I Was in Black Swan, Now What? Oh, I Know.

Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis were both in the dark movie "Black Swan," and both are now in the same romantic comedy movie. Actually, it's not the same movie, but the main plot seems oddly the same. "No Strings Attached" and "Friends With Benefits" have the girl and boy who just want to have sex without forming feelings for one another. For the peeps that dug Natalie more in "Black Swan," you can have "No Strings Attached." For all you who dug Mila more, you can have "Friends With Benefits."

You be the judge.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

College in Your PJs

If you're not in your pajamas, are you expelled? And what if you don't take your class in the morning but at lunch time? Should you change into your pajamas? Are boxers considered pajamas? Does anyone use the term pajamas anymore?

Every time I see this commercial, I keep thinking that a bunch of dudes sitting at home will want to join this college merely because they think, "Hey, it can't be true? Killing two birds with one stone? I can get an education AND meet hot chicks?"

Newsflash, you can't.

I know, she lost you at...well, no words, just at the pajama site, but there's no real college where everyone just sits in their pajamas and gets an education; this commercial is only connecting you to online colleges that already exist. The whole pajama spiel is only a suggestion.

But that'd be weird if a college did exist where students, in their pajamas of course, got online together at the same exact time, had a professor, in her pajamas of course, and you were all connected via Skype, and if the professor--let's call her (yes, a her) Professor Alba--saw you with more than your pajamas she'd say, "Excuse me? Um...take off those more-than-necessary-pieces-of-clothing immediately!" Regardless of the time, you had better be in your pajamas: If you were sticky from a hard day of working construction and you were so dirty that the dirt from the construction site had given you a New Jersey spray tan on your face, you had better strip, and get your pajamas on. If your baby had just spewed not into his cup, but onto your stomach because you were wearing no shirt and you had to login in five seconds and there was no time for cleaning it up, you had better get your pajamas on. You wouldn't want Professor Alba to be mad, would you?

But I always thought it was cooler to see real people at a physical campus as oppose to emailing "professors" and reading student's papers via online. But if the schedule doesn't allow you to attend classes or you prefer not to attend classes at a physical campus, classes online is definitely a nice option for you. And you DON'T have to wear your pajamas if you don't want to. The important thing is to get an edumacation!


Flushing the toilet,


Loa

Guys With Good Bodies Don't Wear Shirts When They Run

Do you gel your hair before you go for a run?

I was locking up my bike on Kalakaua St. right outside of Duke's Waikiki when I looked up and seen this guy about to begin his run. I could tell because he wasn't sweating, and wasn't huffing and puffing. What struck me about this guy was that he had gel in his hair, and I must say it was quite a cool hairdo. Regardless of his cool hairdo, I thought to myself about this idea of gelling your hair before you go for a run, and specifically this guy that I saw.

Let's think about his location: he's in Waikiki--there are a lot of good looking females in Waikiki so he does in fact have a reason to gel his hair. A woman could wave him down in the course of her running because of his gelled hair and be like, "I don't stop in the middle of my run too often...well, I've never done this before, but you just have amazing hair, and I'm pretty turned on that you'd take the time to gel your hair before you went running. Wanna grab some drinks later? Here's my number."

Let's think about what he was wearing: he was wearing black mesh shorts and a white mesh shirt--both Nike-looking pieces--good choice, right? But guys with good bodies don't wear shirts when they run, so to compensate for his lack of a good physique, he gelled his hair. He wasn't fat, I'm just sure that he wasn't rocking a six pack. But a gelled hairdo can sometimes throw off a woman's interests and trick her into thinking that you do take care of your body if you don't.

Let's think about the time: I seen him at approximately 7:20 AM this morning. Obviously, it wasn't 4 AM in the morning, so there wasn't a marathon--I didn't see others running in huge packs or anything that would indicate that he was running in a marathon. He and I both knew that there was not going to be any photo ops. He looked like a tourist so I know he didn't work a graveyard valet shift. That means he woke up with a purpose: to look sharp while running just in case anything awesome would happen. He took one step out of the bathroom without gelling his hair, took a step back into the bathroom, stared himself in the mirror, and made magic with his gel product and fingers.

Let's think about his possible downfall: gel and sweat--not a great combination. I hope he saw that woman within a five minute span of me seeing him (unless he's a quick sweater) because if he was running and the gel mixed with his perspiration and then slipped away from his attempt to wipe it off his forehead and made its way to his eyes, and then the woman saw him, he'd be the closest thing to the Miami Heat crying in the locker room after their loss to the Chicago Bulls (my beloved team) last Sunday, and he'd be screwed.

If you are a person who gels their hair before they run, that's cool, keep doing it, there are some positives that come with a gelled hairdo while running. Just keep in mind that if I see you, I might chuckle simply because I've put too much damn thought into this, and if you're a true, natural sweater, wear a headband just in case you miss that drip of gelled sweat.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

What Would You Rather Have?

In the world of prosthetics, one will replace a human body part with an artificial device...not because they want to, but because they've lost it in an accident of some sort. 

I've been seeing a tourist around my workplace with a prosthetic leg for a few days now, and my co-worker saw him too. He then posed this question, "What would you rather have: A prosthetic arm, or a prosthetic leg?" We laughed, which I feel like an asshole for, although I know my co-worker didn't feel like an asshole (what a real asshole), but what a question, right? 


OK, if I chose a prosthetic arm, of course, I'd have a prosthetic hand. If I were to go on a date with a hottie, and we were having an intimate dinner under the moonlit stars and yeah, there was no vog involved, I would want to do that slick move where the guy softly brushes the back of his hand against the side of her face, eventually ending with a soft kiss on her lips. I would act on this move, and she'd be loving it, but by the time I would go for the kill, I would be able to read her mind, and she would be saying, "This is so romantic...but his hand feels reallllly weird against my face." Dude, what a prick!


 So prosthetic hand, durable? Yes. Romantic? Not so really.

If I were to choose a prosthetic leg, I'd be so glad I could walk. If I wore pants, no one would know the difference if I had a human leg, or a prosthetic one..unless of course they were scrubs and studied the way I walk. There's gotta be a minor limp, guaranteed. 



If I were to go on a date, and the dinner went exceptionally well, she would say, "Let's take this back to my place." Then things would be getting pretty intimate, and in a soft voice, she would say, "Hey, my back's aching, can you massage it please?" I would reply,"Of course." I begin to massage her while she lays on her front, and she seems like she's loving it when she says in her oh so soft, soft voice, "Your hands aren't cutting it--use your feet?" In my head, I'm like, "Frick, she doesn't even know about my prosthetic leg! I thought we were just gonna make out!!" But she won't budge, she wants the feet. I sigh to myself, "Here goes nothing." I gently put my feet on her back and she's digging it,"Oh my, what have you lubed your feet with? It's such a feeling I've never experienced before." I'm thinking, "Awwww yeeeeeuh, son!" Suddenly she's over the massage, turns over and sees your prosthetic leg, and freaks out!........awkward silence.........then we'd be outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette, without anything good happening before that. Dude, what a prick! 


So prosthetic leg, durable? Yes. Romantic? Not so really.


Yeah yeah yeah, I've based my decison on how my prosthetic would put up if I was ever in a romantic situation. So what do I choose? I shall go with...the leg! I rather feel with my hand than my leg I suppose. Awkward or not, my girl gon love her some foot massages!


Actually, what I really wanted to get across was that we should all feel blessed and privileged to have our limbs in tact. Anddddd if you don't, I'm sorry if I offended you, and I hope your romantic situations are nothing less of a truly spectacular time.

OK, We Get It, The Food is Grinds

I hang out with this girl. She likes watching food shows. I'm not too big of a fan of the shows simply because the food looks really good and I eat eggs and rice for dinner, so those two facts don't really work out in my favor.

When I watch the shows, I think the food looks amazing, but I tend sometimes to only watch the show hosts and how ridiculous their facial expressions are, and the way they praise the food they have just tasted. And I'm not talking about the shows where the host is a cook, I'm talking about the hosts who taste a cook's meal. I like how they:

First, look at the food that the cook is about to give him/her with huge eyeballs as if he/she are about to receive the most precious gift on earth. Then, they take a bite, close their huge eyes and make this face like the most precious gift on earth has turned their taste buds upside down. They then start to nod their head up and down, seemingly saying yes, but the words won't come out because they're speechless--it just tastes THAT good. Then, they look at the camera and point to the food, still not saying anything, but as if to say, "You have GOT to try this." Finally, when words can reach their vocal capabilities, they say that it's the best whatever it is he/she has ever tasted...evvvvvver.

Over and over. I suppose you have to sell it. Doesn't the food ever taste bad that it makes them want to spew (and "If you're gonna spew, spew into this--Wayne Campbell)? I mean, it doesn't have to taste bad, but according to what the TV host likes and dislikes, the food has to suck sometimes! It'd be classic to watch a show where the host gets the food, takes a bite and goes, "Wow!" And the cook goes, "You likes?" And the host is like, "No! That was the worst taste of food I've ever had! This food sucks!" and just starts spewing everywhere! At least I would know that the host was being honest. And I know they wouldn't edit or completely cancel that particular show too.

I guess I'm just hating the playa AND the game because I'd guarantee grind all the food on those food shows. In fact, I'm pretty hungry right now. But I think I'll just settle for my 88 cent purchased bag of saimin and a live telecast game of the NBA.


Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Permit Yourself to Show Your Elevator Permit

Many thoughts can cross your mind while you're in an elevator: what do I have to do today? I wonder who's home? This elevator is slow. This elevator is fast. Why didn't I take the stairs? Who is this Otis guy? Etc. But have you ever looked at the sign somewhere in the elevator that says, "ELEVATOR PERMIT LOCATED IN MANAGER'S OFFICE"?

I've seen it a bunch of times and thought of going to the manager's office just to see if they really have a permit for the elevator. But, sometimes your manager's office isn't even in the building. Sometimes, you might be stuck in the elevator and want to know how the elevator is operating with a "permit", but you can't, 'cause you're stuck...in the elevator, and the permit is in...the manager's office. I once went down in an elevator with only myself and another female, and the lights were out inside. First, I was thinking how lazy the maintenance was, and then I was like, "Wow, this is kinda cool. She could be hot, and for the next  10 seconds, something amazing could happen." Turns out, the girl was my sister in-law's first cousin. Weird. And totally off subject...kinda.

I wonder if these "managers" ever have regular people like ourselves strolling on through their office asking, "Could I see the elevator's permit please?" Startled, the manager shuffles through the various papers piled on his desk and inside of his drawers. Finally, the manager finds it and shows it. The person examines the document then hands it back saying, "OK, just making sure. Thanks," and walks out the door.

But why is there a sign saying that the permit is in the manager's office? Why can't the actual permit be displayed in the elevator. You don't have bars having a sign that says their liquor license is in the manager's office. Maybe there were incidents in the early days where the actual permits were being destroyed by passengers in the elevators. And it just so happened that the elevator peeps were the originators of going "green", saying "We are using just too much darn paper with trying to show our darn permit, darnitt!" So the dudes were like, "You know what, we'll just put up a sign in the elevator saying that the permit is in the manager's office. There, the permit will be safe in the manager's arms." Who knows? I obviously don't.

Anyways, check out that sign, and possibly think of taking a look at the actual permit...wherever the hell it is.

Flushing the toilet,

Loa

Burning Rubber is Not Always Cool

An action worth taking a look at is the "burn rubber when mad" action. Well, it's not THAT important that it's worth looking at, but it's so funny and so true.

Scenario:

 Female and male are getting into a fiery argument, not a heated one, and brother man and sister woman can't take it anymore. He's like, "You know what?! You know what?!" And she's like, "What, huh?! What?!" And he's like, "We're through!" 

As he says that they're through, he slams the front door of the house, and proceeds to his vehicle. After he gets into his car, he slams another door again, knowing that she is in tears listening to his every move. He starts his car, reverses, puts his gear into drive, and...infamously burns rubber. As she hears his tires screech for those few seconds, she then knows, he's surely not playing any games.

End Scenario.

But can someone tell me who the hell came up with doing that, and why when that person heard/saw someone else doing that because of him/her, he/she was like, "They must be pissed at me." I used to think burning rubber was for leisure activity and cool, until one day, I heard an argument from my neighbors, and it ultimately ended in the burning of some rubber. I was like, "Wow, burning rubber is not always cool." 

In any case, that person is pretty creative. I rather he/she burns rubber than burns in physical violence. Right on, creator of burning rubber!

Flushing the toilet,

Loa