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zircle999
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Name: Xamian
Gender: Male
Interests: Basketball, concerts, the beach, beach volleyball, batting cages, Starcraft Brood Wars, beach volley ball, house parties, Warcraft III, exploring new hole-in-the-way Asian restaurants, reading, weekend snowboarding trips that include a cabin and at night drinking, and being bawdy.
Expertise: Helping
Occupation: Contractor
Industry: Bureaucracy
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  zircle999
MSN: zircle999
Member Since:
11/17/2002
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| I have explained some of my TTPs (tactics, techniques, and procedures) for dealing with my favorite adversaries, ovarites. The one caveat is, I am honest with my intentions and what I want. These are some of the TTPs I use to play the entertaining game.
j. Coincidentally "dislike" the same people the ovarite dislike, BUT for a different reason(s). Ovarite hates Britney because Britney is so fake. I don't know who Britney is, but inexplicably, I also dislike Britney, but the reason I dislike her is because. . . she doesn't know when to stop talking in inappropriate situations. If the ovarite is very catty, strongly dislike the person. If the ovarite turns the conversation into a "Who hates Britney more?" contest, you have the conversational meat hooks sunk into flesh. Mutual dislike is a solid starting foundation.
8. Ever so carefully and subtly- slightly hint at doing one or two things she really dislikes. The goal is to somewhat be able to perform the action she loathes and only receive a slight rebuke. If the ovarite feels burps are exceedingly rude, start off by appearing to escape needing to burp. After a nice meal, relax, lounge, cover mouth for a moment, apologize saying "I think I almost had to burp, sorry about that." Since you didn't appear to burp, she shouldn't be too upset, SHOULDN'T. At a later occasion, briefly excuse yourself at the end of a meal. It's not important if she knows the reason you got up to go was to burp or pretend to burp. Just go through the motion several times. At some point she'll realize or ask why you're leaving, and ideally she'll appreciate your thoughtfulness. After establishing 'thoughtfulness trait,' occasionally almost burp, swallow, make some motion with your throat. The next ridiculous phase is apologizing for burping when she wasn't even around. Cognitive dissonance theory is the underlying principle. Ovarite hates burping so this ovarite do not associate with burpers. However, this ovarite has over an achingly ludicrous amount of time, come to quasi-tolerate your burping. Cognitive dissonance theory explains since she dislikes burping but somehow tolerates you almost burping, she must like you. Either that, or she doesn't hate burping as much as she thought and all your painstaking efforts were for naught.
♠ "Hook, line, and sinker" is a quote about fishing. If one has a fish by "hook, line, and sinker," that means the fish is fatally caught on the hook and cannot escape. Well, with ovarites, nothing is definite and she'll change her mind. Nevertheless, the bare bone outline is:
Hook - Strike up an interesting conversation, while the conversation is still fresh and vibrant, apologize suddenly because someone is waiting for you. Wish them well, and leave rather abruptly. Make no mention of hoping to run into them again. The key is creating "potential."
Line - Do or say something that makes her want to knock you down a peg. Whether she wants to outdo you, exceed you in skill, strike you because she can't think of anything clever quickly enough, or just be mean to you, all are acceptable. The themes is "unfinished business." Creating a particular relationship streamlines future interactions and reduces needless thinking. Her simply wanting to outdo you or smack you liberates her from thinking deeply about whether she knows you, if you guys are friends or simply "acquaintances." You're just the "okay, I know what I'll say if I ever see that guy again" guy
Sinker - You don't fully have her until she cries over you. Hitting her to make her cry is scrub, like Alex Rodriguez yelping in hopes of making the infielder drop the pop-up. Ideally she cries over you because you two couldn't make a date, or some jumble of her own girly thoughts makes her cry, she misses you, she doesn't think she's good enough for you, she suspects you're losing interest in her, something that makes the pipes spring a leak. Crying is visceral. Cascading tears is like a yank on the heart strings that unleashes a rafter full of confetti, balloons, and streamers celebrating a Lakers championship. If a girl cries over someone, that's a "Lakers Championship." | | |
| There are two types of rainless morning chill here. The sole question is, "Will a bone-chilling morning bicycle ride to work cause my ears terrible pain if I don't wear ear muffs?" Ear muffs, it's not just for babies with profanity-spewing parental units. | | |
| Caveat, the following may be gross material.
• Fecal matter is unsanitary and full of germs and bacteria.
• Germs and bacteria easily transit through open wounds.
• Certain groups would make tiger pits with sharpened sticks jutting from ground. The tips would be smeared with fecal matter to add insult and infection to injury.
• Sometimes I lay giant village-flattening turds. I amaze myself.
• Sometimes those girthy spectacles result in some rectal bleeding. It's no giving birth to a baby and thankfully that's the closest I will ever get.
• Thankfully, my mistreated pucker has not ever become infected *knock on wood.*
• What special antibodies do we have in our rectal area to protect me from myself and the occassional @ss tearing, sun-blocking monsters?
• I believe eating lots of raw carrots adds extra girth to my poo.
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| What else can I say about Amsterdam? Well, I was in a friend's bathroom, producing solid waste. The quaint little bathroom was very small. The cozy bathroom was so small, when I just leaned forward to look down or pull up my pants, I bashed my forehead against the bathroom door. I was shocked. Wow, small. Nevetheless, the house was cool and had a lot of character. I did see a lot of exposed piping. Maybe the Dutch don't care about hiding the pipes.
I do recommend everyone go on the canal boat tours. It's not expensive and it's a great way to see the city and learn about it.
In other news, I enjoy sliding around the slippery wooden floors my apartment in my fuzzy paw slippers. A couple of days ago, while sliding around, I slipped, lost my balance and fell backwards. Utilizing the years of my youth spent watching wrestling, the experience of a couple of snowboarding trips, and my jaguar-Iike reflexes, I instantly spread my arms and fell as flatly on my back and arms rather than just my @ss. Thus I was able to disperse the impact. Instead of sustaining minimal damage, I magnificently reduced the damage to negligable. I impress myself.
Ikea is loathsome. I spent around 4 hours in a Deutsch Ikea. First off, I was standing in the wrong check out line, I think. I was in the "Express" line, but as I got closer to the check out, I noticed there wasn't a way to pay with cash, I needed plastic. F!!! So, I was going to go home without buying anything, but I had dropped my UCSD sweatshirt. I had to find the kid section to ask them if someone turned in my sweatshirt, no dice. I ended up getting back in line. The lines took a long time, everytime. Also, I wasn't able to find everything I wanted. I wasn't able to find a full-length mirror. They're easy to find at Wal-Marts and Target. I couldn't find curtains that were the right length. All the curtains were too long (300 cm) and I didn't want to get custom cut curtains. Life would have been easier if I spoke Duetsch. I'm going to call Ikea, hope to speak to someone who speaks English, and find out if someone turned in my sweatshirt.
Oh, before I do, I had been wanting an Ikea coffee table for months. It was inexpensive, 40 euro and simple. I thought it was too big to fit into my sedan, but I went to Ikea regardless to get other crap. While in the Ikea parking lot, before my 4 hour ordeal, I measured the width and height of my back seat area with my arm. Later, inside the diabolical Ikea, I measured the display coffee table with my limbs and to my satisfaction, it would fit in my car. Even if the box the table came in was too large for my car, I could take the table out of the box and place it in my car. At the parking lot, I tried to place the unopened box in my back seat. Dah! The box was about 2.4 cm or an inch too long. Of course! I had to take a couple pieces out of the box. Such paltry hinderances, tsk tsk.
I invite all of my friends to come hang out at my place. I even bought a bottle of Johnny Walker Scotch, Blue Label. It better be the best Scotch I ever tasted. It was ridiculously expensive. Well, happy Halloween everyone!
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| The smallest bathroom sink I have ever seen was in a bagel/coffee shop in Amsterdam. The sink was so small, a baby's feet would have to be washed one at a time. I do not know how often babies need to have their feet washed. The sink was about 10 inches/24 cm wide. It was tiny! I thought it was a joke when I first entered the head (restroom).
Bicyclists are fearless in Amsterdam. They have the right-of-way so they ride with impunity. They barely, if at all, look for oncoming cars. They just pedal away. Most of the streets have dedicated bike lanes. I thought a lot of people biked in the Deutschland, A LOT of people bike in Amsterdam. In fact, people often "double-up" on bikes. Often, a girl, or boy will sit on the rear rack that is behind the bike seat and above the rear tire. The rear racks in Amsterdam are generally heavy-duty and much sturdier than the average bike rack. The people who hitch rides on the back of bikes ride side-straddle (both legs hanging off the same side rather than one leg on each side). It was cute seeing so many people ride two to a bike.
Another interesting aspect of the Dutch bikes are the built-in locks for the rear wheel. Many of the Dutch bikes have a key operated lock that will. . . if I recall correctly, clamp down or secure the rear wheel. Interestingly, many Dutchies will insert the bike lock key (which is attached to his or her key chain), unlock it, but leave the key in the bike lock and ride around with impunity. Once that person or people end up at their destination, they will then lock the bike, and finally remove the key. People are riding around with keys dangling near their rear tire.
I end this IMail by saying, the Dutch farmer's market just down the street from my friends place was marvelous. I bought a cornucopia of inexpensive fruits and vegetables, to include limes and avocados.
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Eureka
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"If I am not the greatest and you are not the greatest, then the universe is more vast than I ever imagined."
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