Hooooooooooot Dog!

From: Short Irritated Jew
Date: Wed, Mar 24, 2010 at 6:39 PM
Subject: it happened again
To: The Asian Sensation

Guess who got their ass poked by an ethnic erection again? I DID.
Yeah.
JOY.

Going through that alone was terrible.
He was old and possibly drunk/high and homeless to make it even better.

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A few months ago, Short Irritated Jew (SIJ) and I were getting on the train for work.  Per usual, the CTA was out to fuck us so we were crammed into the brown line like Korean mothers in a St. John outlet store.  Right before the doors shut, a short, dirty, Hispanic man shoved in behind me.  I have nothing against short, dirty, Hispanic men as I hope to marry one one day; that is just the most accurate way to describe him.

He was behind me and I half looked around just because he was unnecessarily crammed up into my back.  The train was too packed for me to take a full look around but I did see his hand gripping the rail and I noticed his thumb was filthy, flat and triangular shaped- like it had gotten run over.  This man was just all kinds of sexy.

We rode along for a bit and then a song came to mind.  Next's "Too Close."  Step back your standing kind of close, I feel a little poke coming through...on you.  This dirty motherfucker's ranging hard on was hot dogging my ass.  Unless this is Berlin (the club, not the country), this shit is inapproprate behavior for 7:40am and he have not even bought me a fucking drink yet!

I would like to say that I turned around and decked him but you know, Lifetime movies are far more true to life than one realizes.  I would totally be the girl crying in the shower, holding herself, after getting raped.  After realizing that it was most certainly not his morning banana in his pocket, I just stood there, paralyzed for a few seconds.  Actually, my first instinct was to perch my ass out a little but then I realized I  was no longer on a high school camping trip, pretending to be passed out next to the hot senior who's slutty girlfriend didn't come along because her raging eat disorder kept her from any event that involved s'mores and twizzlers.  The bitch about anorexia is that  on one hand, it helps you get a boyfriend because you are so hot and thin but on the other hand, you lose them to whores that eat because they have more of an ass to perch out, you know?

So anyhow, I shoved my huge bag behind me to create some space between my ass and his hard, dirty cock.  It's amazing how in the throws of passion, an erection seems to last but a nanosecond but from the Armitage stop to the Chicago stop, it's the boner that just won't quit.  He must have noticed that I was not having any of it because he moved onto his new victim, SIJ.  He shifted over a bit and although she is my friend, fuck it, better it be her ass than mine.  I was wearing a silk dress and she was wearing jeans.  We all know what a bitch cum is to get off silk!  Honestly, I felt so guilty and dirty that I couldn't even look at her.

SIJ:  Um, when we get off, I have to tell you something...
Me:  Yeah, I think I already know what it is.
SIJ:  What do I do?
Me:  Just clench your ass and hope for the best.

At Merchandise Mart, about half our train got off (hopefully, the dirty motherfucker didn't) and SIJ and I scrambled to get as far away from him as possible.

Me:  Was that dude's boner digging into your ass?
SIJ:  No, I'm so much shorter than you it was digging into my side and practically locking me into place in the corner.

You know, writing this kind of depresses me.  It's been such a tragically long time since my ass has been hot dogged.  :(

A few weeks later, I was on the brown line to work again and I saw a filthy, flat triangular thumb gripping the rail.  I stuck my ass out a little...just in case.

What else would I name my wireless connection?

Trannylicious!

I like to dress up when I go out. Monday through Friday, I dress like a conservative librarian at work and on the weekends, I like to wear a cunt scraping dress, heavy eyeliner and heels so high I have to genuflect a bit so I don't actually touch Jesus in heaven.

One evening I was going to meet my friend Dave for dinner. We were going to a restaurant in Wicker Park and because it was a Friday night, i was wearing a tight black miniskirt with fishnets, heels and a black satin jacket...think Balmain chic before that shit was totally overplayed (every straight man just went to espn.com). I thought I looked fuckable but who knew that I was to receive the greatest compliment any straight girl could ever hope to receive?

I was standing at a street corner (I'd tell you which ones but I'm Asian and female, therefore, it's a miracle I knew what hood I was in), waiting for the crosswalk to turn green when a car pulled up.

"Hey girl, hey. Gurl!!! Hey..."

The voice was male...ish. As a female who sometimes dresses like I got done right and put away still wet, I've learned that it's best to not make eye contact so I clutched my YSL satchel closer to my chest and looked straight ahead.

"Honey! Baby girl. Hey. GURL, HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!"

So I looked.

A womMAN looked at me. She was hanging out the window. She had a full face of makeup- like, that thick MAC base and you know that shit was MAC. Trannies buy cheap ass Forever 21 clothes but bitches don't scrimp on the face paint! She had fake eyelashes, blush, eyeliner to the extreme and a fucking jawline that could cut glass. Her crowning glory was her synthetic blond wig that would surly go up in a cloud of smoke if I lit a cigarette even a continent away from her.

Basically, she was everything I've ever aspired to be.

I was standing with my back toward the car and when I looked around at her, she sort of looked puzzled and then she said, "OH, YOU ARE A REAL GIRL! Oh...Um..."

The light turned green and the car sped off. As it rounded the corner, I heard her yell, "I'm sorry, baby. You're beautifuuuuuuuuuuuulllllllll..."

Sorry? What is there to be sorry about? A tranny mistook me for a tranny! It's as though Naomi Campbell herself told me my walk was fierce. Sure, some women might take this as a put down but I don't. You know you've made it in life when you have in-unit laundry and get mistaken for a tranny by a tranny. I'm still waiting for the in-unit laundry but my other dream has come true!

subject: Umm

Have I ever told you about the time a random gay man crawled into my bed and slept next to me? The thing is, the explanation doesn't make the story make more sense so here is the email my tall gay roommate sent me while the random gay dude was cuddling me with his flaccid dick resting on my leg:

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from: TGR
to: The Asian Sensation
date Sun, Oct 5, 2008 at 6:51 AM
subject: Umm


I'm sorry that it is 6:49 am and I cannot get the naked man who is sleeping in your bed to GET UP AND GET OUT OF YOUR BED. I'm sorry that you have to put up with this and I really do not know how to rectify this situation. So I'm apologizing now before the morning because I'm pretty exasperated and unsure of how to proceed. I'm mean... how do I get the naked, belligerent man out of your bed? I DON'T KNOW??? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? IS THIS THE TWILIGHT ZONE?!!!!?????

I love you. Thank you for your humor and your patience.

Love TGR.

Sorry.

Sorry again.

Yikes.

Oh brother.

-TGR

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No, for realzies, THIS SHIT DOESN'T HAPPEN TO OTHER PEOPLE.

Bag of Hair

Hello 2010!

And fuck you.

So I decided to start blogging and when I entered blogger.com, I saw I already had started one! Apparently, I've not had much to say in 2 years.

So on to 2010. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MY YEAR. It really was. I felt the internal tides of change and all that jazz. And then the shit hit the proverbial fan...in every which way. But alas, it must get better, right? RIGHT?!?!?

But one thing I realized fully is that I have no creative outlet and I have shit to say...maybe to no one but myself but I'm still going to say it- and LOUDLY. That is my style.

My friend has this saying, "bag of hair." Bag of hair is a metaphor for your internal shit...the hidden stuff you need to sort out. This is because Jill is a white girl from the South side with a weave. What? Don't hate, girl's got thin hair! I have a fat stomach, she gotz a weave, i gotz my spanx! So when she comes over to our house to get ready, she literally has a bag of hair. One day, she as like, "Uh...the only weird thing about like, staying at a guy's place or hooking up with him is like, asking, 'do you have a plastic baggie....you know...for my hair?'" Personally, I think if the only shit you have hiding is a bag of hair, you are nearly perfectly sane. I don't even know what my bag of hair is but I'm going to get closer to finding it in 2010!

Happy new years, skanks. And honestly, if you've been having a good one, a little fuck you because I'm jealous and admittedly petty.

Best joke ever!

This joke is from my friend, Dr. FF (Foot Fag- he's a foot surgeon and gay):

Joke: What did one tampon say to the other tampon?

Punchline: Nothing. They were both stuck up cunts.

Well, I laughed!