Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Looks like I'll actually have a weekend free this time. I'm kind of supposed to go up to SF for a conference this week, and a friend formally from SF, now on the East Coast is in the city visiting, so I was going to catch up with her, but I got some work and missed the conference. And now that I have no where to stay up there any more, I'm going to forgo the SF experience. Boo hoo. (read: weeeeee!) Although I miss my friend terribly, I do not miss the city that much, I'd rather be in LA (gasp!). I think the only redeeming quality that city has is the food. I have to admit, I miss the food. LA sucks for that. But otherwise, San Francisco is pretty much good for nothing except sucking both your wallet and your soul dry. It's cold and crowded and smells bad. People vomit and urinate on your stoop pretty much on a daily basis. White Man's Burden is heir apparent everywhere, in the 'ethnic' clothing to celebration of every single known holiday in the world (who really celebrates boxing day?) If you're a "person of color", you'll have lots of friends, 97% of them white. White people collect ethnic friends like a homeless person collects cans. It makes them more sensitive and cultured. And if you have any white friends, forget having friends in your own ethnic group. You will be shunned because they are all purists to the point of being zenophobic. I can't think of one Japanese friend that I had that wasn't either anti-Japanese or related to me. In San Francisco, it is so uncool to like things like, movies that involve explosions, fast food, chain stores, Santa Claus, or the KKK. Okay, no one respectable likes the KKK, but if there was a posse of four or more white men sitting together, they were automatically labeled clansmen. Everybody up there considers themselves a minority up there. It becomes a race to see who can marginalize themselves the most. If someone is of one nationality only, they consider themselves a minority. *Them:"I'm Irish" Me:"Yeah, but you're still white" Them:"But I'm ALL Irish" Me:"Then you're REALLY white" *Them:"Hey, I'm Australian." Me:"Then you're a white criminal" *Them:"I'm a Norwegian homosexual triple amputee orphan who grew up in Africa with Legionairre's disease." Me:"Okay, you win, I give up" But when it comes to personal tastes, you'd BETTER be alternative, ultra-hip, and/or punk rock. Me:"I like country music" Them:"FrrrreeeeeaaaaaaK!!!!!" When people are paying ten bucks a minute for flavored oxygen (really), you KNOW it's time to get the hell out of there. I can go on and on forever about the drawbacks of San Francisco, but Ill let you move up there and experience the pain yourself. Bring lots of cash. My point of this tirade is: I have an entire weekend to do nothing. Anyone want to join me for a hike? [11:36 PM] |

Monday, January 26, 2004

* Pabst blue ribbon and smelly farts (who knew?) * god fart charles manson (four words I never knew could exist with each other) * characters from Lizzie macguire * Dr. Phil's ultimate weight loss challenge (I bet I didn't help out at all) * puxatauny phil * celebrity skidmarks * projectile vomit special ingredients (I really hope that's some punk rock band name) * rachel ray pussy (who doesn't want a cook?) * tryptophan in turkey harming dogs * hunky dog * hawaiian promiscuous women * smelly skidmarks (skidmarks are really popular nowadays, aren't they?) * carbohydrates in Dr. Phil's shape up bars (these diet people aren't getting any help from me, I bet) * me sick puppy * rachel ray topless (popular girl) * twinkie gorging pictures (...) * playboy superbowl party * jerky ass burn (???) * sniffing skidmarks (the skidmarks MUST stop! From now on, it's s**dm**ks) [7:27 PM] |

Sunday, January 25, 2004

-over I had a good time with Pisser last night. Drank a bit. And a bit more. Than again, etc...It was nice to get out, and at least it wasn't a total Hollywood outing. It was more of a low-cash outing, not yet ghetto, but it was still a Hollywood event nonetheless. Most of the time we were surrounded by entertainment-related individuals, but most of them either recent transplants and/or have only been entertainment involved for 5 years or less, making them still excited about what they do, or still idealistic about 'making it'. Ah, poor poor saps. They will learn soon enough. And no, I did not skank it up. Well, just a little. I was hoping to, but it's too cold, and I have my limits. I'll just wait for the next non-ghetto hollywood party. I hope I didn't do anything or say anything stupid, which I tend to do when there's alcohol involved. But I don't think I went home with some strange guy. At least not one that stayed the entire night. There was no one there in the morning, and no funny stains or funny smell. Well, except for the dog smell, but I don't even notice it. I ran into someone I went to college with. It was all very random. Odd thing is, I don't remember how we met. We were in the same department, but we never worked on a project together, which leads me to believe that I probably know him from something scandalous. On his part, not mine. I hope it's something naughty, that's always more fun than, "oh yeah, you were the one who ate burrittos at 2 o'clock on Tuesdays and Thursdays", or something equally banal. I need another bath. [8:06 PM] |

Friday, January 23, 2004

Just got back from a disastrous meeting. I never knew how much bullshit this little body could hold. I'm still cleaning it from my ears. And now I'm in trouble. At the Hollywood party I attended a couple of weekends ago, I met a nice woman who was happy to not talk shop with me. It was one of the more pleasant times of the shindig. After discussing our lives and other random crap, she says, "You're clever. I bet you have a script." And I had to laugh. Granted I did have a script, but only because I had to write one in college in order to graduate. I told her such, and she proceeded to schedule a time to meet so she and her staff could read it. I thought, maybe I can make some quick cash reading scripts, so I said okay. If anything, I can try and get my cousin a job or at least a hook up. The only thing, I realized AFTER I got back from LV, is I don't have my script. I think it's somewhere in SF with all of the other crap I really don't care about but keep because I'm a pack rat. So this week, I pulled stuff out of my ass I forgot was there and put together two incredibly asinine treatments, just to have something in my hands today. After explaining my lack of full length script, she took my crap, had ten copies made, and sat me down with 6 other people to "chat". Did I fail to mention that I had on Ben Davis and a t-shirt that said "gamecock" on it? This was supposed to be us "hanging out" and chatting about some work. I was actually sweating. The worst feeling in the world (besides, say, a hot poker up your butt, or stuck in a room alone with idiot Mike), is sitting in a room with a bunch of people with money reading crap that you vomited up on paper, waiting for them to say, "You're a huge moron". When they were all finished, they looked at each other with no expression, so I think they work by ESP. More proof that entertainment executives are aliens. Then she said, "okay, finish both of them up and get back to me. Preferably SOON." And I was excused. Okay, so that whole ordeal is over, but now I have to write scripts about stories I have no interest in. I don't even want to write them. I want to read other people's scripts and tell them what's wrong with them, not write my own. Not to mention, there was no money involved, so I have very little incentive to finish them. So if there's anyone who wants to write stupid scripts, let me know. I'm still trying to cure cancer. But at least you will all know where I'll be...stuck at the computer trying to churn out some crap for whoever the star of the moment is now. I can't even think of who's popular right now. Somebody just give me the winning lottery ticket please. [12:55 PM] |

Thursday, January 22, 2004

Maybe it's just the period (I'm not pregnant again, yay!), but man, have I been getting girly again. After seeing a show of my favorite group in the world, I remember what having a crush is like. I mean, have you ever been so hot for someone it physically hurt? You can't do anything but watch and try real hard not to drool? Here I am, pretty much one of the only non-black folk in the club, just kind of swaying back and forth, by myself, I might add, not really moving to an incredible show that everyone else (non black folk included) are getting funky to. Everyone's like, "look at that idiot asian girl, just sitting there not doing anything. Girl probably has no rhythm." Let me tell you, I can get down with the best of them (whoop whoop), I was just stuck that night. So I've had this weird fantasy crush on this guy, Steve G. (no, not you ex, not in a million years) ever since I was well, not a wee lass, because back then, I was doing manual labor-type work that made me all lean and cut, not soft and squishy and round like I am now, but way back when, is my point. I was working on a music video for them (not on the web site, I don't know why), and I could barely do my job with this guy around. He was beautiful, without being too pretty, masculine, without being a jackass, considerate, without being a big pussy. What more could you ask for? When we met, I was lugging heavy equipment, and he said, "wow, you're strong". I kind of went "heh heh" like a stupid Jarvis and Butthead. And it all went downhill from there. I spilled coffee on him, I hit him with a measuring tape, my big, gross grannie panties were sticking out of my pants, all in all, it was not an attractive day for me. And I think the only thing I said to him was some random nonsequitor like, "I had ravioli on Tuesday" or something equally uninteresting. But it's not just me. I have since gotten a bunch of my friends into them, and they do the same thing. Except one friend, who actually went up to him and said, "I'm married, but it's just to some white kid, and I know he wouldn't mind if I slept with you." Then I think she realized what she actually said and turned around and walked away. He has that effect. It's been quite a while since I've seen them play, so this was a treat, if not a dangerous one. Not a good place to be in LA, but whatever. Actually, I have no idea what this guy is really like. Besides the good stuff I mentioned previously, he could, realistically, be a misogynist ass, a vegetarian that preaches tolerance. He might like to read poetry by the fire, hates dogs, is mean to old people, likes to cuddle and watch "Friends". All those things that say, "this boy is a huge waste of my time". But it's all a fantasy anyway, so I'll just pretend he's perfect. And saying all of that, I recommend you all check out a show if they're in your area. [11:55 PM] |

Okay, the streets are safe from superbowlers this weekend. It's next the weekend after next that you should all be weary. As far as this weekend goes, stay out of Hollywood on Saturday unless you're a hot man with tons o' dough. Pisser and I are going to make drunken asses of ourselves. A kind of 'post menstrual release' if you will. Best of luck to you all. [10:26 PM] |

I'm wondering about how smart it was that I bought condoms at Big Lots (formerly Pic 'n Sav). They don't expire until 2007 (hopefully I'll use them all in 2004), they're manufactured in Thailand (is that iffy?). They're Lifestyles, I've never had a problem with them... I just remember the last time I got caught without them. It sucked. And I still let him sleep over, when he should have been out on his ass. After that we made sure we always had some around, but now he has them all. Will someone try these out for me and make sure they're okay? [12:28 PM] |

Tuesday, January 20, 2004

I was recently informed that this weekend is superbowl weekend. I have no idea if this information is true or why said person would think I gave a rat's ass about such a lughead event, but what can you do? Ah, the weekend of the most reported domestic violence cases in the country, most of them from the losing city. Being in Los Angeles where there are no football teams, I guess I don't have to worry. Even if I were in Minnesota or Cleveland or where ever the teams are from this year, if I were with someone who'd beat me over a football game (some of the shit I do, sometimes I think I should get my butt whupped), you can bet there would be a reported case of some little asian girl beating up her man. But then again, if I were dumb enough to be with someone who'd beat women, maybe I deserve it. I don't want to be out driving either. Lots of DUI's that day too. I think I'll go see a movie. No one should be in the theaters that day except the people trying to get away from the game. [9:44 PM] |

My hair got really long, so out of procrastination of the other things I should be doing, I put my hair up in Princess Leah type danish buns. I've come to the conclusion I look more like an ewock. Hey, I waddle like one too! [12:05 PM] |

Although my current career path is interesting and (hopefully) honorable, I have a fantasy dream job playing in the back of my mind that pops up once in a while for a bit of consideration. (Is fantasy dream redundant? And does adding the word job to it, make it an oxymoron? Am I just a moron?) Am I considering a chance at being a rock star? Maybe a wildly successful actress? An illustrious peabody winning anchor? A Pulitzer-prize author perchance? The answer is no. Actually, what I want is the exact opposite. I want nothing to do with notoriety or fame, what I want to do calls for anonymity. I want to be a food critic for a magazine or newspaper. Now how cool would that be? I would get to eat at high priced restaurants often, for FREE. And I get to bring someone, for FREE. No waiting for reservations. I get to sample two different three course meals for FREE, then get PAID to say what I think of it. I get to do what I do best, eat eat eat, then complain about everything even if I loved it. I HAVE to stop watching the Food Network. But come on, how awesome would that job be? But alas, it's all a fantasy, and once again, I am pulled back into reality with the thoughts of curing caner. [11:40 AM] |

Monday, January 19, 2004

I guess Trigger went to the glue factory, so the search for a new booty call is underway. Because I'm lacking in social skills but not in dignity, I'm going to avoid the meat market of bars and clubs. Instead, I'm going to cull the personals. Maybe I should get rid of this gut first. Eh, more of me to love. Cross your fingers that I don't get myself a serial killer. [9:48 AM] |

Sunday, January 18, 2004

Just got this. My all time favorite. [8:30 PM] |

Yes kids, I'm back from my trip. I have a little less money in my pocket, but I had a good time nonetheless. And somehow, by some inexplicable reason, I came back with a bowling ball mysteriously embedded in my belly. I think all the weight of the bowling ball must have pulled my head down into my body, because my neck seems to have disappeared. It almost looks like I'm wearing a neck brace. Okay, I'll tell you of my trip, then I'll go into my 'theory of Las Vegas'. I don't have a lot of money to gamble with, nor do I have the patience to sit there for long periods of time, so I have to find other ways to fill my time. Actually, the majority of my money happens to be spent on food, but I can only do that for eight hours a day, so there's still time to fill. My grandmother is a huge Celine Dion fan, and she was hinting not so subtly that she wanted to see Celine Dion. No one else wanted to see Celine Dion. But she wouldn't shut up about it, so I told her I'd take her. I found out how much tickets were and decided all the complaining in the world couldn't make me go see Celine Dion, but grannie thought she was going to see a show, so dammit, I was going to take her to a show. And I took her to a show, just not Celine Dion. I took instead to see "Thunder from Down Under". I thought it might shock her enough to forget about Celine Dion. And how can you pass up a show called "Thunder from Down Under"? I mean it has so many meanings on so many levels! Okay, maybe I was craving a little nekkid. Except this wasn't really a 'little' nekkid. It was a lot of grease and a lot of product and a lot of screaming ladies, but the both of us enjoyed it anyway. Yes, she was a little disappointed, but when she found out how much tickets to Celine Dion was, she said she could see her on the TV, but not beefcake like that. That was my grandmother adventure. On a separate occasion, my mother and I were hanging out getting drunk on free, cheap booze. After getting sufficiently liquored up, we decided to have the 'Freemont Street Experience', and I have to admit, sober or drunk, it's pretty cool. But then again, I'm easily amused by shiny things. It's an overhead light show with music, and they do different ones ever half hour or so. When we were through with that, we decided since we didn't have time for a 'real' tittie show, we'd go to a strip club instead. Lo and behold, the Topless Girls of Glitter Gulch was right there, so we moseyed on over and said the magic words, "mother and daughter" and got in free and got to drink some more. Those were some talented girls up there. But I think a lot of the men there were a little nervous with our presence. We must have looked like we were looking for our husband/father, because all of the Asian men had their heads down. We capped off our night karaoking "tiny bubbles" at a Hawaiian night. Since I spent most of the mornings nursing hangovers, I ended up staying up late almost every night. The last night there, my mother, aunt, and I decided to do midnight bingo. One of the bingo workers had a crush on my mother, so we got a lot of attention and extras. And yes, we all got bingo. Here's my thing about Las Vegas: I hate going with most of my friends (and especially dislike going with the ex. He's no fun at all. All statistics and logic. Absolutely no gambling or titties.), I always have fun when I go with my family. They don't make fun of me when I have seven plates of food in front of me, they just say, "is that it?". Don't get me wrong, I love to hang out with my friends, just not in LV. They like to stay on the strip. It's more expensive there than downtown. And there's too many young people, I mean people under 50. And it's loud. I realized long ago, I'm thirty-something going on sixty. I don't like all those young people partying and getting loud. There's too much movement. It's almost like being in college again. The strip is like fraternity row. I love going to the strip to eat. We always go and have at least one nice meal, and check out some of the stuff, but that's about the extent of our strip experience. Downtown is like a completely different country. It's old, it's run down. It's littered with old people, white trash, and Midwesterners who didn't know that downtown wasn't the strip. It's seedy, it smells like sewer, but it's the only place you can get a fried twinkie, for 25 cents at that. It's slow moving, it's not slick, but everyone is having a good time even if they're losing. The stakes aren't as high than on the strip and it's a hell of a lot less intimidating to play tables downtown. If you're trying something for the first time, they'll walk you through it and everyone else at the table will help too and everyone's cheering for each other. The place where we usually stay is mostly Japanese-Hawaiian. The friendliest people around. 90% of the people downtown are geriatric, but act 20 years younger in LV. I made more friends in a couple of days (all over 60, but who cares?) than I've made in five years. That counts touring. I get to sit at nickel slots with my grandmother and she'll tell me all about growing up in Minnesota and when she was a beauty queen. Other old ladies will tell me their stories and teach me their life lessons so I won't make the same mistakes (Carpenters are the best type of men. Usually smart, always well built! Stay away from the Koreans! Get yourself a nice Chinese boy, they're the best! [What about the Japanese men, aren't you Japanese?], etc.). It's mellow and the sweat suit is haute couture. The bedazzeler is used liberally. And I fit in perfectly except the 30 year difference. And the bedazzler, but not because I don't like to bedazzle, I just never have. So if any of you are geriatric acting and want to head to Las Vegas for cheap thrills and a girlie show, let me know. [8:28 PM] |

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

Why yes. Yes indeed I am supposed to be face down in a buffet gorging myself in Sin City, but alas, I am still in the nth circle of hell. My fault. I had a 'Hollywood' party to attend, and as you can tell by the early time, it was not my cup of tea. My cousin invited me to a party a few weeks ago that I could not attend. It ended up being at the Playboy mansion. So I decided to postpone my trip a day to attend this gala. Snuggled in the Hollywood Hills, near Winona Ryder's place (keep your purse close ladies!), we were at the typical hollywood home. But this was no typical hollywood party (for the most part). I have never been in the presence of so many Asians and Jews in my life. That's all there were, except for a few token 'others' and lots of hot Latin ladies on the arms of the Asian men, hm, new trend? I used to think that when Jews and Asians with gobs of dough got together, they spontaneously combusted. I think I was the driving force that kept everything in one piece there. I believe my incomprehensible poverty and non-asiany asian-ness created this vacuum in which all could exist. I hope they didn't implode when I left. The one good thing, I got free tickets to see Dave Attel and Lewis Black in Vegas this weekend. Because I'm crafty that way. Otherwise, the booze and fake food wasn't good enough to crap out of my mouth to all of the big wigs. So wish me good luck so I can win lots of cash this weekend so I can be like those people! I was doing so well as a recluse. I was perfectly happy in my own little microcosm. There was contentness. There was relaxation. There were bad movies and lots of giggling. There were sweatpants. Now I actually have social engagement to attend. Yeesh. There are a couple of girlfriends that I like to hang out with once in a while, but there's one that's kind of irritating. I loathe her boyfriend and she belongs to some weird church that preaches the crap that Dr. Phil likes to talk about. Since I'm still in Ted Kazinsky mode, I was hoping the girls and I could get together when she was busy, to ease back into social mode. But apparently we can't do anything unless ms. touchy feely organizes it! I guess I have to hear about what a wonderful pussy ass bitch the boyfriend is (that's the kind she likes). Then Pisser and I are supposed to catch a show that I'm kind of hoping is sold out so I can just be with a surly compatriot and just get snokered in some dim, dirty bar. Oh yes, I also have an engagement with an old friend whom I haven't seen in a while. She had a 'bad' breakup last year and became intolerable. So I guess tonight was kind of my coming out party. It was my groundhog day, and as much as I want two more weeks of winter, Puxatauny Phil is shoving me out of his hole because I'm making it stanky and he's sick of all the crap I'm knitting and cooking. Okay, I have to get up early so I can listen to my family argue for five hours on the road. See you all soon. Play nice. [10:53 PM] |

but I will be away for the rest of the week, carousing with family members and causing general chaos where ever we go. You all shall hear back from me by Monday, or if I get really bored or something really interesting happens, I'll try and post a short note. Because I know you're all on the edge of your seats waiting for my next nugget of brilliance, since all that I spew is golden. Did you also know that I crap flowers? [1:17 PM] |

Well, yes, I do. But my comment system is down. This is what I get when I use free services. Feel free to e-mail comments and I'll put them up later. damndamndamndamndamn [11:16 AM] |

Monday, January 12, 2004

I received a letter from a reader, regarding my list of search phrases and my commentary of, and the reader did ask, Hey Jerky, you yourself admitted to being a sick individual, so what did YOU do when you didn't have the internet? Did you write hate mail to the popular girls in school? Maybe hung dead animals in old ladies' doorways? Guffaw! Dear dipshit fuckface moron, By the way, is your name Mike? I think that is the most idiotic question I've ever heard, more idiotic than, "are you Michelle Kwan?" Yes, I admit to being a sick sick person, but what EVER gave the impression that I was in any way shape or form Goth? Have I ever mentioned Morrissy, or put pictures of Emily up? Have I ever expressed a penchant for reading Ann Rice novels? Hell, I read the Nanny Diaries! Why would you assume I was not popular? Granted, I wasn't, but that doesn't automatically make me a 'Carrie'-like character out for revenge because I'm drenched in pig blood now, does it? And hanging dead animals? I should be hanging dead fuckfaces in front of doghouses instead. I have more respect for animals than I do most people, I would never ever think of harming one, rodent included. And torture old ladies? I'm being tortured by one now, willingly. Yes, she's family, but it's torture nonetheless. You are obviously reading my blog with a different voice than in which I am writing. Maybe you need to stick to blogs like this one. I don't think you quite understand the subtleties and nuances in which I am trying to convey my thoughts. There's this blog too that might be more your speed. Otherwise my dear, I will answer your question, as asinine as it may be. It could have been thought out a little better though. So before the internet what was I doing? Besides a lot of drinking and drugs, I fulfilled my fantasies by screaming at little children or filling their heads with notions to put them in years of therapy. Besides cheap booze and cheap sex, I don't really have a penchant for things like skidmarks, or donkeys, or feet. I just dislike children, so rather than focusing on my desires, I sought to get rid of my fears. Does that answer your question my plebeian friend? And PS: If I ever catch you using the word 'guffaw' again, I will find you and bludgeon you mercilessly until you cry like the bitch you are. [11:03 PM] |

Sunday, January 11, 2004

One of my grandmother's favorite restaurant's is a not-so-little new york style chinese buffet. And it's always an adventure when taking her there. Not only does she bogart her way around, cutting in line ("I'm old, I can't wait"), she stockpiles the good stuff so no one else can get any, and she brings baggies so she can take food home. It's really quite embarrassing. When I took her again last night, I have to carry her two plates around while she heaps food on them ("They're heavy, I can't carry them" I know she can, but she just likes to be coddled), and while I am spooning a conservative amount of asparagus on my plate, she says really loud, "I guess no lesbian sex for you tonight!" and of course everyone looks at me. I realize I come from generation upon generation of foul-mouthed ladies. Apparently 89 year old Japanese ladies that know not to indulge in oral sex after eating asparagus. I think she must think I'm a lesbian because I'm always commenting that the people I date are pussies. [12:34 PM] |

Saturday, January 10, 2004

I'd be a red pepper flake. Because I'm HOT, and because I'm a flake. During my housesitting stint, while cooking and watching the tube at the same time, Helen Mirren's BBC show was on A&E. I was in the middle of some heavy whisking at the stove and couldn't leave to change the channel after the program was over. The program after was a biography show of the Spice Girls. Since I couldn't change the channel, I just watched it. Now, I can't get Spice Girls songs out of my head. It's horrible. Many days later and I'm still occasionally verbalizing, "Every boy and every girl, spice up your life!" And I'm going crazy. I really need to get out more. Speaking of spice and food. I'm adding to my New Year's resolutions. Well, it's not so much a resolution, but a goal, and it's not limited to 2004. I plan to have a torrid affair with Ming Tsai, Keith Faime, Bobby Flay, Rachel Ray, Michael Chiarello, and/or Tyler Florence. That's my list of hottest people around right now. But you also notice that they are all master chefs with their own food/cooking shows. Because that's my kind of celebrity. [12:35 PM] |

Friday, January 09, 2004

Yes I'm back at casa de old lady, but at least my head doesn't itch. And now another list... This is an honest to goodness truthful list of phrases and words that people have used on search engines that directed them to my site and they clicked on: *Tryptophan *cinnamon roll dog fart thanksgiving (whhhhuuuuaaaaaa?) *Generation Y office lingo *buck point jerky spice (what every outdoorsman needs) *vegan smelly fart (that had to be geek boy) *wild irish rose homeless *my dog ate something (my blog was #2 on that list. A vet site was #1, bet they didn't find mine too helpful) *front row entertainment turkey jerky (I didn't even try to look at this one) *dirty smelly skidmarks underwear (uhhhhhh) *skidmarks girls sniffing (what's with all the skidmarks??) *pen pc crew *poopy pot pie (pot pie...ummmm) *cake pussy stuffing messy pushing (oh my god!!!) *colin farrel scowl *boobs done went blonde (and what is this person looking for exactly?) *making dear jerky (I'm pretty sure this person meant 'deer') *food stuffing messy pushing willows mouth ( I don't EVEN want to know) *stop and smell the roses *girls growing huge butts fat boobs pants ripping bloating (talk about specific!) Okay, I can stand to edit myself a bit more if these search words are pulling up my site. Can we just talk about some of these scary people for a minute? Can you imagine what these people were doing before the internet? I mean how else would someone find cake pussy stuffing? It's not like there's a widely published magazine for it. Do these people work in bakeries and follow customers home hoping that maybe, just maybe the customer will partake in this act? I wonder how these people come upon such activities too. It's not like all of a sudden someone says out of the blue, "I really get off on girls sniffing skidmarks", it has to come from somewhere. It boggles the mind. All of a sudden, I feel really sheltered. [10:30 AM] |

Thursday, January 08, 2004

I'm back from what was going to be a mini vacation, but ended up being an exercise in dirty. My aunt was taking care of my grandmother, so I was free to housesit for my mom's boss again. My plan was to sit around, bake cookies, watch movies, read, knit, and not be bothered by anyone. It started out great, I watched cheesy movies on the SciFi channel, plus some soft core porn on Cinemax (not as much fun alone as it is with a bunch of bitter hyperintelligent women. Well, if you're a girl. I guess if you're a guy, the whole point is to watch it alone or with a bottle of lotion.), I even started to watch the "Lizzie Macguire movie", but I couldn't quite get into it. Something's wrong with a girl that smiles that much. Plus I got to watch a "Xena" marathon on Oprah's channel. But, I forgot to bring shampoo and toothpaste with me. There was none there. The closest store was kind of far, but I had baking soda for my teeth, and I wasn't planning on leaving, so fuck the hair. Except I was called to meat-prop, but whatever, I'll put my hair up. So the meat-propping took an entire day on some show I never heard of, featuring Reuben from American Idol, and boy howdy, does that boy sweat. Nice kid, but swe-a-ty. I got back to the uber house to find the dogs ate my cookies. Bastards. Then, we're on day three of brushing my teeth with baking soda, and unwashed hair, and I have coffee with a friend. She says to me, "you smell like head." After a long pause, I asked, "it smells like a gave head? What does that mean, I smell like Texas chili?" "No, you smell like A head. You know, not all shampoo-y, but like head" In other words, my head stanks. It is kind of gross. Asian hair should be washed often. We can't get away with it like others can. And since I don't have anyone around to try to impress, or even to tell me my head is gross, I tend to not think of those things. Oh yeah, and there was the skunk too. Didn't hit anyone, but still near enough so that it leaves a fragrance. But don't worry, after today, I'll be back to my regular semi-uncleanliness physically. But you can always count on my filthy mind, or my potty mouth. [3:05 PM] |

Monday, January 05, 2004

I'm having sake flashbacks from New Year's Day. I was just reading Kitty's blog about her adventures in relativity. It got me thinking to my own familial affair. Granted, I remember having a decent time, but I contribute that to the constant flow of sake that was blessed my Buddhist monks ("I'm gonna have the mosht fuckin' blesshed year EVER, woooooo!"), as is present at a Japanese new year celebration. I'm also recalling three separate occasions where a relative said to me, "you're going to make a great wife". Three times in one day! Hell, three times! What in god's name is giving anyone the impression that I would make a great wife? Because I remember past family events where relatives would say, "oh, she's still single because she's AMBITIOUS" when discussing my affairs. Does this mean that I've lost my ambition? Or maybe that I've been ambitious for so long without going anywhere that they have to think of a new excuse? Either way, it doesn't look good. On a lighter note, I get to keep busy during my break. More house sitting in swank homes that I will never be able to afford no matter how many tricks I turn. I'm going to Las Vegas to overindulge and look at pretty, flashing lights. I'm heading up to Oakland to, hopefully, not get shot, and attend...get this: a romance writer's conference. I thought it might be fun. A friend went to one, a male friend at that. He loved it. Romance is soooo not his thing (trust me, I know), but he learned a lot anyway, and it was motivating for him to get some work done. Then, I get a small holiday in San Diego that has potential for great fun or complete ruin. When I blog about it and am on the edge of hysterics or full of weepy girlyness, you'll know it didn't go well. But now, I'm trying to take a class online, but I haven't the faintest how to set this crap up. And I have to brave the streets of Westwood, full of freaky little Asians driving badly to pick up a book that's probably going to cost $100. So I'll just pretend to be busy here and put it off until it's too late and I can't take the class anymore. Do I know how to start the year off with a bang, or what? [2:11 PM] |

Saturday, January 03, 2004

Even though you want to show off your new slutty dresses, even with the 15 extra holiday pounds, don't wear them to the dog park. You'll look silly walking around in a tight dress and chunky heels in the dirt and wood chips. And it's also not impressive when you're being pummeled by lots of dog poundage so that your dress rolls up to your waist constantly. And it's more likely than not, that hunky dog park boy will be there to see you looking fine, until you're about to leave and you're not looking so fine anymore, in fact you look quite the ridiculous mess when he shows up, so it's better to wait until some weekend to go out in your new duds when you can get dolled up and troll the cheesy bars on Sunset. [4:07 PM] |

Friday, January 02, 2004

I guess my mellow holiday is indicative of my upcoming year. I had another mellow day, at a MALL no less. Go figure. I had to make some returns. Why would anyone get me a ONE cup coffee maker? Granted, I'm trying to cut down, but come on, when I have addictions, I do them right, no half-assed one cup addictions here, I may be an addict, but I'm no quitter. My mother SO doesn't know me. So while at one of the biggest malls in the nation (really), I decided to peruse the wares of the local merchants. Now, I normally hate shopping, I hate being surrounded by people, and young people even more. But today, I actually got a kick out of it. I'm almost understanding the concept of retail therapy. Almost, when you spend a couple hundred dollars on crap, it kind of hurts. I even bought slutty dresses at the teen stores (back in my day we had Contempo and Wet Seal, they're gone) made for the MTV set that haven't quite filled out, making me a large. So if I decide to go to a homecoming dance, I will be so fucking hot. Or I can be on an episode of Blind Date. Otherwise, I think I'll probably look like a pathetic 30 something lady trying to look 16. Whatthefuckever, I'm cool with the mall set now, and I get to be slutty. When was the last time you got to be slutty? So now that I'm outfitted and ready, time to peruse those personals that I've ignored for so long... [7:44 PM] |

Thursday, January 01, 2004

Yes, I had my mellow New Year's Eve. My friend had to work really late anyhow (check out the Palm Springs Film Festival in Jan.), so it worked out for both of us. The only lame thing was the fact that I had a frozen burrito pressed up against my face all night. But at least the swelling went down. [11:02 AM] |

Turkey Jerky

Blogarama Watch out for them Asians Aussie's Rule! Who needs a hug? The Prettiest Girl Good clean fun! Rock Star semi-nongirlfriend A whole lotta LA Because I said so

other jerky

Old Jerky

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