twenty-three anniversaries.

having my birthday coincidentally falling on st. patrick's day plus hand-me-down dr. seuss books from next-door neighbors and my older sister meant that everyone had to eat green eggs and ham with mint chocolate ice cream as the dessert on this day. for some reason, i was trying to remember what went down on these birthdays today and well...here are the effects of my alcohol consumption throughout the years since there are only a few that i remember.

1986 - on this monday around four in the afternoon, the world had received another in-your-face shit-talker who executes this trait dead-on. awesome.

1992 - i had received my third consecutive "student of the month" award from my kindergarten teacher and had my photo hung up on the wall along with my previous ones. regardless of how i am, i did not sleep with my teacher for this purpose.

1998 - in the sixth grade, one of my late grandmother's sister had passed on. her grandkids from california came and i didn't recognize who they were from the last time i met them. i could not believe i was checking out how hot they were. second cousins don't count, right?

2004 - drove through cornfields the day before my birthday, intoxicated. got arrested the next day and smiled when taking my mugshots. when seeing my profile, i asked the cop who i knew if i could re-take the photo and if they could capture my better side (right).

2007 - went to shokudo, our party sat in the private room, did a lot of beer bongs. had a 151-candle shot on my cake and threw up all over the men's bathroom. for those of you who believe in karma? i've been working there shortly after this episode.

interesting that i can only remember one-fifth-ish of what is supposed to be one's most memorable moments.

changing the subject here, but i'm sure everyone had had one embarrasing experience sometime in their lives. my korean manager andrew, in an angry tone of voice had said, "open your mouth!" i turned around and i just stared at him, ready to get on my knees after i had realized the reality of this situation (sorry shunge). but only to find out that he was not talking to me but rather a co-worker. i guess i should be ever hopeful...

joudan of the day.

here's a joke that's an oldie but goodie. i heard it from a friend's mother. just try to imagine a young, pleasant alcoholic who amuses herself easily through jokes that she invented herself during impromptu moments.

what do you call a hairy japanese girl?

shibushi.

this next paragraph though, is not a joke. see, i am an oral hygiene freak. when i see others who aren't maintaining themselves in this department, i really do get this dirty feeling equivalent of sleeping on your bed for the night right after you've worked out at the gym for two or three hours. so the other night, the bf slept after i did, which is usually the case most of the time since i'm a morning person. i always have to remind him to brush his teeth before he sleeps, and my goal that i hope to accomplish within the next year is to get him to floss three times a week. the next day, we headed to the north shore and i can tell that he had not brushed his teeth. i said, "you didn't brush your teeth last night, did you?" he replies, "so what?" in the most cutest, child-like voice with a confused-slash-puppy dog guilt look on his face. i could not stop laughing but at the same time, made me even more apprehensive of me kissing him.

my cooking and baking episodes are slowly coming into a halt as i am more focused on completing my work for this first summer sessions's course. my addiction to caffeine in it's most pure, dark and strong flavor in an iced coffee is showing signs of built-up tolerance as i am now ordering the largest size at any starbucks where i study at. oh great, another diuretic in my body. at least you can't smell alcohol when you're peeing, as opposed to coffee.

i'm nemui. oyasumi.

the perfect 'house'band.

i think it's because summer has started and i don't have much to do besides attend my one class in the early morning and work on selected days of the week, but i've been kicking it with betty crocker, martha stewart, and top asian chefs recently. i don't mean watching them on tv, but somehow been posessed by these people.

because of my student income, i wouldn't say i 'remodeled' my apartment but did re-arrange things to make it appear even more roomy as well as mounting shelves along my walls. i've been baking banana breads as well as sweet potato breads for the purpose of having one slice with a glass of soymilk for breakfast, simply because it's cheaper than buying japanese bread at don quijote twice/three times a week. chicken hekka, yook gae jang, pork squash, spaghetti, portuguese bean soup, as well as fried korean honey chicken were the menu items i had for just the past two weeks. and now, with all the homemade side dishes that i have fermented and ready to be used today; bibimbap....



...i just have this thing where i thoroughly enjoy cooking for others' enjoyment. i am also the definite neat freak and like my space, especially kitchen and bathrooms, tidy as fuck. i can spend the whole day in williams-sonoma, and the next day in an ikea home shop. i don't mean to put myself on a pedestal, but damn i would make the good house husband. if only i could do this for a living and have free access to unlimited new york times crossword puzzles and beer on tap. this time, i'm not being sarcastic...

that other fag.

fag is such a strong, prejudicial word anyone can use especially for us homos to say. that is why i have decided to use that word within my title to a little confused co-worker named kenny.

each day i have to work with him makes me want to punch him in his vas deferens, tie it around his neck, and hang him from our attic in the kitchen before i send him through the jet conveyor belt. i don't mind others who engage in shit talk about me. i think it's understandable since i come off as a hard bitch and it's either you like my sarcastic ways or not. but this little faggy is claiming that i am trying to get with another one of our gay co-workers, when in reality it is obvious that kenny is the one checking him out. very high school, no, middle school, i know. i just don't get why he does not seem to think that there should be no reason for me to be irritated of him. so if you're reading this;

dear kenny,
i've seen haein given you a hair straightener today at work, which shows how long it takes for you to get ready. i also realized that when you greet other female co-workers at work, you are overly excited while giving them a big, tight hug like normal straight boys do. your guy friends tend to be nothing short of men who posess female characteristics or alien immigrants who don't understand one word you're saying, which is probably why they can tolerate you. but the ugly things that i would like to point out about you are your poorly side-combed hair that i can't approve of, your very irritating two-face personality, and your fucking shoes. might i suggest coming out of this closet that you have been hiding in for the past years since this may help explain to others why you are this way? at least by doing so, people can see the real 'you' instead of me, as well as others, having to plan some scheme to drag you out of this mother fucking closet. perhaps maybe, the times have changed since straight boys are now getting involved in gossip-talk with the girls instead of...well, being a man.

yours truly,
chad

x-men. ohhh yeah.

i'm sure most of you know that me and sci-fi do not get along. comic-inspired movies falls right under that. so when shunge and i headed out to the west side the other day and proposed that we watch x-men or star trek, it pretty much meant that i had to hide my discontentment through clenched teeth and somehow fall asleep at the perfect opportunity. we ended up seeing x-men, and boy let me tell you that my eyes weren't the only things that became large. see, i'm not much of a person who gets amused easily through surprises. i'm very judgemental and i have a horrible tendency to try and figure out someone or something out. after reaching a feasible conclusion, i will try to prove my intuitions correct (which i am, most of the time) and thus, leaving me not surprised. but if you must, at least notify me when something big comes my way. that way, i can be prepared to do my open-eye and jaw shocking look while holding my astroglide lubricant in one hand.

yes, i am talking about the actors. now first off, hugh jackman had always caught my attention. i still hold my statement true that caucasians, for the most part, do not usually get me going but hugh is one of my semi-exceptions. ryan reynolds was probably the hugest "ohmahgaw's" that i haven't said in a while; when the hell did he attached those ripped muscles on to his body? and then, the kaboom...daniel henney...i knew watching korean dramas would someday pay off. this half-british and half-korean mother fucker...i can't even finish typing this sentence without controlling my heart rate. just go and see the movie and you'll know what i'm talking about. unfortunately, the yahoo database does not include pictures of him shirtless with the hairstyle that i approve of, so i must settle for these...









...if you need to get a hold of me, just call; my phone is on vibrate mode.

types of stands: hand, band, and one-night.

i'm not much of a person who brags about themself, but as far as acquaintances goes, i consider to have a lot of them and have made a lot of friends who all posess different personalities. to prove this attribute to be true, i probably can credit this due to my many one-night stands that i have had so far.

most people think that people who partake in one-night stands seem to have no care of defiling themselves and that they have no regards for self-respect. i have to disagree with this concept, as one can learn how to share and establish potentially great relationships. so what happens to those one night stands that you have proven to be unsuccessful for future purposes? i have discovered that doing these sorts of things in hawaii definitely eliminates any possiblities of not bumping into one another, such as tonight's shift at the restaurant where i seen "him." so if "you" happen to read this, i still hold my story true that i can't sleep with "you" since i become traumatize whenever i see an uncircumcised penis, which reminds me of when i had gotten raped with one that gave me severe rash.

but take a larger city for example, like metropolitan osaka or seoul. you see, this is one reason why i like asia so much; the numerous brothels that they have that are open twenty-four hours a day, complete with clean shower and other facilities. my first experience was in tokyo's shinjuku ni-chome, supposedly japan's largest gay district. i have discovered a place called '24' and had my first encounter with another country's national. now my type is asian, specifically japanese and korean men, so to have visited these two countries i consider myself to be lucky. so some guy decides he wants to have fun with me and showed me into a room. they way he led me by holding my wrist in a tight manner had made given me this excitement necessary for great sex. but to my surprise, most japanese likes their shit gentle. who doesn't want someone to throw you around in an erotic way? so after what was comparable of a curious pre-adoloscent who just came out of a sexual education course, i decided to take matters into my own hand and let him know what's up and the correct way to do things.

it was amazing. the perspiration on both of our bodies and the smell of man had sent me into euphoria. it had seem like we were at it for a while, that was until he had aided me with my orgasm. it was almost as if all the effort that i had put into that was a waste since he had sort of interrupted me in the middle of my orgasm by stopping whatever he was doing to make me reach this point. i thought, fine, he just doesn't know what feels good for me. an hour or two later, a different guy. and guess what, same mother-fucking thing.

i decided to do some research on why this is, so i tuned into some japanese porn. and boy does that explain everything. it's kind of like a karate kid movie; a quick ending that leaves you with many open-ended questions that can't be answered. unless if they had tried to hold a crane position that probably would have made me feel really great, i was almost never satisfied with asian sex. and for crying out loud, don't be afraid to scream and groan; otherwise you're giving me the impression that i suck at what i do, you punku assu bicchu....

how omoshiroi.

so the other day i had a few drinks with my cousin out on the west side at a restaurant/bar called nancy's in waipio gentry. we were playing darts and enjoying our thirty some odd minute game when a group of people walked in. as soon as i saw the sight of their fanny-packs that were wrapped around their waists, i knew that they had plans to take over our board in order for them to use for their tournament (?). now, i hate darts, so this was a good thing for me. i don't like having to be interrupted while i'm sipping my beer just to throw three darts at certain numbers and its sections.

so of course they were warming-up with the board that was next to ours, and you could just sense that our presence were some what of a nuisance for them. here's this forty something year old japanese man whose every word had to have been "fuck" or "shit", this mid/late-twenties guy who still thinks that the 1990's 'buya' hairstyle still exists, and this tita-for-an-a woman wearing a spaghetti strap with no bra with her black and white hair that i can only imagine smells like an ashtray. chances are, no, i'll guarantee to you, that these people were single; talking about how wasted they have gotten the other night and how "hurtten they was"...ugh, so sad.

but getting back to my story, these individuals take this dart game so seriously. as they were entering their information on the dart board, the lady was complaining that her handicap had improved and demanded that it should be adjusted. handicap....in darts....right....what, you've decided to take that finger out of your ass which in turn, improved the way how you release a dart? so whatever, it got adjusted and she throws. she hit two bulls-eyes as well as some other necessary section and she walks past the line of men receiving hi-fives or knuckle-to-knuckle. i mean, of course right, according to her she cut down on masturbating so it's expected that she does good.

the next guy was the japanese mid-ager. he doesn't throw as well, even after visualizing his target before his throws by limping his wrists like that chinese good luck cat that they have in restaurants and businesses. now he's sort of angry of what he had shot, and blamed it on the fact that he had too much to drink the other night. okay look, first of all, you never should blame alcohol for anything. ever. so you feel like shit the next morning; that's not alcohol that's making you feel that way, it's her bitchy relative ethanal that's within you. so the simple, and most logical solution for one to do is drink a little more. you don't just throw in the towel after one rough night. but most important, especially in this poor bachelor's (life-long, for sure) case, alcohol will probably be there for you everytime you feel that two hands are just not enough.

so i've had enough of this scene by now. i wasn't really comfortable being in this atmosphere. usually, i'd drink more just so that i can some how phase whatever i don't want to see/feel/experience out of my head. but this was just impossible, since my tokyo iced tea seemed to have been made in taiwan. if there's three things one person should never go cheap on, they are knives, spas, and any substance (illegal or not) that provides you some sort of high or relief.

freewrite.

owari-fucking-mashita. that's right; good bye spring 2009, forever. ugh. i'm pretty sure my cumulative gpa will plummet to the ground in about a week or so from now, but nothing beats the alcohol that i have drank/am drinking now that had been deprived from me due to this semester.

the joy of sleeping in tomorrow. i'll probably wake up early since i'm a morning person, but the only thing that i have to get ready for the day is to put on my gym clothes and hit the cardio machines and free weights. the hardest decision that i think i will have to make would be between lying on some beach or enjoying a refreshing cocktail. hell, i could do both; my summer vacay has started. although it's only a week long, you bet your ass i'll make the most of it.

like an idiot, i did not put in my request-offs for work in time in order for me to free up my whole next week. in other words, no week-long trips to elsewhere. the closest thing to japan's nomihoudai (all-you-can drink) would be waikiki's booze cruise, but as most of us twenty-three year old people know, drinking with under-agers is never something to look forward to. getting completely obliterated is fine with me, as long as your hysterical that is. i don't buy bullshit such as pretending that you're drunk, or the "look at me and give me the unnecessary attention that i've been craving for" gig.

i don't know if it's because i'm getting older, but i find my time thoroughly enjoying when spending time by myself or with shunge. i've always enjoyed spending time by myself, maybe because daydream way too often. but riding my bicycle along honolulu's side streets while listening to my hundred-some odd illegally downloaded songs on my iphone really makes me appreciate almost everything in life. well then, it's no surprise that i'm thinking of packing a cooler enough to fit a six-pack, climbing down the cliff walls of makapu'u light house, sitting in one of its tidepools, and hope to try and lose myself in my own ideal world that i have created so long ago. and you know what, fishing at night near hau'ula with the possibility of laying myself to sleep there overnight doesn't sound like a bad idea either.

oahu has become so much of a bore for me. i want to have the option of having a cup of strong coffee at a twenty-four hour cafe while listening to some open-mic musician trying to set his/her foundation towards a potential career before heading over to a latin dance club to salsa with completely hot and lightly perspiring strangers before calling it a night at my window-wall penthouse suite. or for that matter, any nighttime playground where the majority of the people aren't mokes drinking a heineken, waiting to jump at the opportunity to fight with some "haole."

i believe everything should have the option of being available for twenty-four hours. who are people to say that we can only do things at a certain time, and in some cases, for certain days? ergo, alcohol purchases before midnight, time slots for classes that are almost impossible for you to attend, etc.

and this would conclude my short five-minute freewrite..........

the naive country boy.

i have been pre-occupied with studying or getting drunk these past couple of days, therefore my first post since a couple of days ago. i tend to lose interest in things quickly if you don't know me by now, which is why i really should start inventing a device that gives you the sensations of being drunk, eating great fine-dining meals complete with a nicotine buzz shortly after, winning the megabucks, and multiple orgasms all at once. i can only imagine what the downing experience would be like.

so this past weekend, i pretty much had no life. i did get to go away to the country side, however it really wasn't enough since i had to work. friday and saturday night closing, double shifted on sunday, and open monday morning. not exactly the schedule i'd hope for the week before finals. nevertheless, tips was good; that was until someone had decided to hawk some of it.

so i collected all my tips and decided "hey, i'll go to the gym today." now the first thing you need to understand is that people from kauai (i can only say this for people on the westside) are generally very trusting. we don't lock are car/home doors if we are in the vicinity because we know if something were to happen, we'd be able to find that person in an instant and do whatever mokes do. alright, so back to the story. i didn't have a padlock to store my bag in the gym's locker since i rode my bike to work that day. i decided to leave my bag at work and as i was walking to the gym across the street, i realized that i had forgotten to take my wallet with me. i figured, ah...i'm almost at the gym and i'm not going to walk back. besides, no one would search my bag unless if they needed cigarettes, right? and at that time, no one who worked with me that day smoked.

so i returned from the gym some thirty minutes later (oh, shut the fuck up) and gathered my things and left shokudo. showered at home and decided to do my grocery shopping, which later turned out to be shopping at shirokiya and whatever else stores in ala moana. i always have a tendency to check to see how much i have spend after i do my damage versus normal people who check soon after they purchased an item. so i get in my car, and i realize that i'm short. i knew i did about a hundred-dollars worth of damage, but i'm still short. i checked my receipts and then i had realized that i had two, fifty-dollar bills as tips and they weren't there. i'm pretty damn sure i didn't use them, but even if i did, i'd still have the correct amount left over. it can only be concluded that someone at work had taken whatever amount from my wallet while i was at the gym, because i know when i have any denominations over twenty, i tend to remember how much of it i have since i rarely ever get to see those types of bills.

i mean, of course i'm pissed about the fact that i don't have that money, but it's more so that i can't trust whoever was there that day. i can't necessarily pinpoint the exact person who may have taken the cash, but it sucks that they are like that. you see, there are two things that hurts me the most; me losing trust in others through dissapointing actions, and anal sex. it can't be the latter, but i'm glad you weren't able to do both. this whole ordeal definitely makes me think twice since it technically was my fault for leaving my wallet there, but as my parents have taught me and my sister while were growing up; "shame is when you steal." so dear whoever, please remember this and try not to do it again...

i'm just gonig to start my summer off right now.

ah. absolutely no classes for today. bittersweet in a sense that i have to be studying for my upcoming finals next week. but who says i can't fill my aloha print 'gotta be hawaiian' nylon cooler with ice and take it with me to the beach on this hot, humid day?

to top things off, one of my high school classmates who is going to a school for massage therapy gave me the most awesome, free massage ever! i've had free massages recently from one of my co-workers who's attending kapiolani's program, but that was a while ago and i would have to work the day of my sessions. my classmate was massaging my hamstring, inner thighs, and buttocks with such pressure that would surely make any hidden g-spots come alive. the accupressure that had been applied on me created this head-rushing sensation that seemed to have eliminated the stress that had accumulated throughout this semester, as well as it enabled me to let out soft to medium moans here and there. if sex was this effortless, i can only imagine how much more addicted i would be about it.

ah, so tomorrow another wonderful day devoted to myself and not to my senseis. i am so glad that my upper-level writing-intensives will be completed in about a week. should i purchase a $300 ticket to travel to the west coast?

p.s. - operation fat-burn has been upped to full-throttle.

late nights that aren't at the bars.

the title of this post should be a dead give away that what i'm currently doing now is nothing short of disgusting; studying at sinclair library and it's 3:34am. you say that you don't agree with how disgusting this is? well, wait until you get dark circles around your eyes due to irregular sleep patterns, decreased metabolism resulting in weight gain, and smoking in the designated area along with the homeless. the only good result that came out of this though, i must say, is there are quite a bit of hotties studying into the wee hours. i don't like the term 'eye candy' because using that term only means that you are only limited to licking and sucking. i need more physicality than that. and 'door candy' does not come off as a good pun either so...

i thoroughly believe that in every college students' career, there is always that one semester than seems so unbearable. this concept had decided to seek me now. i can't believe how many papers my brain has to produce. notice that i've said brain and not mouth, because i must actually research for shit in order to appear as if i've done shit. i miss those days of reflection papers and freewrites, where you can pretty much bullshit the bullshit. if you didn't know by now, i'm really good at doing so. i remember this one freewrite that i had to do for five minutes in a japanese classical literature class. why in a literature class? probably because all men who teach this subject are gay or in denial. but after writing about whether or not the sun god amaterasu really hid in a cave from the world to see, only made me wonder what in the world did she actually do. then of course how incovenient the sex must have been for the medieval samurai and their chicks with all their layers of clothing. anyway, receiving my paper back from my teacher was what really bothered me because he had included that these topics were not relevant to the introductory of japanese literature. mother fucker, it was a free write that you've told us to do, right? i've been a student within the hawaii educational system for twenty-one years (at that time) and even though it sucks as hell, i'm pretty sure i've learned the concept of freedom and surely don't need you to define that for me. consequently, every free write that we had to do after that was no longer free, but restricted to one specific topic to write freely about. i can't believe all these restrictions that had been placed in my life.

well, come to think of it, free writing is a great aversion away from indulging in sexual indulgences during study breaks. and hey, what do you know...hotties, weight gain, dark circles around the eyes...kind of similar to the affects of alcohol. since that's the case, shouldn't studying too much cause a satiable high one can become addicted to?

alcohol remainders within my bloodstream.

okay, first off, i appreciate any invitations/411's/inquires received on my cell phone, via text messaging. what i don't appreciate is hearing the damn 'doo-doo-doom' sound going off everytime i receive your chain messaging. listen, i only limit myself to sending one text per person, per day. if i'm texting you first, it's usually because i don't want to interrupt you if you are in a meeting, etc. if i'm texting you back, i usually get to the point in one reply. there's online messeging for those of you who wants to do that kind of shit, so use your cell phone to call/answer to me verbally. N wHo TypEs LyK DiS? BcUz Its 2HaRd2UnDeRsTaNd. what are you sending me, a license plate? i can't decipher something equivalent to a teeny-bopper's smartness, &hearts&and&hearts&.

second itchy issue, waiting. i absolutely hate waiting on others. now i'm not talking about waiting for someone's love; there's always your two hands to satisfy yourself in the meantime. i'm talking about actually waiting for people/things to appear in my presence. por ejemplo, i just got back from doing my weekly local produce shopping at kcc's open market, and by 'weekly local produce shopping' i mean 'eating it on the site' because their food vendors are so damn good. anyway, this one vendor decides to put me on hold for about fifteen minutes or so. she asks me for my name at the time of taking my order and she writes 'jake' instead of chad, even after reconfirming what i've just said. i was like, fine...i've changed my name a couple of times in the past to sleep with others just so that they wouldn't find me on facebook or other social networks. so i'm waiting among the other few people who ordered before me, and they, as well as people after me, were receiving their fried polentas and aranicis (in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit) before me. so the hapa-asian lady cashier asks me what i'm waiting for, and i said, ''an order of fried polentas....and....aracini....,'' without moving my clenched teeth. listen, my hangover was about to kick in and it was hot as hell; you'd be a bitch too if you didn't get your heart-attack prone fried foods too, you got that? but fortunately for her, i was being nice today. she gives me a complimentary pastry for waiting and i said, "i'm not a two-year old; you don't have to give that to me." uggh. as a customer, i'm almost ALWAYS polite towards the service i receive from others because i feel karma is not something i'd like to experience. but this is bitch deserved it.

and finally, what is it with others getting mad at me for not doing any favors for their own benefit? a friend of mine is graduating this semester as a dental hygienist from UH manoa. however, in order for her to graduate, she needs to anesthetize me. now i, too, am going through a lot of shit since finals are coming up, but for you to steal two to three hours of my study time away from me is ridiculous. so i said that if anything, i'll come in an hour or two later than my scheduled appointment. she throws a fit and acts all sassy while i was receiving the treatment. you know, even though i don't have any feeling in my mouth, i'm still capable of biting your head off.

maybe my title for this blog should have been "i'm a big fat complainer who does nothing but whine". now where's my bloody mary to maintain this buzz?

chee hoo for ho jin...and dim sum.

i hadn't gave any notice on how koreans are slowly starting to win my attraction towards their sex appeal only up until recently when watching their dramas as well as visiting their country. yes, so you may say that i'm a mess for watching these fictitious asian character roles getting themselves involved in one confusing love triangle (and very seldom do scriptwriters include sex scenes for each episode, what the fuck). and although this person is not an actor, as far as i know, he definitely deserves my salute and twenty-one canon shots. no pun intended. ladies, gentlemen, and the undecided, model choi, ho jin;

and if you didn't know, you better google this for your own benefit.

anyway, i'd just like to say, no i take that back, complain, about the amount of reality shows that are presently on-air on tv. you know, i can still remember when 'vh1' centered around the late 20's and over age group, soft-rocking out to richard marx's right here waiting. now it's complete with shows of trashy-looking men trying to hook up with a whore of an ex-contestant for brett michael's rock of love series, which only highlights our economy's recession in a desperate attempt to maintain it's viewers in order to receive their pay they think that they deserve.

mtv's real world, i'm sure most of you can agree with me on this one, is definitely not the 'real world'. just because you include hidden sex in certain scenes does not prove to us viewers how real the world can be. if you wanted to convey that message, film a clip of how long can one orgasm when operating a vibrating rabbit on themselves. at least this way, we can compare and contrast the reality of this ingenious accesory jesus had created to reduce the risk of committing adultery. and who pays a group of strangers to travel internationally for a few days, only to hear those fortunate few to be bitching about how non-american that place really is? listen, we all know that these people do exist within this world, and the proper title for these people is what we call 'juvenile fuck-tards'. unless if it's a situation where these cast members are in a country currently experiencing the swine flu, your petty, fabricated drama still ceases to amuse me.

so mtv yo raps! please come back! how i long for you to be able to teach me the current popular slangs such as 'trippin' ' again. and enough with this whole heide and spencer wedding propaganda; how can our society actually allow a rich, blond girl marry an asshole and not two men/women together? just like my last vh1 memory of the 1990's when richard marx's video was playing, i'll be right here waiting...