Genesic GaoGaiGar

Check out this bad boy toy, Genesic GaoGaiGar.

Arrived yesterday from BigBadToyStore.



More pics to follow if I deign to take it out of the box and assemble it even.
Read more about the anime, GaoGaiGar. How I love Wikipedia. :)

“What up Dog?” 2006

Dog

This year belongs to you, Dogs. You will feel as though you have won the lottery and beaten the devil all at once. The time has come, Doggie dear, for you to shine. Humanity will finally begin to benefit from your intense belief in its basic good. Be careful. Don't let success go to your head. Slacking off is not possible for you, ever. But, you can allow yourself a holiday or two-go somewhere exotic where the people appreciate your kindnesses. Remember, this is the year in which you must plan the next 12-year cycle of your life. Visualize your deepest desires. Whatever you project into the future now can be yours.

Courtesy of AOL Horoscopes

Threshold

Pulling the shirt over my head in the locker room, my chest vibrated in protest. Soreness and stiffness momentarily taking me by surprise.

In the back of my mind, a voice hissed "Why am I doing this?" With those "uttered" words, my body was crushed with fatigue. I sighed loudly. Stymied, I stood still for a second, contemplating the question.

Why do I get up early, only to stress my body?
Why do I stop sleeping to torture myself?

This particular day, I was looking at a half hour run on the treadmill. Its tiring. Its boring, requiring exorbitant amounts of focus. Bleech.

"Make or break?" I laughed inwardly.

Taking a deep breath, I continued changing for my workout.

Make.

That was pivotal for my progress and growth. Easily, I could've packed up my gym bag, promising to pick up again tomorrow. I'd probably grab a McGriddle along the way, just to torture myself. Aye, the mind can be a mutinous, rebellious thing when the body's in pain.

I remember reading Bob Paris. Yeah, I was one of those nascent, scrawny little boys, reading (and getting off on) muscle men mags, of which, Bob Paris was one of my obsessions. Anyway, he wrote, "The best time to go to the gym, is when you don't want to." Or something like that. At the time, I didn't believe it.

Now, I understand that it is true. You have to keep pushing when your body doesn't want to push any harder and it has nothing left to give. Press on, break through. The body is elastic and pliable. It'll grow and adapt, if you give it the right stimulation.

"Why am I doing this?" a rhetorical question of which I have always had an answer. I just needed some reminding.

Oh, the pain we pay for health. But let's be honest, we all go to lengths for vanity.

ENOUGH!!! Warning Shot Across NBF's Bow

7:40 AM
As I ran back and forth through the apartment, gathering my things for the day, I peeked out the side window. Off the corner, I note a black Car, positive make ID, Camry.

Last two times I found seed strewn all over the ground, I recall this same car in the vicinity prior. Likely in my last fleeting encounter with NBF in a black sedan, I mis-identified the make as a Nissan Maxima.

7:55AM
Just before I walk down my steps, quick peek. Car's gone.

7:56AM
There's one pile of seed, freshly spilt upon the ground.

Uncharacteristic of NBF. Was either interrupted or nearly busted, surreptitious bastard.

You know this is wrong. Why do it?

The pieces are coming together.

This evening, I come home to find the sidewalk littered with birdseed. I bristled.
NBF didn't like being stopped, came back to finish.

I walk further to find the Camry parked right in front of my house.

"STOP FEEDING THE PIGEONS. (Yes, YOU!)" Second Draft - Final

This I placed on to the windshield. If I get NBF, great, if not, no harm done.
I'd softened it up from:

"STOP FEEDING THE PIGEONS. (YOUR ONLY WARNING.)" First Draft

It was too blunt. Subtlety works best. Hopefully the implied threat is understood.

After I'd placed the note under the wiper, I swept up the seed. There was a can full of store bought grade bird feed on the floor.

It took all my willpower not to liberally sprinkle the seed upon the car. I didn't want to risk harassing an innocent, although I'm sure I have NBF, dead to rights. And its raining, would've washed off anyway. I'd need something to help it stick like molasses or honey. Fun. I'll save that for the next volley/sortie if i have to escalate matters.

Eagle Outing

"You're going to a bar???" asked the BF in disbelief. Generally, I don't like bars. Sure, I'll do them after work. I'm in the city already. Convenience helps. But to head in to the city for a bar outing is out of character for me and the BF knows it. He sent me on my way with a "Take a cab home if you're too drunk." Wasted words as I still hate cabs. I ended up eating crow somewhat. Having waited 20 minutes for a train that wasn't coming, I had to grab a cab cross town to make up for lost time.

I was meeting up with Robocub and his great & Handsome Latino Heart Throb Eddie at the Eagle, a low key follow-up to last week's blast.

Sure, Manny Lehman was playing at the Roxy and Victor Calderone had his Evolve party at Crobar, but we… were doing… low key. Sigh. Yeah, last weekend really did it for me and I wanted to do it again, chasing that good time. I mentally reigned myself in and resolved not to go out dancing but I did keep myself open to suggestion.

Robocub and Eddie were at the Eagle when I arrived. Shortly after grabbing a beer, I was greeted from behind by someone dancing and gyrating on me. That took me back to last weekend. It was Mike with Andre. Oh, if all handsome men would greet me this way. Mike P. met up with us as well. As we wound our way around the bar, we ran into Eddie of Circle in a Square. Heh, nowadays it seems we can't go anywhere without it becoming a mini-blogger convention.

We hung out, drank beers, watched the bareback, piss pig porn on the television and listened to some decent tunes served up by Mark Cicero. We were having a good time.

Our little crowd evenutally broke up, leaving Mike P. and me. I had two more beers, well, one and a half, Mike P. let the bartender take away my half-drunken beer, so I bought a fresh one. We chatted, walked about the bar and commented more about the bareback, piss pig porn on the screen but we left by 3-3:30 before the crowd turned on each other to feed.

We walked by Crobar, testing my resolve which held. I was too drunk and numb at that point. I just wanted to get home. It was too early for Victor anyway.

And then, Mike P. took advantage of me… of my condition that is. While waiting for the train, we played Lumines on PSP and he totally kicked my ass because I was drunk. So unfair. I didn't realize which side of the screen I was playing at first. He was hosting and chose the most difficult skins, ones that I couldn't discern well. I was seeing double and unable to focus. Grrrrrr. I demand a sober rematch.

What a difference a year makes.

Posted 1/21/2005

Inspiration
This is my second blog. My first, I let die a slow death. I'd started it... and left it to rot. I was uncertain about why I was even doing it. I had misgivings about putting my life's story into words and on to the internet for all to see. Kind of made me wiggy since my first few postings, I'd laid a lot of myself out here. So naturally, I tucked my tail between my legs... said "what the hell am I doing?' and hightailed it.

I'm beleaguering the point, aren't I?

Here I am again, to give it another go, thanks to some inspiration. I've been continually entertained and touched by the few blogs that I have read. They don't know I've been reading, but in the next few weeks, I promise to make contact with them, to make them awares. I'll invite them to read my blog and hopefully they can draw as much enjoyment and inspiration from mine, as I do theirs.

Cheers,
Davis

Wow.

That tender, unsure post launched evilbuddha, a year ago.

Yes, evilbuddha is ONE!!!



Its been one heckuva year.

Thanks to all my blog inspirations (see blogroll), I can only hope to capture a spark of your magic.

Thanks to the awesome people I've met throughout the year.

A very special thanks to the wonderful friends I've made. You make this venture so worthwhile.

And lest I forget, thank you, my readers.

There'll be changes ahead but it'll more of what makes evilbuddha what it is.

Strap yourselves in and get ready for YEAR TWO.

"What's that Lassie…?"

WOOF . WOOF. WOOF.

"…the Anime Dam is broken and its spilling forth Japanese animated goodness?
AND YOU BROUGHT ME SOME!!

What'd you bring boy?"






That's great, boy. Since I just finished:



Time to fire up Forty-Two and rip these bad boys to iPod™.

WOOF . WOOF. WOOF.

What's that now, Lassie?

WOOF . WOOF. WOOF.

Jeff and Timmy are behind the barn, playing hide the salami?
Damn it to hell, Why'd I let them go see that 'Brokeback Mountain' movie?
Oh well. Boys will be boys.

WOOF. WOOF. WOOF.

No Lassie, you can't have the camcorder.

This Round to NBF.

This morning, two piles of birdseed sat 20 feet from the gate. It struck me as peculiar. NBF was slipping if he/she dumped only two meager piles for the mongrel pigeons.

I'd thwarted the last two feedings, sweeping the sidewalk. I cleaned up the seed, each time two, full dustpans worth. Dumping it into a garbage pail, I couldn't care less of the waste. As long as the food didn't find its way into the bellies of the winged rats, it wouldn't end up splattered upon nearby property.

Momentarily, I thought of sweeping up the two piles. However, as I examined more closely, more birdseed had been spread thinly and evenly across a 10 ft. sq. area. The two piles of seed marked only a perimeter.

Damn it. Was NBF aware of his/her previous thwarted attempts? making this time, harder to clean up?

Thoroughly annoyed but what could I to do? I was heading out to the gym and didn't have the time or motivation to clean up.

Reluctantly, I conceded this round to NBF.

Your "pets" will feed, for now.

I'm still at a loss to understand NBF's motivation to continue feeding the pigeons. Its obvious he/she does not wish to be caught… but that's not important now.

Solution: Eliminate the source. Out and expose the identity of NBF.

Time to assemble a hunting party.

Its apparent, he/she lives in the area. I don't have the time to stake out area and NBF is craftily, inconsistent.

I'll put out a flyer to all the homes and cars on my block, expressing my displeasure at the pigeons being feed. Nothing threatening. Perhaps, that'll reach the NBF and convince him/her to stop this fruitless venture.

If that doesn't work, we graduate to hi-tech. Maybe set up a webcam that'll capture the culprit in the act. I don't wish to go this route, but if it bears fruit with a photo of the culprit in the act, then it'll have been worth it.

For now, the flyers will do.

More news as I plan it.

Note to Self: Pace Yourself.

2006 is moving along at break neck speed. Still, a very young year, thus far, its been positive. Even better news, today I discovered its going to be my year. All dog people in the house give a big "WOOF." (Much respect to my Bear brethren I'm borrowing from.) The fact that it'll be the Chinese Year of the Dog made me very happy. I don't want to jinx it, so I'll leave it at that.

Careful now, as fast as I can go, I don't want to burn out.

I thought I'd recovered completely from Monday's activity, but it caught up to me last night, brutally. Everything caught up. My eyes were leadened and I was snoozing by 9:00PM. Simply unheard of.

I had one of those dreams bourne of sleeping too soon after eating. Trains. I always dream about trains. Standing beneath the L, I felt the whoosh and rumble of the overhead trains. A scuffle nearby, I approached. Words were blurted, startling me awake. I could analyze, but… the obvious translation is simple and telling enough that I don't want to dwell. Damn subconscious.

Yeah, the whole partying to the wee, late hours of the morning is rough. Yet oh so good. RoboCub and I have to call moratorium on discussions on how good a time we had for at least a week, after the fact. We're already looking forward to the next time. We incite each other far too easily. There's plenty happening this weekend, but we're not talking about. Are we?

The gym routine is out of whack. I'd been managing twice a day, morning and afternoon. Two workouts, too excessive? Not at all, me thinks. Cardio in the morning, treadmill or cross trainer, gets me going, heart pumping. Afternoon, hit the stacks. Wish I had a work out partner, then I could really ramp up the progress. Maybe I'll invest in a personal trainer.

Its all good but taxing. My body was getting used to it, waking early and going to sleep at my normal hour. Now the pattern is disrupted, I'm back to square one. Sigh. It'll take another few weeks to get back in the swing of things.

Why am I working out so hard? For me… and my adoring public. Hahahahahahahahahahaha… chortle… snort… whew… I kid… I kid. Just for me. Really. An investment in my body is one of the best things I could do. I hadn't resolved any of this, but I'd set it as a goal to get myself in better shape. I have the means, the time and know-how. Have to mete it with patience.

The Black Party is coming up you know. But we're not talking about that.

Psychotic Drunken Train Bitch

I've avoided posting about the omnipresent, crazy people on subways. Too easy, fodder is everywhere. However, I'm compelled as I had to deal with one this evening.

Its my own fault. Who knew that two words, "Excuse You," would incite a torrent of belligerence from a 5 ft woman.

It was a crowded train. Standing by the door, holding the pole with one hand and the other the iPod™, enjoying last week's episode of "Lost." She barreled into the train, crushing into me, her shoulder fitting neatly in my armpit.

Excuse You. *dripping with sarcasm* I said
Excuse me? she snorted incredulously.

She launched into a tirade, loudly. Hey, looks like I got a live one here.
Laying into me, loudly, she ranted about how accidents happen and its a crowded train and people step on other people's feet and it happens.Forgive the repetition, I'm merely repeating. I have edited some. 'Doesn't mean you can say 'excuse me' I responded, matter of factly. She stated, loudly, I should get over it and this happens. Stating, loudly again, "I've had a really bad day and I don't need this shit."

She also said, guess how? loudly? yes, "I didn't have to be a tough guy… and shit."

Me? A tough guy? HA. Well, I could be. I was fairly stoic while she made a fool out of herself. I did shoot back with pithy, little quips and sarcastic snipes.


Louder makes you right, huh? I queried. This elicited a howler monkey-like response.

Sometime after I first looked down at her anger wrung face as she spat her vitriol, I was struck by the pungent scent of alcohol. A quick, cursory search, I realized the stank was coming from her. Pissed at 7:15, I really know how to pick em.

Still, I maintained an even-toned voice, inciting her to scream some more. Essentially, the other people on the train not in the direct vicinity, could only hear her manic screaming.

You don't know what I can do. She threaten.

At this point, I removed my iPod™, putting it safely away, in an inside jacket pocket.

I swear, she flinched and jumped at my innocuous action.

What're you going to do? She screamed.

This time… I looked at her incredulously.

I may have been playing the tough guy, but I'm a principled man… and gay. I would never have struck her, even if she was a psychotic, drunken, train bitch. Maybe she suddenly realized that I could be someone having a much worse day and ARMED. I could blow her sorry ass away. Alas firearms aren't my thing and even if they were, too many witnesses. I wasn't particular moved to action either. Shortly before she threatened "you don't know what I can do," I realized the 6 ft. tall knucklehead standing behind her, was her companion. He was a classy thing, snacking on sunflower seeds and throwing shells to the train floor. Good catch. You two should hold on to each other.

No. Any physical action would have been reprehensible. Too many people. I would have had to go balls out bananas to take him down. They're would have been too many innocent caught in the fray.

Regardless, she shirked away, removing herself from my arm's distance, muttering something, more to save face than directed at me. Letting her get the last word, I let the argument die.

This happened in the span of two train stops, the second being mine.

I locked and loaded one last retort, only to be used if she sniped as I left.

It remains in the chamber.

Rats.

Alegria MLK 2006

A timely post for a change.

Having managed to rest and refuel some, I can definitely say I'm basking in the afterglow of a fantastic night of dancing. In the company of Robocub & Eddie, Mike & Andre, Brad of Oh Really, friend Hugh, and a couple thousand homos, I celebrated MLK's birthday with Alegria at Crobar. We (the previous named group, not thousands of homos), met up at Robocub/Eddie's before heading to Crobar about 1:00AM.

When we arrived, the main floor was a heaving mass of bodies. Typical circuit party. Still, I can't understand why you have people with flailing elbows and the assumption that it's okay to rub their sweaty, stubbly back on you. Eeeww. It was too early and I wasn't in the right head for that yet. The gang and I rose above it, into the VIP area. They kindly snuck me in. Robocub smooth-talked the velvet rope guy. Strange conversation, guy said he wasn't a crackhead. Ok. Anyhow, I was crashing but I didn't complain. Robocub, Eddie and Hugh were generous in getting me water/drinks. There was room to move too.

Oh. Friend Frank. He said he showed up around 5:00AM. However, I did not run into him till about 8 or 9AM. Shrug. He was on the main floor, I was in VIP. Remember? Free drinks, room to move. I felt guilty but… no complaints.

What am i missing? Oh yes, the music. Ralphi Rosario and Abel were both manning the decks for this edition of Alegria. The music was tribal, thumpy music. There were moments of intense, insane energy (a hard driving bassline gets me everytime) and of ho-hum repetitive beats (pots and pans, a kettle and a crock). There was a drum performance on these huge drums on stage. Very cool. Overall… a good sound and lots of fun to dance to.

By late morning… the sound dipped in and out of relentless and twirly. I was running on fumes by then, lack of proper sleep and exhausted energy reserves. I reluctantly called it a day at 10:00AM.

I had a great time. It certainly helps with good company. Hope to do it again and soon. :)

Homo Bar Crawl

Also known as, "The Search for Cute Gay NYC."

Mr. O and I hit the town for a few, after work drinks.

The bars:

G Lounge - One bartender was über-handsome with inked big arms, a fit body, nice ass and boyish man face. I imagined myself hanging from his arms. The crowd - meh. No one took my breath away. I looked for the diamond in the rough and even then I was disappointed. 2 Drinks.

Elmo - Way too crowded but we should have gone in for a nosh. Did not eat which may not have been the wisest course of action.

GYM - Immediately hit with the humid, musky scent of a locker room when we walked it. Not cute. Neither was the crowd. 1 Drink.

Barracuda - This is the place to go if you weren't looking for a crowd. E-M-P-T-Y.
1 Drink

Secret - Private Party. We should have crashed.

The Eagle - The downstairs bar was empty. Everyone must have been on the upper floors, but we couldn't join. Mr. O's white sneakers were not proper dress code. 1 Drink.

The Slide - The few times I've been to The Slide, it was crowded with East Village kids. Last night, empty. The last drink.

Our quest for cute, gay NYC came up empty like the bars we went to. Don't people go out on Thursday nights anymore? Or am I missing the hot spots? I need to ask Richard. His blog is a boy magnet and he seems to know where the boys are.

Well… Mr. O and I had fun catching up.

The train ride home was uneventful. Save for the fact that in my drunken stupor, I'd gotten off a train I needed to stay on. My alcohol addled mind had misinterpreted the conductor's announcements. Fun. Not! It meant I had to focus on staying awake for another 20 minutes.

Home at 2:30AM. After showering, immediately to bed. Greeted by the BF with "You stink of alcohol."

zzZzzzZzzz

Fin.

Ack!

I've left my reader(s) with only my "Office Politics" too long, a depressing post to say the least. In retrospect, not so depressing. I'll explain in a better, more thought out post.

I ask for your forgiveness, understanding and patience (again). Life moves along and blogging takes a backseat. Fear not, all the nonsense and shenanigans and random thoughts are being duly recorded in my noggin for blogging. Noggin for bloggin, I made a rhyme!

So, back to the salt mines for a bit. I shall return with a vengenace.

In the meanwhile, let me point you to a blog I've been enjoying.

Danny Choo
He's got a great looking site. He watches anime, a sci-fi fan and digs cool toys/gadgets. He'd be me if not for the being straight, married and living in Japan thing.

Danny also does an awesome job of building Gundam models, for which his blog is a great resource. I'm dipping my toe in the pool of assembling these models. So, his advice is very useful/helpful.

Office Politics…

…makes me ill.

Ugh.

Manager took co-worker and me aside to tell us a few things, off the record. Doesn't involve us directly, but the nonsense does have impact on us.

It stresses me so. A tightness in my chest, I feel like a vice clamped down around my heart, figuratively and literally. It's been a long time since I've had this feeling, but I don't like it anymore now.

I don't know why people do it. Well, I do know why, it's the only way some people can get ahead rather than based on their personal merits. Perhaps it's how some people can conscientiously stomach it that troubles me most. The manipulation, obvious pandering and brown nosing, I can't understand how some people fall for it either. Sigh. Advertising. Stroke an ego, you'll get whatever you want. Guess it comes with the territory.

My righteousness, my sense of justice cries out in pain.

All a geek wants…

…is for everyone to appreciate what they appreciate and acknowledge what they know.



See the teaser trailer for 5-25-77

Trailer 2 here.

UPDATE: Teaser links died. Sorry. :(

I don't get Owen Wilson.

Seriously, I don't. It's the nose. I can't get past it. It's distracting. Am I being shallow? Perhaps his goofy, laidback personality endears him to people, they can see past the nose. His drippy, puppy dog face, makes my eyes roll.

I don't hear many people saying he's handsome and certainly don't hear people saying he's a great actor. Not that I go out on to the street, taking a poll on Owen Wilson. Not losing sleep over it.

Regardless, I tend to avoid his films.
I Spy? Shudder.
Starsky & Hutch? Bleech!!
Did I see them? Perish the thought!!
He should stay away from television rehashes.

Unfortunately, he's a popular choice to fill out a cast, making it impossible to avoid him altogether. I did take great joy when his character in Armageddon and The Haunting bit it.

Why do I go on about Owen Wilson?
Well, in spite of him, I picked up and watched Wedding Crashers yesterday.



While Owen Wilson's character did not bite the big one, it was an enjoyable, funny film nonetheless. Largely in part to Vince Vaughn, who does not annoy me and is funny. And Bradley Cooper who, in my opinion, is gosh darn hot!!!



Playing a turn as Zack "Sack" Lodge, a blue-blood, knuckle-headed brute, Bradley with short-cropped hair (yum!) was looking beefy. He definitely commanded my attention when he was on screen.

Wedding Crashers had a well-rounded cast with Christopher Walken (always an evilBuddha favorite) and Rachel McAdams. It was good to see her again but she was much better playing a bitch in Mean Girls.

I nearly forgot, Jane Seymour, yes Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, was hilarious, too.

Wedding Crashers, I recommend it for a good laugh (in spite of Owen Wilson.)

Also picked up:

Last Light

Momentary Alignment

NYE, BF got wasted. I drove home.

As I neared the house, I noticed the trip meter read 999.8 miles and the odometer read 7998.8 miles. With the car stopped and safely parked in the driveway, the trip meter read 1000 miles and the odometer 8000 miles exactly.

Whoa.

So this is New Year's day?

To start, let me say "Happy New Year."

Did everyone have a good celebration? Good. My best to you all.

Me? NYE was spent out in an outer borough, Staten Island for those that care. We were thrilled to bring such a tumultuous year to a close. 2005 will go down in infamy. Nothing off beat to report, just good food, some drink and the company of close friends.

New Year's day was cold, but not too cold for an NYC winter day. Somewhat bleak. On the whole, a nice day just to BE.

I've been thoughtful on the general nuances of today, New Year's day. This was the first time in many years that after the ball dropped, I didn't immediately tear out of the company of the BF, to a club in the city where I'd dance the morning away into the afternoon.

I'd spared myself the exorbitant cost of partying on NYE, which is never commensurate to the experience. Plunking down $60 or more for the admission only, I couldn't stomach.

Junior at the Roxy? @$75 a head? Um… That's asking too much for the loathsome Roxy. Not for me. I'm sure there was no lack of takers. I had a good time last year but only marginally so. I'd had to contend with "when tweaked gayasians attack." I was fresh chum in the water. Not cute. The only memorable bit that came out of the event, happened after the fact. *evil grin*

Victor at Crobar? Hmmm… no, not him either, I'm afraid. HIs parties are too mixed, slanting more to the straight crowd, which I have less tolerance for, of late. At least with boy parties, I have more eye candy and less mammary roadblocks to contend with. They do wield them like weapons.

Any other venue promised to be a T&A/roid boy event and all had a running cost of, at least, $100 per head. Goodness! I'll have none of that.

Nope, there was no clubbing to bring in the new year. No late morning partying and carousing. Whereupon returning home, I'd sleep some, waking to snog with the BF and then spend the rest of the day doing something the BF has insisted we do, being too tired to really object and mentally disconnected.

So with my uncommon coherence, I've been reflective. I found it not all too objectionable, satisfying even. Still, a part of me is saddened with no NYE booty shaking but it'll pass. I'm saving my energy up for MLK weekend.

What didn't change, we did what the BF wanted. We visited with his brother's family in Staten Island. Yes, Staten Island, again. Can't get enough of that island.

A quiet afternoon, I set up and configure the BF's brother's wireless router, a purely selfish act. Now, whenever we hang out, I'll have my laptop and can kill time surfing. Joy. In the process, I put the BF's nephew's, little J's PSP on the wireless network as well. We were fearful that while he might not traipse around questionable websites, his sex starved neighbor friends would. Kids will be kids. Played poker. FYI, I let her win. Also watched the remastered Superman on cable, nice and clean like you've never seen it before.

More food was consumed. Ugh. Done with holidays. Done with food. It's going to be salads for a while.