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| Hey all.
Mad things been going on...mainly the White Sox and this herpie looking thing growing on my lip. Well, to start off. May and I are engaged. THAT'S RIGHT I said Engaged. Therefore as the boys and a few farm animals shed the "I will never be with Michael" tears, I will proceed to tell how I rico suaved May.
First let me set the mood for you all. The setting was at this park with a gazebo. There is a large field with a small paved "road" surrounding it. At the top of this field and where the road connects is this white, quaint gazebo. The weather was warm with a nice cool breeze (considering the fact that 2 hours before it had just poured down rain.) It was near dusk and the sky had a nice and colorful design to it. The setting was perfect and I was about to plunge into the most exciting moment of my life.
What I did was take Polaroid pictures, you kow the ones that comes right out of the camera, with me doing action shots. The first pictures was just me, the next is me walking, the next with me reaching into my pocket, and the next pulling out the ring box etc. The last pictures was with me on my knees holding out the opened ring box. On the bottom of the pictures it spelled out WILL YOU MARRY ME? I tied a string connecting from a large tree to the top of the gazebo. I attached each picture onto the string with a candle burning under each one. The last picture was hanging on a candle that was hanging from the top of the gazebo. Therefore, May would have to walk up this walkway of candles looking at the pictures and by the end I would be in the candle filled gazebo on my knees. I also filled the gazebo with candles with champagne on ice and a single long stemmed rose.
Let me explain this carefully. I am not a romantic and, honest, probably never will be. However, I went out of my way to make this evening special for May and went the extra mile to create the perfect atmosphere. You know how she reacted? She laughed. That's right, I said, she laughed. Not the "oh, how romantic soft laugh" but the oh, man, you are a fool laugh. Kinda of hurt my feelings. Anyways, the rest, as they say, is history. She said yes and she will have to spend the rest of her life handling my stupid, idiotic, just plain dumb comments. Sucks to be her.
Just kidding. I asked her in a Taco Bell.
If you want to know the story give May a call.
Below is the letter I wrote to May's parents. A little long and a bit gross, read at your own risk.
May 17, 2005
Mr. and Mrs. Yang:
Your daughter and I have been known as “May and Michael” for close to 5 years now. As you are reading this letter, you are probably thinking that this letter has been a long ways coming, and the next logical step for us as a couple would be to get married. I want you to know, however, that it is not something I think in my head as logical or “the right thing to do” but that marrying your daughter has been something I have dreamed about for the last five years of my life. I know her and love her for the person that she is. I do not consider May just my girlfriend; she IS my best friend as well. I know that sounds corny and a bit cliché, but that is how it is. I understand that the written word may not come close to what I feel in my heart for May, but nevertheless, here is my futile attempt to show you my feelings for your youngest daughter.
I’m not going to lie and tell you that it was love at first sight. It wasn’t. This isn’t some fairy tale story in which I see May across the room and just instantly fall in love with her. It was nothing like that. We were good friends first, then came the attraction. We prayed and praised together and encouraged each other towards the goal of being closer to Jesus. It was a great time. The electricity and chemistry between us was evident, and back then we so desperately wanted to spend every moment of every day together. Some may say the “honeymoon” feeling does not last forever – I disagree. Nothing has changed since 5 years ago when we first dated – we STILL desperately want to spend every moment of every day together.
People say that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and to be honest, to us, we have found beauty within each other. I’m not saying our relationship is without its faults. I will be the first to admit that I have failed May during our relationship. Hence, that is one of the many reasons why I love your daughter. She makes me a better person. Everyone would agree that May is the kind, sweet compliment to my sarcastic, abrasive self. She encourages me to strive to be the best I can be. I have told her that she “shouldn’t try and change me,” but honestly, I know she wants to change me because she sees that I can be so much more then I currently am – she may be the only person who sees that potential in me. Though times I may not deserve it, May always has a warm embrace and kiss for me. I remember May use to quote the Apostle Paul and tell me, “I thank God every time I think of you;” and to you guys, I would like to say, “I know God loves me every time I think of May.”
To quote a 4-year-old child, “I know mommy loves daddy because she always gives him the best piece of meat.” This statement basically sums up our relationship. May always gives the best of herself to me. From her patience in letting me pout over my anger to her warm way of always asking me if I’m hungry; she has sacrificed herself for my welfare. I know I don’t always show it but I truly do love your daughter and want the best for her. I do cherish everyday I spent with May. So, here is my promise to you, I will ALWAYS love your daughter and “give her the best piece of meat.”
As you guys already know, I’m not a romantic. I don’t like public displays of affection and I really don’t like telling people about my personal life. But, since May is a romantic at heart I will oblige and submit to the romanticism of our relationship. As you remember, we were not the best looking couple when we first dated. I must admit, I still refuse to look at older pictures of May and I. Nevertheless, the way she looked, acted, and spoke back then made my heart pound and palms sweat. Since then, May has matured into a beautiful, kind, and generous woman we all know today, but to me, I will always remember her as a over energized freshman who I use to hang out. I fell in love with May back then and my love continues to grow for her now. I know this aspect of our relationship may not be the thing you were looking for when you ask for a letter, but I just wanted to tell you that May and I have fallen in love years back and our love is stronger today then ever. She always has been the one for me and she always will be.
Many people say that marriage is a responsibility and commitment. Therefore, I promise that I will be responsible for May’s well being and be committed to May to always be there for her. I am not taking marriage lightly. I understand the importance of marriage in the eyes of God. I will take May as my wife “…till death do us part.” I love your daughter.
With that said, I would like to formally ask your permission for May’s hand in marriage.
I hope this letter shows you just a little bit of how I feel for your daughter and what we have gone through as a couple. Remember, I may not be the nicest or the most welcoming, but I will always be there for your daughter, and as her parents, there for you.
Michael Z. Lee | | |
| Hey all,
Hope this email finds you all well. Have not really updated you guys on what is happening in my life. SO HERE GOES!!!! Nothing much...just work and sex...but not really the sex. Yup, got my degrees, found a job, have a girl I've been seeing for 4 years...man, my life sucks! To tell you how badly my life sucks right now let me first explain a few aspects of my life....
1. My girlfriend is living with 2 males. Suffice it to say it gets pretty interesting whenever I go there and find one specific roommate sitting in my girl's room sniffing her panties. More interesting is the fact that its the exact same panties I was wearing the day before.
2. I'm still working at a crappy bar in which I have to constently remind my co-workers that "Yes, although I have full time employment, I still need to be working in this crap hole." Plus, after 2 years working as a bartender, I only know how to make a rum and coke....ummm, that's just rum and some cola right?
3. I'm honestly getting paid like $8.50 an hour at my full time employment - the bright side is that I'm helping Senior Citizens...sorta...I don't know...maybe not.
4. My girlfriend just came back from Jamacia and was kind enough to mention to me (around 10 times) that she was getting picked up all over the place and that she is soooo beautiful....and then proceeded to make fun of my bushy eyebrows and big nose....that comment about my penis is way out of line may yang!...its the motion of the oceans baby...not the size........
5. My life consist of going to work, coming home and watching tv...I can't even look at porn or mess around with May because we are trying to "save it till marriage - something I do agree with." However, taking a step back and examing my life, I feel that Yes, my life currently does suck.
Not to say my life is lacking blessings. Not at all, I got a awsome God who continues to show me grace and love. I have a beautiful (self proclaimed) girlfriend who treats me better then I deserve. I have a job. My family is always there...nagging, but its all good.
Therefore I have decided to put my social work career on hold and become a ranway model. Yes, although I may not have the looks, the body, the attitude, or the sex appeal...I can do anything I put my mind to. Thanks social work classes...man, that was the best $65,000 I spent in my life....giving me the strength to follow my dreams into becoming a male strip...ummm, model. Moving on, I think I can go ahead and try to work the Asian crowd. I can be like Tyson Breckford, except I will be a foot shorter, 150 pounds lighter, about 98% less attractive...wait, why don't I just go ahead and tell you what we do have in common...ummm, wait a minute...YES!...we are both Asian - but not really, he is only like 1/4 asian. I'm the worst. I guess I'll just go ahead and continue working at my job. Man, it would have been cool to be Derek Zoolander though...but instead of "blue steel" I'll have my "praying mantis" stance.
Alright, this email sucked. Sorry. Nothing much is happening. Hit me back and let me know what's going on with you.
http://gprime.net/video.php/napoleontopten
Hit up this site...funny this..."Ligers are like my favorite animal...known for their magical powers"
Play on playas
Michael | | |
| Well I guess I should update too, since this is also my(may) site. This goes out for all those "motor mouths" and those candid momments we all have in our own respectful homes.
So it was another normal day at my chicago condo, where I spent the morning checking email, cleaning, and listening to music. Around 11 was about time for my usual morning number two. While doing my business I was thinking about that song I was just listening to "homesick" by mercy me. For those who know the song its a very emotional song. So I started to sing it VERY LOUDLY and getting really into it. Anyways I finish my business and head straight to me my computer and see the lastest aim message and it was from my roommate iming from work saying "I did not know we had a Christina Aguilera in our home." Hmmm. I didn't get it at first, until it dawned on me that he was in his room the whole time working from home! So I will be hiding in my closet if anyone is lookin for me.
Happy Holidays. Peace | | |
| Hey guys,
Since Bush won, I've just been in a big funk. Thinking about that
moran just makes me want to end my life because he will probably ruin
it in the next 4 years. On a brighter note, here is a story I wrote
to make myself feel better:
His name was Beauford. I met him in the summer of 1978 when I was
guiding in Alaska.
I liked him from the start, and in his eyes I could see a genuine love
for the wilderness around us. As we introduced ourselves and shook
hands, I thought I may have seen a faint tear fall quickly down his
aged face. What that meant, I did not know, but it was time to go
fishing and I quickly dismissed it.
Savage, two-foot-long rainbow trout were hitting mouse imitations with
a vengeance on the Toagnak River. I suggested we go there, just as
all the other guides were doing.
But Beauford grabbed my arm gently and looked at me with all
seriousness. "I want to go to the Ninilchik, in particular, the place
where Quartz Creek runs into it."
I knew the place, having fished the Ninilchik a few times earlier in
the season. The trout were smaller there, and not very numerous. I
started to again suggest the Toagnak, but caught myself at the last
moment. We would go where he wanted to go.
So we fished the Ninilchik at the deep, gentle-flowing pool created by
tiny Quartz Creek. I rigged a red and green streamer fly for Beauford
to try and could not help but marvel at the incredible beauty of the
place. I took a few pictures of Beauford fishing, wondering how the
man had known about this particular spot.
Beauford let out a shout of joy about then, and I could see the rod
dipping heavily with the strain of a fish. My guest praised the fish
for every leap it made. Every strong surge was accompanied by words
of encouragement from its captor. It was almost as if Beauford wanted
the fish to fight itself free. Finally, I gently lifted the rainbow
from the water, quickly shook the hook free and held the fish up for
Beauford to admire.
"Isn't that the finest trout you have ever seen?" Beauford said breathlessly.
I nodded dumbly. In truth, the Toagnak held rainbows that would eat
this one for breakfast and look for more. But I could not ruin this
moment for my elated guest, so I pointed out the intricate spots and
incredibly diverse coloring of the native trout.
We released him and Beauford just stood there with this grand smile on
his face for a long time. He was staring at a large flat rock across
the river.
"Do you see that rock over there?" Beauford asked.
I nodded. Often I had thought to cross the river and fish from it,
for it would make a fine platform for casting.
"Anything in particular about it you've noticed?" he queried.
I shrugged, mentioning it was probably the best seat on the river
since there was always a shadow lying across half of it.
Beauford just smiled.
We fished the same spot on the Ninilchik for all five days of
Beauford's stay. We caught fewer fish than any of the other parties,
but Beauford didn't seem to mind at all.
On the last day he told me he was going to wade across the river and
sit on the big flat rock he had admired every day. I got up to go
with him, knowing the slippery rocks could be treacherous.
But Beauford stopped me. "I would like to be alone for an hour or
so." In his eyes I could see that same firmness and intensity that
had been there when he first told me we would fish the Ninilchik.
I should not have done it, a guide should never leave a client alone
in the Alaskan wilds. There are bears, slippery rocks, strong
currents - a hundred ways to get in trouble. But I let him go,
promising him I would come for him in an hour.
Beauford came to fish with me every year after that first trip,
sometimes twice a year. Each time, we would fish the same place on
the Ninilchik River, each time Beauford showed that same excitement
when he would catch a trout, and each time he would want to be alone
for a while, sitting on the rock he had come to so dearly love.
I asked him about it a few times over the years, but Beauford would
only smile. "Someday you will see it as I see it, Mike, and then you
will understand."
Finally the year arrived when Beauford was not on our list, and I
discovered that he would not be coming up this year. I sent him a
letter, worried that something might be wrong.
A few weeks later, I received a reply:
Dear Mike,
The years have finally caught up with me, as they do
to all men eventually. My days grow shorter and shorter
and it gets harder to wake up each morning. I am not
sorry, I have lived long enough in this world and I am
ready to go on. My only regret is that I will not be
able to go fishing with you anymore. Those were good
times, Mike, and I want you to know that I will always be
thankful for those days on the river.
Before I go, there is something else I want to tell
you. I have never spoken of this before, but the time
has come for you to know.
I lost my wife two years before I first came up to
fish with you, Mike. There was a car accident late one
night and the Lord took her from me. But we had a few
moments together before her life faded, and she said she
would always be at our special place on the Ninilchik
River. We used to go there when we were younger, Mike,
and she would sit on the flat rock and watch me fish.
Remember that shadow you said you saw on that rock?
Next time you're there, try to find out what makes that
shadow. You won't find a source. That is my Rachel, and
she still sits there, waiting for me.
Now you know why I have such a love for that place.
Goodbye my friend,
Beauford
Beauford passed away before I received his letter.
I made a trip to the Ninilchik soon after. I pictured my friend
effortlessly casting into the swirling waters, his thrilled laugh when
he hooked a trout and the way he looked at the flat rock on the other
side of the river.
I looked myself, remembering what he had told me in his letter. This
time I could make out the image of a young woman sitting there on the
rock, and I knew it was her, Beauford's Rachel.
I would never again see that silhouette on the rock as just a shadow.
Now there were two.
Just kidding. I really didn't write that. I just feel for Beauford.
His love for his wife is so strong that he waited years to die just so
he can sit on some damn rock with his dead wife. Now that's love my
friends. If it was me, you probably find me at Hooters trying to get
get on some blond with big fake boobs. Just kidding - I love you May.
By the way, your boobs are fine....great some might even say.
Ahhhh, not in the mood for stupid...ummm, i mean quality writing.
Bush blows - get ready middle/working class. Here comes the tax
raise. Stupid Bush.
Play on Playas
| | |
| Hey all,
Thought I'll go ahead and drop another email to my ever so faithful
email followers. Out of the 15 or so people who got my "coming out"
email, only a handful responded. Thanks a bunch "friends." However,
never fear, rejection and shame never stopped me from furthering
embarrassing myself some more. Just ask all the girls (and a few
guys) that I have sexually harassed. I rather not discuss it through
email because there are still some open cases within Illinois and the
boarding states. Therefore, I digress. Moving on, some may think
living at home with one's parents is somewhat a disgrace to someone
with a masters degree. I disagree whole heartedly. First off, its
full of surprises. Take the other day for example; I went home a
little late from work and, being a nice son and all, I decided to do
it quietly because of the fact that my mother has to be up around
4:30am for work. I ever so quietly tip toed my way through the front
door, across the squeakily floor and stairs, and made it to my door.
At last my aching toes will have some sweet sweet relief in my own
room. Since I am paying my mother for rent, one would figure that my
room would be free of middle aged Asian men. I think thats a fair
assumption to make in my situation. I was wrong. Excuse that side
bar comment. Anyways, since I worked a long hard day and I just
wanted to go to bed, I proceeded to stripe down to my boxers and jump
on my bed. When I felt that warm body underneath me, I thought, "oh
my goodness, my mother finally took the hint i've been dropping for
months and got me one of those warm bodied blow up dolls (you know the
one in the naughty naughty nurse outfit and the one with the big
soft.......). Ummmm...what, wait a minute, where was I? Anyways,
once again, I was pr oven wrong. As I went in to cop a feel, my hand
was telling me that the boob was a little small and a bit hairy, but a
boob non the less. However, my nose was screaming, "Where the hell is
the TigerBalm smell coming from?" I jumped out of bed and sprinted to
the light switch and turned it on. What I found was far away from my
fantasy of seeing William Huang half naked in my bed. This man was
fully clothed and sings surprisingly well; but thats another story for
another time. After screaming like a little girl for a few minutes
and soiling myself, I told that "intruder" that I needed to take a
massive poop and raping me now is probably not the best idea. This
intruder looked at me and said in Chinese, "Oh, you must be Lily's
son, come, we can share the bed together." Though tempting, I figured
the dorm sized bed would be a tad small for two grown men. Finally my
mother woke up and came into my/the intruder's room. She nonchalantly
told me that she gave my room to this man from China because he was
the new hire in her restaurant. I ask politely why did she give away
my room. Since she was a little tired, she fiestily told me that he
lived an hour away and this is earlier then picking him up and
dropping him off. By this time, I too was tired and getting upset,
and I replied, "No mother, why is this guy in the room I paid for and,
no offense intruder, kind of smelled and greased up my pillow and
blanket with his John Travolta from the motion picture Grease
hairstyle. My mother then went on this mad rant about how she works
so hard to support 3 children and that we are all ungrateful bastards.
Actually, I'm not even sure what she said because she was quite
excited and she spoke Chinese way too fast for me to follow;
therefore, I just basically gather from her body language and how much
spit was coming out of her mouth when she yelled. I ended up sleeping
on the coach. The funny thing is, my younger brother's room is vacant
because he is away at college and my mother still thought it was the
smarter idea to place the intruder, I'm sorry - Mr. Wang, in the
bedroom in which I'm paying rent and where all my stuff is. Suffice
it to say that it got pretty embarrassing the next morning when I went
into my/his bedroom to get changed and saw that he was trying to
figure out a way to calm his morning woody without having to get out
of my bed. More embarrassing was the 4th straight day I walked in on
him (on purpose). Anywho, after letting my mother calm down, I ask
her why she just didn't give Mr. Wang my brother's room. The answer
my friends is that, "Well, he comes back on weekends." Considering
the fact that I live there the whole week, one might be confused on
the logic to that one. I, on the other hand, just figured that she
just loved my brother more then me. Its ok my friends, you don't need
to feel sorry for me because I'm making more money then my brother
will ever see in his lifetime. Do you know how much I make a week.
$195.00 baby! And that in US currency! Do you know how much .99
cent double burgers at MacDonald I can get with that? Yup, May, you
can sure be super sizing now.
Well, my friends, the disclaimer is that I know my mother really loves
me....though third best, but still, love nonetheless. Anyways, hit
this email back and make me feel good when I turn on my gmail account
and have emails I can read....that way the gay porn sites can get a
rest...plus, I think my boss is getting sick of all the pop up viruses
from porn sites that I'm letting into our computer network. Till
then,
Play on Playas!
Michael | | |
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