Month: April 2014
Koko’s Gym Dynamics
We all know there’s only one reason people go to the gym – to look sexy naked.
We like take that one reason and create more elaborate excuses that make it seem like we have more profound, intelligent grounds for working out. But lets face it – if we really cared that much about our health, we’d pay more attention to what foods go into our pie holes as well as incorporating more physical activities into our daily lives outside of our gym time. We don’t have to have gym memberships to be healthy, we choose to flock to these bacteria-rampant, over-priced metal cages to pick up heavy things along side other sweaty people.
Although we all have the same reason for going to the gym, once we get to the actual gym we transform into 1 of 3 people: the bro, the creeper, or the energizer-bunny.
Take my gym experience this morning for example:
I walked into the gym and the first thing I did was take a subtle lap around the place to scope out what fellow gymers I’ll be gyming around today. The place was pretty desolate being that the Monday after Easter is also a national holiday in South Africa, but I did see one dude over in the corner doing some curls. I strutted past the pool and reach a row of seven empty treadmills. I hopped on the middle one which is right in front of a giant mirror. Yes, I’m that vain. But I’m a gym-bro: Muscle tank, headband ‘n all.
I put my ear-buds on and crank up my running playlist.
Sidenote: Necessary to every running playlist is:
ATB’s- Ecstacy
& Tiesto’s – Elements of Life
I saw movement on my left side and glance over, a man is getting on the treadmill directly beside me. He mugged me and throws a head nod in my direction, I shot one back and immediately accepted the guy’s provocation. This bro wanted to compete.
These treadmills are too far apart to successfully complete the casual ‘I’m just scanning the room and oops! I checked your speed and mileage on your display’ move. So I just had to go off my magical unicorn instincts, gauging how fast and how far he’s running in comparison to myself. Now before coming to the gym, I told myself I’ll warm up with 2 miles before I hit the weights for some Olympic lifting, then finish off with yoga and abs. But once this bro tried to throw his head nods around like he’s king of the treadmills, I ended up running over 4 miles. I checked my watch and realized I’m cutting into my lifting time by racing this old guy, so I decided to take the high road and continue on with my gym sesh. I hopped off the treadmill and the guy stopped running to ask me how far I ran.
ARE YOU FOR REAL BRO!?!!
I almost said “Oh I’m not done” and got back on my treadmill just to outrun him, but decided it’s not worth it. I smiled and said, “4 miles,” and walked away, knowing that his South African brain is programmed to measure by kilometers and he’d spend the rest of the day struggling to figure out the conversion. haha. I. win.
Why do we always want to compete with people working at the same machines? There are many reasons. Some of us are just natural born competitors, always looking for an opportunity to beat other people so we can feel better about ourselves. If this is you, then you are a gym bro. (Sype approves of this message)
Every once in a while there’s a sexy gazelle that you have to one-up by showing your strength as a way of impressing her and getting her attention.
As so describe by the bro Dom Mazzetti in …
I may just be paranoid, but I think some dudes just come to the gym to creep on females, and occasionally tone their biceps in the process. GYM CREEPERS!
Ask any girl and they will tell you there is at least one time during every gym sesh where she feels eyes undressing her, she glances around with her peripherals and BOOM! There’s a dude trying to low-key stare from a distance. So fucking creepy.
If you’re gonna stare, at least be slick about it! I’ll admit, I can appreciate a physically fit physique as much as the next girl, but if I’m gonna cop a glance it’s gonna be subtle as fuck. I’m not tryna interrupt anyone’s workout by being a creeper, nor do I want to be pegged as a gym creeper. If you’re gonna check someone out- don’t be so creepily obvious about it OR if you want someone’s attention, go workout directly next to that person and workout so exuberantly they can’t help notice you.
On the flip-side, some chicks are just asking for attention…
Not everyone in the gym is there to compete with people or to pick up chicks. Every now and then you’ll notice someone in the gym who’s all strung out on pre-work out – he probably has an idea of what muscle groups he wanted to target but once that Ravage kicks in, he’s running from machine to machine with no clear pattern or focus as he’s doing one set of each movement from calves to biceps to jump-roping and now he’s on an elliptical? We’ve all been there. Not gonna lie, I’ve been there too. A little overdose on that pre-workout will turn a focused, planned gym sesh into a circus of I-Dont-Know-What-The-Fuck-I’m-Doing-But-I-Have-Energy-For-Days!!!!!
There’s also another kind of energizer gym bunny who’s not on pre-workout, but rather a middle-aged mid-life crisiser who’s never been to a commercial gym but wants to burn off that beer gut so he’s sporadically diddling around the entire gym trying to figure his life out. Props to that guy, better late than never. Keep picking up heavy things, you’ll get there eventually old man.
Whatever category of gym-goer you find yourself in, take comfort in the fact that everyone else is in the gym for the same reason as you. We all have a desire to look sexy naked, or at least be confident enough to parade around in a swimsuit during pool party season in Vegas.
My Disinterest in Today’s Society’s Interest in the Act of the Personal Portrait Called the #Selfie
This is Airec Sype here letting you know that I HATE SELFIES!
Seriously, Je*us. Ever since Instagram pop’d up on every smart phone, every mother effer in the world is taking selfies.
Now, if you’re a hot chick and want to show the world how hot you are in your skimpy and delicious outfit for the night or if you wanna show your hot & sweaty body after the gym with your abs straight flexing then sure, take a selfie. I know as much as the next guy we would love to see your tight body so we can conduct a forum with our bros the next day to debate about how much we’ve thought about spank-banking you. But please, only take one selfie. I know that you’re in a club bathroom looking fine, but I don’t know how I can handle seeing 20 selfies of you and your bi*ches out on a night of vodka and bathroom bl*w.
Well, I guess the only exception for my selfie rule is if you’re like ridiculously hot or if you’re a celebrity, then fuggin selfie away. But remember, not all of us can be as hot as the Chainsmokers “#Selfie” chicks.
haha, hashtag bitches. It’s in the video so don’t attack me.
And guys, why are you taking selfies? I think as a man I don’t really have to explain this. I mean sure, if you’re at some event or place of importance during some kind of revolutionary time such as EDC or a riot or if you just wanna take a quick selfie of you laying down pipe just so you can prove it to your bros later . . . then sure, take a selfie. But don’t take selfies if you just woke up or if you think you look “fly” for some freshmen-sororosluts party tonight. You might as well send dickpics . . . take notes on this parody video:
I guess get “some bl*w” and “take another dickpic” . . . Make sure you’re the “Edwardsissor hands of pubes” so you don’t have the “hipster bush.”
But all in all, I’m not your master, you can do whatever the fugg you want. Take selfies, just . . . I don’t know how to end this. Just . . . GAHHH I don’t like selfies.
On a side note: Yes, not all men but about 99.9 percent of males are perverts and have a spank-bank. Don’t judge us, just accept us for who we are.
Back to the topic at hand: If you keep on taking selfies you might get kicked in the face like this stupid kid:
“He kicked me in the head?” he said after receiving a boot to the face. Of course you did, that’s what you get for taking a #selfie.
-Sype
P.S. Snapchat users, you guys look like eff idiots when you make those stupid faces on the MUNI or when you’re walking to class and documenting it in a video to send to your “bytches.”
P.S.S. Girls please continue taking hot selfies of yourselves and your girls so we guys can discuss your choice of attire the next day.
What do people listen to in South Africa?
Well, I’m glad you asked 🙂 Africans love their dance music! This is what they consider ‘house music’. It kinda has a drummy beat with some build ups, definitely a different style of composition than that house we love so much back in the States. One of the most popular songs I’ve heard since arriving in good ol’ Afrika Borwa is Y Tjukutja BTW, ‘Y Tjukutja’ means ‘shake your body’ in the Xhosa language (one of South Africa’s 11 official languages). Congratulations, you learned something new today. You’re welcome 😉 This chick Mampi is from Zambia and sings in Bemba. Also very popular in South Africa. She’s singing about her lover, it’s a love song, but she really does know how to get you up & moving! After all, that’s the point of dance music right? Then there’s these weirdo Afrikaaners who are creepy as fuck, but they’re well liked for their shock value. Die Antwoord translated means The Answer. Not gonna lie, their demeanor, costume choice, props, everything about their video production in fucking nuts. But I like it. They’re pushing the limits of normalcy, and their outrageous IDGAF attitude makes me want to watch, holding my breath with anticipation of what the next barbaric scene has to offer. All in all, I’m really digging the spread of musical entertainment in South Africa. A lot of the music is in any of the South African languages I don’t understand, but still there’s so much energy to it. And what I’ve discovered is that it doesn’t matter if you understand the lyrics or not, the beat still lifts you out of your chair and makes you wanna dance. 😀 -Kokokai
To The Person Who Puked In My Bathroom: A Letter
this is gold. i’ve been on both sides of this spectrum before, also someone puked all over my restroom last weekend and broke my counter. it’s a good thing i have pledges to clean it up. gotta love being in a fraternity.
Creative Writing: Not a Real Major Asian Parents?
Its been awhile since I’ve post a Koko and Airec conversation, so here is one after Koko saw a nice Tickld description of college majors.
STAY TUNE FOR MORE ASIAN AMERICAN COMMENTARIES AFTER!!!
****** Note: This conversation was ripped from my Facebook so the links will open on the same page. Click up there ^^^ if you want to see the Tickld link open on another page. Links after this conversation will open on another page. Happy Juno? ******
Koleana Kai McGuire posted toAirec Syprasert
“Because job security is for pussies”
http://m.tickld.com/x/37-slogans-for-college-majors-if-they-were-actually-honest–
Airec Syprasert not gonna lie, when i first saw this post i was pretty drunk and didnt read it, but now im glad i did. funny cuz your major isnt on there!
Koleana Kai McGuire Haha it is pretty funny. maybe my major isn’t popular enough to be included?
Airec Syprasert or maybe your major is too bro?
Koleana Kai McGuire Lol too bro? Its possible
Airec Syprasert kin, a major that focus on muscles and pulling bitches? yea, thats pretty bro, bro. haha
Koleana Kai McGuire Hahaha well when you put it that way…its pretty bro
Airec Syprasert says the broett. lol.
Airec Syprasert http://www.buzzfeed.com/…/77-facts-that-sound-like-huge…
77 Facts That Sound Like Huge Lies But Are Actually Completely True
Get ready to have your mind blown into a different time zone.
Airec Syprasert check out number 25
Koleana Kai McGuire Hahaha that’s awesome
Airec Syprasert you can go ahead and plan your move now
Creative Writing: Because Job Security is for Pussies
Yea, I guess it’s true that I have not been able to find a job after college. And yes, there is no job security for creative writing majors.
If anyone believed in this fact to the t, it’s my parents. Oh boy, the look on their faces when I told them that I wanted to be an English, or Engurish: it’s my crappy understanding of the English language, major was priceless . . . Oh wait, I didn’t have the balls to tell them face to face; I took the cowards way out (like how most bros in high school took the I’ll-just-break-up-with-you-over-Myspace route) and did it over the phone . . . after being in college for 3 years. I seriously could sense their disappointed chakra over my shitty flip-phone. (And I probably still have a flip-phone because I was an Engurish major.)
But seriously though, how do you tell your ASIAN parents that you wanna become a “writer” instead of a doctor, or lawyer, or pediatrician, or whatever practical real (real in a sense that my parents value as a “real” major) major. Being the first son of an immigrant Asian family to go to a 4 year university and failing at their first step (choosing the right major) is not an easy task to preform. Hell, till this day my parents are still trying to get me to do something else in life other than writing . . . AND I’VE ALREADY GRADUATED!
Seriously though, that tiger mom (a relentless mean Asian mom who’s always trying to get you to study and whose once cock blocked the shit out of you with the girl of your dreams before by pulling a Moses when he smashed the golden ox . . . this is actually a true story) is effin’ relentless when it comes to changing your education. Check out this tiger mom meme blog.
This video cracks me up every-time #cockblockingasianparents
And anyone who has or have an Asian immigrant father knows not to mess with him . . . or else you see that fly swatter that he bought from Chinatown earlier used on you. #weasiansknowallaboutthatflyswatter
I mean I guess I could have had chosen a real Asian-esk major and bite the bullet to become a fucking scientist or a nurse (but that wouldn’t really work since I’m not Filipino) but I didn’t want to. I have my American dream, I choose my path and rebelled against my Asian ways. Truth be told, I think I was only one of the few, and I really do mean few, Asian kids in the creative writing program at SFSU. I had to make the Yellow Brothas proud and represent our people in the creative writing department.
In this article, its states that Asian Americans who are pressured by their parents are more susceptible to depression and suicide . . . I don’t want any of that. I don’t wanna be another Asian American who grows up hating their career choice because it’s one made by their parents. Shit, do you know how many (Other)-Americans hate their life now because they hate their fuggen job. It’s a never ending cycle of regret. I’ll rather be a teacher than become a nurse and hate my life. Well, I mean at least this way I can enrich the young minds of our future . . . while meeting single moms along the way. I maybe Asian and a hipster, but I’m still kinda of a bro and I do have bro dreams.
Also me a doctor? I don’t know how that’s gonna work. As some of my friends who knows me, how can anyone see this man taking care of or being in charge of someone else’s life. This man who once tried beer-bonging two beers with two 151 shots in it (successfully and regretfully), this man who has raged 5 sleepless nights in Vegas for EDC . . . THREE TIMES, this man who still live in a frat house and is broke as shit (still I think this is because this is because of my choice to become an Engurish major); I just don’t think that’s a good idea for anyone.
Shit, before I joined my fraternity, bless Pi Kappa Phi, I told my parents that I was joining a teaching club for people who were interested in teaching. I did learn how to be a rightful Christian man, but there are somethings that I learned and did that I would never want my future wife n’ children to know. And of course, I hope my Asian parents never find out what their first born did. Or else I would be force to live a life in the temple without distractions . . . especially women.
I’m a proud Asian American who have American cultural value and was raised with the ways of the Asian. Yes the ways of the Asian is a secret martial arts form. Its my birth right to decide what I want to do with my life and it’s my choice to defy the Asian American Model-Minority stereotypes. Hell, if they wanted to force me into doing what they wanted me to do then they should have had me in Asian, or at least Chinatown. This way no sense of Western ideals of freedom would have crept into my soul.
Being an English Creative Writing graduate may not have been the best choice for making cash, nor may it have been the best choice for gaining a higher bragging right for my parents to brag about within their gossiping Asian American community back at home, but it’s my choice as an American born citizen. I may not have job security, but my god, am I going to have fun drinking my way till I do make it as a writer.
-I hope you have a good one, Sype
-PS, mom and dad, if you end up reading this, I gotta say #sorryasianparents.
-PSS, but still respect your parents, because if it wasn’t for them you would probably be born in Asia somewhere making jeans for Wal-Mart instead of being in college where you can drink your asses off and try n’ fug white girls (or boi’s, whatever your into and if you’re a girl).
Inside the Dark Minds of Koko and Airec 