I wanted to write something so I could feel bad, but god has left my consciousness and I feel nothing. I thought a drink would bring the feelings back. Too many calories. I’d be disappointed with myself. Time to fire up Tinder. He wanted a purebred, and I’m just a shelter animal. They’re roses and I’m just a dandelion.

Maybe he’s fallen in love… Best leave him to his happiness. This sucks, man. This sucks worse than a nun trying to give a blowjob.

Shit, I’m worried I’ve gone too far. This is the last thing I wanted. But I can’t stop. I’m power tripping.

This fucker wants a pound of flesh.

Everything will be okay. If it’s not okay, it’s not over. What lies you tell. I’d rather be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie. Fucking mind games. Why can’t you just beat me like a normal person?

I’m losing it.

Jess. Jess, Jess, Jess… You have yourself and that is enough. You come from a time when ships were made of wood and men were made of steel. You’re some fantastic shit, and I wouldn’t fuck with you unless if I had a strong belief in reincarnation. And if there is such a thing as reincarnation, I’m jealous that other people get to have you in their lives and I don’t.

Thanks, man.

The Roommate

I like her. She’s amiable and pleasant. Kendrick is her name.

She makes the place look lived in. Having moved from Korea, I couldn’t bring my pretty, superfluous things (and since I’m broke dick, I haven’t purchased a lot of the necessities; thank god my sister had most of the shit I needed). I’ve lived a pretty minimal life for the past few years, but she makes the apartment feel like it could be home.

A few of my teammates decided to visit me around 2200 (that’s 10:00 PM for you civies), and as per usual, they threw sticks at my window yelling obscenities “YOU SHIT BIRD! LET US IN!” I thought she was gonna flip shit, but she laughed and got along quite well with my buddies, even the drunk one.

Yes, I think I’ll keep her for the time being.


I was really drunk in Fells Point. I had taken shots like I was bulletproof, so I was one brave, talkative son of a bitch (no disrespect to my mother and no sprouting of dicks for me).

I walked into Stuggy’s Hotdogs because their food is pretty epic (even when I’m sober) and immediately saw a white dude shoving his tongue into an Asian girl’s ear. I leaned back, letting my head flop backwards so everything looked upside down to me. I often do this to get people’s attentions; it worked.

Me: Heyoo… Y’all should have some behbehs. There aren’t enough people like me in the world… People of the light yellow pigmentation. ‘Nam sayin’?

The guy: Don’t worry. We’re practicing.

That smooth fucker.

I Like You

Liking someone is risky business. Your attack surface becomes shit if you’re not careful, and emotions are so, so subjective…how the fuck are you supposed to navigate through all of that? Sex can be objectified, compartmentalized. Liking someone is tricky. That shit’s a gun in your house. You think it’ll save you, but it’ll be used against you.

I’m not very good at the game, so I hardly ever play it. I’m unfamiliar with its rules, and the players are formidable.

Now, my bros have said a great deal about fucking and, as such, have equipped me with some knowledge; this particular piece has stuck with me. If there’s a golden rule to relationships, I believe it to be this:

You have to be able to walk away from a relationship at any moment and be okay with that.

There has only been one time when I was neck deep in a romantic intimacy and I reckon that was because this pearl of wisdom hadn’t been delivered to me. I take this shit seriously… but I’m not sure if I’m capable of snipping ties at a moment’s notice.

That being said, I find that I’m growing fond of someone.

It’s like I went over to God’s house but He was mowing the lawn and couldn’t hear me asking Him questions. “Is it okay to like this person? Can I share my thoughts with him? AM I GONNA GET FUCKED OVER?!” And then He runs over a rock with His lawn mower shooting it towards my shins. My cue to leave His property, I guess.