Allergyboy

I watched Jarhead the other day starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Jamie Foxx. It’s a story about a marine and his experience in the gulf war, so I was expecting an action packed war flick. It turned out to be more of a drama, that oddly enough, also had some random funny scenes. And at the end of the movie, I asked myself, "ok, so what’s the point?"  You see, most of us are used to stories that have protagonists and antagonists and a grandiose quest for love or perhaps some highly choreographed butt-kicking involving people in leather outfits. And in the end, there is resolution. Love is found. The enemy is defeated. Paris Hilton dies. Whatever. This one didn’t seem to have any form of a clear story. The utter lack of a plot, however, was compensated for with scenes involving men in uniform, scenes involving men OUT of uniform horsing around with each other in communal showers, lots of cock jokes and Jake Gyllenhaal’s exposed ass. Apparently, Brokeback Mountain isn’t the only gay flick he’s in.   

I was featured on TV today. Yey! FYI, this hasn’t been the first time my visage has graced the small screen. I’ve also been featured in a broadsheet when I was in highschool, with my picture and all. There was also this one time where I was utterly surprised to find myself included in a poster. It was for one of those exchange study programs abroad. It had a big picture of these exchange students in front of Six Flags Magic Mountain. And there I was in the background - an innocent bystander who was caught by the camera lens’ encompassing eye. So, technically, I was in a print ad, too. Yes, in my own little twisted world, I am a celebrity.

So, anyways, today I was on TV, in a show called Rated Oh. It’s kinda like a magazine slash episode recap slash talk show slash soft porn kinda show hosted by the fabulous Sam Oh. They shot a birthday special where we threw her a surprise, with matching cake and confetti. Then they had all of us "Friends of Sam" (a whopping total of 3!) say something on cam and give her a gift that had some kind of meaning. I gave her a prepaid internet card because she’s such an internet addict. I have to admit, I hammed it up a bit and even made this joke about how she goes online to meet strange men, which might have been funny in some cultures. I just decided to milk my 15 minutes of fame for all it was worth (it was actually more like 2 mins). They got my name wrong though. It’s Choob, but my caption said Chub. As in like "chubby" Chub, which I am not. But it doesn’t matter. For one brief shining moment, I was a supahstah! The correct spelling of my name is irrelevant, because tomorrow I shall be forgotten. Lost within the deep abyss with all the has-beens and the never-weres. There, I shall find my place, and sit beside the Macarena and Justin Guarini… 

I’m feeling another Paris Hilton Entry. This one has pictures. Yey!

Breasts make excellent handles for picking up rich girls who fall on pavement. That’s hot…

I received this hilarious email that pokes fun at the stupidity of chain letters. I lovingly dedicate this post to my friend Sam, who absolutely abhors these kinds of messages. God forbid you send her one. She’ll throw a showbiz tantrum if you do. Enjoy!

********************
I want to thank all of you who have taken the time and trouble to send
me your damn chain letters over the past few months. Yes, thank you,
thank you, thank you from the bottom of what’s left of my heart for
making me feel safe, secure, blessed, and wealthy.

Because of your concern…I no longer can drink Coca Cola because it can
remove toilet stains.

I no longer drink anything out of a can because I will get sick from the
rat feces and urine.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be
pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a
water buffalo on a hot day

I no longer use margarine because it’s one molecule away from being
plastic.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a
perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually
Al Qaeda in disguise.

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a
stupid number for which I will get the phone bill from hell with calls
to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant
freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer date the opposite sex because they will take my kidneys and
leave me taking a nap in a bathtub full of ice.

I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have
their recipe.

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking
out for me and St. Theresa’s novena has granted my every wish.

Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I
forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five
minutes. (Geez, the BIBLE did not mention it works that way!)

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl who is
about to die in the hospital (for the 1,387,258th time).

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive
the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in
their special e-mail program.

Yes, I want to thank all of you soooooooo much for looking out for me!

I will now return the favor.

If you don’t send this e-mail to at least 1200 people in the next 60
seconds, a large bird with diarrhea will crap on your head at 5:00 PM
this afternoon and the fleas of a thousand camels will infest your
armpits. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend
of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
of my next door neighbour’s ex-mother-in-law’s 8th husband’s 2nd
cousin’s 3rd husband’s ex-wife’s mother’s beautician!

DAMN!!!!

********************

I just have a good feeling about 2006.