-Tem’Plate-

mmm… michelle barrett.

-AppleBox Inc.-

nice blog, emil.

nice blog, joshwa.

nice blog, jizzstain.

i mean jismane. hahaha.

-Joshi Kashimashi Monogatari-

fuckin’ that Lotus album from Santana. FUCK MY SADASS LIFE.

damn… that guitar playing’s so moving.

“Yours Is The Light” is like… the shit.

-Epic. Win.-

damn. that previous entry was pretty fuckin’ long. but shit… i LOVEd pokemon. haha. i can’t lie to myself and succumb to people expectations of me getting over something that’s already become apart of me, and has helped shape who the fuck i am today. fuck, nigga. haha.

but yeah… just woke up. fuckin’… 5:39 A-the-fuck-M. i fuckin’ hung out with gomezeki-kun last night, and this nigga showed me one of the most saddest things i’ll probably ever see in my life:

-go on facebook.
-if you’re andrew varilla’s “friend”, click his shit.
-now go to videos and watch the one where he talks about a song he’s been working on, and just finished.
-watch that video, and watch the WHOLE THING.

…whaddayathaaaank? “christ jesus…” huh, josh? hahaha. exact-a-fucking-avena-lee.

sad, i know. and he talks about not being a “guitar god”… YET. nigga…

WHAT.

that’s disgusting in my fuckin honest of opinions. how the fuck can you claim that you’ll someday be a “guitar god”. it takes YEARS – and i mean YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAARS – before you can even develop any good sense of musicianship, you fucker. “guitar god”? are you fucking serious? that just proves to me how narrow-minded this fatherfucker is. i mean, i never really liked the guy throughout high-school all that much myself – for reasons i can’t even recall at the moment — OH!… because he was such a fuckin’ douchebag! HA! but for him to even make a sickass video of of himself “playing guitar” and one day proclaiming he’ll be that good… uhh… NO. nigga. that’s just DUMB.

i just fuckin’ lost all the remaining ounces of respect i ever had for this kid. sorry, andrew varilla fanboys. haha. i can’t waste anymore words on such a sadass human being.

final thought: my cousin emil made a very interesting point last night whilst el-gomez was staining our minds with this nigga andrew’s… mess (even if that were the least bit a pun, either way, it’s still sick as fuck. haha). emil blurted out, “see, this is the wrong kind of introvert. he’s jut fucked up and straight up LONELY. no one’s there to tell him, ‘nigga… no. what you’re doing is S.T.U.P.I.D. you’re not a musician. get over it. you’ll live.’” i laughed me ass off, and agreed. ‘cuz he’s FUCKIN’ RIGHT. some fucks just aren’t cut out for certain things, and this proves quite apparent for the sadass nigga i just wasted a blog on.

drop the guitar, andrew. please. for the sake of the human race. haha.

-Gotta Catch ‘Em LOL-

Pokemon was the biggest thing – aside from the pop muic explosion – when i was growing up. it was that phenomenon that no one really saw coming nor understood when it arrived. it was as if a fuckin’ UFO crash-landed onto earth – it was big as fuck, people couldn’t stop talking about it, and the creatures inside were foreign things that people just wanted to get their greedy little hands on.

that shit hit us from all corners with no fuckin’ remorse. at first, it was just this show on kidsWB that came on after sailor moon (or was it bananas in pajamas? haha) every afternoon, which most of us just watched because we didn’t feel like getting to homework just yet or we’d just leave the show on while doing homework. either or, Pokemon was there, lingering in our subconscious. it’s pokeBalls all in our 8 year old faces.

I became familiar with “Pokemon” after seeing a couple of episodes, but similar to everyone else in my age group at the time it wasn’t until when the video games came out that “Poke-mania” bitch-slapped every single 4th grader on the planet. yup. fuckin’ Pokemon Red and Blue (sorry to all those that prefer it “Blue and Red”. i just typed what came to mind first. haha) Versions for the game boy fuckin’ skyrocketed the Poke-franchise into a household name. the shit was EVERYWHERE. all over the mall. all over the TV. all over the world. at its peak, POKEMON was IT. when those games came out, life changed. and there was no turning back. haha.

everyone – and i mean EVERY ONE – had the game. i remember kids giving other kids the sickest look when they found out that either they weren’t into it or just didn’t have the game yet; looks that read “nigga… you ain’t got this shit yet?? you serious?? nigga… hop on this shit. NOW. you have no idea what you’re missing.” it was THAT insane.

Pokemon, the show, was magical – if experienced properly. everyone knew that in order to fully grasp the show’s concept and develop that sentiment, you had to have  had experienced the game. and vice-versa. there was this allure, a kind of charm  behind those first few seasons of pokemon. remember the night before ash was going start his pokemon journey, and due to his excitement, and his alarm clock breaking over night, he overslept? that moment he was left with pikachu – because all the other pokemon [charmander, bulbasaur and squirtle] have already been taken – was the moment that solidified everything for us. that was what sold it for us. that if you’re reading this, and you grew up around the same 1997-Pokemon-timeframe like i did then you know EXACTLY what i mean.

like i stated earlier, there was this genuineness about the show. from the flute music that would play when something sentimental took place to the cheesy yet inspirational [dubbed] dialogue, everyone i knew was touched by pokemon. the idea of being able to catch pocket-monsters and train 6 of them (at a time) to be not just the baddest mutherfuckers in the pokemon world, but for them to also become your bestest of friends was a fantasy that, in our 4th grade state of minds, was close enough to reality that we were able to become attached. attached to those creatures that we caught  and formed bonds with and won pokemon badges with.

it was a crazy process:

1. obtain your first pokemon from professor oak.

2. train that nigga to at least get to “lvl. 6″ – lvl. 6 was the level that wasn’t super strong or anything, but was just enough to get by – and then finally start roaming the grassy areas to start looking for bitches to weaken and catch.

3. once you finally filled up your roster, you take all six of your pokemon (those others that you caught afterwards were automatically sent and immediately stored in “BILL’s PC” [though i never understood why it never got stored in "MY PC". but oh, well. haha]) to the “Pokemon Center” to heal, and from there… your journey begins.

and your journey? come on… we all know the story. do i REALLLLLY have to say it?

…fine.

“TO BECOME A POKEMON MASTER!!” hahahaha.

nostalgic, ain’t it?

that was fuckin’ it. you leave home to try and obtain these badges. and to obtain those badges you had to poke-battle against these gym leaders – one from each city/town/island. and once you’ve obtained all eight, you head straight to Viridian City and go against the Elite Four to test how far you’ve progressed as a Pokemon trainer. sounds easy, right? fucking WRONG, nigga. every single city you’d show up at, some crazy ass shit would be happening, and then some sickass subplot would take place. and you were left with no choice, but to pursue that little side-adventure in order to progress with the story line, which then enabled you to fight for your badge afterwards. a recycled, but ingenious concept.

fmsap.

for those 3-4 for years we were Pokemon’s little-schoolgirl-bitch. i recall having 5 shirts. all pokemon. one for every single school-day. i’d sport that shit as if Nintendo were paying me to (and now thinking about it, i kinda wish they did. haha), and brushed up on all my poke-knowledge just so i didn’t look like a douche-bag wearing something i probably would’ve had no clue about. i was forill schoolin’ niggaz. and it wasn’t just me. everyone was talking about it. “ya know what level charmander evolves into charmeleon?”,”am i gonna need a thunder stone to evolve my pikachu into raichu?”,”how the hell do i get to cinnabar island?!”. and shit of the like.

as grade-school progressed so did the poke-madness. during recess, barely anyone played anymore. everyone was stuck under the pavilion area “battling”. with our game boys in hand and our link-cables providing the pathway, we were all working towards that goal. the goal to be a master. ridiculous, i know, but at the time, we didn’t give a shit. we all wanted to be the best. and some wanted to be “the best” so bad that they went as far as… dare i say it? CHEATING ! (gasp). yup. everyone had that one friend with the gameshark; dude would have hella rare candies and the sickass lvl. 150 Charizard.

…FUCK THAT GUY.

haha.

but yup. it was a magical time for us 90s kids. i think even up ’til now, we still carry and pass on the morals and virtue we’ve gained through the mass hysteria that was “Pokemon”. sure, of course all of us 8 year olds from back then have all grown up and realized that Pokemon was probably the biggest example and best-executed child-consumption scam of all time, but what those greedy bastards behind the Nintendo and 4kids headquarters don’t realize was that the show did have its impact on us. that yes, even though we bought every little Pikachu- and Charmander-in-a-PokeBall toy we could lay our hands on, the effect that the show left behind to its fan-base was something beyond what any school teacher could teach. Pokemon was an experience. it was a natural high for us. it allowed us to explore – virtually – in a world that was populated with creatures that were waiting to be caught and, hopefully, be trained by us. Pokemon taught us through rigorous training and frustrating gym battles that with determination, loyalty, love and hard work that – and as cheesy at this will sound – anything was possible. and they are.

yes. winds have passed, and the “glory days” of Pokemon have been swept along with it (all first 150 [or more] of those pocket-monster bastards). that “magic” is long gone, and the mass-hysteria that was once the “Poke-Craze” has finally settled into a more dumbed-down Cartoon Network (yuck!) state, but just like all the generations that came long before ours have said, “fads fade, but memories were made”. and boy does that ring oh. so. true.

in my world, the first three choices have always been charmander, bulbasaur or squirtle, Jinx was the real “WTF?!!” Pokemon, Mewtwo was always be the baddest Pokemon on the block, Mew was “ehh”-ish, and Articuno, Zapdos and Moltres were the real legendary birds. all these new incarnations BLOW. haha

what the fuck is a “regirock”, “registeel” and a “regi-ice”?

…exactly. haha. “ain’t no skool like the old skool”, right? haha. fuckin’ right.

and btw… my first pokemon, ever? blue version: SQUIRTLE. nigga.

-A Pare! A Pare! I’m Kissing. The Gator.-

ya know, before, i never understood why people liked maria ozawa so much.

boy oh boy, do i do now.

-FreeRight-

i hate dumb filipino scene bitches. girls and boys alike. the hair, the clothes, the attitude, the lifestyle… FUCK ALL THAT. it’s so dumb. kids are so stupid these days.

i think social-networking sites are the death of us. it’s staining both the youth, and hell, even fuckin’ adults. my fuckin’ 39 year old uncle just got on facebook, and now that nigga don’t do nothin’ but play farmville, look up old friends and ask his daughter (my cousin, dimple) what the fuck certain interweb-linggo means, “anak… what’s dis ‘LOL’ mean?” Fuck. My. Small. Ass. Penis.

it’s fuckin’ sick. it’s disgusting. to an extent, it’s cool if used properly and responsibly. but to an even bigger extent, it ain’t cool not one bit, sir.

religions are stupid. case closed.

-Nice and Wet-

other news: friday, i’m taking the day off to chaperone nicole on her trip to the SF Exploratorium. she practically begged me to go. and sadly… i couldn’t say no. i can never say no. nope. not to such a pretty little girl like my niece. i love that kid.

why? because i understand her pain. like me, she too is growing up with no “father” in her life. which is why i care for her so dearly. shit. i know what it’s like not having a dad. feeling that emptiness when you see all the other kids at school with both mommy and daddy attending back-to-school-night or what-the-fuck-ever, and all you’ve got is mommy there with you. and that’s cool. hell, been there, done that. but after awhile, you start to realize that mommy can’t do everything that a daddy can. example? fuckin’ piggy back rides.

so yeah… that’s why. i can hella sympathize for the little girl. i want to at least be there for her whenever she wants me to just so that she can have a father-figure present, ya know? someone there to give her piggyback rides, and throw her around until her heart’s contempt. haha. i love that kid. real. talk.

ok. enough potential-daddy talk.

hmm… what else?… OH! ok. i think my band’s gon’ start giggin’ next month! WHOOO! ideally, the first gig would be to open at the ferry-terminal’s coffee-shop, Panama Red, for their open mic nights on thursdays. my friend, clare, who’s like co-manager there is hella hookin’ me up with the gig (i fuckin’ love her). so yeah, i’ll keep ya’ll posted with that.

school. school’s cool, i guess. i’ve learned the art of not-procrastinating. and the way it works is basically that: to not procrastinate. it’s simple, ya get home from school, ya do some hw. rest. when you’re done resting, do some more hw. and then sometime in between find some time to kick back and relax, watch a movie, but don’t lost focus. fuckin’ tell yourself that after watching a movie or whatever you have planned, get back to work. it’s so simple, it’s CRAZY! it hella works. like… no lie, i’m about 3 days ahead with hw. i’ve never felt so motivated in my life! i don’t even know where this motivation’s coming from. i guess i’ve just gotten sick of always being behind and feeling retarded in class because i sometimes don’t do the work that i just decided, “FUCK IT. i’mma be a -fuckin’-head from now on. no more high school procrastinatin’ bullshit. fuck that.” and yeah, thus the new Jimmel was christened.

i don’t know. haha.

and porn… i fuckin’ jerked off to kianna dior this moaning. haha. old bitch.

-Too Cool For Stool-

i feel SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO retarded. she frickin’ held the door open for me yesterday when class got out, and all i could muster out of me was a simple “OH. haha. thanks.” i felt so dumb. i felt SUPER-DUMB, actually. and i didn’t even look her in the eye when she did so. fmsap. fuck. and i knew it, too; just a little after what took place at the door, i felt the retardation in me as soon as i made my way out the classroom and into the 1000-building hallway. i could just sense her eyeing me up from behind thinking of how much of a jerk i was for being so neglecting. so cold. dammit. GOD, i hate it when i do that.

fuck it. tomorrow… sex therapist girl lady… YOU’RE MINE. i don’t care anymore. enough with chasing cougars. i need someone my age that i can relate to and do 19 year old things with. fuck it.

i’m sick of being alone.

-Garden Hose-

alexis breeze.

hop on that shit. latina chick with a big ass.

YUM!!