why do good girls like bad boys?

damn, 4 entries in the past 24 hours! cuh-ray-zay! it’s been a slow day at work so that’s why i’ve been able to update so much. but don’t tell anyone or else they might give me more work.

anyway, i have a new game to play. each entry title will now reference a song and we will see how clever you all are. this one is by dmx. i don’t know what the song is called but it starts off with this line sung by some girl and then dmx comes out barking or grunting or making other animal noises. basically, it’s a standard dmx song just like “X Gon’ Give It to Ya”. what, pray tell, are you exactly giving us, “X”? an aneurysm from listening to you bark? a headache from your awful music production? or possibly a life sentence in Sing Sing after we have to resort to murder to make your yapping stop? now that would be something “X” could definitely give me. seriously, has there ever been a worse rapper than dmx? he's not even rapping, he's just talking angrily.

but i digress. the topic of why girls like bad guys came up at today’s lunch amongst myself and 2 co-workers, colleagues, comrades in arms, what have you. (that’s a great phrase, ‘what have you’, what does that even mean?) but basically it was this: girls say they hate cocky guys but yet always want to be with the cocky guy. and to extrapolate that even further, the “bad” guy as well.

first of all, what comprises a “bad” guy anyway? is it the fact that he wears offensive leather outfits? rides a motorcycle? engages in routine larcenies and possible homicides? or is he bad because he doesn’t wash his hands after using the bathroom? because his underwear has stains from 2 weeks ago? perhaps, he’s simply an inept human being and, in the words of my college roommate, simply “sucks at life”. what exactly is a “bad” guy?

here’s my definition: a “bad” guy is basically someone who is characteristically unsafe. a “bad” guy is the kind of guy your parents would most likely not approve of over, say the neighbor’s son who wears tweed sweaters and shorts so tight that the male version of the camel toe is visibly apparent from a mile away, who just last spring graduated from an ivy league school and finally exited puberty at the same exact time. a “bad” guy is the kind of guy your girlfriends will tell you is bad news and there’s no future with him but will secretly wonder what it’s like to be with him.

there a couple reasons behind the allure of the bad guy. there is the idea that a “bad” guy is a medal, a badge of some sorts. much like its female counterpart, a trophy wife, the “bad” guy is used as an accessory, much like a purse, to indicate to other women that your status is so high that even the unattainable and crazy "bad" boys want to be with you.

there’s also another reason for this that’s widely accepted as truth but i think it’s wrong. it’s the idea that you can change him. popular opinion buys into this reason believing that all women want to exhibit some form of ability or power over a man and that changing a “bad” guy into a de-clawed life-size version of a Ken doll allows them to do this. but i disagree. i don’t think women want to change men because they want to exhibit strength of will or some kind of power over a guy, i think they want to change men because they want love.

think about it. isn’t that what most girls want? when little girls are…ummm… little girls, they dream of prince charming coming and sweeping them off their feet and saving them from a dragon. you think little girls really fantasize about being stuck as a prisoner in some cage for years waiting for this prince charming? no, it’s the happy ending of the fantasy that they pine for, the fact that some guy out there loves them so much that they’re willing to risk their lives fighting a dragon or a chair dressed up as a dragon in order to save them; it’s all for true love (i had a vivid imagination… not that i imagined being a princess or anything… it was just that one time and i don’t even think about it that much anymore anyway…not that much…).

and that’s why girls love a “bad” guy. they believe that if a guy really and truly loves them, that he can, and will, change for them, and that this is the greatest sign of love: a sacrifice of his true “bad” self to become whatever it is the girl wants him to be. they want guys to do whatever it takes to be with them, to love them. this is why they want to change “bad” boys, because they want “real” love.

damn. i have a headache from all this trying to think like a girl. this stuff is hard, it’s like i have to rid myself of all reason, logic, and sensibility (hehe i heart as good as it gets). i guess i’ll just go listen to some dmx now or something.

quick post.

http://www.salon.com/opinion/feature/2006/02/24/cartoons/

great great great great article written by famous american political cartoonist doug marlette about the controversy over political cartoons concerning mohammed. a must read. seriously.


edit: you may have to watch a 2 second ad clip to read the whole article, just do it, it's free. capice?

An Open Letter to the New York Knicks.

Dear Boo,

I remember when I first saw you in your orange and blue. I was just a little kid and my cousin was rocking a hat with your name stitched on it.

I remember you in your glory days. When people actually cared about you, when springtime rolled around and people still had you in their thoughts. When June came around and you were still relevant to the general public.

I remember when you used to have legends hanging around you. When historic moments took place around you, that 4 point play against Indy, that last second shot against Miami, that Starks dunk on Money. You were epic once, did you know that?

I remember when you were fun to watch. You loved playing and you looked so good doing it. For a while, you were the only team in the area that anyone cared about. Everyone loved you. Including me.

But one day, the good memories stopped and now all I have left are the bad ones. When you threw your future away by giving away all your money to those guys who didn’t really love you, didn’t really care about you like I did. When you started hanging out with these big time names that didn’t produce half as much as they talked. And everyone told you that you were hurting only yourself. Everyone told you that you were setting yourself up for disaster, ruining any chance of a future. And you still did it. And now you did it again.

You’ve broken my heart too many times. Do you understand how much it hurts me to write these words to you? I loved you for so long. You were my first real love and you’re making me wish I never met you at all, making me wish I fell in love with red and white instead of orange and blue.

I can’t go on like this, watching you hurt yourself, watching you kill yourself. I want to be there for you, I want to be supportive for you but I can’t. I can’t stand here and just let you destroy both of our lives.

So, I’m leaving you. Don’t try to stop me, I’ve already made up my mind. She’s a good girl, got her head on straight, knows what she’s doing. Yeah, I know she’s made a few mistakes before and I know she lives in South Beach, but we’ll be alright. She actually cares about me, about our relationship, something you haven’t done in a long time.

I’m sorry, boo, I really am. I never thought it would come to this, I never thought that I’d say goodbye to you this way. But it’s just too hard for us. I can’t keep getting angry watching you mess yourself up. I can’t keep getting sad every time someone makes fun of you. I just can’t.

I loved you once and maybe one day we can find that love again. But until that day, I’ve got to do my own thing.

-Dunce.

P.S. I left all your photos and clothes in a box for you in the closet. It’s the one marked “Return to Isaiah” on it.

be nice to waiters.

i have the solution to world peace. are you ready? get out a pen and paper and write this down. don't say you'll just remember it because you're not that bright. in fact, i'm almost positive i've called you an idiot in my head before. but ok... here it is....

treat everyone who you think is beneath you as if they're above you.

i'll wait for you to finish writing that down. and i swear, if you wrote "you" as "u", i'm going to kill you. (aside: one of my friends, this asian chick, refuses to type online like a normal human being. she only types like DiS aLL dAh TymE lOlLL ~!~! omg, reading that sentence is making me dizzy. and not only that but she simply cannot use black text on white background. she has to pick the most horribly offensive colors, like yellow on pink background. i don't even talk to her online anymore. and if you're reading this you know who you are and if you don't change your ways, you'll never get a job. nobody's going to hire you when your resume reads "GPA: 4.0 bABiEeeE~! yEsHhhshhshh!~!")

alright, anyway. so that's the answer. treat everyone who you think is beneath you as if they're above you. got it? get it? no? want an explanation? sigh. i forgot. you guys are all stupid.

people from the motherland (korea) are infamous for being rude to people in the service industry. service is extremely important in korea; one of my friend's grandfathers once went to a store, ripped open a 3 pack of underwear and tried to buy only 1. and the crazy thing is, he won! he made a scene and the store owners were like "yea of course you're right how stupid of us not to sell packs of 1 when the manufacturer sells them to us in packs of 3, we should rip open all our packages and just leave the underwear all over the place so people can pick up whatever they want lol and of course you'll get a discount on that 1 underwear since it's not in a package." i’m translating the korean but i guarantee this is a 100% accurate representation of what each party said.

at korean restaurants, my parents make a scene whenever the waiter comes 1 minute late with the food. we could be in the busiest restaurant in the world with only 1 waiter and my parents will be furious that their food didn't come out on time. i'm like relax, yo, they're busy. and my dad's like nah yo they should be bringing our ish out first, nah mean kid? and i'm like yo pops chill jigga and my mom's be all like ey-yo, don't make me slap you upside da head, ain't no thang like chicken wings on a string, nah mean? my parents be straight up gangstas!

ok i'm getting way too distracted. back to the message on hand. basically, i noticed this growing up. korean people are just really demanding service wise and sometimes, it gets to the point where it's rude. and this isn't just a korean phenomenon, i just notice it more b/c i'm korean. but treating waiters poorly is a universal concept. there's no reason to treat someone serving you like that unless the waiter is a real scumbag. even then, think about it. imagine your job is to stand around all day and just wait on people who treat you like crap. besides that, they deal with the stupidest questions like "this chicken with pasta... can i substitute the pasta for potatoes? and the chicken for steak?" "so you want the steak and potatoes?" "nonono, you MORON, i want the chicken with pasta but with steak and potatoes instead." and then whispers to his friend "jeez, no tip for this idiot."

i guess i notice it the most at restaurants because i eat out a lot (don't be gross) and at korean restaurants the most. of course, this isn't just korean people who act like this, it's all people. for some reason, we, as a society, feel it's ok to treat people in the service industry as if they're a lesser breed. almost like the service industry is the "untouchables" caste of american society.

this is the thing though: this attitude is pervasive in all other aspects too. look at how much the whole world hates america now; it's because america thinks it's above every other nation and just tries to impose its will on others without thinking about how it will affect these other countries. or even religious persecution; isn't this just the manifestation of the fact that one religion finds another one "beneath" them, i.e. wrong, and so it feels that it must resort to physical violence to "fix" them?

obviously, the world is a lot more complicated than this. but can you imagine how life would be if everyone just treated each other decently? every bum, every waiter, every suit on the street, every politician, every world leader, everybody.

so just be decent, people. it's not too hard to do and i think we'd all want other people to do the same for us. because seriously, you guys are all stupid and the only thing separating you from that job waiting tables at Shenanigans is plain dumb luck.

life... will it take me under? i wonder... (who gets that reference)

people don’t seem to like my deep, philosophical posts. “this isn’t funny”, “it made me think”, or my personal favorite, “your blog sucks” are the typical responses i get after a particularly mentally engaging entry. of course since no one leaves comments and all my readers probably think they’re the only person in the world who knows this blog even exists, you could argue that i’m making these responses up. you’d be absolutely right but i’d also kill you so you’d be absolutely dead as well. ergo, this entry is going to be deep so if you don’t want to read something like that, i suggest you scroll down to my earlier posts where i discuss passing gas at work.

anyway, i think it’s a good idea to sit back and think every now and then. personal reflection time is one of the things i miss most about being in college. it’s one of the things i miss the most about real life actually, seeing as how my current job leaves me no free time at all. (“what? you want to see your family? do that on your own time, sucker. today’s sunday. that means work day.” “what? you think you’re bleeding internally? stop making $#!& up and get back to work. your vision’s getting blurry? it’s your monitor, restart your computer”)

but i think time to ‘think’ or personal reflection time is essential to a fulfilling life. if you don’t stop and take a step back every now and then, you never get to see the full picture, you never really get to look ahead and see where your road’s going. life then no longer becomes a journey but a meaningless sprint from point to point, hurrying along, trying to just get by. that’s not what life should be.

human beings have a gift of mental capacity that separates us from other living things. the last i heard, no raccoon ever wrote a book, no rhino ever sculpted a naked dude with an itty bitty wang, no tree ever waxed philosophical about the origin of roots; their only concern is survival. i’m not saying everybody out there needs to discover some inner artist, but i do believe that every single person should consider what their life is about. even if it’s just about getting by and doing the day to day to survive, that’s ok. but just know that that’s what your life is. and if you want your life to be different? then try. go towards that goal. don’t just sit back and let life pass you by.

i have to admit that i feel a bit hypocritical writing this since i could definitely heed my own advice. that’s part of why i write too, i guess. when i see my words, it allows me to reflect and consider if what i’m saying is true. and right now, i really don’t know where my life is headed. i see one path that i know i don’t want to take but it’s very safe and very easy. then there’s another path that’s much harder and full of uncertainties. and what about the other paths that i haven’t even considered?

see how complicated this is? and this is just for me and i’m a relatively simple guy. surround me with basketball and korean food and i’m pretty satisfied.

what about you? are you happy with where your life is and where it’s going? why or why not? and are you willing to live that way for the next 40 years or whatever? cuz life’s coming on quick and before you know it, it could be gone.

think about it.

clothes make the man.

today is sunday, roughly 5:30 PM and i'm at work. i could write an angry, bitter entry about why i'm at work on a sunday, but it's become such a routine part of my life that i now accept it. i still cry myself to sleep and stomp all the way to work while i whine to the passing air but i accept it... i'm sad now. =(

but instead, i will focus on my attire. currently, i'm dressed in XXL sweatpants that could fit 4 more people, work boots, and a t-shirt. my hair is unkempt and my face is unshaven. but i'm probably the most productive i've been all week. so why do i need to wear a suit?

while i engage my inner seinfeld, i ask you, what is the deal with work clothes? what exactly is so formal about 'business formal'? are we going to a midnight masquerade ball? are we participating in a gala? (what a great word by the way. gala. what the hell is that. why do rich people always make up words to try to make themselves feel more elitist? it's not a party, it's a gala. it's not a nanny, it's an au pair. it's not a housekeeper, it's the help. it's not baseball, it's polo without horses. rich people are weird.)

anyway, seriously, even if you argue for formal business attire, which, i admit, has its strengths, who the hell decided what formal wear constituted? why do suits have those shoulder pads? if you're not hitting people on astroturf, you don't need shoulder pads. what's with the shoes? what exactly is a wingtip? why do they have to hurt? and why do they smell so much? or maybe that's just mine.

my all time biggest beef is with ties. i despise ties. the fact that people show off that their tie is from italy and is worth 3 digits or higher is ludicrous. who cares! what purpose does it serve! is it covering a bare strip in the middle of your shirt that would expose your man hair? is it holding up your head? can you use it to wipe up the ketchup stain on your face? or maybe it's there to keep the attention away from the vomit protruding from your neck that you call your face. in the end, the answer is NO. all it does is serve to choke you, a microcosm of what this job is: a slow suffocating death.

well that's it. i'd write more but i just found out i can go home and spending more time at work is like asking me to eat vegetables: i can do it, but it physically hurts me.

i started off saying i wasn't complaining about work... but i guess in the end, i kind of did. oh well, you try working on a sunday at 5 PM and then you can say something. until then, dunce is out.

HOLLER.