Screw your gratitude journals, bitches—some days, my only “gratitude” is the mania when a God like Young Mazino crashes into my orbit like a Soju-fueled meteor. Welcome to Glenderful’s Shit List, where I immortalize the men that detonate my soul, leaving me to crawl through hot, sticky coals just to lick their boots clean. This Korean-American enigma isn’t just haunting my fantasies—he’s fucking them raw, leaving my dignity in tatters and my mind (what’s left of it !) begging

Let’s tongue-dive straight into the algorithm’s fever swamp, because that conniving Netflix temptress dropped me Bling Empire—an uncut, pulsing dream I never wanted to wake from. Out parades Kevin Kreider, the Asian-American Adonis who doesn’t just rip stereotypes apart—he leaves them gasping, ruined, on satin sheets. This jawline-demon, this shirtless Korean god, didn’t just climb Glenderful’s Shit List—he detonated the whole thing, slapping down the bland, noodle-white logi

Let's dive balls-deep into Bollywood's sweaty, spicy chaos! For this edition, we're plunging headlong into the kaleidoscopic whirl of saris and spotlights, tabla beats thundering like a monsoon heartbeat, dance numbers that erupt in a frenzy of color and sweat. Forget Hollywood's limp-dick superhero reboots choking on billion-dollar flops – India's cranking out cinematic nukes that make Tinseltown look like a VHS tape. While Hollywood reels from the streaming wars' endless bu