If you have virtual sex with a virtual woman, who's not your significant other, is that virtually cheating?

Shaky Love Notes

My Dear Spicy Tuna Roll,

It's been awhile since I last waffed in the fresh scent of your womanhood. Far too long. Where have the days gone, when we used to fall asleep under the big oak tree in your backyard, waking up to the itchy feeling of ants crawling all over our warm flesh. I miss the way you used to play with your hair, the way you played with my hair, the way you walked, the way I walked, the way we walked together. I still have the pair of acid washed jeans you left at my place the last time I saw you. Occasionally I smell them to remind me of the bittersweet memories. Why won't you love me? Is it my fascination with your scent? I can change that. I really can.

Come back to me my sweet honeydew bubbletea. I will show you how much I've grown, how much I've learned, how much I've missed you. A world without you depresses the hell out of me. I swear to God it does.

Your Penisbutter Cup,
Shaky

Sad Sunday Songs

Sundays are always so gloomy, so I've decided to post gloomy song lyrics. Why? Because I like to spread malice and depression all over the world. Depression, the new drug in town. Pretty addictive isn't it?

Dubstar - Ghost

Riverside on Friday night
My friends remain
They say your name
But my guard has gone
Put a brave face on
And make a smile you could hear
But you're not here
I'll trace the whole world to find your ghost
But wherever I go I'm alone

There's no-one else
Still living by myself
Yes I'm eating well
I still cook for two you know
And the bathroom's clean
Windows let the sun shine in
My complexion's clear
But you're not here
An empty bedroom
A silent phone
Wherever I go I'm alone
Wherever I go I'm alone

A stranger's face, a different place
I see you everywhere
It's funny how time does nothing
and doesn't seem to care

But..
I'll trace the whole world to find your ghost
Who could understand me now that you're gone
I'll leave the bedroom
Unhook the phone
But wherever I go I'm alone
I'll trace the whole world to find your ghost
But wherever I go I'm alone

Oh the gods have shined upon me once again. I was reading through my FHM magazine today, which features Brooke Burke, and decided to go do a search for her Playboy photo shoot online. For anyone who's not "accustomed" to these types of "searches". Rarely do you ever find a site that has a celebrity's nude photo shoots available without some sort of price. It would seem though, that today, all the planets were aligned. My prayers have been answered.

And now, the unveiling! Spank me now, thank me later.

http://www.111brookeburke.com/site/index.htm

It's been awhile hasn't it? Inbetween applying for jobs, working on my contracts, the holidays, and trying to stop my anus from bleeding, I really don't know where all the time went. Up until a few nights ago I never really missed this blog. Sugah reminded me that it was good way to waste time, ramble, and that I had people who still wanted to read my drivel. I never thought people cared. Will wonders never cease.

The holidays were kind to me this year. I got almost everything I wanted for Christmas. Still waiting for my velour tracksuit but I suppose that can wait. Which reminds me, was watching Blind Date the other day and wondered if people really like doing the dinner & dancing type of romancing. That rhymed. I didn't mean it to. Regardless, my ideal date involves a pretty lady, a home cooked meal, a velour tracksuit, a game of scrabble/connect four, a rented movie, and some ky jelly. I'd probably greet her at the door wearing it. The velour suit, not the ky jelly. I'm at home, why shouldn't I be comfortable? It'd be awesome if she showed up in a velour tracksuit too. It'd show that we were on the same wavelength.

Oh velour tracksuit, I will have you yet!

So here I am. There you are. We all live in a giant bucket. I will try and keep everyone abreast of my life. Til then, enjoy this little cartoon. --> rejected

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escapism

Sometimes I just want to take off and go somewhere far away where no one knew my name. If strangers asked I could tell them, "My name is Sven Chang. I'm from Sweden and my only goal in life is to save all the starving children in the world." I'd backpack from city to city ironing people's clothes for money to eat. Somewhere along the way I'd meet a lonely princess who was attracted to my hobo image and she'd treat me to a buffet in her castle and propose to me. I'd disappoint and tell her I have a hobo girlfriend back in North America waiting for me. She would sob gently but she would understand that love isn't always reciprocated. That she couldn't make me love her but she was happy just to experience that one moment of love she had for someone else. I would tell her, "You'll find someone much better than me one day. Just you wait and see!". She would reply, "You are such a noble hobo. I want to one day meet someone just like you. Take this royal crest and if one day that girl ever breaks your heart, promise me you'll come back and be my prince." I blush and thank her for her hospitality. I leave her castle and promptly sell the royal crest for enough money to feed me for another few weeks. After all, we all know love makes no promises. She'll probably meet someone who'd make her happier down the road anyways.

I'd venture for another several years before returning to North America. To find that my friends have forgotten me, my family has turned my room into a karaoke entertainment room, and my girlfriend had left North America searching for me. I'd resocialize myself to the ways of my country and wait patiently the return of my girlfriend. If the day came around when she did return and she still needed me in her life, we could share our wonderful experiences apart from each other. By that time maybe we'd be ready to accept our sad fate in this mundane society. Or maybe we wouldn't and we'd venture off again. Far away. This time together. Possibly forever.

Got Punk?

A Few Late Night Random Thoughts

Did you know that they can graft pig testicles to the back of a mouse and have it grow to produce sperm? Tell me you're not impressed. I dare you. Just think of the possibilities! If they could graft a penis to my back, I could possibly fulfill my dream of being the meat between a Jessica Alba/Shannyn Sossamon sex sandwich. I could also invent the piggy-back sex position! However, is all this worth having another man's penis touching your back? I'll have to rethink this and get back to you.

I'm listening to "Ready To Go" by Republica. This song makes me want to run down the streets screaming at the top of my lungs (as manly as possible).

Sometimes I seriously want to just pack one of those hobo bags (the one with a pouch attached to a stick) and leave my life without a word to anyone. I sometimes think I'm not appreciated enough and it would serve those bastards right if I just got up and left. Quite selfish, I know. Everyone indulges in escapism in one form or another.

There is no such thing as a relationship where both people love each other equally. I hope someone proves me wrong.

I'm going to donate the dozens of toys I've gotten from ex-girlfriends to some charity this winter. I think it'd be nice to pass on years of torturous memories to little kids this upcoming christmas. Maybe I'll attach little notes to each toy à la Chinese fortune cookies, to educate the boys and girls about relationships. Notes like; "never date a girl who weighs more than you do" or "avoid girls who have 5 older brothers" and "if you're going to tell a girl you love her to get her in bed, don't tell her you lied afterwards". It's time I started giving back to my community.

* * * WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? * * *

GEORGE W. BUSH: I don't think I should have to answer that question. But I will. He is an evil-doer with evil intentions. We have clear evidence to support our view, though it is top secret. We will track him down, bring him to justice, and bomb and destroy every chicken farm, every henhouse, every nest, until chickens are no longer a threat to our way of life.

AL GORE: I invented the chicken. I invented the road. Therefore, the chicken crossing the road represented the application of these two different functions of government in a new, reinvented way designed to bring greater services to the American people.

PAT BUCHANAN: To steal a job from a decent, hardworking American.

RUSH LIMBAUGH: I don't know why the chicken crossed the road, but I'll bet it was getting a government grant to cross the road, and I'll bet someone out there is already forming a support group to help chickens with crossing-the-road syndrome. Can you believe this? How much more of this can real Americans take? Chickens crossing the road paid for by their tax dollars, and when I say tax dollars, I'm talking about your money, money the government took from you to build roads for chickens to cross.

MARTHA STEWART: If the chicken crossed the road on my property, I would be fully justified in blocking its exit until the local authorities could arrive to arrest it for trespassing. I am a private person and should not have to be subjected to the "innocent mistakes" of common chickens.

JERRY FALWELL: Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken was going to the "other side." That's what "they" call it - the "other side." Yes, my friends, that ! chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken, you will become gay too. I say we boycott all chickens until we sort out this abomination that the liberal media whitewashes with seemingly harmless phrases like "the other side."

DR. SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, But why it crossed, I've not been told!

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die. In the rain. Alone.

GRANDPA: In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.

BARBARA WALTERS: Isn't that interesting? In a few moments we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heartwarming story of how it overcame a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.

ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

KARL MARX: It was a historical inevitability.

SADDAM HUSSEIN: This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.

VOLTAIRE: I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will defend to the death its right to do it.

RONALD REAGAN: What chicken?

CAPTAIN KIRK: To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.

FREUD: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2003, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook---and Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.

EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?

BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken please?

LOUIS FARRAKHAN: The Road, you will see, represents the black man. The chicken crossed the "black man" in order to Trample him and keep him down.

TRIAL LAWYER: Said Chicken's civil rights were infringed by the State, by building a thoroughfare in a negligent manner and in a place known to be attractive to chickens, resulting in said chickens severe and traumatic injuries. Therefore, the attached suit for $30 million dollars (40% contingency fee) has been filed against the State and the Taxpayers thereof. Triple punitive damages will be sought.

THE BIBLE: And God came down from the heavens, and He said Unto the chicken, "Thou shalt cross the road" and the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.

COLONEL SANDERS: I missed one?