled up right now..

i have never had an "online relationship" nor have i ever met a boyfriend on/through the internet. i know that it exists.. more so than we realize. i can totally see it happening. society tends to frown upon this, but i am a firm believer that meeting someone online is one of the best methods in finding a significant other.. for obvious reasons. but really now.. what better is it than meeting someone at the local bar or a club? (and how is someone like me -- one who rarely goes out.. supposed to meet people?) yeah, i get the whole physical part of it. they say looks is what attracts and personality is what keeps two together.. i don't know, man.. but there's just something about ones words that has its way with me. once you intrigue me, i'm yours.. well.. almost. it's orgasmic when a man uses words such as surreptitious and demagogue.. oh, baby.. seduce me with your consonants and vowels. alright, all kidding aside.. reading someone's (online) journal gives you a deep sense of who they are. chat with someone on a regular basis, and you form a relationship -- whether that be significant or not. even talking to someone without having a clue as to what their physical appearance is like, you find yourself developing a bond with them that was ripened through a white box.

you can ridicule me for saying this.. but you and i know it's true. it may sound lame as you're reading this.. however.. i guarantee you it's happened to all of us (don't deny it),. i can name off an e-crush or two that i've had (and maybe i still do).. but i'll spare you. hah. it's unfortunate that he (they) is (are) miles and miles away. but even if the person were closer.. could it go beyond just words in a box?

okay, okay.. you caught me. it's you. i have fallen madly in love with you..

..now pull down your pants.

read this.. quite an eye opener.. i wrote the following a few months ago about my own mother.. i hope you can all take something from these personal experiences..

an insightful, exquisite, benevolent human being.

my mother.

the woman who carries a full supply of umbrellas in the back seat of her car to hand out, on rainy days, to the homeless folks roaming our city's streets.. the woman who gave up a great paying career and a prestigious title to assist the abandoned elderly of our community.. to help ease their suffering -- something that she is so passionate about. my mother.. the woman who has endured so much.. a lifetime of mishaps. she has manifested the true meaning of "tough love" to me.. which i am now so thankful of. many times i angered myself at the mere thought of her.. what a selfish, ungrateful, conniving little bitch i was. she has stabbed me with cruel words in the past.. never was it done intentionally to hurt me. i caused her so much pain.. yet, she still loved me and tried so hard to have that reciprocated. i always did.. but it was concealed by my pride. my mother.. she has never verbally expressed the love she carries for me, but i always knew it existed. i used to wonder how she could help everyone else out there.. making their days bright with her kind gestures and her warm verbiage.. yet when she looked at me.. it seemed that all i could see was hatred.. but it was me who blocked her out.. it was me who hallucinated all of this..

it sickens me to think about the relationship that we once shared.. or shall i say the lack of relationship. my mother, the woman who continues to do everything and anything to help the world, even though the world has screwed her over repeatedly. her health is deteriorating.. at a rapid pace. my heart is punctured at the sight of the shelves that are lined with her medication. her physical appearance makes it apparent that she is not doing too well.. time and disease -- they are taking it's toll on her. all these opportunities i had in the palms of my hands.. to repair something that only required me to lay aside my pride.. but i was so damn stupid.. i'm doing my best now.. the laughs and conversations that we currently share on a regular basis is just.. divine. i am unable to put it into words.. how i feel. the anger i hold towards myself, the joy she brings to my soul.. the love i have for her.. the desire i so strongly grasp to freeze time......

i cannot emphasize this enough.. repair whatever it is that has significance to you.. pride is just pride.. humiliation is a wonderful thing. remember, time has no mercy.. you never know when it will in fact be too late. hold on.. hold on tight.

i know my mother's time is running out.. we all do. except.. she disregards it because to her, others are more important than her own self.

"everyone wants to go to Heaven, but no one wants to die".. she told me the other day. i chuckled. and turned to catch a glimpse of her smirking.. at this moment i realized that i have discovered the true meaning of happiness.. seeing my mother, with a genuine smile on her face.. this is my true happiness..

i need to engage is some mind blowing sex.. like.. right now.

it's a damn shame that i can't watch porno here at work..  

did anyone else watch the fight on saturday? what a disappointment.. well, first off.. the house that held the ufc party that i attended was that of chris leben's good friend. a bunch of them flew to vegas to watch it live.. $350 a seat. dizam. but the girlfriend stayed in town to host it.. anyway, leben should have won the fight. he effed up by allowing starnes to rest in between when he should have taken him out. we found out yesterday that lieben got fired after this fight. oops. now.. on to houston alexander.. this guy is stacked.. ko'd jardine in what.. 45 seconds? shiet. where'd he come from, anyway? finally.. rampage jackson vs. chuck liddell. i had my money on jackson.. liddell was already beat once by him.. not one doubt in my mind that jackson would prevail once again. however, i did not expect it to be such a lame fight (on liddell's end).. in less than two minutes, the fight is over.. a pride fighter steals the ufc title. superb. i can't even imagine the crap liddell received after this match..

suck out of the week.. i'm in the big blind. 9 2 off.. guy in front of me calls.. one more caller. flop comes.. 9 5 2, two clubs. with a flush draw out there, i shove all in.. he thinks about it and calls.. other dude folds. i flip over my two pair.. and he flips over king 6 of clubs. "red cards" i shouted.. turn comes.. k. i'm still ahead.. river -- another red card, indeed.. but it was a 5.  i would have felt so, so much better if he had hit his flush. can't believe it.. he caught runner runner.

did everyone have a good weekend?

awwwwww.. fooey.. gmail chat is blocked at work now. this sucks..  you guys can still message me on here.. damn it. can't believe they did this.

.. nevermind. i figured it out. =]

that was interesting. apparently i have a variety of readers.. from james bond.. to "the one".. to my very own sister.

i emailed jackie warner last night. it's a damn shame she's in cali. anyway, my infatuation with jackie led me to wonder how much it would cost to train with her. now this would only be temporary as it's just my scheme to make her fall madly in love with me. her going rate? $400 an hour. excuse me, but she better perform some damn lipo on me for that kind of money. my hopes and dreams are now shattered.. sigh. hold me.

per the requests of some of you.. i shall start posting more of my poker stories, plays, and tips. it seems like hold 'em is now the mainstream sport. tons of celebrities are into it.. not only that.. but your everyday jane is now an avid player. why? because your average joe blow can become the next tuan le or daniel negreanu. tuan, which by the way.. has made over 4 million in poker. and he's only what? in his mid twenties if i recall correctly. shiet. so basically, anyone.. yes, that's including you.. can become the next michael jordan of poker. win the superbowl (wsop -- world series of poker) and walk away with 12 million as jamie gold did last year. not only that.. imagine what you'd be raking in off the endorsements. so yes, stay tuned for the bad beats i suffer.. and stupid plays i make. i recently started to get into no limit but will still play limit occasionally. feel free to share any of your stories/experience. we can comfort each other as our rockets never hold up and how the chaser ends up catching the only card left in the deck to beat your flush. also.. keep an eye out for me as i make it big in the poker world.. (yeah, right)..

who are you?

i wrote this entry last year. with memorial day just around the corner, i want to manifest the true meaning of this particular holiday.. for me.

george.

there aren't many people i look up to. in fact, i can use 3 of the 5 phalanges dangling off my left hand to count them all right now.

my parents' unending, brutal nagging and tempting bribes forced me to abide, and accompany them to the sunday services. there.. i would see him. huge brown, oval eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest depths of the ocean. alongside him would be his mother.. young and fatigued. you could see her aging with every passing week.. the anguish in her face made it apparent that she was exhaustively worn out. she had the most beautiful hair.. shiny and vibrant.. straight out of a pantene pro-v commercial..

"ahhhhhhh" .. it was a scream defined by pure agony. the pastor would continue his perpetual sermon..for this occurred almost every sunday. he was in pain you know.. his little body tormented by this illness... ever since i knew george, hehad been confined to that wheelchair. a prisoner in his own world. his body was like that of a newborn's.. fragile and diminished.

"hey george".. i would greet him as cheerfully as i possibly could. in away, i started to enjoy my sunday trips to church because i got to see this extraordinary kid.. but it was a very lugubrious sight.. the sunken in face, infested with these dark circles made him difficult to look at.. his body was deteriorating.. a lot of the younger children were afraid of him.. they didn't know any better. i know he knew he was"different".. but it didn't phase him.. not one bit. he was so mature..

"hi, angie noona.." george whispered with all his might as his eyes were focused on the kids running around outside. if he wanted to talk, i responded. but i never knew what to say.. so i refrained from initiating a conversation. what was i supposed to say.. i liked beingin his presence. we would just sit there.. he was great company.. even though we exchanged very few words.

"i want to see my daddy.." he would faintly utter while looking in the opposite direction to avoid eye contact.. never once did i hear him complain about anything. not the pain.. not wanting to be "normal".. nada. the only thing this child wanted more than anything was to see his dad again..

you see.. george was diagnosed with brain cancer when he was about one. an inoperable tumor robbed him of his chance to live..he however.. was a fighter.. astonishing medical professionals, he fought with every ounce of energy that was left in that diminutive bodyof his. george was like.. the little engine that could.

thanksgiving eve.. everyone gathered around the splendiferous table. it was cluttered with various dishes that the women of our congregation had prepared all day. george was to be unseen.. upstairs in his toy flooded room he laid helplessly. a feeding tube implanted into his discolored neck.. his eyes, glued to the ceiling. at this point george's jaw had entirely shut down.. restricting him from opening those tiny, thin lips. i sat on the side of the bed.. he knew i was there.. but couldn't respond. i remember this day like it was yesterday.. because.. this is the one time in my life where i prayed the absolute hardest that i possibly could. i shoved every negative thought.. every negative energy that i had inmy body aside.. i shut my eyes as tightly as i could.. and clenched my fists until my nails were engraved in my palms.. "God.. please.. help him.. please.. he's just a child.."

george made it past that thanksgiving. his destiny however, was irrevocable for it was already foreordained.. the following year, on memorial day his body inevitably gave up. we as a nation gather on this day to honor and remember this country's heroes, the fallen soldiers. me.. i honor my hero.. george.