Showing that you care makes you weak

This is what the great Harvey Specter said. That is why he does not show that he cares for his clients. He still cares, but he doesn’t show it. It will make you vulnerable, makes you pathetic. Be strong, don’t care, or don’t show that you care!

So if you want to be strong, don’t care at all. Just like what Harvey did in the mock trial.

Gotta love Harvey!

Damn! It’s 2012!

I missed blogging. I missed everything. I missed a lot of things. I missed miss lucy and miss candy! Oh darn. I haven’t been blogging for such a long time now. Anyway, I’m back in the world of blogging again! It has been a while since I lasted posted in this crazy sh!t blog.

Right now, I’m familiarizing myself in using WordPress 3.4.1. I haven’t been posting using WordPress for a very very long time. The latest version of WordPress that I’ve used is very 2.0. A lot of things have changed. A lot of everything have changed. But me, I’m still the same old me. I haven’t changed a thing.

Lyrics Jenny Dont be Hasty by Paolo Nutini

You said you’d marry me if I was 23
But I’m one that you can’t see if I’m only 18
Tell me who made these rules
Obviously not you
Who are you answering to?

Oh, Jenny don’t be hasty
No, don’t treat me like a baby
Let me take you where you’ll let me
Because leaving just upsets me

I’ll be around again to see the other men
They’re more adequate in the age department
I did not think you cared.
There’d be no problems here
But now you’re looking at me like you’re disgusted
Then I’m definitely waiting for you to smile and change your mind
Then I’ll say I’m sorry and I’ll wrap my arms ’round your body
I really hope that you forgive in a hurry
And don’t just ask me to leave

Oh, Jenny don’t be hasty
Don’t treat me like a baby
Let me take you where you’ll let me
Because leaving just upsets me

Oh, Jenny you are crazy!
First I’m perfect, then I’m lazy
And I was calling you my baby
Now it sounds like you just left me.
And it kills me!

My One Night Stand With Peter Petrelli

He was there, sitting in front of my computer, seemingly waiting for me to wake up – Peter Petrelli, clad in black, pissed.

“Get up, Jack.” He told me.

“Hey aren’t you Peter Petrelli?”

“There’s no time to ask. We have to save the world.”

“Ok, you’re being a bitch.” I responded wanting to give him a whole slew of rants about what I think about actors. But then, the house shook.

“It’s an earthquake,” I told him, and seeing that he’s in front of the window continued, “You cant stay there. If the house falls the shrapnels will kill you.”

(Trivia: I set my bed in the safest corner of the room just in case an earthquake hits while I’m asleep)

“It’s not an earthquake, let’s go!” He said in a nervous voice and started to run.

I tagged along until we reached a tunnel that resembled the Dust 1 Counterstrike map. Peter then told me to take the left path which led to the bomb site. So I did. I moved slowly as I overheard the ticking of a bomb (duh). And Further on, I was able to see it and its guardian, Sylar..

Darn it, these Heroes episodes never run out of twists. Good thing ’twas lunch time.

Turned aback from me, sitting on one of those picnic tables, Sylar was just about to eat his baon. He took a tupperware out of a bag and opened it. He was having rice.

The fast thinking Me immediately ran towards Sylar and pushed his head into the tupperware, pressing it hard intending to suffocate the wretched villain… with rice. (I know. lame.)

Seconds later, Sylar stopped moving. I hanged on just in case he was still alive.

Of course, he was.

“I dont know what you’re trying to achieve with this.” He said.

I realized the sonovabitch cant be killed through natural means and I knew instantly, sharp and fast thinking as always, exposed to the one man that could imperil me with such ginormous pain and suffering, that my only recourse was to run. I lifted Sylars head and snapped it just like they did in those kung fu movies hoping to break his neck. Then I ran as fast as I could knowing none of my TV-learnt tactics could ever work in real life (or, in this case, dream life).

Meeting Peter Petrelli awhile later, I told him that Sylar was after me.

He then replied to my distaste, “Thank you Jack. We had to divert him away from the bomb site so we could save the world.”

That other sonovabitch used me as bait to ..well save the fucking world!?! I could have given Peter another bunch of rants of how this world is unfair and why I choose not to be the nice and angelic soul my mother wanted me to be. But, Peter Petrelli then flew away leaving me behind as Sylar caught up.

“Should I kill you now?” Sylar asked as blood started to drip from my head.

That’s when I woke up to a song I hadn’t played in a long time. Weird.

Where the Blowjob Got Its Name?

Apparently, and the fact that I was dreaming about Peter Petrelli, even though it happened at night, no part of my previous post qualified as a one night stand.. and oh did I hear of it! In text and calls and YM messages, my yaoi-watching, super-junior-adoring, emo-loving friends had expressed their disgust at me not crossing the sexual bloglines and fulfilling what they predicted I would do before turning 30… Come Out!

Well, sorry to say, I am as oaty as ever, but not yet as fruity. *Create that visual in your head.. say ‘Eww’.. and come back!* So to make up for that ALLEGED false marketing scheme to bring over Heroes fans over to my recently peniled blog (pagerank nil, thank you very much!), here’s a hell-hath-no-fury dose of sexual content straight from your philosophical bastard.
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