Come and dance in the political ballroom. Care to dance with me?

I can no longer avoid "dancing" around the political scene. Often enough, I try to avoid political issues in hopes I don't start a conversation war with others. I have my opinions, thoughts, and rants. I just keep them to myself, that's all. Tending to any thoughts capable of dancing around certain discussions. Even so when you have all the right moves, baby.

Unfortunately, I missed the Michael Moore & O'Reilly dance last night. I was in DC watching 8 comedians exchange their jokes and gripes on their comedy stage platforms. *Which, by the way, a very good friend of mine should have won that battle of comedic sets. He's damn funny! Sweet Ass was robbed of his comedy crown and sash. You Damn Bastards! Shawn, (though it's cool to know the 3rd funniest guy in DC), you still have the #1, sweetest ass in all the land. You rocked your routine; 1st place in my opinion* What do I know, I'm just an asian chick. :)

So I read the Michael Moore and O'Reilly transcript, (partial bits that I could find, that is) and I couldn't help but think of these two bastards as Rock'em Sock'em robots. The similarities are quite frightening to me. These men are opinion fighters who possess a relentless urge to argue, but neither really get anywhere. They throw a few jabs here and there, occasionally landing a good hit. Though in the end, there's no clear winner in this contest of ideas. It's just two men dancing around in a opinion ring. (Ring in this case being O'Reilly's set) I don't favor one opinion over the other. The political dance could have been just a tid bit more fun last night. Then again, no one spiked the punch.

Respectively sharing each of their own ideologies, both men are completely opposite of one another. If only the exchange of ideas resulted to an actual political conversation, I would have enjoyed reading the bits of transcripts I have found online. I don't understand why this discussion ever came to be in the first place. These are two men who will never come to an agreement of their political dogmas. In order to have a rational 9/11 or WMD discussion, one must provide solution, knowledge, evidence and truth. I found none from either parties in the discussion.

Truth Hates Delay.

*Kicks off dancing shoes*

I still need to pack for my 4 day trip to Chicago. I leave at the butt crack of dawn tomorrow morning. Butt crack of dawn meaning really, really damn early. Unfortunately I've allowed myself to drown in procrastination. (Much like masterbation, I'm only fucking myself.) And on that note, I'll say farewell to all the Leezuhhl bloggists. I'll return early Monday morning. I'll be blogging my ass off then. :) I'll also be starting my new job... YAY! Ciao.

I think therefore I am asian. Occasionally, this will mean I equate as your human abacus.

Life is all about ass:

You're either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, kissing it, busting it, or trying to get a piece of it.

*grumble*

The ambiguously gay female cops will rue the day they flashed their "dancing lights" at one Ms. Liezel.

In route to my last improv class in DC, I was instructed by the sounds of sirens and god awful disco lights to direct my vehicle off to the side of the road. I complied with these un-called for demands. Why was I drawn in the Route 270 car lottery to play with the pigs? Much was my dismay when I took notice of the two officers in plain clothing. (Brightly neon "hurts too much to look at" yellow shirts I may add) I recognized the ambiguously gay female cops as a sign to buttoning back the top buttons of my shirt and the un-perking of my breasts. This soon came to be the "Oh shit, I'm going to get a ticket moment. Gosh darn my frazzled luck.

Perturbed, and running behind schedule, I turn off the engine. I quickly prayed to the Traffic Violating Gods to "bless" me with impunity this cool, cloudy morning. Due to my numerous absences at DMV Church, I was given a $275 speeding ticket as my penance. And people wonder why one loses their faith...

*grumble*

Let's move along to more positive moments of my weekend shall we?

My brother Kevin and I decided yesterday was the day we would play the sport of tennis. Luckily for us, there were no spectators pressed up against the high fence.

I would associate our game playing skills with a mentally disabled person making love to a doorknob. You feel for us, but you can't help but laugh at our bungling ways. Unpack your bags folks, we're not heading to Wimbledon anytime soon.

If only we were both able to grasp the simple idea that tennis is much like the game PONG. Unfortunately this was a game beyond my little brother's time. He's more of the NES tennis game genre. *Mind you, we played tennis just as slow as that version of NES tennis. Kudos to the people who know what game I'm referencing. It's quite "old school"* If only we were given proper instruction, we would become the asian sensations of the tennis court. Or at least spokespeople for drycleaning your tennis wear needs.

Moving along. ;)

I will not subject you to my experience at an asian bar lounge Saturday night. The last time I saw this many asians crammed into a confined space was back when we were sardined on a boat coming to America. I'm kidding, we snuck in via banana crates. I beginning to think that cutting a rug is the same as dry humping. Don't get me wrong, I've been known to "boogie" on the dance floor, but I quickly take a seat when I'm done getting my leg humped by drunk men.

Moving along. ;p

A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops. Henry Brooks Adams

Sweet Ass, you're a great teacher. Never doubt yourself. You are what you are. Thanks for making class fun to learn and play. Now make up some other class so the DICSC alumni can avoid the improv comedy class withdrawal!! And go.

In a zen like state, I've discovered why we lollop around most of our lives...

Apologies for a delayed update my friends. The massive e-mails & not so friendly voicemails were my clue to begin my ranting and rambling once again. Blog writing is definitely feasible, especially when your own friends threaten to take your soul away. You are all evil . "Eeevil...like its the frooits of the deveel.....Eeevil!"

It's been hectic. Much to update, and little time to do so. In my best Conan O'Brien impression, "Just be cool my babies." Pat Hogan is one of those evil people who told me I needed to update. Yeah, this coming from a man who hasn't updated his many times over "plugged" site via e-mail. The last time that man has done any kind of updating was back when popping chubbies in sweat pants in gym class was in style. And what? I'm going to blog, blog away.

Ah, relaxtion. We all need it, and we just don't get much of it. Shame on all of us.

Well just sit back Jack and relax and enjoy a smile.
Well let your mind go… For a minute or two,
Let your mind levitate for a delicate few.

We work ourselves into a corner. Often times enough, we let our jobs take over our social lives. (Or what's left of one.) We all work long, whorish hours. And for what? Money? It's always about the damn money. Money eagerly spent on that dream BMW, right? Beach House in the Hamptons, perhaps? How about that dream date with that special someone who normally would have ignored you back in high school? What happened to the days of carefree fun? Where the undeniable will to just kicking back overruled even the slightest tasks? Oh, who am I kidding? We can barely remember what we ate last night, more or less how to enjoy life like we did back in our childhoods. Simply, the art of enjoying life has squandered into the fumes of corporate buildings all around the country. 'Tis working for the "MAN" that has brought our spirits, (and sex lives) to a non-existent, and utter halt. I say we dispose of the Vaseline use of working the daily grind, and hereby declare today, "Screw working for the MAN day". Our motto: "No more ass raping corporate america! Our asses are damn sore! And we can't afford any more jars of vaseline, ya damn jerks!"

Maybe we don't how to relax because we let our worries get the best of us. We worry about everything, don't we? The worry list grows bigger each day, too. Am I fat? Will she call me? Am I going to get that fucking raise or what? Should I get the chicken or the fish? Do I have a nice ass? Is the episode of Celebrity Poker a repeat? Download midget porn or the olson twins video? Is quarter of a tank enough to get there? Should I be on the internet at work? Should I meet his parents? Will that hairy mole on the back of my neck ever go away? Should I have another cup of coffee? Does anyone know where in the damn world is Carmen SanDiego? And Where did I put that damn remote?

Here are some "so-called" tips to help you relax and succeed in life: (Bah, I say)

-Breath--Most people tense up and hold their breath
-Take some time for yourself everyday...you deserve it
-Stretch those tense muscles
-Read something up lifting every morning
-Take 20-30 minutes a day to be in silence with nature
-Remember the glass is always half full
-Let go of worry and make changes in your life
-Laugh...it's hard to be stressed when you're laughing
-Give back to society and it will give back to you
-Remember life is the journey not the destination
-Take time to be grateful everyday

Here are Liezel's tips that are much more effective than the ones listed above:

-Read a book that isn't about motivation or relaxation. This is a good book to read.
-Learn a new skill. Not only will you acquire a new hobby, you'll gain about one or two more friends!
-Screw Atkins. Screw low carbs. Feed your face. Participate in an vigorous excercise. You'll get the body you want, without going under the knife. Maybe?
-Spend time with family. Make time. Who knows who you'll kill next. Life is short.
-Get in touch with your spiritual self. Only you can truly touch yourself.
-Volunteer yourself into a psychiatric ward. Crazy people could use the self esteem boost. (only in comparison to you, of course)
-Whistle while you work. No one can hear you masterbating under your desk that way.
-Beer. Liquor. Wine. The three wise men, in my opinion. Get to know them. They're nice.
-Have sex. More it resembles monkey sex, the better. Trust your primal instincts, baby.
-Yell at someone if you must. It's good way to get that aggression out. Trust me.
-Join a cult. Not only will it get you outside the house, but you'll feel loved again.
-Nothing says relaxation than an asian massage. Enough said.

These are tell tale signs that you need to relax. Here are just a few signs to look out for:

-You begin your own version of Fight Club.
-You use your hands for hand puppets. "Friends" you named "Herbie" and "Ernie". (You know who you are.) :)
-You lost the will to eat fast food. (Or anything bad for you)
-Your sex life has gone terribly awry.

And I'm back with a vengeance folks. Blog on.

Bis repetita placent - The things that please are those that are asked for again and again. (Horace)

The universe may not always play fair, but at least it's got a hell of a sense of humor.

I love Sex... in the city, that is!

Carrie Bradshaw: Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

Out of the four lovely ladies on the show, I feel I can relate to both the Carrie & Samantha characters. I'm not a prude, like Charlotte and I'm not uptight like Miranda. I'm a mix of both the sassy Samantha and the carefree Carrie, in my opinion. (And no, I didn't take one of those stupid online quizzes to figure this out) I've just saturated myself with sex... in the city for most of the morning.

Kim Cattrall on Sex and the City:
The show has made it okay for women to talk about what they like and don't like sexually. It's raised the bar for honesty. I think the show is about the struggle to find intimacy and the struggle for wholeness and completeness.

-- Page 108, Kim Cattrall Sex and the City: Kiss and Tell Book

This version of Birth Control probably ended up on the cutting room floor each season.

Sex. You crave it, you love it, you hate it. :p Sex is a gamble. You never know what you get yourself into until you play that frisky hand of yours. Speaking of gambling, celebrity poker is on later tonight. Shuffle up and Deal.