Yellowsexuals.

I've always been a bit confused by white guys that seem to have a very specific "type." And that "type" being gooky-lookin' yellow Asian giggly bitches. Well, "Asian" is probably enough to describe it. In high school there were always a few dorky white guys that owned trench coats, or were really into video games, or studied some form of martial arts, or stayed after school for Asian-American-Ching-Chong Club, or were really into being bad at breakdancing, or used any other of the millions of geeky distractions (Japanese class, anime, etc.) to hide the fact that they were really trying to get some of that Yellow stanky on their Anglo hang-lows. In college I was too depressed by my bullshit problems to notice. Then I went to China and saw all kinds of white 45 year-old high school creepshows walking around with Chinese girls half their age who barely spoke English. It creeped me out, mostly because I was imagining what they were doing behind closed doors. My imagination wanders, often in the wrong direction.

Within the past few years I came across a number of white guys that were really into Asian girls and always thought it was weird. I should just accept that yellow women have the same wet parts (sideways or not) as all the other colors of women, so why wouldn't [white] men like them? But there is something about these guys I've always thought was a little different. And the thing is, I can't put it into words. And I can usually put everything into words. Often times disgusting words. Maybe it's me fishing around for those stereotypical high school character traits I've always attributed to these white guys suffering from yellow fever. But it's like the arrow in between the 'e' and the 'x' in Fedex, once you see it, you cannot not see it. Actually, that analogy doesn't really work. Like at all. I think I just wanted to use it to see if the reader knows what I'm talking about. And to sound creative. I'm going to hold onto that one and figure out how to use it some day.

I have come across a few black dudes or latinos who are really into Asian women. (And not just the Wu-Tang clan.) It's just not nearly as often. Black dudes often get distracted by the Extra-Fat vanilla ice cream, but I don't think it completely distracts them from all the other flavors. And latinos, especially the short ones, seem to be down to try just about anything (see: barrel-shaped Mexican women). Are Asian girls a White People Problem? Yes.

If you've ever hung out with my friends in NYC you will quickly notice that they are mostly male, and they mostly like other males. If you called me a fag stag, I wouldn't deny it but I would prefer you call me a fruit fly. They are absolutely fabulous! (For full effect, lisp the s's from here on out.) More than one of these friends has told me on different and separate occasions that if a white guy is really into yellow girls, he is gay. And when I thought about all of my past experiences with white men and their Asian girlfriends, it put things into a new perspective. I can't say that I think this stereotype is true, but I won't say it's not true.

So what is it that makes these g-rods think these white guys are masking their peter appetite with Asian girls? Do Asian girls have some sort of secret masculinity that I'm unaware of? Are they all Madonna fanatics? Do Asian girls rip off their shirts at the slightest hint of dance music or a chance to get a tan? Is it because Asian girls often lack shape? Does this lack of shape have these white guys lickin' their lips for some pre-pubescent boy flavor? I don't get it. But at the same time I think I do. I kinda see it. Asians are usually timid and non-confrontational. What better way to cover up your true sexuality than with a slanty-eyed girl that isn't going to ask questions and giggles at 93% of the shit you say?

Whatever it is, I know it doesn't matter. Who cares why these white guys prefer Asian girls? Maybe it's the porcelain skin, or the petite frames, or the good grades, or maybe because it's a permanent video game partner. Or maybe it's because they really do want penis in and around their faces. Oh well. I'm just fascinated about this conclusion my gay buddies have come to. White guys can go right on liking The Yellows. It don't matter to me, I like the brown ones with the butts. Actually, who am I kidding? I like the ones that look at me for at least 3 seconds. I'm in love with them at 4.

I think it was the white half of Drake that said, "Shout out to Asian girls, let the light dim sum."

Might not be gay, but sure is a...

Nothing to say.

I've been staring at this goddamn screen for over an hour trying to figure out something to write and I have come up with nothing (keep reading). I was going to share a bunch of screenshots of notes I have on my phone but then I realized I didn't want to explain why I use the word "faggot" so many times in them. (They're ideas for jokes. Not really jokes about "faggots" but for some stupidass reason I thought they sounded funnier when they had the word "faggot" in them. Yes, I need to use the word "faggot" to get cheap laughs. No, the jokes aren't any good. No, I don't dislike guys that like guys and girls that like girls. Why am I explaining myself to you? Are you really offended? I was going to call you a "faggot" but I decided not to.)

Writing jokes is really hard. I tend to come up with the same ideas over and over again and it gets boring. I'm sure you've noticed. I'm short. I have a pathetic penis. I can't figure out why girls don't like me. (If I took the first two self-degrading comments I made seriously, I would have probably figured it out by now). White people are corny. I hate everyone. I hate myself. Boohoo. Blah blah blah. Nobody cares.

I actually hate people that say they hate people. Because I'm arrogant enough to think: "You have no idea." What a fucking idiot I am. And what a lame ass thing to think. "I hate more people than you!" I wonder how many people hate me on first sight. Who am I kidding? Nobody gives any fucks about me. And that's not a self-loathing, head-in-my-hands comment. It's a fact. Why would you people care? How arrogant am I, to think people actually have an opinion of me when they see me?

Today one of my dogs threw up in the elevator.

It smelled like diarrhea.

Fun.

I'm Tired Of It.

Don't think I don't notice how much I talk about myself. Whether it's preaching about dreams or sharing my tale of asking a girl out through Facebook, I'm completely aware of how pathetically self-absorbed I am. Sometimes I read through my tweets and sigh at all the I's I come across. And most of them are self-deprecating. If I think I'm so goddamn terrible then why do I keep thinking about myself and sharing my pathetic personal experiences with you people? I guess it's because I have nothing else to talk about.

What is the opposite of a God complex? I think I have that.

So let's stop wasting time and let's talk about me.

Over the weekend I spent a lot of time thinking about how much easier it would be to be good-looking. And don't think I'm sitting here with my head in my hands feeling sorry for myself because of my pathetic penis and my height (that was yesterday). I mean, life is actually easier for people who are good-looking.

Good-looking person's schedule:

• 12pm: Wake up. (Waking up in the AM is for ugly people that have to have jobs to get money.)
• 12:01pm-Whenever the party ends. (Get treated like royalty, people go out of their way to help you, laugh at your jokes even when you haven't told one, and give you free desserts, toys, money, and blowjobs.)

The rest of us have to work really hard at our jobs to get ahead and be taken seriously. When we're done with our miserable jobs, where we spend all day bending over backwards for the lookers, we go home every night and self-improve. We have to take piano lessons, or we have to plan trips so we can backpack across a foreign land, or we have to read books, or we have to try to learn a new language, or we have to learn how to cook well. If we're not doing that, then we spend our time catering to good-looking people just so we can be around them and torture ourselves with aspirations of having their amazing lives. It never ends. And although many of these things can be enriching and a great deal of fun, they take up so much goddamn time.

Yes, that is what I am concerned about.

I'm not depressed about not being good-looking because I give a shit about my looks, but because I'm fucking lazy. I would like to come home and not do shit. Why can't I come home and sit in front of the TV and watch Seinfeld reruns? Why can't I just not own books? Why can't I just sit back and listen to a conversation at a dinner party and still come out on top, instead of constantly having to ask questions I don't really care to know the answers to? Why do I have to balance what I say to make sure I sound interesting but not sound like a Know-It-All? Why can't I have 0 hobbies and interests but know there is a pretty gosh darn good blowjob waiting for me just around the corner? Why do I have to do anything? Why is being not good-looking so much goddamn work? 

I met this lady at the dog park a few weeks ago. Over several different conversations on several different days I became more and more attracted to her. I think it's because she is incredible looking and she is completely weird. Those seem to be the two things I really care about. Is that shallow? See, since I'm not good-looking I have to worry about petty shit like sounding shallow. Anyways, after a few very different conversations, I found myself wondering what my life would be like with a woman like her. Then I realized I didn't really know much about her. So I had to ask a ton of questions. And eventually made it a point ask her her name. She told me. I went home and Googled her name and two other tidbits of information she shared with me in previous conversations, where she went to college and what she did for a living.

My creepy search formula = Name + College + Job

And let me point out, it was only her first name. Google is amazing. The second link was her. It was a Wikipedia article. I decided to not read it because I didn't want to ruin the fantasy. So I just looked at her picture (yep). Would we get along? Where would we go on vacations? Would the weirdness get annoying? Would I ever even have a chance with a woman that looked like her? Would it be different if I was good-looking (which is one (of two) of the real reasons I'm writing this)? And then I realized I was wasting my time because I was ignoring the most important question: Does she have a boyfriend? So I read her Wikipedia page (which was obviously written by her) and I got my answer. She does. And he's in a famous band.

Look at that. Really look at it. Being good-looking in this case probably wouldn't have changed the outcome of this. But since I'm not good-looking I have to constantly look for ways to distract myself from my terribly mediocre life. I had to make sure to get to that specific dog park at a certain time, I had to approach her in a way that wasn't overwhelming, I had to say pleasant things about her dog, I had to give an overly dramatic story about the rescued dog I was walking, I had to figure out what she did for a living, I had to ask her how she got into that, I had to ask her about her background, I had to figure out her name, I had to ask the right questions, I had to pay attention to her answers, on and on and on. I had to create and dwell on this entire fantasy that I constructed over weeks. WEEKS! 

Then I did what needed to be done. I clicked on a picture of her boyfriend and realized he wasn't really all that good-looking. He was just good at the guitar and touring with a famous band. She was the one getting away with being good-looking. She was skating by in our conversations because she didn't need to fill her good-looking head with ridiculous plots and fantasies. She had it easy, but what did that have to do with me?

I'm tired from all of the fantasizing about this and that. I'm tired of thinking myself in circles. So I guess I'm right where I started. Exhausted. Exhausted from wasting so much mental energy on wondering what it would be like to be good-looking.

I'm lazy, but I have so much self-improvement left to do. Maybe I'll start with some guitar lessons.