tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34732785395505364042024-02-08T08:55:29.935-08:00Sidewalk ChatsA place where you can come and we can perhaps share similar experiences or you can live through mine. And if its neither of the two, then you'll hear me express my opinion on various topics, and I promise they wont be generic tomato soup, they're going to be extremely flavorful.Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-22334779329950502112023-01-18T11:09:00.003-08:002023-01-18T11:09:27.605-08:00Make Your Coffee<h1><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 20pt; font-style: italic;">Make Your Coffee</span></h1><div class="page" title="Page 1"><div class="section"><div class="layoutArea"><div class="column"><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 14pt;">Everyone loves the idea of healthy habits, morning rituals, mindfulness, meditation, goat yoga, and whatever else, but who's got time for that? We adhere to...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 14pt;">Rush Culture.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Wake up! Get outta bed! Get going!!! Whoa whoa whoa, hold your horses. Yes, do get outta bed. But </span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic;">sloww....down</span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">.</span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Unless you’re a firefighter who accidentally slept in, there’s no need to rush.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Relax, make your coffee.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Everything is a count down. We’re constantly saying things like, “Only 30 more minutes until this, “One more day till the weekend”, “I only have 15 min”, “I’m late!”, “Make it quick!”, “I don’t have time for that”, “I only get two weeks so I’d rather just explore Italy over Turkey”.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">But I’m done. I’m done with coffee stained dress shirts, speeding tickets, and my heart beating like I’m in a horse race when I check the time.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">So what do we do about it? I’ve been doing some searching and this is what’s helped me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">All we have is the present moment. Now read that again.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Yea yea I know I sound like one of those </span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic;">spiritual hippies</span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">but it’s the simple truth. This year has truly taught us that we can't predict anything other than what’s in front of us. Focusing on predicting the future not only robs you of being present, but it’s absolutely ridiculous to think you have that much power. This isn’t Back To The Future and you’re not Doc Brown. Stick to the present day and leave the future to the movies.</span></p></div></div></div></div><div class="page" title="Page 2"><div class="section"><div class="layoutArea"><div class="column"><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">You ever watch a golfer just stare at the ball? It may look like he’s wasting time but it's the complete opposite, he’s in </span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic;">deep focus</span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">.</span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Slow and focused wins the race. Time is ticking, and it’s gonna keep ticking no matter what you do so make it count. Time can be used to focus or cause tremendous distraction.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">I choose to use time to concentrate and double down on tasks that I’m working on NOW, like writing this prompt. I’m sitting and typing this as we speak, fully engrossed in what I’m doing. I’m not thinking of next week, tomorrow or what my chances of getting Covid are in-case I go to Whole Foods to buy cotton candy grapes. If you haven’t tried those, they’re freakin amazing. None of that crap matters because it's not in front of me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Unlike computers, we don’t get to have a million tabs and windows open at the same time and not crash. Sure we get more efficient with repetition but we’re living beings. We’re hired to do human tasks and expected to be as fast as computers. That only leads to subpar performance and below average products.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">Disney used hand drawn images for all its timeless classics. It cost them a FORTUNE and took way longer to complete, but they weren’t in a rush. They did that for decades. They set the precedence for an entire industry and expectation for the world, they made magic. You look at a cartoon nowadays and it looks exactly how it was made, rushed.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">So my advice to anyone reading this, is </span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic;">slow...down</span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">,</span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic;">calm</span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt; font-style: italic;">down</span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">,</span><span style="font-family: MS; font-size: 13pt;"></span><span style="font-family: ArialMT; font-size: 13pt;">and make your coffee.</span></p></div></div></div></div>Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-42850036845176758522023-01-18T11:08:00.001-08:002023-01-18T11:08:22.846-08:00INADEQUATE<p>This quarantine has made me face my</p><p>inadequacies as a man and provider for my family.</p><p>Every day I look at my mom and sister and can't</p><p>help but to feel like a failure due to my inability to</p><p>be the economic powerhouse I SO desperately</p><p>strive to be. I thought this forced entrapment</p><p>would cause my creative juices to flow in</p><p>abundance, instead it's only caused me to go in to</p><p>a frantic internal search of how to be the man I</p><p>need to be in-order to serve my family. Man, I feel</p><p>like such a fuckin loser. Like a neutered dog,</p><p>defeated, deflated, naked and completely</p><p>exposed of all my weaknesses. This is nothing</p><p>new for me, this feeling of being inadequate, but</p><p>I've always convinced myself that through my</p><p>discipline, dedication, and commitment to staying</p><p>the course that I'd have something to show for. At</p><p>this point there is no evidence, no hiding, no</p><p>mirage of accomplishment, no pillar of excuses to</p><p>lean on, nothing of use, just me and my</p><p>inadequacies.</p>Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-172143975180618112014-02-17T18:51:00.004-08:002014-02-17T18:51:56.355-08:00Pressure+Time =..............<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What to write, what to write, I'm writing even though I don't feel like writing. Lets see what comes out when one is pressed for content. Its interesting what happens when someone pressures you to complete something or have something done in a tight window of time. That's probably how the space ship was created, the government probably just decided one day that they wanted to go to space and then thought "lets see if we can pressure the hell out of some scientists and engineers to see how close they'll come, I mean its never going to work but lets see what they do". Well low and behold, the pressure was on and with that pressure came combustion and with combustion came rockets and with rockets came astronauts, a word that didn't exist. They had to create a space shuttle and a word to call the people traveling in them, they could've just called them space men or space walkers but no, they had that pressure cooker going so that's what they came up with. <br />
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Another example of innovation due to pressure is the dildo. The dildo actually started out as a rolling pin for kids to use as a safer option. During the 1950's, cooking sets were becoming extremely popular so companies started pumping out culinary toys for kids, the rubber rolling pin being one of them. It was great for both the kids and the parents except for one thing, the more the kids played in the kitchen, the busier mommy was with the children, leaving daddy coming home tired, hungry and horny. Well the more this went on, the more tired, hungry and horny daddy became, he grew more and more agitated, coming home tired, horny and unable to eat any of the "play food" his wife and kids hd been making all day. Well one day he reached his limit and his pressure cap popped off, he stormed into the kitchen, grabbed the rubber rolling pin and stuck it up mommy's ass. She let out a frightening shreek immediately followed by a long, over due moan. The more she moaned, the more daddy repeatedly stuck it in. Pretty soon, everyone in the neighborhood was doing this, you could hear moans for miles. Daddy then decided he was on to something and could see some dollar signs. He started thinking of names for the product, rubber rolling pin didn't sound very exciting. He began the naming process, the rubber wonder, no, the rubber dubber doooo(in honor of the flint stones) but that wasn't gonna work either, the moaner, no, the moaner boner, Ahh yes, that sounds great, well, there's gotta be something better, by this time people were calling from all over town asking what this "thing" was called, daddy felt the pressure, he wanted to make his mark with his invention, the calls were growing in volume until they stopped, there was a knock at the door, then two, then three, then four and kept going ON and ON and ON, the kids were crying, mommy was moaning(she realized she didn't need daddy anymore and began self pleasuring), the pressure was unbearable, daddy ran to the door and yelled at the top of his lungs, "It's a bbb, dahlh DILDO!!!!!" All the neighbors gasped in relief, looked at one another in confusion and began returning to their homes. From that day on, the Dildo was selling like mad, it was selling off the shelves. Daddy quite his job at the factory and could now join mommy and the kids in the kitchen, each with a dildo in one hand and a ball of dough in the other. </div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-50777947015323389362014-02-05T11:38:00.001-08:002021-02-25T17:41:46.150-08:00 Laws of Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm nearing the 3 year mark on my relationship with my lovely girlfriend Sona. She and I have had a good run up until now, I can say without a doubt that it has truly been a great experience and hasn't felt like work one bit. Of course we've had our moments of bickering, I'm a complex man and she's quite a complex little woman.<br />
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I want to go over the key things that have made our short but sweet relationship last thus far. <br />
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<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><b>Respect</b>- Although I'm 2 years older than her, I have a lot of respect for her. I didn't always, I was pretty overbearing, overwhelming, and whatever else starts with "over". Early on, she didn't have strong enough opinions or views on certain subjects, so how the hell was I supposed to respect someone like that? I pride myself on my opinions and views regardless whether they're right or wrong, they're my god damn views, which I've formed over months and years of careful thought. Over time, she began forming her own views and sticking with her opinions and she forced me to see it her way, which then forced me to respect her without knowing. You can only respect someone you can confide in, weak minded people don't fit that criteria. I don't waste my time with people like that, so I sure as hell wasn't going to date someone like that. Now she and I have a mutual respect for one another, I respect her for standing behind her principles and views, and because of that I'm sure she naturally respects me even more.</li>
<li><b>Communication</b>- Distance has forced us to be better communicators, but I knew the importance of it long before we were apart. After growing up in a family where my mother wasn't the best at communicating, she was a great mother but not the best communicator, I was informed by close friends of mine how uncertain and wishy washy I could be at times. After realizing that I immediately thought, "ok fuck that, I'm definitely not carrying that trait down", I felt like an absolute bitch for being that way, after all, a man is supposed to bring a sense of certainty and integrity to the room, none a that "I'm not sure" bullshit. So going forward, from there on out I was always sure to be very clear and transparent in all my interactions and conversations with people. I began explaining the reasoning behind my actions so that no one could misinterpret my motives or reasons for doing or saying a particular thing. I would basically call myself out on most things I did that brought up any hint of question. For instance, "hey when I said THAT I didn't mean to sound like I was annoyed, or hey I know my tone was a bit stern but its cus I was tired, I wasn't mad". So when Sona and I got together, I carried this over and it has definitely taken care of any confusion, frustration, built up anger or whatever else women feel. You wonder what pushes a woman to cut off her husbands dick in the middle of the night, its miscommunication. </li>
<li><b>Learn</b>- One of my favorite aspects of our relationship is that we're constantly trying to out learn one another and share our knowledge with each other. We're a constant powerhouse of progression, mentally and physically. Because of this, we grow together at a mutual rate. You always hear about people's relationships falling apart because of things like "I'm in a different place in my life", or "we didn't really connect any more". To me that's due to a lack of effort in finding ways to learn from one another. When you share knowledge, you BOTH gain something and can participate. Its like going out to eat with a friend at a really good pizza joint, you'll always SHARE that experience and be able to talk about it, same goes for knowledge, except it has a greater residual effect. Over time all the knowledge you keep sharing turns into a giant library that you have both built and coauthored. Now you reach a point where you're soo in tune with one another's psyche that you want to continue building on.</li>
<li><b>Laughter</b>- With me and Sona, pretty much everything is a joke. When we're mad at each other, when we're in bed(sexually and non sexually), when we're eating, when we're talking, when we're in the car, when she's crying, when we're sad, we're usually laughing at something or the other. I was fortunate enough to find someone who shares the same sense of laughter that I have because its amazing to find the one person you love that doesn't say "Ok, not everything is funny" YES IT IS. There is always something funny if you apply the situation to another setting. I enjoy being in her company because I know we're going to laugh together, EVERY TIME, its a money back guarantee. She knows it, and I know it. Who wouldn't want to go somewhere where they were guaranteed to laugh every time? </li>
<li><b>Support- </b>We have unconditional support for one another. I will never stop having faith in her as long as we're together and even if we're not. For me, its important to show support and supply solutions to problems. That's the key to constructive support, support with substance, not just "keep trying your best" but giving actual advice and problem solving support. I'm in a challenging path but she never makes me feel little or that I'm just another sperm in the tube trying to penetrate that giant egg. She always gives me that pump I need and provides the right words in order to help me along. I try and do the same, when she's feeling overwhelmed or challenged, we break it down and talk about it without all the distractions and pressures of what it means. We have the best intentions for one another and we're ultra aware of that, and that has to be taken into full consideration when support is given. Its easy to just hand out support and advice, but when you truly want to support someone, there's a lot of effort and care that goes into your words. </li>
</ol>
And that's what keeps us together. uh uh......a bee a bee thats all folks.<br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-71395389985511692772014-01-28T18:50:00.000-08:002014-01-28T18:50:58.568-08:00Sorry can you repeat that please<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's something about becoming a better writer that fascinates me, it goes back to all the comedians I respect and their ability to write content. When you're a good writer, its amazing seeing the words you've written flow out on paper just as they were in your head. Its so easy to spot shitty writing because it looks and sounds like it was written by someone listing off their credentials in a job interview. Writing is so simple yet so complicated because while trying to simplify it, we complicate it. For instance, the natural urge is to sound intelligent rather than being clear, so while trying to sound intelligent, the clarity is often lost. I've been in a number of conversations where I just want to tell the person, "just shut the fuck up, gather up your thoughts and speak". If you're talking about walking your dog, I don't need to hear the word juxtapose. I'm better off talking to an immigrant who speaks broken english, at least they can be understood. Isn't that funny? We spend years educating ourselves, going to the best schools we can, preparing ourselves for the future, and at the end of it we cant even ask someone for directions without confusing the fuck out of them. Whats going on here?<br />
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Speaking of "words", there are some "words" that need to be retired. Here's two that come to mind <br />
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1. <b>Awkward</b>- Cant stand hearing this word anymore because its applied to EVERYTHING. "Oh my god that's so awkward, you're so awkward, he's so awkward, she's so awkward, this sandwich is so awkward, my toes are so awkward, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! <br />
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2. <b>To be Honest</b>- Now I realize that's a phrase, but it needs to be ridden of. Its always used with the most mundane situations. Whats the obsession with saying that, "To be honest, I love cookies, to be honest I feel really full, to be honest I ate 3........., to be honest I didn't really talk to her much. To be honest, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!<br />
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My perspective is always "what the..." or "why the..." I think the world would be a better place if we didn't always have our noses up webster's ass so much. Everything in moderation, so stop trying to sound like a godamn genius all the time, I just wanna know how to get onto the freeway <br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-58249689910440659732014-01-03T13:20:00.003-08:002014-01-03T13:20:59.190-08:00And a Happy New Year........Ya Filthy Animals<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Happy New Year, years? Always been confused about that. At the moment, we're getting ready for some cock.....tails. I'm making some simple syrup, for those of you who don't know, simple syrup is made by boiling water and sugar until it becomes thick and cummy, tastes great. I started writing this on New Years eve which is why its in past tense. I had a great new years eve this year, we spent it at home, with family, friends, food and alcohol, what better company........I prefer being able to pass out on a fluffy couch instead of a bathroom stall in some shitty club. Those fixed price new years parties are the worst, you pay through the ass, look around for parking that costs as much as your mortgage, wait in line with a bunch of faggots, then when you finally get in you just wanna get hammered but have to make your way through the stampede of people in order to get to the bar. Then you walk around for a few hours with an erection listening to shitty music. Some people think thats fun, not I.<br />
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I've enjoyed my time with my family, playing with my nephews and nieces, hanging out with my cousins, my mom and my sister, its been a gay ol time. I'm not really in the mood to write at the moment but I'm forcing my mind to do it anyway. One of the things I plan on changing this year is to force myself to do certain tasks so they become automatic without thinking, regardless of how I feel "that day or moment". Its the only way to advance. The majority of the things we do without thinking are paying bills and going to work, everything else is up to our mood, energy level and whatever else bullshit you can think up. We have zero discipline when it comes to US and promises we should make to OURSELVES instead of others. For instance, we'll show up at 5am or maybe 4am to workout out with a trainer but when it comes to US we'll skip or make an excuse. We lack the discipline to fulfill promises to ourselves and its an extremely shitty trait we carry. This is the year, at least for me, to rid myself of this poison that has manifested my soul and prevented me from achieving the success I strive for. Imagine how much progress you can make by keeping the promises you make to yourself instead of others....You could go from fat to fit, poor to rich, illiterate to literate, black to white(sadly thats possible), man to woman, whatever the hell you want. If you simply answer to yourself, be your own boss, your own trainer, whatever. I just cant stand another day of waking up at 6am for someone else and not for myself. Lets set our alarms for 630am and no snoozing, ok maybe one snooze but thats it. New Year, New attitude.<br />
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Happy New Year Ya Filthy Animals<br />
(home alone reference for those you who grew up in Africa)<br />
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Your one and only,<br />
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Yuvi<br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-10438897728262538682013-12-17T13:28:00.001-08:002013-12-21T19:34:52.406-08:00The Nightmare Before Christ-Mas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Its that time of the year again, Jesus's birthday. Its funny how Jesus gets all the attention out of everyone, no one gives a shit about Moses or Buddha's birthday. Those two guys and many others got the ugly end of the stick. I guess its cus Jesus was a light skin nigga. I'm just glad we have an excuse to eat, could use more days like that. I don't give a shit if its "worship a goat day" or "Sacrifice Saturday", as long as we get to eat I'm up for it.<br />
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In the past I would make "resolutions" just like everyone else, but just like every article you read on earth, no one can keep them. Instead I just continue on the goals I set myself before the new year and perhaps tweek and adjust them. The new year is nice because it gives you a reason to accomplish them, "hey, new year, new begining, make some shit happen". Thats usually the attitude and its nice to have a reason to make shit happen. Alright, enough of the wise father talk, lets move on to tits and ass...<br />
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Growing up we didn't celbrate Christmas, it was only until my parents split and my mom thought it would be a good way to bring joy into the house. The first year, we got a tree, presents, lights, and all the christmassy shit a kid could want, felt like we were immigrants who has just come to America. Up until then Christmas had been this off limits holiday that white people celebrated and was farfetched for us to actually consider. So when it actually happened in December of 1997, it felt damn good, that plus cable, holy fuck, it was great, at least for me it was. The following year was a bit rough, mom had gotten really sick and it wasn't the greatest year financially. This sounds like some ancient story about the journey going west. So mom was really sick, sick to the point where she was just sitting on the bathroom floor completely drained as we aided her with fluids and what not. She would switch off between dry heaving and actually throwing up. I was 8 or 9 and my sis was about 12 or 13 and we hadn't seen a parent in need at that level so it was a bit intense. We still had the tree up because she wasn't sick at that point but afterwords I figured, well there wont be any Christmas this year and that was ok. A few days went by and mom was still sick so there DEFINTIELY wasn't going to be a Christmas. Meanwhile our neighbhors next door were stacking up presents like firewood, they'd come over and cross off their checklist, "skateboard, check" fuckers. On Christmas morning that year, we woke up and went to the living room not expecting anything but mom had some things for us, I was pretty excited. She gave us a Looney Tunes T-Shirt and a water gun each. Now that seems pretty funny/shitty and it is, we still joke about that till today, my mom got mad at me a few days later and ended up breaking my water gun so I actually only got a T-shirt that year. But yea, we joke about that Christmas all the time, she just called me two days ago and laughed about it so that makes this blog ok....Not callin my mom out for being broke and sick. Thinking back on that gesture my mom made, by actually thinking "oh shit, its Christmas and the kids wont have anything"....Just the fact that she thought of that, was HUGE, considering we had never celebrated Christmas before that, so she wasn't culturally programmed to make it a priority or of importance but she did, and that was so great of her to do. That year sticks with me, its impossible to forget, out of all the Christmas stories, that's literally the only one I FULLY remember. The other years are all jumbled, not that they were insignificant, no, they were awesome but not as memorable as the Christmas of 97.</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-46124094495584460912013-12-07T02:27:00.001-08:002021-02-25T17:47:41.588-08:00Donuts and Whores<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm sitting, well laying on my bed writing this after having eaten 6 slices of thin crust pizza and a bottle of Modelo. Any Modelo drinkers out there? I'm a fan of mexican beer, it just taste good. Mexican beer is the only kind of beer that I have an immediate liking for, the others ones I either have to lie, pretend like I appreciate the bitter hoppier taste or "craftsman ship". Mexicans win it over with me, I like the others but I love mexican.<br />
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By the way, if you haven't noticed by now, my past few blogs have had slightly unusual titles, I'm sure you can take a guess why I do this.... Well its partly for "marketing" reasons, cus I enjoy creating strategic mind fucking marking strategies plus I like to see how many word combinations I can come up with. So thats that.<br />
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People don't like whiners, unless they're non alcoholic whiners but fuck it, I've got some constructive whining to do. Its regarding my current status as an actor/comic, so far I'm not getting as many auditions as I'd like. This is quite normal but I'm not going to sit around and accept that, Its solution time. Some people don't mind riding it out and waiting, but I cant walk into another insurance audition where I play some faggy husband who's on the phone with NO ONE and giving fake facial reactions. And after giving my best faggy expressions, some other faggot books the spot. Its wasted talent. Its time for CHANGE, going with the obama theme. And by the way, he acts like he invented the act of CHANGE, what does he think all the other presidents were trying to do? Apparently Abe Lincoln was just fuckin around freeing slaves and what not. Going back to it, some CHANGE needs to be made and it will be. Actors are always expected to be at the lower end of things but that's doesn't sit well with me, I don't want to be overtly grateful for "BEING A PART" of something and being fortunate enough to participate as all actors are taught or told to do, FUCK THAT, I'm confident in what I have to offer and I'll respectfully take part in projects that I can offer my "services" and talent to. I say that with respect, not to wave my cock around. I just don't agree with this slave/owner relationship. This may not be a fresh thought, but I'm explaining my perspective on it. We've all tomato soup but everyone makes it a little different, or at least their essence is in it. At the end of the day, creating content is the best and most fun solution. <br />
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Stand up has changed as well. Now, stand up has become this sensitive, censored, politically correct, touchy platform that was once based on absolute raw speech. I LOVE RAW SPEECH, its the best fucking thing to come out since baklava. Stand up in the late 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's was awesome, stand ups were free to do their thing and deliver their take on things. People wanted to hear raw thought, whether they be Y,G,PG, PG-13, R or X-rated, all thoughts were created equal. New views, opinions and thoughts were appreciated and people couldn't wait to leave work, hop in the car or subway and head over to the comedy club to hear them. NOW, now comics are expected to show up at coffee shops or any place with a stage, pay 5 or more dollars, wait 2 or more hours a lot of the time, and play to a crowd full of comics who don't give a shit or to a bunch of pussied out sensitive crowd members. haha, I sound like such a scrooge, but I'm smiling as I write this because a lot of memories are coming to mind. You cant even say rape, nigger, fat, skinny, retarded, gay, fag, short, or anything race related without some faggot getting offended, literally and figuratively. Obviously if you get up and start a hate speech, then of course people are gonna want you to get the fuck out but the point of a COMEDY club is to express thoughts you find interesting and funny. Comics JOKE, not HATE, its simple. Whatever we talk about has a comedic root, there's no hate, even if its sounds like it comes from a place of hate, we're there to make fun of it, not to try and get assassinated on a nightly bases. I'm not running for fuckin congress, there's no march after the show, no bills are gonna be passed, no POW's are gonna be released although that would be nice, at best, at best you'll have one to many, get fucked up with your buddies and get a DUI. See its about havin a good time so stop getting your panties or thong in a twist. Just shut the fuck up, grab your girls tits and laugh.<br />
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I usually don't like repeating whats been stated in headline news but Paul Walker, man, definitely an influence and someone I grew up watching since age 12. He's been a part of my movie experience for the past 13 years and I along with a lot of other 12yr olds had a BLAST watching his movies. For some reason, his death really made me sad, a lot of actors and entertainers die of various causes, accidents, OD's, suicides and what not, but hearing about Paul Walkers was exceptionally sad for me. I was a fan but I didn't idolize him, yet I feel as if I lost someone I closely admired. I guess it comes down to me not wanting to see someone who had a good presence and quality to them, go so soon. Well I'm glad you got to be in movies I enjoyed watching and hope you enjoyed your awesome time on earth. <br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-48950561142944998972013-12-03T10:25:00.001-08:002014-01-24T15:03:01.318-08:00Cream and Sugar Please<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I really enjoy expanding my mind. I love reading self help books, motivational books, books on successful people, basically I'll read any book that can help me further expand and gain control over my mind. You'd think god would give you the power to control your mind but he didn't. To have absolute control over your mind and emotions is an actual practice that really takes time and commitment like working out in the gym. This is nothing new, monks have been doing it for centuries but I'm not a monk, I'm a regular guy. Everyone thinks that you need to be a monk or Yogi or some strange spiritual person to change your mindset but you really don't. For me its been a mixture of Arnold Schwartzenegger, Steven Pressfield, Sylvester Stallone and Tony Robbins. These are the people I've used in order to train my mind to think "positively" but better said, progressively. Thinking positively makes you sound like some whimsical fool caught up in your own fantasy of what life should be, but thinking positively goes way deeper than simply "thinking" positive. For me, thinking positive is about thinking of the future and leaving the past behind. Doing this has helped me tremendously because it doesn't allow me to dwell, and dwelling is what eats you up. For instance, if you spill something or drop a glass, it can effect you if you let it. You start feeling embarrassed, clumsy, childish, "grown ups don't spill or break things". And especially when other people around you make it a big deal. You ever go to someones house and something spills or gets dropped but everyone carries on talking and laughing as though nothing happened...I like that approach, I'm not saying you should spill, break, crash into people while driving and not give a fuck, but if you do get in an accident, just focus on the solution, that's it. You've heard this a thousand times "think of the solution, not the problem", everyone loves to hear that but hardly anyone truly puts it into practice. When you actually practice and implement it into your life, you'll handle things much differently and feel a lot better. I'm tired of everyone thinking that this mind set is unattainable or only suited for those "over joyous", "enlightened" people, its not. It really is a choice, one that anyone can make but may not necessarily have the insight, awareness or belief in themselves to do so. Going with the theme, think I'll go pick up the kids from school now and be the daddy I sound like.</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-61175008064854852472013-11-22T01:33:00.002-08:002013-11-22T01:33:33.365-08:00First Impressions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Let me start off on a positive note, I hate first impressions. There's nothing faggier than a first impression, you either give a complete false image of yourself for which people will talk copious amounts of shit, OR, or you give a true representation of yourself for which 90% will talk copious amounts of shit. SO, breaking it down, you're better off being your strange fucked up self, than a flavorless, watered down mocktail because it ends up being the same shit.<br />
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Why, WHY must we use Ice Breakers. I'd love to slap the faggot who coined that term and has forced us all to introduce ourselves using this retarded system. You cant just go up to someone and say, "hey whats up?". Of course you can Yuvi. I'VE TRIED!!! People get freaked the fuck out, they look at you like you're a lion asking a zebra for directions. Instead, you have to use some bullshit green lit phrase that's socially acceptable, like bringing up sports. Walk up to complete stranger, "hey did you hear they traded........" yadda yadda yadda, who gives a fuck! And bingo, you should see how calm and naturally people respond, "oh I know, I can't believe it, he kept fumbling the ball so I guess they had too.....(wait, who the fuck am I talking to.......ah, who gives a shit). <br />
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Some people think they're having such deep conversations when they're totally NOT. Some people think deep conversations consist of talking about someone elses relationship issues and really breaking it down, "yea I mean, if thats the way he treats her I don't understand why she cant see that he's not going to change....... "I know, I thought she knew that........" Oh my GOD! Shut the fuck up!!!! These are the moronic things I constantly hear that drive me nuts. I hear it at Trader Joes, Costco, Ralphs, Yogurtland. Now you know where I shop. Well, thats that for now. I'm gonna go to sleep, well I'll probably watch some youtube clips of zoo animals taking shits, THEN go to sleep. Nighty night.<br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-30479671532487622522013-09-28T13:14:00.001-07:002013-10-01T00:33:32.951-07:00Do you Juice?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Do you juice? I love kale, can I have some extra pine nuts in mine please, Bee pollen, Kongen water, Almond milk, I've been cleansing, My shit is clear, I hate splenda, I love fro-yo, Low glycemic, gluten free, cage free, organic, free range, grass fed, coconut oil, RAW, seaweed.....<br />
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JUICING!!!!! I've been Juicing, cleansing, detoxing... What the hells this sudden urge to cleanse and detox. Who the hell decided that this was necessary and regular eating methods just weren't cutting it? Was this person's body so toxic and polluted that they just needed instant absorption, chewing the broccoli was just too time consuming so fuck it, I'll drink it, as a matter of fact, I'll drink everything. And then others caught on and decided, yea fuck chewing, its all about slurping. We've all gone back to an infant state. Babies and grown ups are eating the same shit, except babies get there's in fancy premade containers while we're stuck making our own. Blended TV dinners? Tired of slogging for hours in the kitchen while your baby eats in peace? Now you can tighten up the bond time with "Blender bites", share a meal with your baby. Who needs teeth anymore, we lose and grow teeth for what? Each tooth has a purpose, molars are for grinding, canines are for cutting, but now, who needs them. Now teeth are simply an accessory, they're obsolete, as long as they're white, who gives a shit. Floss, tooth picks and mouth wash have no purpose, no one's getting anything stuck in their teeth, liquified steak and potatoes doesn't really get stuck anywhere except your colon. Pretty soon people are going to be telling their favorite chewing stories, "I remember the good old days when we would chew our food 32 times", " hahah, thats hilarious grandpa", "You kids have it easy now". <br />
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Food is fuckin weird these days, more people like Kale and Seaweed than they do Ice Cream. And when sushi hit the seen, EVERYONE LOVED IT. Who the fuck likes raw fish THAT much? When did eel gain mass appeal, did the Japanese stick probes up our asses and rewire our taste buds? Everything now days is Organic, free range, grass fed, Cage free, gluten free, low glycemic.... low glycemic? when the fuck did low glycemic become part of everyday vernacular? This is a low glycemic sweeter so we're just gonnna give it 20-30 squirts, its ok cus its low glycemic so your limbs wont fall off right away. Pretty soon its gonna be, "Hey can I get a glass of water man"? "Sure, our water is 100% cage free organic and is served in a cup made of recycled hair". Nevermind, think I'll get a Big Gulp. We're getting carried away with all this FREE RANGE, CAGE FREE, GRASS FED talk, its not a god damn paradise, these animals are still being killed for consumption, WHICH IS FINE, ITS OK, but don't make it sound like they get a fuckin spa treatment. Its gotten to the point where discussing your diet is a "THING", you hear fuckers at Starbucks chatting about going green, and 2 day cleanses, eating RAW, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! Whats society come to? I'm rebelling against something that isn't rebellion worthy but I have to. If I hear another person talking about Kale, I'm gonna throw their balls in a juicer and serve them on ice. I cant even talk about things I want anymore without being categorized as one of these juicing faggots. Its like I have to go to some secret meet up and whisper it, "Yo I made a kale, apple, blueberry.....oh shit you hear that, THEY FOUND US"!! <br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-54224396531617175972013-09-17T21:42:00.001-07:002013-10-01T00:38:58.083-07:00Pussy and Guns<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Pussy and Guns is a fun title, I might talk about Pussy, I might talk about guns, or I might not talk about either. Pussy and Guns never get old, they've been around for soooo long and people get really riled up over both. We protect the pussy with laws, thats such an odd thing, same goes for guns but thats a bit more understandable I guess, guns can kill, but so can pussy. Not everyone deserves a pussy, some people should simply be denied one, like a credit card. You can do a lot of damage with a pussy; give people aids and all sorts of fucked up diseases, birth defects, heart aches, loss of self esteem, make a nigga broke, fuck up a family, blue balls....it goes on. NOW, if given to the right person, pussy can make a nigga a lot of money, bring a family together(You got yo self some good pussy right there) everyone will be raving about it, like a good meal, all sickness will be cured because that's what good pussy does, your kids will come out BEAUTIFUL, like seeing your car come out the wash after they put a few layers of turtle wax on that bitch.<br />
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Guns, guns have saved a lot of lives, and they've taken a lot as well. In the right hands, guns are great, they can bring Independence, good meals, blankets, shoes, socks, belts, boots and more. I wouldn't have half the shit I have if it weren't for guns, I wouldn't have grown up they way I did, I might have been a ricksha driver in Delhi for all I know. Like it or not, guns have won a lot of battles that have given us a lot of good shit. For example, without guns we wouldn't have hicks, and without hicks, we would have to do a lot of shitty things, like loose teeth, get knocked up at rodeo after parties, and fight wars. And without guns we wouldn't have shows like Duck Dynasty which are absolutely retarded but amazing. Don't you realize how great guns are now?!!! Don't you see, guns just make these peoples' lives worthwhile, because without them, they'd be absolutely lost, and they'd just start fucking up societies natural rhythm. What would they do? You see, now that they have their true calling, they're out of our hair, SO PLEASE, PLEASE don't take away their guns, cus the last thing we want is to be surrounded with people in camouflage gear and missing teeth, taking our temperature, giving us prescriptions, performing surgery, baby sitting our kids, giving us oral surgery, representing us in court, or sleeping with our wives. <br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-40112706329689218102013-09-07T19:16:00.001-07:002013-09-07T19:16:12.494-07:00Start Up Companies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm tired of hearing about Start Up Companies, every godamn person you talk is starting one and I never know what its about, "oh well we help people connect by connecting the connection so the connectivity.........WHAT THE HELL DO YOU DO? I don't even think they know, they just wanna jump into this giant pool of innovation without knowing what the fuck they have to offer. I've got one to, its called geni-tal, what WE do is we help people connect to their genitals by connecting their hands to their lower region creating a connection. Holy shit isn't this great?! Well join us at our seminar this Wednesday evening, yea I think I'll just go do my own connecting, just me, my laptop and my right hand.<br />
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When you talk to these bastards, each one thinks he or she's the next Steve or Stephanie Jobs. Now thats not a bad thing, but when your product is scented paperclips, just save everyone some time and stay the hell home, we don't need to dry clean our clothes, drive out to some shitty convention center, eat shitty hors d'oeuvres, and then listen to your shittier spiel. I get it, everyone's licking lolly pops and now you want one too. <br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-16814728170411459612013-01-30T00:39:00.003-08:002013-01-30T12:47:31.253-08:00Dot dot dot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi I'm a blogger and I like to document all the cool shit in my life, well its cool to me. Should I blog about cool art pieces that I don't know two shits about, "eclectic art collection" that is the most pretentious fucking phrase. What does that mean, that you feel the need to collect various different pieces of art, heaven forbid you have too much of the same shit, then you'd just be an uneclectic classless faggot right? People love to hang shit up in their houses, condos, lofts, or flats as the english like to call them, just for the sake of covering their moldy, hole ridden walls. Its funny that bare walls just aren't cool, you have to cover them up with shit, like you're ashamed of them. I guess that how ugly people feel, yes that was mean but I thought we'd passed that point by now. When will you just be able to refer to ugly people as ugly, or black people as black people without some faggot correcting you....haha, I'm enjoying this so far, I feel like a freshly liberated slave. It feels really nice being able to say the shit thats in my head without it having to correlate to some message or meaning. It gets exhausting always having to make sense, sometimes you just wanna say something without having to explain what you mean. In those cases, either your explanation and ability to communicate clearly is shitty, or the other person is a moron. If we're standing face to face and I'm explaining something to the best of ability and at the end you say , wait what? Then either you're a godamn moron and I'm a fool who thinks he's articulate, or we're both morons. After having worked a sales job for about 2 months now, I see a lot of people, fat ones, skinny ones, ugly ones, hot ones, deathly ones, some people look like walking corpses, blue ass skin, droopy faces and yellow eyes, shitty circulation. As I stand there, the influx of hot women can be overwhelming, most days I have an 8hr erection. Its those fucking form fitting tights, that are just hugging their buttocks with every fiber of thread. Tights are my cryptonite. At this point women either just love them for the comfort OR, or they know that they will get every man in the vicinity hard. I wonder if thats what they think? Some women definitely are aware of their assets and intentionally wear them to strut their shit, then there are those women who like to act oblivious to the fact that their ass is exposed and is bouncing up and down with each footstep as they casually walk around putting blueberries and mango slices in their carts giving men involuntary erections. Women think THEY get taken advantage of?? Try being a guy and having no control of your cock, you know how stressful it is trying to conceal a boner while waiting in line to buy batteries.................</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-28547859019595677442013-01-03T17:08:00.000-08:002013-01-28T01:18:04.220-08:00well THAT was fun<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
well THAT was fun. Coming back from a vacation can leave you feeling a little sad, a little nice, a little lonely, a little peaceful, a little empty, a little drained and a little hungry. These are some of the things I feel after coming back from a vacation. Before you go you're excited and ready for action, thats the beauty of beginnings, any beginning. Whether its a movie, a vacation, a rollercoaster, a relationship, a walk, a talk, a meal, a dream, a game, a career, a song...These are all great beginnings and we dont want them to end, but like everything, all great things must come to an end. I'm not sure why god decided to do that, so we could appreciate life more? So we could cherrish "the" moment? So we don't become lazy or greedy? Why is life all about working for something and not just being given enough to live on...The answer is obvious, to have an advantage over others, THAT is the one reason life is a rat race, so that we can have a status imbalance. Everyone else gets fucked because a few guys want to have 30,000 square foot houses, and own islands, and have 3 rolls royces instead of 1, or 2 private jets instead of one incase the other gets a flat tire. This is the type of shit that makes us live the rate race we live in, well that and pussy. But no need to talk about that cus its nothing new, the only differences between now and back then is that women shave them now. I hate rats and I hate races, and there's nothing worse than combining two shitty things, they only become shittier. Rich people take the most vacations, simply because they can, you'd do it, I'd do it. Although they go on "Vacation" it simply starts losing the effect of a <b>Vacaction </b>after undeserved vacations are taken. Now I'm not saying you have to deserve a vacation, if you have the money, GO. BUT, a vacation to a rich guy doesn't even come CLOSE to what a vacation is for a less well off fellow. Its not about going to Santorini or Rome and staying in a 5 star, its about having someone cook you a warm meal, do your laundry and when you come to get it, its folded. Or having someone say, "save some for Yuvi" or wait, "Yuvi's coming with us" or "I've made your bed upstairs". THATS a vacation, the little things that get lost in your own life that are brought back to you by others. Its not the thread count and the type of linen, its knowing that the linen has been designated to you. This isn't supposed to sound like some "save the children" speech, but sometimes certain events make you think and analyze the present moment. All in all, next time you say "damn I need a vacation", you don't always have to go to Rome or Santorini to experience it.</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-57912351337202496112012-12-22T19:04:00.000-08:002012-12-22T19:15:11.495-08:00Holy-Days<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Holidays are fun in the sun. In the snow, water, wherever. Holidays are usually a time when you have an excuse not to do anything, you sit around, scratch your big hairy nuts, drink hot chocolate and give work the finger. But it never ends up being like that, sure you'll scratch your nuts, cant miss that, but you never just end up doing nothing, instead there's always an endless amount of shit you have to do. I remember all my holiday get togethers. First you have to prepare yourself mentally for the Tsunami of family that is going to come thrashing through your house, stripping you of your privacy, self esteem, and any other comfort you may have been stashing in your secret spot. But tis the season, so you have to remind yourself that all this shit is in good fortune. After they arrive and you accept it, you actually have to put up with it, they start asking you questions about school(even though you graduated 2 years ago), then they'll hit you with some more generic questions, do you have a girlfriend? so you answer, yes I do, and I fuck her a lot. That's what you want to say, but you know they cant handle that response nor do you want to tell them anything truthful, I mean, these people don't want to hear the truth, they want to hear the same generic shit they asked you so that they don't have to engage in honest, meaningful conversation with you. You see, life, and holidays in particular, are a time of endless formalities. "Hi how are you"(not that you give a fuck), Hi how's school(not that you give a fuck), Hi, hows your girlfriend(I never told you shit about a girlfriend, but not that you give a fuck), Hi, so what're you doing these days(not that you give a fuck about my well being, just want to hear my struggles), Hi, hows................By this point you just want to stick their head into cauldron of boiling tea. At this point, you find yourself talking less, and then these vultures come back for seconds, "Hi, so quite, are you not feeling well, why don't you come join....." Come join, come join what? Some more bullshit conversation about someone's son who just got into medical school, or someone's daughter who just got divorced, or how someone's mother in law got breast implants at age 60 and as she was walking down the stairs she tripped and fell onto a nail and one of her tits popped on impact.....well maybe not the last one, I would've gone over for that one. Can someone pour me a scotch on the rocks? 3 ice cubes, and use filtered water please. That's the worst, when you realize your ice cube has a piece of food in the middle of it, and its just dissolving in your drink, releasing its shitty flavor as you race against time trying finish it before your scotch ends up being chicken broth. Cheers to that. What was my point of this, well, there is no ONE point, can't I just say some shit without there having to be a defined purpose, that was a rhetorical question so it doesn't matter what your answer was. Anyways people my point was, get as hammered as you can when you're around family, the conversations will all start making sense. In fact, roofie the entire family and just see how cool and supportive everyone gets. The holiday spirit will just pour out of them, they'll either piss, shit or puke it out but hey, at least it'll come out. I leave you at that my friends. Well Happy Holidays you filthy animals, and a happy new year.<br />
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Your one and only Friend,<br />
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-Yuvi</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-70060580638794909032012-12-16T23:04:00.001-08:002012-12-17T01:09:17.621-08:00As Odd as It Gets<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
From a pumpkin patch worker to a bouncer, these are some of the jobs I've had. I've had a lot of odd jobs and not that I hunted for them, rather they just presented themselves to me. I feel like you're destined for whatever happens to you. My first odd job was a knife salesman, I had to go around with this cloth briefcase full of knives and hoped that people would be interested. Now, I didn't just walk up to the door with a bag of knives and ask to come in, that would be fucking ridiculous, no no, I made appointments with these people and they ALLOWED me to come in. I gave them my best knife pitch or what I thought to be my best and watched as their faces filled with doubt and indifference. Initially it didn't bother me but after a while of not selling anything and having to drive my mom's car around to various houses, I felt like stabbing someone. I didn't end up stabbing anyone, I still needed the money. Since I wasn't selling, I needed to come up with a good money making scheme, which I then did. I began going around my neighborhood and handed out my demo slips asking people to sign them, you see, for every demo I was given $14, so after racking up these slips, I was going to cash out. Only problem was, 200 "demos" later, I hadn't sold shit and my boss knew I was lying out of my mind.<br />
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After that I worked at a pumpkin patch, again, not out of choice. That job was in college, I needed some quick cash and they needed some quick labor. Here I was pursuing my bachelors and working at a pumpkin patch where illiterate Mexican workers had seniority over me. I was their bitch. I would come home smelling like goats and farm. The only fun part was watching parents discipline their kids in public, and hold back their pimp hand. Besides goats, mexicans, pissed off parents and shit pay, that job was a hit it and quit it.<br />
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Then I became a scare actor at Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights. This was the most liberating job I could've asked for, I could finally just chase people, scare the shit outta them and be applauded for it. I was able to exercise my inner freak and it was great. I would walk up behind people and just start screaming any senseless shit I felt like at the moment, and they couldn't judge me! I was just doing my job. Sometimes I would just stare at people as they ate their breadsticks and tried their best to ignore me. Some people got pissed at me, usually over protective boyfriends because they wanted to get some pussy later on that night, but then I'd just fuck with them. How dumb did they look getting in a fight with a vampire? Fuckin fools, plus they paid to get in. That was a great gig, minus the long hours. You'd think it was all fun n scares, but it wasn't. The scariest part believe it or not was the drive back home. I did this job 4 nights a week, Thurs-Sunday. I would go to class from 8 am to 3pm, then I'd drive straight to Los Angles from Irvine, I'd start work at 5pm and end at 3am. I was fucking EXHAUSTED, I could barely keep my eyes open, I looked like a stoned asian. My friend Shawn and I worked the job together so you'd think I would have company to keep me awake, wrong. He was so tired, he would fall asleep, leaving my asian ass to drive along barely knowing where the fuck I was. One night I was so fucked up that on the way home, I took a wrong exit and ended up in anaheim, then I got back on track and drove back to anaheim again, I felt like I was on acid. FINALLY, after figuring out where the fuck I was, I made it back home, it was 5am, I had class at 8am. FUCK. I was a hamster on a wheel. <br />
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Next was bouncing, yes I know I'm small, I don't weigh 300 lbs and have a ponytail but hey, they offered me the job, so fuck it, I took it. This was a cool gig, all I did was get suited, look pretty and stare at bitche's booties. Now I'm not a clubber, ask anyone, I hate everything about them, the people, the smell of shitty perfume, the mirrors and lights everywhere, the music, the sound of people's bullshit conversations, the sound of pleather squeaking, fuckin everything. BUT, but for once, I got to do what I enjoy most, people watch/ass stare. I could finally just stand there and stare at people without having to explain myself, it was fucking great. Girls would come up to me and rub my velvet coat, and sometimes they'd start grinding up on me and I'd just stand there and stay in character. It felt nice being able to swat bitches away like flies and crush their self esteem a little, "yea bitch, don't think that you can just come and grind on me and I'll just follow the bread crumbs" I was able to do all the shit I'd been wanting to try all these years without looking like a fuckin weirdo. I only did this for 4 1/2 months, but I got some good stories out of it. My last gig as a bouncer was working the Halloween party at the Play Boy Mansion. This was more for the story than anything, it was exactly what you could imagine, a bunch of half naked/naked bitches running around tripping and falling onto big rich cocks. I didn't see Heff's old wrinkly ass, he was probably busy contemplating fucking his 25 year old wife but wondering if his 85 year old heart could keep up. I saw more fake tits, fake ass, fake lips, fake cheeks, fake teeth, fake personalities, fuckin fake everything! than I could've imagined. It was nice to get outta there, definitely not my scene.<br />
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My most current gig is a UPS driver helper. That basically means that I'm the drivers bitch, I sit in the passenger seat and drop off the boxes and get paid $8.50 while he gets $34 hrly. But its not that bad, you know why...because the area we cover happens to be movie star territory, its the Hollywood Hills. So I'm sitting here delivering packages, but not to your ordinary clientele, the other day I pulled up to a house that looked like a life size barbie house, a swing in the front, fuckin apple trees everywhere, ornaments hanging, and you know who was inside...Richard Simmons. And let me tell you, he was fuckin RICHARD, didn't hold back shit, he cut to the chase, asked me my background as he eye fucked me and undressed me with his eyes. He offered me water or soda, I said water, then he told me how much sugar cane is used in one can, 33 meters apparently. He was really nice, before I left he gave me one of his motivational wrist bands and eye fucked me again. After Richard, I met JC Chasez, one of the backstreet boys, and right after, the legendary John Carpenter, then Jimmy Kimmel. I was delivering packages to these motherfuckers that I'd seen on TV my entire life and it was surreal. In ways it was like one of these strange fucked up dreams you have where you say "yea, I had a dream where I was a UPS driver and I delivered a package to Richard Simmons, he eye fucked me, gave me some water and told me how much sugar was in a can of soda". I soon realized that this UPS gig was just about as cool as it could get, if I was gonna deliver packages, it better be to entertainment icons.<br />
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Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-13512758778771185912012-12-05T23:52:00.003-08:002023-01-18T10:55:37.487-08:00Tales of A Corporate Misfit <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I hate offices, I hate everything about them. The way they smell, coffee, toner and self doubt, the way they look, contemporary furniture as if that's gonna make sitting at your shitty cubicle any better, and lastly, the false sense of comfort they give you with a kitchen, not like we're all gonna huddle in the kitchen and drink hot chocolate and talk to one another as equals, no, its only there to make you feel sub human. So you can pour your coffee and mix in that powdered breast milk they call creamer. Apparently coffee and trail mix keep you from slitting your throat with a stack of printer paper. Office humor never worked with me, you have these boundaries you have to stay within and there's always one guy who thinks he's a comedy god with his bullshit "office approved" humor. What a fag. I'm one of those guys who has a great sense of humor but can never adjust to office approved humor, if I try this type of humor I sound like a complete fucking idiot, but if I try MY sense of humor, I'd get fired. So which do I pick, neither. So what does that make me? The faggy intern. That brings me to my next point. I hate how the title of an "Intern" strips you of your personality because you're completely engulfed by servitude. I get that an internship is about proving yourself and I'm all about that, I don't shirk work or half ass anything, I just want to shoot the shit with these people without having to cut through this thick membrane of hierarchy. Is that too much to ask? Can we speak as humans? We all had the same civil rights last time I checked.<br />
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PHONES, jesus christ! I've been using one of these fucking things my entire life but for SOME UNKNOWN reason, when it comes to handling phones in an office, I feel like an immigrant trying to order a pizza. Transferring calls is one of the most confusing functions I have ever dealt with, why you may ask? I'll fuckin tell you why, because you cant just answer like you normally would, there's all this bullshit protocol. It's not "Hi or hello" I mean that makes no sense, why would you greet someone like we've been doing for thousands of years. No, instead its, "Lightning Pictures......yes one second please, no that's one moment please, one second is too casual, be more formal" Oh ok, gotcha, or how bout, fuck off please, let me answer the fucking phone please, stop looking over my shoulder please, why don't you go make some fucking coffee please, I think those sound better. And its never simple, if someone calls for John, I forward it to shawn, if someone calls for josh, I don't pick up, if its for Cathy I forward it to Allison who is one of Cathy's assistants, but if Allisons busy then I forward it to Shawn who is John's assistant. What the hell!!? Why can't I just go over to Cathy and be like "Hey bitch, there's a call for you so fuckin pick up"....and no I'm not transferring it because you're right fuckin next to me and can hear the phone ringing in my hand. You cant answer your own phone call...... That's when you know you're sitting on some fictional throne that not even the Greek Gods know of.</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-21853816196805606622012-11-24T22:48:00.001-08:002012-11-24T22:48:36.287-08:00Thanks For Giving <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Of course, I just had to lose my job right around thanks giving, yea thanks, thanks for making me wear a hair net AND, and a fucking beard net and then cutting me loose. ANYWAY, how you guys doin? I hope you stuffed your fat asses with turkey. I wonder how it would feel to have someone cram stuffing up your ass, imagine that..... I enjoy this time of year, its such a simple holiday and in my book, it deserves all the acclaim it gets. We simply get together with people we love, cherish, enjoy hanging out with, wanna fuck,have fucked, and stuff our faces with the food of the pilgrims. I'm glad we've upgraded past tasteless turkey and discovered flavor although some people haven't found it yet. The eating part is great, the family is great, the festivities are great, but by the end of it you feel like a cow, just farting and releasing methane into the atmosphere. My dads definition of a fart "its the air that passes over the shit, that's why you have to keep you interstines clean". He always claims that his farts don't smell, a guy so self confident that he believes his shit don't stink, now THATS BOLD. One thing that always got to me was white people's whole "giving thanks" bit. You see, everyone else(meaning foreigners and outsiders), are already thankful for the food we receive, so thankful that we don't have time to acknowledge it, we just eat it while we know its still on our plate. Only in America will you pause, look at your plate, and say "OH THANK YOU", you go to Africa and that shit would be gone before you said "O...". Eat while it's there. Being broke during black friday, how ironic. Well, that's me, but I have a trick to overcome it, I refuse to look at any of the sales. Yeup, it's quite simple, don't stare at the big shiny diamond and you wont want it, well you wont want it AS much. Side note, whats the deal with saunas? Did someone want to profit off their near death experience of dying in an oven? </div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-66415314132802546102012-11-15T15:05:00.001-08:002012-11-19T13:30:39.392-08:00Free At Last<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
First and fore most, howdy dooty to everyone. I just came back from the mother land, my mother land, India, what a wonderful place. This has been my fifth visit in the past 6 years and I'd say its been the most influential. I saw things and met people that have really made me question the " absolute excellence" of the quality of life in the states. Red, white and blue isn't necessarily the best, there are somethings that white, orange and green can offer that we lack. I really enjoyed the feeling of care and true brotherhood. People there are just more friendly and welcoming, you say hi to someone here, and a few things go through their mind(who the hell is that, what a creep, he looks like a rapist), completely fucked thinking. Trust me, I'm speaking from experience. While in India, I was waiting in line for the bathroom, and this guy literally had his chin on my shoulder, not giving a damn, just simply waiting. I started thinking, what the hell is goin on with this guy? I was about to say excuse me, can I have a little space, but when I twisted my neck to tell him, he looked so comfortable and non threatening. I realized he didn't have bad intentions, he just felt I was another Indian guy waiting in line and that we had a connection based on our place of origin and culture. I started noticing more of this type of behavior, as people passed me and accidentally nudged or bumped me, they would simply run their hand down my back as a parent does when comforting you. It was really nice. I feel that here in the states, our first reaction is always defensive and that's sad. Now I'm not saying when some random person comes up to you and starts touching you everywhere that you simply embrace them, no of course not, there are weirdos out there, I'm one of them, but try and feel them out before you react. Basically, don't treat someone like a thief BEFORE they steal something. If I didn't rip off your pearl necklace, don't act like I did, that shits not nice/courteous. Well besides that, I ate a BUNCH of awesome food, shit was delicious. Fresh goat curry, fresh Keema Naan(minced meat stuffed into bread), fresh jalebi, kulfi, and anything else that was edible; I'm telling you, it was well worth getting the shits. <br />
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Apart from that, I had GREAT conversations with my dad, a big burly guy who epitomizes the true nature of a man. Although me and my dad have opposing ideologies and thoughts on many things, there is a common ground where we share strong beliefs and have similar principles. Now this may be due to our relationship, since I'm his son he respects my ideas more so than he would someone else who had the same thoughts, after all, how shitty is it as a parent to have complete disconnect from your child. Growing up from age 7 and beyond, I would see my dad every 2-3 years and every year if I was lucky. You're probably wondering why our meetings were so spread apart, ha, well it wasn't because I didn't want to come out of my room, or because we didn't get a long, no, its because after my parents divorced, he decided America wasn't cut out for him so he said "fuck it"(in english too) so you know he meant it. You would think this would create a lot of communication gaps between us, which it did, no matter what you think, you can never truly make up for time, just doesn't work. In saying that, my dad and I still managed to keep our communication flow pretty strong and as a father he instilled that in me. I could tell him ANYTHING, no matter how fucked, good, bad, ugly, sexual, uncomfortable, he could handle it, and boy could he handle it. My dad now knows my deepest down secrets, I'm not talking about shit like "hey dad, I was the one who scratched the car", NO. He knows the core of my artichoke, my principles, my beliefs, my sexual history(all the shit I've done) and from now on, there isn't shit I can't tell him. And it wasn't a one way street, all that I told him, he told me, its interesting at 24 to find out what your Indian fathers favorite sex position is, and let me tell you, I agree with him on it. haha</div>
Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-33810967458279280002010-12-14T01:22:00.000-08:002023-01-18T10:55:50.852-08:00That GirlHa, there's always that girl. That girl who makes you smile every time you see her, that girl who makes you walk the longer way just so you don't have to see her, that girl u keep trying to say hi to but she constantly manages to dodge you, that girl that you see everyday but never say anything to, that girl who fucked you over but you still dwell on her like she actually DID care, that girl who caught your eye but thats about it, that girl you just want to hug, that girl you want to kiss, that girl you want to do the NASTY with and get dirty, that girl who you want to knock the fuck out, that girl who you want to give a wedgie to until it hurts, that girl whose head you want to dunk into a bucket of boiling water, that girl who didn't give two shits about you and now all of a sudden does, that girl who hated on you when you weren't "as cool" and now you got it goin on, and then....... and then there's THAT girl, who makes you lose your composure when you see her, who makes you melt inside and lose ur shit, who makes you say one dumb thing after another because your mouth and brain aren't co-operating due to the "poison ivy" effect, that is when a girl has you in a trance due to some type of chemical/pheromone she releases. The girl who makes you loose your "cool guy" persona, that you lose as soon as she walks in the door, who gives you a tingly feeling inside, that girl who makes you stutter, who makes you think, "Is she the one?" or maybe just another nightmare in disguise? whatever, i'll just go with the flow and see what she brings to the table. that girl who you think about while drinking a glass of Tropicana Simply Orange because something about the citrus and sweetness of the orange just reminds you of her, or when you brush your teeth, you think of her teeth and her smile, that girl who has the softest most luscious lips you've ever kissed, that girl who's kiss you crave, that girl whose hips you cant wait to caress, whose hair you cant wait to smell and stroke, that girl whose eyes you want to gaze into as you contemplate when to kiss her, is it too soon?, should i move my leg so i can go in smooth?, oh shit I just elbowed her, should my hand be touching her hand, should i just go for it, what if she doesn't want it, should i ask permission? no thats stupid, I'm a man, and dam it I'll kiss her if I want to.......fuck, here come the butterflies again, i think I need to drink a can of "OFF", ok i'm gonna do it, ahhh shit whats holding me back, why am i sitting so awkwardly? ok, fuck it, i'm doing it for real this time, here i go, i look at her, and go in for it........ok i think she liked it, ok, she gave me "the look", the ok, I'm in, now I can let my lips do the rest of the talking, it feels like our lips are ball room dancing with occasional bursts of break dancing. The power of touch never fails to amaze me, I love everything about it, the feeling you get when someone transfers their emotions through a body part=BeautyYuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-86327517662688060752010-06-15T01:34:00.000-07:002010-06-15T05:01:31.951-07:00Tomorrows forecast?My life seems to throw a lot of fast balls at me, mostly caused by my own disorganized life style. Man oh man, my mind is like a big pot of gumbo, all sorts or shit floating around without knowing exactly what it is. the big chunks in the pot are usually late fees i havent paid or some type of negative news, those are harder to chew. I always find my self in some sort of pickle, ha, i never use that phrase, soo white, but whatever. I was driving around today and thought, mmh, haven't heard anything from my insurance company, let me givem a ring, turns out that my insurance was inactive, it had been like that for about 2 months. speaking of 2 months, I had lost my license 2 months ago and didn't bother to get a replacement till last week. It made me think, knowing how shitty my luck is, THANK GOD i didn't get pulled over, i didn't have insurance or a fucking license. That would have been shiiiiiiiity!! How would i explain that, well the license part woulda been ok, i coulda just said, oh yea officer weinheimer(real cop I met in canada, whata dick), sorry but i actually lost my license yesterday but i'm in the process of getting a new one. And that woulda been cool. but then, the insurance part woulda been a little tricky, uh sorry officer weinheimer but my insurance got canceled because of my own idiocy, ya see, i forgot to renew it so they canceled it, and here i am, no license or insurance, you think you could let me off with a warning this time. The fuck out. That was that, then I went to a club last night, bought a few drinks too many, had to carry around my passport cus my license hasn't come, almost lost my atm card, luckily i was sober enough to find it, i was supposed to go to six flags today but luckily i was too drunk to get up, and later I decided to check my account just to see what was up, turned out that I only had 80 bucks in it. Now to some, 80 isn't bad, but when you're used to having thousands of dollars in your account(thanks to financial aid) its a little unsettling. It'd be like kobe bryant waking up in an apartment in compton. Luckily my roommates owed me rent so i immediately made a deposit. This got me thinking about my future, being an entertainer, I will be faced with these types of situations, i may be broke. That was my first taste of being broke, but i still had the safety net of school and government funds. Something i wont have in the future. I hadn't felt the lack of money, since I was in highschool. When your at home, you live according to your families means, which in my case was quite humble or a little less. I was still able to get cool things here and there but college really allows you to live the lifestyle YOU want to live. You explore more, you buy the things YOU want because they are you, and no one else has a say. But with freedom comes responsibilities, like making sure you pay your bills, you have food in the fridge, making sure your account is in check, not getting pressured by friends to go out and spend ridiculous amounts of money on drinks and club ho's(you know who you are), and not throwing money around like its monopoly. My problem is that i'm a spender, I like to spend the money i have, financial aid is dangerous in my hands. If i could, i'd buy a house with my grant money, people'd be like, dam yuvi, where'd you get this house, i'd be like, financial aid homie. Thats right, usin my aid to put a roof over my head, literally. But i gotta learn to be a little wiser, maybe i'll start hangin out with jews, or middle aged indian guys. Sometimes i think, it doesn't suit me to be frugal or poor, I have to be rich. I can see myself in the future driving nice cars, wearing nice clothes, I can't picture myself in a honda accord the rest of my life, I can see myself driving a nice black porche carerra, with black interior, with a bangin sound system and some good music. uh that sounds good. But, you never know what awaits you. That goes for the women in my life, or the lack there of. Sometimes I think its a curse to have an "interesting" personality, because the more character you have, the more complicated you become. People get intimidated by strong personalities, me being one. In a way, people are afraid to talk to me, I can sense it. Now, i'm not dwelling on it, just think that people have grown too comfortable with dealing with unoriginal, mundane personalities. Thats why i know that when i meet MY girl, she's gonna be crazy special. there will be no one else like her, and she probably wont date many guys because it takes a special someone to be able to handle her. You see, the more a guy or a girl dates, just means that he or she is able to mix with many people, which in return means that they lack character. average people mingle with other average people, and the select few who are different have a tighter circle, because there are less of us. I really appreciate the friends I have because I know they are truly special people, they are interesting individuals who offer something special to the world. I went off on a lot of random tangents but thats the way life is, it hits you with a lot of ups, downs, curves on so forth. While trying to encourage me, my dad told me, " Yuvi, life is like a life line, the more ups and downs you have the better, because once the line goes flat, its all bad news". that was one of the best examples my dad or anyone has given me because it changed my perception of life. Even with the weather channel, you never know tomorrows forecast, could be sunny, or could be cloudy as hell. bust out the shorts, but bring an umbrella in case.Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-46606605547528950902010-03-13T01:36:00.000-08:002010-03-13T03:21:59.400-08:00Bullshit soupFinally, the couch is warm. I hate when ur buns first hit the leather, and u instantly feel a cold chill all around your body, one of the most unwelcoming feelings. Well, thats besides the point. I had a good set tonight at the I-Candy coffee shop , well, one of my better one's. Every comic hopes that his or her material will get a response and that some of it can be kept for actual shows. Now, what this means is, suppose 5 jokes are said, u want at least 1 or 2 of those to be keepers. Thats just how it goes, some of your material goes straight to shit, some is descent and can be worked on, and the last one, the golden one, is the one you hope takes u to stardom. ha. u hope it's an instant winner. Before you get up, u have to sign up and wait your turn, in this period all the comics usually talk and bullshit with one another. We have fun just exploring topics and exhausting our thoughts. The topic of women came up today, as it happens to be popular amongst males, and we began discussing our experiences and troubles with women. After all these years and centuries that have passed, it amazes me that men and women are STILL trying to figure out one another. It's an ongoing process that still keeps our minds thinking, "what the hell does she want", "what the hell does he want" why can't we just be. It's such an interesting topic. My sister calls me almost everyday with some new encounter she's had with some guy, and how she thinks he's cute and he thinks she's cute, and their on going dilemma because somewhere down the line he turned into a weirdo. When a girl says that, it means that either he lost interest, she lost interest and he stayed persistent, or that they were both awkward and she didn't want to admit it so she blamed him. This is what I like to call bullshit soup. We have all had a bowl of bullshit soup, and if you haven't yet, you will eventually, you wont like it, but you'll learn to gulp it down. Don't plug your nose, allow yourself to taste every disgusting drop, but force it down, it's important that you're familiar with the taste. I have had my fair share of bullshit soup, even when i don't order it. Sometimes I just want a good old bowl of tortilla soup or cauliflower soup that i had once and loved, but instead, some one sends over a piping hot bowl of bullshit, with a little packet of crackers, good ol saltines. Oh yea, for those of you who don't know, bullshit soup is another name for interactions between male and females that turns sour or ugly. I happen to be cursed with the crazy bitch curse. You can look it up later, but for now, just listen. I'll explain. The crazy bitch curse is when a girl appears to be nice and wholesome, then she turns into the bitch from the exorcist. At this point u can do two things, u can either run, or fight the bitch. I like to put up a fight, maybe cus i'm a guy or I just like to get to the bottom of things. This probably happens because I'm a laid back guy and very easy to talk to. Some may think different, but for most, this is how I come off. My character seems to attract some very screwed up people, both male and female, but females in particular. It's like god has a giant pez dispenser just full of em, and he's just pushing them all on me. what an asshole. My most recent encounter was no different than my previous one, except i trusted the person more than i did the first time. She started off very sweet and caring, it was very genuine, and I thought wow, its extremely rare to find such a nice person, girl of guy but especially girl. She was a cool cat, very easy to talk to and you could be honest, something that I hold to the highest of all traits. She had it. She had a boyfriend and was having relationship problems with him, so she found a nice shiny dildo, aka me, and decided that she wanted to have me in her life. this meaning, at her convenience. In the process, if though i could see it coming, I began developing an attraction toward this girl. Whenever we met, she would bring up her boyfriend and ask me for advice, and like a good dildo, I replied. I didn't mind at the time because I was just being friendly and when someone asks u something, u givem an answer, good or bad. this type of friendship went on for a while, until I had to tell her the truth. It was eating me inside, I had actually grown to like her, even though she was in a relationship. So one night, we had gone to a comedy show, me, my roommate alex and "this" girl. Through out the night, I couldn't think of anything else except for my feelings for her, I looked like an idiot, cus here i was in a comedy club, with all these people around me laughing, with a frown on my face, sucking through the straw what was left of my first drink(there was a 2 drink minimum). The show finally ended, i just wanted to get the hell home at that point, maybe facebook or try to write some material, do some push ups or something. The car ride home was awkward, silence filled the car, but I didn't give a fuck. I was like a taxi driver, just trying to get to the next destination. She uttered a few words to cut the silence but that didn't last. We finally arrived home and soon after she left. Later that night she called me and told me that she knew what was wrong and that we should talk. I didn't want to, but i did. She came over and we discussed my feeling and hers. I told her that she treated my like a dildo, just wipping me out when she felt the need. Naturally, she denied it but still expressed her remorse for the situation. She told me that I was a good person and that she genuinely enjoyed me company. She also said that she had to control herself from developing feelings for me, and that she would most probably be with me if she weren't in a relationship. I'm not sure how much of that is true but it seemed like it at the time. After that, I made it clear that I couldn't be "friends" with her, I couldn't be her gay friend or pocket dick. I told her I still wanted in her in my life because she was a good human being, but i didn't know how. After this there was a club event, which i fuckin hate but i went cus it was my roommates event, it was a middle eastern theme party, with a bunch of guys with egos poppin out their shirts, more than their hair. but anyway, there was some miscommunication between, her, her friends, and me and my roommates, thats what happens when u mix alcohol and loud music. Anyways, we established the fact that it was a miscommunication and I apologized for the incident, but i don't think it got through to her. Eventually some time passed and the quarter came to an end. I left for winter break and on my 7 hr drive home, I texted her, telling her to have a good break and hoped to see her after break. she replied wishing me the same. At the time I felt alleviated because we left on good terms. I would only later find out that this was not true. Break came to an end and around this time was new years and her birthday so I wished her happy new year and birthday. I didn't get any response back but I figured she got it. School started a few days later and I i started bullshitting about break and what i did, with my roommates. She came up in the conversation and then for some reason, my roommates felt the need to tell me some extra information. You see, she would always talk to my roommates about me and other stuff, which was fine, but some of the information being passed wasn't getting back to me. Well, she told my roommates that it didn't matter if she never met me, and that I didn't matter, and that she didn't want anything to do with me. When i first heard this, I was surprised, hurt, and curious. You see, I had done nothing to deserve those words, or so i thought/think. She wanted nothing to do with me, ok fine, if thats the way you feel, just rub the lamp and your wish is granted. Did i want this to happened, not in a million years, I hate ending any type of relationship with people i care about, my roommates know this by now. I don't give a fuck if you're a dog, a pair of shoes, a girl, a guy, my roommate, the mailman, if I have gotten to know you and we hit it off, I value you and your relationship with me. I hold you tight like a mother holds her child to her breast, while it suckles her tit. I'm glad my roommates told me that information because I was still thinking about contacting her after break. But after hearing those words, I have no reason to reconnect. The message is clear and I'll respect her wish. Do i understand it, no, but I'll do as she says. Hopefully we can one day be friends, but if not, I wish her well and maybe i'll run into her at the grocery store.<div><br /></div>Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3473278539550536404.post-84496718816073684032010-02-24T14:05:00.000-08:002023-01-18T10:56:06.064-08:00Follow the yellow brick ....Follow the yellow brick road, or so they say. I'm done "following" anything or anyone, it doesn't seem to work very well for me. Instead, I'm trying to follow crooked paths and venture into alley ways because they aren't as predictable as my encounters on straight paths. Doing the right thing hasn't lead me in a very positive light thus far, ha, I'm not saying committing unlawful acts is the answer but hey. You think if your good to people, then good will come back to you, thats bullshit, cus by now, if good were gold, I'd be a fuckin zillionare, but it seems like god has been robbing me of my "gold". I want my cut dam it. But then on the other hand, I may get my cut in a giant lump sum in the future, but I'm not holding anyone to it. I've learned that I REALLy shouldn't expect anything, luckily comedy has helped me in that aspect. Jokes don't always work even if you think they should, but you have to keep believing in yourself, cus if you don't, you'll never make it in show business. Luckily for me, I have immense faith in myself, and in life. I will never fail, I won't allow it. And as far as the people who dabble their evil fingers in my bowl of optimiso soup, I'll simply lick your fingers clean, and continue eating my delicious soup. This goes for life in general, if you trip, acknowledge it but keep walking as if you didn't, if someone screws with your emotions, have a bowl of optimiso soup and maybe a shot of some good tequila and you'll be grrrreat. I love comedy, it's what I live for, honestly, I'm not just saying that to make a powerful statement. day n night, it's comedy, but I enjoy discussing honest thoughts. I feel like I keep writing this blog, but for some reason it feels like a fresh thought every time. Guess thats just because its an on going dilemma. Yuvi Grewalhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06960814849193014543noreply@blogger.com1