05/31/05
     I keep bitching about how things aren't fair, how people are wrong, how this world is so fucked up.
I really want to stop. I just don't know how. It surprises me how some people can either choose to ignore
all of the things that upset me so much, or how these things just don't happen to bother them. It also
surprises me just how upset I am. True, I laugh, and I joke, and I goof off, but the fact of the matter is
that I cannot remember the last time I felt happy. Elated. I don't know why I'm typing this again. Catharsis,
perhaps, I'm not sure...mostly because this doesn't make me feel all that better anyway. It also surprises
me, and angers me beyond all comprehension, how people do not think before they act. 
     For example, I understand the urge to drink, I do. But what I can't understand is the urge to drink so
much that you can't walk. And I can understand the need to not be alone, but I don't condone the lowering of
your standards to feel accepted. I simply cannot agree with that. I will forever remain unwavering in that
respect, and I understand now that it is because of my inablitity to compromise my standards that I will
be alone for a long time to come now. I don't need someone perfect, nor do I desire the "perfect woman" 
because I know that she does not exist. But the kind of girl I want, has to meet certain requirements. We
have to "click," if that's the correct terminology. The reason I write this passage is because it is my
honest opinion that I should not be in the minority of the people that have this point of view. And I think
that a good way to change that is to expose this opinion to others. 
     So I am alone. And I am severely unhappy. But I am proud. Not excessively so, not so that I think I'm 
much better than anyone else (but I am not overly modest, nor naive enough to say that nobody is better than
anyone else), but I believe that I am correct in that opinion. Sometimes that is enough to tide me over.
Sometimes that is enough to to disable my frustration, my rage, my jealousy and my insecurities...most of the 
time, it is not. It's not because I'm so "hostile" as I have been called on numerous occasions...it is simply
because this place is so damn unrelentingly frustrating.
     So I guess I'll close this rant with a question to anyone who happens to read this. How do you deal with
it all? Do you, as so many others do, compromise their standards and, in a way, themselves? Or have you found
a different method to deal with all the frustrations and unfairness this world has to offer? Feel free to 
comment by sending me an e-mail (bottom of the page).


Monday, April 18, 2005 ---(watch out, folks, it's a bit random)---
	hOkay, here we go. I have come to a rude awakening. I have no "skillz." Hear me out on this, because
this might not just be the sleep deprivation talking. While living vicariously through tv, and after a
ridiculously botched night out (which I will comment on a little later), I have realized why exactly it is
that I am single. It's not because I'm so fucking obsessed with it, nor is it because I'm a "nice" guy (cuz,
let's face it, I can be kind of a dick sometimes, and I've come to terms with that...), nor is it because
I'm unattractive, nor is it because of my pseudo-male chauvinism...it is because of this undisputable truth
that every man must realize at some point in his life: women are the bane of mans existance. WAIT. Follow me
on this, because I can back it up, and it's not necessarily anti-women, anti-equal rights because they don't
exist, and it's not chauvinism or sexism. What it is, however, is the truth. Rather, an opinion that will
most likely be contested and perhaps changed sooner or later.
	Religiously speaking (in the Christian sense, that is), first there was God. Then it was God and all the
angels, the world, animals, light, water, darkness, et cetera. And that was cool, except for the whole thang
with Lucifer and all that. Then God made man. And it was still good, but man turned out to be a whiney bitch,
kinda like yours truly, and wanted someone to keep him company...again...like yours truly. And then God made
woman...and the next thing we knew, man was kicked out of paradise. Thanks, ladies. And thanks Adam. We had
everything we needed. Knowledge? Fuck that. Dude, we had food, water, no illnesses, and of course we were
BORN at our physical peak. Plus, I dunno about the rest of you guys, but I kinda miss that extra rib bone. 
*a little interjection into my own rant: I didn't think that I would lapse this much into religion, 
perhaps it won't last much longer...I dunno yet. I'm halfway making this up as I go along...it has a point, 
I swear*
	So what the hell happened? We got horny. Honestly, that can be the only answer. Cuz we had the best
company possible, like, EVER. We thought, "hm...this is Paradise...I'm surrounded by the best that God
has offered me, at NO charge...now, how can I screw this up? Ah! Of course, I can help introduce something
so complex, so confounding, so completely crazy, there will be no option BUT to be fucked, both metaphorically
AND literally." Okay, a little aside here, anytime you have to be forcibly put to sleep in order to get 
something you want, and then find that you're missing something from your CHEST CAVITY, you should immediately
realize that you FUCKED UP.
	Alright, so then there was woman...still, though, not enough. Then both man AND woman decide to defy
their Maker. Sure, it was that damned snakes fault, but honestly, most Miami girls must take after Eve. They
simply can't stop PUTTING THINGS INTO THEIR MOUTHS. True story. I was waiting at the bus stop one day, and
this girl couldn't get her cell phone to work. What did she do? She put it into her mouth. No lie. If that
girl is reading this, I'd like to say this: It's a cell phone, honey, not your daddys friends with the "super
sweet boat!"
	Anyway. From this realization, I have come up with a formula. Here it is: 
(Man + bitchines) + (Woman + inability to keep things out of orifices) + opportunity to screw up life for 
future generations = 1 fucked up world.
	And that's just from one religious sense. And please note, that I am not blaming women for the downfall
of mankind, nor am I blaming men. And I am not necessarily degrading either gender. I'm just saying we fucked
up, and we kinda...well, we fucked up once and we kinda haven't stopped since then. I will come back today,
and re-update this rant. Go figure, there are actually some educational-type important things I have to do.


Monday, January 03, 2005
     
	This is my first post of the new year. Despite the wicked sweet party, it started out on
somewhat of a low note. But that's a story for another time. For now, I'd like to re-post something
that I found that seems very interesting to guys like me...or at least, the other guys in the world
who are like I used to be. I'm not so sure I fit into the category of a "nice guy" anymore, but I 
know the feeling all too well. Keep in mind that I take no credit for the following in any way.
	So here goes...

						Ode to the Nice Guys
			This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

    This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than 
friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving 
the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but 
restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on 
the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the 
guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the 
appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of 
the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the 
guys who respect a girl�s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

    This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and 
never take advantage once they�re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers 
against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for 
compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the 
rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don�t end 
up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, 
for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

    This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her 
back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over 
dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it 
was all ok and she shouldn�t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing 
spree you�d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy 
she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature 
and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a 
counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn�t have a date, so 
after numerous vows that there was nothing �serious� between the two of you, she dragged you to a 
party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying 
each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: �oh, but we�re just friends!� And even 
though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you�re 
nice like that.

    The nice guys don�t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice 
guys don�t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, 
but I can�t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at 
other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just 
illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when 
presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as �oh, he�s too nice to 
date� or �he would be a good boyfriend but he�s not for me� or �he already puts up with so much from 
me, I couldn�t possibly ask him out!� or the most frustrating of all: �no, it would ruin our 
friendship.� Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their 
too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, 
girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can�t figure out why the connection breaks down 
between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I�m going to sleep with this complete 
ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn�t last 
forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they 
should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, 
and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

    So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, 
and I know you�re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the 
matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your 
party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, 
inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, 
my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this 
society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

    Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003



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