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Sunday, September 12, 2004

1. Dawei went out for drinks with the added bonus of going on a stalking mission.
2. Dawei found Cap in Bar Guy (thankfully sans cap).
3. Dawei chatted to Cap in Bar Guy, and they exchanged witty, elitist banter.
4. Dawei and Cap in Bar Guy began to touch each other in a friendly, brotherly way.
5. Dawei and Cap in Bar Guy began to touch each other in a friendly, not-so brotherly way very frequently indeed.
6. Dawei and Cap in Bar Guy exchanged phone numbers.
7. Dawei and Cap in Bar Guy pissed off another homo who also has a crush on Cap in Bar Guy.
8. Dawei "bwahahaha!"ed as Jealous Revolting Fugmo poured his half-empty drink over Cap in Bar Guy's head.
9. Dawei devoured the pizza Cap in Bar Guy bought for him.
10. Dawei and Cap in Bar Guy went back to Cap in Bar Guy's hotel suite and made out for five hours, only pausing to laugh at Jealous Revolting Fugmo's constant phone calls and abusive voicemails.


First and foremost: go Dawei, rocking the stalking. Damn I'm good. But this is all very weird. I mean, now that I have him completely ensnared in the Dawei-trap (he is so my bitch), I'm not sure I even want him. Like, I keep finding faults with him. For example: he has a Louis Vuitton wallet. Just... no. Also, he's a bit of a shortass. I know I'm not the tallest person in the universe, but I'd like my men to at least be my height. Thirdly, he has that ugly/hot thing going on. Sometimes he looks really cute and appealing, and then others he looks like he's been ridden hard and put away wet. Although that was mostly this morning, and who looks their freshest at 8am on a Sunday morning after being up all night drinking?

Sigh. I do like him. I think. I think my standards are just way too high. You can't have everything, Dawei! But now I'm all doubting, and thinking that maybe I should hold out for something better, preferably in a tall dark Italian-y model... but I won't. I think I have a date (SCREECH!) tomorrow with him, so I reckon I should focus all my nervous energy towards that. What am I going to wear?! What if I get a spot? My God, how do you plebs do this whole dating thing without going crazy?!

PS -- I think it's a bad thing that we never actually had the Sex. We just made out in our underwear. Crap. That means there's that expectation and anticipation thing. FUCK. I bet he wants to do it sober. God. Sober sex?! HELP. FUCK! Plus, y'know, today my testicles are the size of grapefruit and it hurts to walk.

PPS -- The word is bulge. My God, there is no way that thing is getting within thirty centimetres of my anus, I could see the head trying to rip away from his Dolce and Gabbanas. And he's LOADED.

PPPS -- I just got this text message: "Thanks for a very good evening... you're one very very kewl guy... looking forward to seeing you tomorrow... That is, if you're still keen sober." Okay, "kewl"? Good lord. Loser. I'm going to have to fix that.