We the People

Temptation. You know how when you read a sign that says "Do Not Enter" or "Employees Only" you want to enter that area or pretend for a second that you work at the massage parlor you are at collecting your monthly dose of herpes so that you can enter the restricted area? Why is it that we always want to do exactly what the sign says not to do?
For instance with children when you tell them do not walk on the floor it was just mopped and they get that evil look in their eyes and put just one toe on the floor. You little bastards. Whip their ass.

The whole point of this is that on the Fed-Ex truck this morning there was a slot for envelopes and above it is read "Do Not Place Hazardous Materials." They are just giving me...I mean crazy psycho killer people the extra budge to do it. Do not put things like that around the general population because you are more than likely to get someone that wants to do it just because it says not to do it.

You know that you have been there too. When you tell your boyfriend "No you can't just stick it in a little" and he some how manages to stick it in until it rams out your mouth. But that is a whole different topic.

Keeping Secrets

When it comes to really important things you expect people to keep your secrets. I pretty much do that. If I do tell someone it is generally my mother and I know that she will not say anything. But, when it comes to keeping secrets from April (my BFF...and this is an inside joke. Generally I wouldn't use BFF.) and her keeping secrets from me we do not do this. As much as I try there is just no helping my mouth from opening up like your mother's legs at a brothel. I am fully willing to tell her everything. Now granted there have been things that I have been able to not tell her. And that usually had to do with personal stuff that I didn't want anyone to know. And I am sure we all know why. April and I just have that bond where we do not keep things from each other. At least I'm sure we do. LOL. Hey we all have those secrets that go no where but our own minds.

I am wondering if other people have friendships like this? Is there that one person that you tell everything to? That even the most blackest of black mails you run your mouth about? Do you become a blubbering idiot when it comes to keeping information from a friend? Do you "Spy" super powers disapate and you give into the Chinese water torture before the first drop hits your head?

I just know that in general keeping secrets is harder than not keeping the crabs I caught from your mother at the brothel. And I am willing to be the Sally Jessica Rafael when it comes to April.

I am a reflection of the box office

The movie "Ant Bully" came out this weekend and this movie honestly comes at the perfect time. I have not said anything but I have been battling ants at work for about a week now. And please remember my desk is very clean and no food is left in it at the end of the day. Well I came in on Tuesday to find about 80 ants crawling around my desk. I was extremely pissed as I do not know where they are coming from or why they chose my desk to set up camp. They were swiftly killed with Spic-N-Span. A few more emerged throughout the day but nothing to be concerned over. The next day there were about 30 or so. Now this is ridiculous. Where the hell are these bastards coming from and why? So I put in ant traps on Friday and came into a ant free desk today.

However, there were several in my desk drawer. Reason being: Baby Jessica got back into my desk and opened a pack of ketchup. Which in turn I found out ants like.

Can you really blame them?

Because I Rock

I have decided to give myself a boost of confidence today. Therefore, I am going to give you a list of self-absorbed reasons as to why this boy rocks.

Ready...

1) I rock because I have skills. Aside from being able to knit, crochet, cook, draw, clean, blow your boyfriend, and multi-task I am able to get a full days work done in less than five hours. Fuck you slackers. Just kidding.

2) I rock because I am asian. Now I may appear to be a white boy on the outside but on the inside I am totally a yellow person. I sound more authentic than your local carry-out call taker. Don't hate because you are still trying to pull off a broken accent.

3) I rock because of my hair and eyebrows. They were groomed yesterday and I must say I look fabulous. Keep the compliments coming people. I enjoy them.

4) I rock because I saved a baby animal from drowning. Don't act like you don't know about Baby Jessica the Mouse. I may not have the body of a lifeguard but I damn sure have the skill of rescue. Eat my free style baby.

5) I rock because of my sense of humor. I have developed it and it works. Censorship does not apply to this sailor's mouth. I will tell you if you are a whore slutbag troll beast and not think twice about it. Honesty is the best policy.

6) I rock because I say I rock and fuck you if you don't agree. See I'm just being honest. Deal with it. And I'm not being cocky. I said cock. LMAO.

Those are just a little piece of why I rock. If you don't agree I will be sure to send my minions to torture you until you see that what I say goes. Their names are Pancake and Pepper and they are on speed dial.

Don't make me hit *2 people.

Bubba Lips

Yesterday my lower lip on the right side started to hurt. Now mind you I did not bite it or have it bitten so I have no clue why it began to hurt. This morning I wake up and my lip is swollen on one side. It looks like I went to have collegen injected into my lips and I could only afford to have one side done. I am a plastic surgery reject. It has since gone down some due to me taking aspirin to lower the swelling. If not I could seriously be Bubba from Forrest Gump. It would be my debut role. However, I'm not sure how it could be that I could be turned from a white boy to a black guy? But, with the magic that Hollywood has to offer I am sure we could figure something out.

On top of everything I do not feel like working so I am posting. I mean is it so bad that I use a little of my work day to fill you bitches in on my life? I couldn't agree more with you. I know you are saying "Paul it is not dishonest or wrong to be paid to write in your journal/blog. Do this everyday as it is a contribution to society." Yes my pretties I shall start abusing...I mean using this privilege.

Last is a conversation I had yesterday with my manager:

Me: You know Paul is not a very common name. I have only known maybe three other Paul's in my life.

Mike the Manager: Yeah we pretty much associate the name Paul with the Pope. Pope John Paul.

Me: Yes that's true. I'm Pope now bow down and kiss my ring bitch.

Mike the Manager: So you think that you would make a good Pope..huh?

Me: Hell yeah. I would rock. I would turn the Vatican out.

Mike the Manager: I don't think that the Cardinals and such would appreciate it.

Me: Who cares "I'm the Pope Bitch."

This certifies my ticket to hell. You think?

Boom Shock-ah

Feeling absolutely like a pile of hammered shit I was the miracle child this morning. As I am talking to Miriam at her desk she proceeds to get up and say that she has to go. There is a baby (and I mean baby) mouse that has fallen in her cup and is treading water to stay alive. So I get him out of the cup and put him in a box to get him warmed up and dried off to be set free later today. All is good. He has recovered and is playing in the box when all of a sudden he decides he is done with being held captive. He springs out of the box and runs across my desk. I try to catch him...but it just did not happen. He runs away. His name is Boom Shoch-ah Lock-ah and he was my friend the baby mouse.

I would compare his rescuing next to Baby Jessica. He fell into a well and had to be rescued. And by well I mean a big plastic cup of water...which compares to a well in regards to living as a mouse. So let it be known that as terrible as I have felt today I still have managed to save a life.
And I am so changing his name to Baby Jessica. That so fits.

Boom Shock-ah

Feeling absolutely like a pile of hammered shit I was the miracle child this morning. As I am talking to Miriam at her desk she proceeds to get up and say that she has to go. There is a baby (and I mean baby) mouse that has fallen in her cup and is treading water to stay alive. So I get him out of the cup and put him in a box to get him warmed up and dried off to be set free later today. All is good. He has recovered and is playing in the box when all of a sudden he decides he is done with being held captive. He springs out of the box and runs across my desk. I try to catch him...but it just did not happen. He runs away. His name is Boom Shoch-ah Lock-ah and he was my friend the baby mouse.

I would compare his rescuing next to Baby Jessica. He fell into a well and had to be rescued. And by well I mean a big plastic cup of water...which compares to a well in regards to living as a mouse. So let it be known that as terrible as I have felt today I still have managed to save a life.
And I am so changing his name to Baby Jessica. That so fits.

And the saga continues...

The "Winged Demon" has officially disappeared. I am guessing that she has gone bonkers from being contained on the porch for a long period of time and just ended it. She ripped her own wings off to lead to her ultimate demise. Or she found a hidden exit from the porch. Either way she is no longer stalking me. I kind of liked having her as a stalker. She was my first.

However, yesterday as I am driving home from the store I am stopped at a red light. I have the window down as I am smoking. Of course. Big surprise. And I see her majesty "The Great Winged Annoyance Demon." Formerly known as a common house fly. She is on my winshield. Prancing around. Rubbing her nasty legs together as if she is plotting her next stint as a pest. I do not turn on the wipers to kill her because I figure that it was cruel and it would leave a nasty mark on the glass. I had hopes that she would just fly off into the great oblivion. I should have known better. She plotted. She plotted better than the WD of the Porch Lair. In she flies with all her grossness that can be associated with flies. Ugh. Are you serious? She is on my door parading around as to temp me to smack her with my hand. Little does she know that I would never. That would just be me loosing points as a fag. We fags do not practice killing things with our bare hands. Anywho...she begins to fly away. All is good. Well she makes a U-turn. Now she is by my feet and she is trying to crawl over them. Um no sister. Not gonna work. She causes me to flick my feet around to which I hit the brakes at a green light. Do you realize the amount of strife you are causing me...do you Annoyance Demon? So, I do it. I look down and as she is sitting waiting to tickle attack again I stomp her. I mean she would die from the second hand smoke anyway. Gone are my insect problems.

Until she rises from the dead. I guess I did not smooch enough into the carpet. Well obviously she was just getting her barrings back when I ever so evilly stomp her again and stomp with all my might. So hard I could have possibly made my car into a Flintstone's car.

She is dead. But, if that bitch rises again I'll swear it is the devil.

Paulkeelah and the Bee

Now do not get me wrong I think that bees have a place in our community. They do all the busy work and make sure that the world is pollinated and what not. And to that I am very much obliged. However, when they invade Paul's space it is unacceptable. Reason one being that I am allergic to them. Reason two being that I am afeared of them. And when I mean afeared I mean I scream like a little pansy and go into cardiac arrest when they get near me. My face goes all ugly from the afearedness of these insects and my body just does what it can to get away from them as fast as possible. What really happens is me looking like a god awful Drag-beast who is performing for the first time in her new eight inch stilettos. It is just not a pretty site. So why am I babbling about bees? I go onto the porch that is off of my bedroom yesterday. The porch is screen in and on the third floor of the house. I light a cigarette and start to enjoy it when out of the corner of my eye I spot a ginormous wasp. To me any bee is big but this demon was ginormous. I am like "Just remain calm Paul. Bee's can sense fear in a person and you need to show the winged demon that you are not afeared and it will not bother you." Well I was totally wrong. The overly large winged demon wasp was not in the best of moods being trapped in a screened in porch so any attempts to rationalize the situation were ill fated. This bitch takes off like the bullet from a .357 magnum and comes towards me. Luckily, I had picked up the broom as protection just in case. Hey a girl never knows these days. And I managed to swat the demon. Like the little pansy I am I put the cigarette out and hurried back into the house. All is good.

Until my dumb ass goes back out on the porch later that evening and the winged demon has plotted. And plotted good. Nestled up in the corner I see the evil winged plotter troublemaker and she is ready for action. She literally pulls back like a bull going for the red. At this point I am like "Did I smoke something I should not have earlier?" Never in my life have I seen a wasp/bee/insect rear back like it was on a mission. Well her royal highness is still out on the porch. I am hoping dead due to last nights storms but I seriously doubt it. And I will not be on that porch until further notice.

My mother told me to spray her with Windex but I have this fear that the winged demon would seriously grab the bottle from me and drench me in Windex and then sting me several times just for the pure satisfaction.

Hum Drum

This weekend went by way too fast. For some reason my company decided that we needed to be open today. I can understand having the showroom open but not the purchasing department. Hello. All of the vendors that I deal with are closed. So today I get to sit here with my thumb up my ass and try to come up with some work. Would it have hurt to have had our department closed today? With pay I might add. So I have managed to go through a slew of internet sites this morning in pursuit of something to do. And I have come up with nothing.

Not that my weekend was exciting by far but it would have been nice to of been feeling the results of a four day weekend. I did not leave the house this weekend. And when I say did not leave I mean it. I was confined to the house all day both on Saturday and Sunday. Watching the television like it was the first time I had laid eyes on it. And I must tell you that cable sucks. It sucks worse than your mother at a glory-hole convention. And AMC. Well let me just tell you that this is one of the worst channels on. They have repeated Jurassic Park about seventy times this weekend. And MTV. If I have to watch The Hills or RW/RR Challenge again I seriously will start to believe that I am a part of the cast. I can't take it. So I watched Thirteen Ghosts and BeetleJuice yesterday. And my question is if BeetleJuice is spelled Betelgeuse in the movie why did they name the movie BeetleJuice? I know it is one of life's great mysteries. Name the damn movie with the correct spelling. Don't make in one spelling in the movie movie and then a different spelling in the movie name.

And yes I did watch Jurassic Park again. I had the high hopes that it would turn out different and the children would be eaten.