Kittens

they're so cute. and cuddly. and fiiiiine. and if you haven't gotten that i'm not talking about the little things that have whiskers and meow, then you don't know me at all. i'm talking about those hot-ddeuguh younger guys/men/boys. i read a blog about cougars, and it inspired me to write this. 

yes i'm a cougar. so what. so sue me. im not one of those cougars that ONLY goes for younger guys. i like variety. i'm a variety pack kind of gal. when i go shopping for cereal i don't like to choose just one. i want a different flavor for every morning. kind of like how i like my men. 

up until last year i refused to even look at guys that were a year younger than me. my first question upon meeting someone new would be, "what year are you?" "83" ... "get out of my face." okay maybe not to that extent but they pretty much got the boot. why you ask? because i thought guys were immature as it is, why bother wasting my time? i wanted the suave and sophistifunk older men. but i always ended up with losers my age. go figure. anyways, so i somehow got tricked into going on a date with a much younger guy, and long story short i was SOLD. younger guys are so malleable. it's like you can step in and mold them into the hot version that you wish so many guys your age were. and they don't mind. younger guys are adorable because they haven't let themselves go yet and developed those hated beer belly guts, don't have receding hairlines, they're so attentive and actually try to please you by doing things that you want to do, pay attention to little details, don't hound you about marriage because they're too damn young, still like to go out and do things, and have awesome stamina. yeah i said it. 

i try to keep the cougar within on a leash but sometimes that bitch gets out in a bad way. i see lots of cute younger guys out and about here and there, but i just look and think, "oh how cute." but once in a while i'll come across one that i'll look and think, "i have to have it." and what cougar wants, cougar gets. *claw fingers*


i thought about all the reasons for why my cougarish ways came to be. i guess the top reason would be my commitment issues. the thought of being in a long term monogamous relationship scares me. okay that came off wrong. not that i mind having sex with only one person, it's BEING with one person in a close emotionally intimate relationship that freaks me the fuck out. this started about 2 years ago, right about the time when the cougar phenomenon started. it's totally endearing when a younger guy will look at me with those moon eyes and tell me how much they like me and how they want to be with me. it makes me giggle and want to rip their clothes off. on the other hand, when a guy my age or older says those same words, i cringe, make a repulsed facial expression, and request that they never contact me again. i know, i have issues. i'll be 40, unmarried, no kids, and chasing that young ass and use lots of skin products to trick them into thinking im younger. now that i think about it...doesn't sound too bad to me.

The Most Boring Girls Night Out...

was not last night. Ha. Gotcha. you thought i was going to write about how i had the most boring girls night out. but i didn't. because it was superb. in a weird, vomit filled sort of way. and ill get to that in a minute, don't worry.

so it starts off, us 6 girls, dinner at Geisha House. on the way there, i was like, how ironic...and stereotypical. 6 Asian girls eating at Geisha House. get it? get it? so anyways, we eat sushi and mindy baby forces a drink down my throat bc everyone else is drinking and i MUST drink for that reason. God forbid i be sober. i guess i'm a big fat bore when im sober. like Fun Bobby.

next destination: Cafe Nineteen. I was expecting a dark little bar tucked away in a corner with sleazy heugs bc it is Atlantic Station after all and we know how "dark" it gets there. but no, lo and behold, it actually IS a cafe, with lots of delish looking desserts and a full bar. and cute lighting. and a hunk of man bartender. DROOL. oh Gene whatever-your-last-name-is. Can we rewind time to the first time we met and make out passionately again while i rub your chiseled abs? too bad i was pretty much blacked out when this happened but i like to think he was a good kisser. and secretly whispered "i love you" in my ear. about 20 drinks later (i love dirty martinis now. drink of choice. fuck you ketel tonics!) the girls fought me about going to pink pony, and i lost the battle. one particular little one we were with was quietly blacked out and we didnt notice until she pretty much stumbled around in circles and almost gouged out our eyes when we tried to take her keys. the small ones are always the dangerous ones. *points to self* and i meant small as in height. no weight jokes please. ill murderize you. SO ANYWAYS we load up the cars, drive to the pony, pull in the parking lot, and then we get "the call".

rose: ummmm where are you guys.
mindy: pink pony woman! where are you??
rose: yeah, you're gonna have to come to QT like right now. XXXX just threw up on herself. i don't know what to do! come RIGHT NOW!

so we peel out, and arrive to find XXXX sweating, blacked out, and passed out in her car with copious amounts of vomit all over herself and the parking lot looks like a napkin dispenser exploded with all the napkins rose used in her attempt to clean her up. being the awesome friend i am, i was like "OMG...give me the camera." I think someone was like, "omg are you going to take pictures?? that's so wrong..." and i was like, "WHAT?? no. i'm doing this bc i'm her FRIEND. she can't remember this bc she's PASSED OUT. i want her to be a part of this. she needs memories." and i snapped away like paparazzi from every angle while people stared like wtf is that girl dead and why is that crazy chinese girl taking pictures and are they having a party in the parking lot? yeah. a vomit party. we like to throw up on ourselves and each other. it's the new rage. fast forward to us ditching the pony idea and driving XXXX back to her place, and lucky for us, she lives on the third floor. and we're like, oh no problem, there's 5 of us, and she's like, what, 80 pounds? so jamie grabs her legs and is like, let's carry her, and then she looks like she's struggling. so i'm like, yo what's the hold up. and she looks at me, confused, and says, "She's like, fighting me." and i was like "wtf how is that possible she's passed the fuck out?" and i realize this hoe is locking her legs up somehow and fighting us blacked out/passed out. it's a crazy skill, never seen it before. it took 3 of us to yank her out, and at this point there was a fresh batch of regurgitated food on her, so while 4 of us try to carry her up 3 flights of stairs she keeps slipping out of our grasp like a slippery little monkey from the vomit and we ( okay, not we. just me bc i'm like, the antichrist) can't stop laughing hysterically and everybody has puke on them. shoes, jeans, shirt, my hair. in between our fingers. make it up without killing ourselves (dude, dead weight is no joke), it takes about 20 minutes to change her bc she continues to fight us while sleeping and holds onto a fistful of my hair for half that time. i was trying not to rub my face in her vomit. i think i was half successful. we throw her in bed on her stomach/side so she doesn't choke on her vomit, look at our vomit stained selves, and decide to go for some more drinks. we deserved it damnit. so the night ends with the typical korean karaoke, lots of tambourine banging, and stumbling in around 4 am.

it definitely wasn't what i had in mind, but it was epic nonetheless. i love XXXX for doing what she did, bc vomit or not, it was hilarious and ive decided she's a gangster ass bitch even when she's covered in half digested sushi and chardonnay. bc not everyone can fight when they're in an alcohol induced coma.

so part 2 should be coming up within the next 2 weeks or so. i think we will add that crazy whorean friend of mine, liz park (theparksisters.blogspot.com) to the equation and see what pops up. nothing healthy i daresay. pictures to come soon.

QUOTE OF THE NIGHT:
XXXX: (talking to bartender) sooo, can i ask you a question?
gene: sure
XXXX: do you wear boxers? briefs? whitie tighties?
gene: nothing
me: (instantly becoming interested) whatttt? liar. i don't believe you.
XXXX: prove it.
gene: (lifts up shirt, pulls down waist of his bands justttt enough.) see?
XXXX and me: (staring in awestruck silence and drooling onto bar)
me: my panties just went *poof*

Why do FOB kpop singers look like fags?

This is just a random rant. I was eating dinner, watching whatever SBS channel my mom had on TV, and one of those random Music Bank moments came on. There was a group of like, 17 korean boys hopping around on stage wearing some ridiculously gay striped outfits. They all had some fruity haircut/dye job, uber skinny, and more make up than I wear. They all looked exactly the same. I bet if they took their homocupcake shirts off I could count their ribs. Sidenote**I know I keep saying "homo" and "fag" and "gay" but I have nothing against gay people. I just like to use those words. I have gay friends. Therefore, I'm allowed to use them by default.** When did wearing clothes tighter than me become hot? It's gross. Some guys can pull off skinny jeans, good for you. Some guys can pull off eyeliner. That's only hot if you are japanese or an effing rockstar. Like, literally a rockstar. I would like my future husband to weigh more than me, have more muscles than me, not borrow my make-up, leave my moisturizer alone, and never ask me to coordinate "couple outfits". That's another thing that irks me. Like, why the fuck are you both wearing the same shirt? Because it's cute to announce to the world that you're together? Did you ever think that some single lonely ppl might see this freak event and want to rip that shirt right off your back? I know mad ppl in Korea do this. I have a feeling that there's going to be a lot of torn outfits when I visit, girls and boys crying and clutching each other while I rage up and down streets in seoul. Not that I'm all lonely or anything. Because I'm not. I swear.

I think I'm the angriest Korean girl I know.

I love it when people guess my age to be younger, like 4 years younger than my real age. It makes me smile, and I want to hug them. I hate it when they ask me if I'm single, and then follow that question with "Why?". I think I've mentioned this before. Refer back to older post for answer to that question. I like being single. I really do. I'm not one of those girls that's like, omg, like, the single life is the shiznit yo! *flips hair* I'm one of those girls that likes to do whatever I want, whenever I want, meet whoever I please, come home at any time of the night, drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes as much as my little black heart desires, and not have to worry about missed calls and checking up on anyone.

Now that I got that off my 34 B chest, I have to go put my face on and meet the sister so we can chat about why she's been MIA for 5 days and I can drink while she watches me drink.

what the fuck.

what the fuck.

that's what i've been saying a lot of lately, in response to just about everything.

some wack ass guy comes up to me and is like, super neuks bc i always attract the wang neuks, and even before he opens his mouth and all that butter starts coming out i'm like "what the fuck chuck. back away." *kungfu pose*

my brother starts lamenting over his lack of a girlfriend and how he absolutely NEEDS one pronto tonto. me: "what the fuck. shut the fuck up, you're all of 19 years old. you have plenty of time to meet hoes and have pregnancy scares and live in fear of contracting stds."

my dad, on his birthday, turns to me and my sis and says for the first time," I expect you to be married within 3 years." me: "what the FUCK. i need a boyfriend to start thinking about marriage dad..." my sister doesn't count since she's been with the same guy for 10 years.

i realize that the closest possible date that i can take my GRE, which i have been yulshimhee studying for, is end of october and the deadline for putting in my application to the schools is beginning of october. WHAT THE FUCK. to the nth degree.

i notice a cute guy while im studying, so i casually walk by to see what he's studying for. GRE? maybe we can be study partners. GMAT? LSAT? MCAT? no. SAT. what the FUCK. keep walking son, keep walking. i may be puma-ish, but i don't enjoy baby sitting. or getting locked up for statuatory rape.

the list goes on and on and on. i want to utter a happy "what the fuck?!" at some point. like if i win 100 million from one of those scratch off lotto tickets. or my secret dream crush gets down on one knee and proposes with a 5k yellow Harry Winston rock and tells me how he wants me to be the mother of his unborn children. definitely a joyous "what the fuck" worthy moment.

i'm going out tonight. i need to sit back, relax, enjoy an alcoholic beverage, and contemplate on what i'm going to do with the rest of my unpredictable, oftentimes disappointing, life. and hopefully run into a particular handsome man and make lip to lip contact.

ciao.

damn time flies...

i haven't blogged in almost a year. i looked at my profile, and i listed myself as "alcoholic, smokes too much, unemployed beksoo". The only thing that has changed from that is the alcoholic part. i like to think of myself as a recovering alcoholic. i know, i'm so proud of myself. *curtsy*

so why the fuck am i still unemployed? jesus. i gave up a job in korea because i couldn't quite make myself go, and the feeling of being torn made me decide to stay. but it's only a phone call away...so i'll think of it as my back up plan. i had coffee with the bestie aka my queen aka hanna na, and she asked me," if i was to move out of state, would you come with me?" to which i replied without hesitation, "yes." because that's what life is supposed to be like right? well, that's how i've always wanted to live my life. the whole stability thing, the family and the husband and the 2.5 kids and the white picket fence works out great for the majority of pretty much everyone else, but it's not for me. i want to travel. i want to see everything. i want to meet people. i want to drag hanna from city to city, country to country, all over the world and make a video blog of everything and have our own youtube channel and then have the travel channel pick us up for our own show because we are THAT funny and fabulous and awesome to watch. i want to write a best selling novel. i want to bang hot cabana boys in exotic countries. i want to live free and unfettered and unconventionally. i'm 27, i'll be 28. i was worried that i'm getting too old, that time was passing me by too quickly, what have i been doing with my LIFE?? but when i think of all the things i want to do from this point on, i feel like my life is just beginning. you are never to old to learn something new, to rediscover yourself, to find your own niche doing something you love. for me, it begins now. and one year from now, my profile will read something different. like, "nomad adventurer brilliant travel writer sex icon" or something along those lines. and hopefully i'll have banged anthony bourdain by then.