All fun is okay fun

The world of warcraft is on this computer also words I don't know, also I don't know, also I left my camera at my ye ye's house, I asked my brother to wheel me around in his wheelchair and he said, okay, but first I gotta go spit that dirty cake that someone left outside. Why did someone leave a dirty cake outside our door?

Picture one:
Ａ　ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ!

Ｔｈｅｒｅ　ａｒｅ　ｓｏ　ｍａｎｙ　ｔｈｉｎｇｓ　ｔｏ　ｅａｔ　ｉｎ　Ｃｈｉｎａ!

Ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ　ｔｗｏ:
Ａｎｏｔｈｅｒ　ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ!

Ｔｈｅｓｅ　ａｒｅ　ｔｈｅ　ｆｏｏｄｓ　ｔｈａｔ　ｗｉｌｌ　ｓｕｒｅｌｙ　ｇｉｖｅ　ｙｏｕ　ｄｉａｒｒｈｅａ／ｃｏｎｓｔｉｐａｔｉｏｎ／ｕｎｅｎｄｉｎｇ　ｆｌａｔｕｌｅｎｃｅ／ｗｈａｔｅｖｅｒ／ｗｈａｔｅｖｅｒ／ｗｈａｔｅｖｅｒ,　ｂｙｅ!

From the spoils of China to the cultural wasteland mindfuckery that is Glen Cove!

When working for a fine dining restaurant in the fine fine city of Roslyn you get see a lot of men in pressed suits and elderly women with wrinkles. Wrinkles with a twinkle. And what do they say?

They say this:

65-75 year old woman: "Okay, but what about Chris Rock? He says the n word. He says, you know, he says, ho, he says, you know, he says bitches. What about that? I'm offended by him. Why did they take Imus off the air and not him?"

The other 65-75 year old woman: "I know. Chris Rock. Oh, that Chris Rock."

Then two tables over:

"Oh, I'd never eat bread."
"Yeah, I'll starve right up until the point where I'm sitting down at a table with a guy, who just ordered a strip steak, and then okay, I'll order a cobb salad. No dressing."
"Of course, no dressing."

And then another two tables over, a squadron of men with thick upper bodies and close cropped hair:

"The thing is, okay, so this black woman calls up the radio station and she's like, 'look, I can say those kind of things about black people, cuz I'm black. I can say them. You can't.' Can you believe that. She flat out says, I can say those things because I'm black and you white people can't. Now, if that isn't the most racist thing I've ever heard, if that isn't the definition of racism, then I don't know what is."

[Everyone ardently agrees.]

"Well, I mean what Imus said was pretty bad, but you know, still. C'mon."

And the last thing:

I walk up to bring coffee to an elderly gentleman and his girlfriend or something like that and they ask me a million and one questions.

"Are you a student."
"No, I graduated two years ago."
"TWO YEARS! You look fourteen."
"Oh, great! It's that Asian curse doing its worst."
"And where did you graduate from?"
"Stanford."
"So what are you doing here if you graduated from Stanford?"
"Oh, I don't know. Just felt like ruining my life! Haha!"
"And what's your name. You know, your real name."
"It's Jenny."
[Slow-ass smile engulfs face.] "No, what's your real name."
"Well, it's not Cho Chang if that's what you're wondering."
"So, where you born here."
"No, I was born in a tiny rice hut, swarming with squealing pigs and villagers with squinty eyes."


You know how there was this chain store named Rockbottoms and you were supposed to get rockbottom prices at this place, but it was a lie, so you would switch price tags, like you'd take the price tag off a Sandylion sticker and put it on a pair of sunglasses and then you'd get a pair of sunglasses for about $1.25, and you still weren't satisfied, so you stole the pair of sunglasses, stole the Sandylion sticker, and bought a stick of gum (so as not to be conspicuous,) and then you went outside and a bunch of girls who had wrists the size of your neck, and necks the diameter of your waste said, "Let's kill that stupid bitch!" and you thought, "Now, this is rockbottom!"

Because guess what, I'm so there again.

Hi, my name is big-time liar, idiot of the century, and I think corporate do-goodery is real

http://online.wsj.com/public/article/SB116976717936888314-R3PyBy3kMuHnx_OSsqYXHz3PYJc_20080126.html?mod=tff_main_tff_top

Woo-haa, an article about how big companies are sending their lovely upper class, well-off employees to observe and learn about people who are dirt ass poor so that these companies can better market their products to poor folks. I'm glad so much effort is being put towards trying to sell things like junk food, hobo bags, and footless tights to people who can't afford healthcare, decent housing, or education.

Whatever, this shit is old news to me, but I love this throwaway line, "In recent years, marketing to the poor has become a hot subject. University of Michigan economist C.K. Prahalad helped popularize the idea with his 2004 book "The Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid," which argued big companies could profit and help the world's four billion poor or low-income people by finding innovative ways to sell them soap and refrigerators."

Big companies could profit AND help the world's four billion poor or low-income people?? How in the name of fuckity fuck by the way yours, mine, and anyone else's unclean ass smells better than this bullshit I just read, could this help the world's low-income people? Yeah, hi did you say you live on less than $2 dollars a day? Great, well you should be happy that we've made small packages of these delicious Nestle Bono cookies and made it a weeny bit cheaper so now you can blow your cash on shit that will rot your teeth and wreck your health one day!

What's that, you're still poor, our company's delicious cookies gave you cavities and you don't have a dentist? Well, for Chrisssakes, we're a cookie company, not the free clinic, go away.

Do I seem like the kind of person who gives a shit about chronology, place, or synchronicity

Or how about:



spelling, grammar, sentences where the comma is used properly, the smells of places, savory or bad, being nice to people who should really get a proper slap to their face, recording life's best moments with a camera! copying ricky gervais' moves, dressing up like a nun, a chinese lady in waiting, boobs propped up curse of the golden flower style, writing poems in my sleep, singing them to loved ones when I'm awake, dancing underneath the stars I've pasted up on my ceiling, taking them down when I turn twenty, putting them back up when I turn twenty three, walking upside and facing a blown up picture of myself in blue overalls, twin pigtails, puffy eyes, flowers for miles the wrong side up, right side left, cheese, any kind of cheese, nostalgia for unconscious beings like a desk, or a peice of paper with a drawing on it, the time we had a yin family reunion and I woke up to the sound of basketball shots and scuffed sneakers, the answer to the question of why our names all sound the same, johnny, tony, annie, jenny, jimmy, winny, linny, tinny, okay so some are fake, some are real, trying four times to go to the rodin sculpture garden and missing it everytime which stinks because by the time i get myself back to that city it'll be gone, who knows what else will be gone, fishing, bowling, singing the right words to songs I know how to dance to, paying my repects, respect, confidence, wit, or graduating from school with the image of my sun reprinted on my back in one big sprawling red splash?

So I met a girl with a pony at the airplane

It's in her suitcase, she lives in South San Francisco with her dad who I mistook for her granddad, and when she danced, she was a little swirl of pink! And I petted her pony love through her suitcase, and then we were off, each to our separate cities.

I had this horrible dream and then it turned out it was no dream

I think this is a common occurrence for most people--you know you have a dream that you have no friends so then you call up someone to tell this to, but oops, you really don't have any friends.

And to celebrate this, I propose unintelligible mumbling rumbling complaining looking at tony's flickr and posting a picture of my grandfather!


What a great catch.


He was looking good and then one day my grandma snagged him!


I think my mom looks a lot like her mom, my grandma who put so many pieces of fish into my rice bowl today that I am filled with fish bones that are as tiny as a line that I could draw across my stomach with a really really fine pen, so I am hoping now that my insides are growing another skeletal frame, a miniature one this time!

Right, part II

Forgot what part one was. I went to a my first wedding. There are some sexy qipaos out there. But whyforenot anyone show cleavage?

Forgot to bring my camera, but I noticed a few things:

1) I went with my cousin and she wanted me to wear a white turtleneck underneath this very nice dress that had potential to show a little boobybittytit but was of course made impossible by the addition of the white turtleneck.
2) So I said no thanks.
3) Everyone who is not extremely ridiculously wealthy and Chinese is terribly afraid of the cold and is not convinced that an indoor wedding held at a nice restaurant/hotel is capable of having warm enough heating to wear a formal dress.
4) There were 28 tables and we were seated at the very worst one.
5) So I didn't see anything.
6) And thusly, missed the part where they showed a slideshow
7) Recapped how the groom originally proposed
8) Had this cheesy bit where the groom and bride sang that song that sounds kinda weird to me in both English and Chinese to each other
9) When everyone else was not paying any attention and smoking, eating, toasting, drinking, jabbering while that song was playing and the bride and groom possibly had a few tears in their eyes.
10) Chinese guys don't seem to really look you in the eye when they talk to you, and neither do Chinese girls, and also no one says their names, which is maybe why my mom still doesn't know the name of that woman who has a really rich house that takes like 40 minutes to get to after you get off the Northern State, and also her friend who works for the UN and told me I'm too good to work for the UN, and then I was like, hahaha yeah right. Still, hahaha yeah right.
11) I want to ask my cousin if she's already had sex or not, because I don't see how if you date someone who doesn't have their own apartment (90% of her friends and herself, in fact, she sleeps in the same bed as my auntie) and you don't have your own apartment, how can you make sweet love to each other?
12) The naughtiest bit was when the bride said she was going to nuli everyday from today on towards her goal of having a baby.
13) Wonder if her parents liked that joke?
14) The most important thing to Chinese people is food.
15) We ate for 4 hours, and like, said congratulations and other stuff for 10 minutes.
16) Wouldn't a western, traditional Christian wedding in Minneapolis be more like a bunch of boring ceremonial stuff, then a buffet and mostly boozing?
17) Wouldn't know. Never been. Just making generalizations.
18) The whole thing wasn't as joyful or festive as I expected.
19) Who was the fucking idiot who wrote that story about the Chinese bride and groom in San Francisco kowtowing in front of a Buddha and the woman wearing a fucking red veil which could not be lifted until consummation time, because the wedding I went to was not set in 1891 Idon'tknowshitbutIwillOrientalizeallmyfakeknowledge-ville.
20) How come the wedding also reminded me of being in high school and going to a dance where everyone is bouncing around and acting stressed out about really small things and making it obvious that they are sort of proud but also uncomfortable in their fancy get ups and high heeled shoes by clicking them so hard on the ground and running around with clipped feet and talking fast about all the things that went wrong, and also
21) I saw this girl who was 25 and already someone's baby momma, and she was so skinny and made all the same lude jokes as everyone else but she had to leave at 8 pm and everyone else who didn't have a baby didn't have to, and then it got me all nervous and I had to put my hand over my heart, pledge of allegiance style, to keep it down.

All in all, no astute observations made, no snappy pictures taken.

The crying of getting a lot of haircuts, the crying lot of getting two haircuts in two days and wanting a third

and yeah yeah blah blah blah blah, not a direct wordplay on the novel, but who cares, I read one page of that book and got much more interested in taking a dump or putting grains of sand into my fingers than reading another sentence, and let me tell you something else. Or ask something else.

WHY DOES EVERYONE LOOK AT ME AND THINK, DANNNNG, SHE WOULD LOOK SMOKIN' GOOD IN A MULLET????????????????????????????????

Hello to the world, I don't look good in a mullet, I don't want Jennifer Aniston's circa 1992 Friends shagcut, I don't want to look like the pretty Chinese girls who shop on Xinle Lu with their intensely layered, banged up, really fucking cutting ass chunky great hair, I just want to look exactly the same way I looked before you gave me a mullet but with less hair all around, IS THAT SO HARD TO DO?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Well here's a blast from the past, when I looked normal and not like the piece of shit you avoided when you were walking through the part of Dolores Park where all the nice dogs play.



This was from the time we only had two more days in London and all my momma wanted to do was go to Buckingham boringcrap Palace and then I got mad and made her take a picture of me with all this horse doo doo. Okay, less crap, doo doo, dookie turd talk in future posts.





And this was also from when I didn't have a mullet and was happy because my parents went with me to the British Museum and were happy as little sun-soaked plants going through the Chinese Civilization Room and then they saw the nice gold expansiveness of the Reading Room and they were happier still and I also learned my dad has a lovely eye for taking photographs and remembered that my brother did too before he hated everything that was not getting a really great score on some game he plays online.

Eeehahahoohoohawhawhaw

Can you believe they served champagne here on New Year's Eve?



And also, what was up with the two guys who stood up on chairs and counted down to New Year's Eve and then a woman in the tallest bun I've ever seen with my own eyes came and gave me a hug and I was like, hey you're Chinese, you shouldn't be friendly towards strangers and felt the pangs of being a bigot. The two boys who stood up were a tall blond man who looked vaguely Dutch and a guy who reminded me of the half-Italian, half-Portuguese, 100% frat boy weirdo ickypants coworker of mine who would show up to work at 6 drunk and proud.

I like that Zion I song that goes, "When you're young and Black and proud like me/ Black and proud stop crowdin' me."

If only a nice little faerie could fly into my ears right now and sing that song to me. Otherwise, I don't know what other way there is?

Have you ever pretended to go to the bathroom during lunch or dinner

and then lurk around the front desk and when no one is looking ask for the check and pay it yourself and then when you get back and half an hour later lunch or dinner is all done and your friend goes to pay the bill he finds that you've already pay it and then he gets into a big argument with you and he's like, "So you won't let me pay the bill, you think I can't afford it, how could you do this?" and you're like, "Don't say those words," or I'd like to know if you've ever physically wrestled someone to pay for the bill, and I'd also like to know if you've ever bumped your chest against the chest of another (ladies, this sadly excludes us) to get at a bill, or have you ever thrown someone's money across the table and say, "Don't make me do that again because I can do it endlessly?"

If your answer is no, then we're in the same club!