Last Saturday was my brother’s wedding, and obviously everybody had a blast.

However.

One of my brother-in-laws, Vincent, got really drunk, and after the reception, I walked outside and and found him sitting on the curb, with his head down, waiting for chunks to come out.  My sister (his wife, Asia) and my other brother-in-law were there trying to comfort him, they were talking to him, patting and rubbing his back and then out comes the Wedding Singer holding a roll of paper towel.

“I got him, I got him,” The Wedding Singer sat next next to Vincent, patted his mouth with the paper towel roll, and started to rub his back.  My other brother-in-law starts to back off. “I take care of him.  He need to sit here for a while before he can get into the car.”

More back rubbing and massaging ensues, the Wedding Singer looks up at me as I stare in utter confusion and then frantically asks me, “Water. He need water. Can you get it for me?”

“Yeah,” I answered.  I ran back to the restaurant looking for water.  The waiters seemed very occupied cleaning up the area so I grabbed the nearest and cleanest looking glass of water from one of the tables. I walked out of the place and found the Wedding Singer in the middle of a conversation with Asia.

“Everyone go! Go! I take care of him!” He takes the cup out of my hands while talking to my sister, “He my friend. I will help.”

“I’m his wife,” Asia giggled, trying to make the situation less awkward, “And I’m not going anywhere without my husband.”

So we all stayed, waiting for Vincent to puke, while the Wedding Singer caresses his back some more and uses the water to help clean his mouth.

During this time, NOBODY thought of anything.  We just thought the Wedding Singer was being really, really helpful and really, really weird, until…

*BLERHHHH!!!*

Barf galore, barf on the ground, barf on the curb, and barf on the Wedding Singer’s arm.

“It’s OK. I take care of him.  Everybody go,” he motions his hand suggesting us to go away.

He was ok with it. He was much more concerned with us going away so that he could be alone with my brother-in-law then his arms, covered in the thickest, smelliest smellin’ shit puke ever.  And that’s where it hit me and my sister.  We looked at each other, mouth wide open, and we knew exactly what we were thinking…

This guy is dead horny and he wants my sister’s husband, badly.

After the puke fest and realizing the Wedding Singer’s disturbing motives, my sister and I both helped Vincent up.

“Thanks for helping my husband, we’re going home now.”

“Wait, he should sit here longer.  It’s not good to bring him into the car rye now,” The Wedding Singer grabs a hold of Vincent’s shoulder, “You guys go. I do it myself.”

“Dude, you’re not getting ass tonight. Sorry.” I told him.  Without saying a word, he released his grip, and that was the last of the Wedding Singer.

Geez, what a creepfuck.  If I had taken a photo of him, I would have most certainly posted it here to warn people, like what people do when they find sexual offenders, because I have no doubt in my mind that he does this in every–if not most–weddings. I mean, the guy was already equipped with a roll of paper towel, how strategic can you get?

So I have to warn any Vietnamese people from Orange County who are planning to hire Vietnamese wedding singers/bands. I know that there’s a shitload of them out there in this county, but if you HAPPEN to hire a band and one of them has buzzed hair, wears glasses, and speaks terrible English…keep an eye on him after the reception.

*shudders*

If I’m not updating this blog as usual starting today, then it probably means I’m having a kickass time doing kickass stuff.

Now what might be some of those kickass things I will be doing that’s so kickass for the summer you ask?

Well, I’m decorating my new bedroom (hey I consider that to be kickass thanks). I want my bedroom to scream…ohhh I don’t know…five-year-old girl with a sick and twisted fucked-up mind? Mebbe. I bought a bedroom set that’s actually meant for younger girls (lol);  it’s really adorable, has a pure cottage-vintagey taste to it, however, I’m planning to add certain things that will add a touch of creepiness to it, just a touch (An understatement? Mebbe).

I’ve already purchased two adorable plush taxidermy from T&A Friendly for my wall:

Next week, I will be going to Las Vegas for the first time for my brother’s fiance’s bachelorette party.  Part of the trip includes seeing Thunder Down Under, which I am a little nervous by, just ’cause I’m not so much turned on by male strippers. I think they’re gross.  I rather, very much, check out female strippers as oppose to seeing a squad of male strippers completely stripped of their manliness-doing awkward stripper dance routines to which I consider is more feminine.

Then there is my brother’s wedding.  And I get to have their place in Santa Ana all to myself for a couple of days when they’re at their honeymoon. There will be lots of furniture shopping, museums to check out, and foods to eat.

Lacuna Coil show in Hollywood with my kickass friends. Three goals I have for the show is to:

1. Rock out really hard with friends.
2. Not get hurt.
3. To add more deadliness into a deadly mosh pit by performing a roundhouse kick of death (but that could conflict with goal #2 wouldn’t it?)

And the best of all, Comic-Con and Video Games Lives in San Diego!  Will be dressing up as the female counterpart of Kakashi from Naruto!!

So there you have it, my kickass plans for the summer.  And if I’m not blogging as usual, you can look at these tasteful photos that was taken recently at Cheesecake Factory restaurant.  My beauty will surely keep you occupied entranced until the next entry…

I spent most of the day yesterday at the drugstore waiting at the end of a very long line to get my stuff rung up. After waiting for what it seems like eternity, I was finally next in line to purchase, but as soon as I was about to set my things down, the cashier lady quickly slammed a mustard yellow sign down that read:

CLOSED.

PLEASE GO TO THE NEXT CASHIER

Astonished, I turned around to see the reaction on other people’s face but nobody was behind me. I was the last person in line who waited the longest only to get rejected by a CLOSED sign. I stood there, just lifelessly, waiting for the cashier lady to say, “Oh I can take you since you’re the last person.”

…but no. In fact, she did the worse. She pretended I wasn’t there. I read the sign once more, then looked around to see if anybody was laughing at me, and looked at her again. No eye contact whatsoever, she was staring at the monitor.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, I quickly got over it and followed what the sign had ordered me to do: go to the next cashier.

The line wasn’t long compared to the first one since there were two people already before me. And boy, did it take forever…again. The customer who was at the beginning of the line had a shit ton of items and I believe one of their stuff needed a price check. The second customer, the one right in front me, holy shit, didn’t know how to count change or something, so he was standing there, all fucking afternoon, counting change over and over again.

As I was waiting, looking fidgety as ever ’cause I was tempted to count the change for him, the same cashier lady decided to wake up and be a freakin’ blowjob.  That’s right, she’s a gaddamn blowjob and I don’t like her.  What she did was she removed her hideous mustard barf yellow sign and said to the man waiting behind me, “You know what, I can take one more person, why don’t I take care of your stuff sir.”

I swear Ima kill somebody.

Feeling aggravated and a little hurt, I mumbled to myself, “Ughh…you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The slow-counting change guy turns around and gives me a stubborn look as he’s counting the numbers quietly.  He then looks at the first half of his change and combines it with the other half.  Then I realized what I had mumbled had disrupted his concentration which lead him to start all over again.

Perfect.