Oh, c'mon.

Take a closer look.

This is Vile File type stuff.

fool me once, shame on you...

Hot & tangy Cheez Doodles. Not tasty. Suckered again!

Also, unrelated to the title, Great Googly Moogly!!!. Stumbled on this via a site from the 'next blog' button. The DRE looks decidedly analog rather than digital.

"Nigga gots a shaved head, yo!!"

Ah! Finally allowed access. Damn blogger.
The other night in the Portuguese (Ironbound) section of Newark I had a chance sidewalk encounter with a large collective of rambunctious Latinos and Blacks. In particular there was a brief exchange with one of their party for he, due to reasons completely incomprehensible to me, got a real kick out of seeing a Chinese guy with a shaved head and needed to tell me this. You'd think he just got off the teacups ride at Disneyland he was having such a blast. Last week, basketball player Dikembe Mutombo received a technical foul in a game because the ref said "he was taunting me with his smile". Could this have been the case? Was this guy taunting me with his jolliness? I dunno. Anyway chico/niggaro, if you're reading this, happy to have made your evening. It just goes to show me two things: 1. I never know what counts as entertainment around here and 2. it'd be a leadpipe cinch selling products to this fellow. Just slap a picture of my face on everything from sneakers to baby food and watch the cash roll in!
Our top restaurant choice was no longer seating; the alternate was ok. The frango de churrasco's saltiness made me super-parched but it was tasty. I didn't order in Portuguese because (this I'm certain) my pronunciation would cause the waiter either to laugh alot or vomit aplenty. Anyway, next time I go back I dunno if I should wear a hat or a ring around my neck of those little spotlights one attaches to the bottoms of paintings. I think it'll depend on the weather.

Repulsive Person(s) of the Week: Those Schiavo "pro-lifers". In recent mornings I've listened to John Gambling, a conservative AM talk radio host. He's of the opinion the federal gov'mint has no business meddling in this Schiavo thing, nor should they enact a blanket law regarding feeding-tube removals since each case varies quite a bit. So far so good right? You can't imagine the amount of "You deserve to die die die you asshole!!!" type hatemail he's received and read on air from his (now former) "pro-life" conservative listeners. So, braindead is not a case for ending life. But the other kind of braindead, the "Egads! Contrasting opinion!!" type, the 'bomb abortion clinics to kill doctors' type, that's ok. Yikes!
Maybe what we need is some report of Elian Gonzalez marrying an Arab woman who showed her nipple on TV and now wants to abort a coma-baby. Just deal with all this dumb shit at the same time.

Hi-Diddle-Dee-Dee aka "If Andy Richter, why not I?"

It pleases me to no end when I'm able to garner genuine laughs from others. Everyone benefits and it's a nice temporary distraction from the daily grind. Despite global warming the world is a colder place than ever. My online journal, so called to lend it more heft than would blog, (you may call it OJ for short though that completely negates the heft I'd just attained), provides me an extra opportunity to entertain. Of course, only because you've decided to read it (thank you thank you).

Now, back to Andy Richter. He is of the Will Ferrell ilk in my opinion. Many love him and I've nothing against the guy but I've never found him funny. In fact I can recall the first (possibly only?) time I ever laughed at him. It was during his short-lived "Andy Richter Controls the Universe" show. A new, black employee also named Andy joined his firm and others started calling Richter 'big Andy' & 'white Andy'. He wanted people to call the new guy 'black Andy' but they exclaimed, "You can't call a guy 'black Andy'!!!". That's entertainment! But only that one time. Anyway, I've decided "If Andy Richter, why not I?", meaning the perfect profession for me would be 'Talk Show Sidekick'. I feel I'm well qualified and surely you'll agree once I run through my credentials.

The position requires the ability to interject one-liners and witticisms without having to sustain a coherent, challenging, and humorous dialogue. That's my forte! You may chuckle at some of my comments these days but if you got to know me you'd learn I'm quite superficial and there's really just nothing to me. Believe it!

Also of benefit, despite my worthiest efforts, I've acquired and retained vast amounts of useless pop culture trivia, or "knowledge" as I like to call it, which would be both handy and relevant to the job. In addition, I bear a certain level of disdain for celebrity (due either to jealousy or just dislike) which will make for interesting exchanges on the rare occasions I venture a question to the guest.

Another bonus is my exotic looks which will make the ladies swoon! True, ladies have never swooned, nor even come close to swooning around me, but that just means I'm due for some swoonin' action. (Never has anyone used 'swoon' 4 times in such close proximity. (5x!)).

Perhaps most important, I don't mind following in the wake of fame, in fact, I'd prefer it! I can reap benefits without having to absorb all the criticism and attention that the host must. I'm a homebody as well so the paparazzi won't cramp my style. Just so long as they don't peek in the windows when I'm doing "research" in my Juggs magazines.

Though I enjoy entertaining, I'm no court jester. I can flip the script and talk serious if needs be (reference my SiC lament if you don't believe me). It's not the "Meat bad, beans good" & "Convert to Scientology" type-serious that celebrities like to engage in, but it's a start.

Lastly, we Vespuccian Born Chinese Males (VBCMs) are a growing demographic in this country and are in search of an identity and a chance to flex our market-muscle. These VBCMs need a public mouthpiece to speak for them. I volunteer! Placing a VBCM such as I (VBCMsaI) one seat to the right of the media spotlight will provide a focus for other VBCMs (oVBCMs). Though, in actuality, I share very little in common with these other VBCMs (these oVBCMs), old white TV execs (oldWhi-TE) don't know that and by the time they find out, too bad; I'm under contract. I feel I have a great shot at success. I've made up my mind and will be starting my new gig tomorrow. Someone please point me in the right direction.

blunderbuss

A well-thought-out name makes all the difference. Take 'blunderbuss' for example. It's fun to say but does not inspire user confidence. That is due to the presence of the word 'blunder' in it. Now, a pilot of an A-10 Tank Killer is certain he'll do some damage on his next air strike. A fellow donning a bulletproof vest has that added level of security. You pick up a screwdriver you're feeling damn sure you'll be driving some screws. However, if you're purchasing a robotic nanny, the Inept5000™ probably will make you cringe. And you would most likely regret bringing that kid 'Charlie the human diarrhea'© with you on that long road trip. Moral? Pay attention to the nuances in a name; they may save you a lot of grief and/or time otherwise spent upholstery-scrubbing in the backseat.

Cereal Review, Klassix:
Kellogg's OJ's cereal. Orange juice flavored cereal. Failure.

Viagra use on the ...'rise' (snicker)

If I am not mistaken a recent radio ad announced that Viagra is now available in fast-dissolving reditab form, without a doctor's prescription.
In other news, Pfizer also just announced their surprising partnership with website: www.SlippingMickeysInMensDrinksAtTheBar2GiveThemEmbarrassingErectionsCanBeFun.com

Though most likely it's a bit messed up lookin', I have finally adjusted my blog template to more of my liking. A shout out to the Hello! program for making this a difficult process.

Repulsive Person of the Week:
So many white collar criminals to choose from, so little time. Today I opt for Bernard Ebbers, felonious WorldCom ex-CEO. He cooked the books, lied all around, and just seemed like a jackass. But what pushed him over the top for me is the additional fact that WorldCom declared bankruptcy from that fiasco and so shafted us in Jersey with tons of debt from the farked up EZ-Pass system they implemented on our highways. Thanks Ebbers! Enjoy tossing cellmate Bubba's salad for the next few decades!

Screw DIS location!

I prefer to keep this weblog's subject matter of a light and airy nature, like a spring breeze through my unzipped trousers while in the Swiss Alps (at least, I imagine it's like that). But if I see something I'm strongly against I will speak my mind. Today I feel the dire need to address a most serious topic: the presence of screw dislocations in the surfaces of Silicon Carbide (SiC) wafers. SiC is a wide bandgap material and thus intriguing for use with electronic applications. For instance, RAM chips produced from SiC would be nonvolatile and could eliminate the need for permanent storage media such as hard disks. Though twinned structure defects can occasionally occur during the epitaxial growth process they are not the main issue. Physical vapor transport (PVT) is the usual technique for growing boules of SiC from initial seed crystals. During this growth, point defects on the surface eventually converge forming super-screw dislocations that result in micropipes. These micropipes have an adverse effect on the wafer's high-voltage electrical properties. How to eliminate these defects? How?! Oh the humanity.

Blame it on the Crystal Pepsi

I'm a sucker for new food gimmicks. If Taco Bell rearranges their 7 ingredients and this time wraps the cheese outside the taco shell, I'm there! If Burger King wants to slather BBQ sauce on a whopper and call it a Rodeo Burger, giddyup baby! And then if they slap some bacon on it next week and call it the Big Ranchero Whopper, I'll get it again. This can all be traced back to when I missed the boat on Crystal Pepsi. Though everyone concurs that it sucked, I didn't get to experience that suckitude first-hand. Since then I have subjected myself to the horrors of Pepsi Blue, Malta Goya, Tom Tucker's mint soda, and countless others. I am trying to stop this bad habit though. It all comes down to one of two choices: succumb to the obsessive compulsions or bite my thumb at the marketing execs and resist. My body's convulsing.

Cereal Review, Klassix:
General Mills S'mores Crunch (pulled from the market, reincarnated a few years later as S'mores Grahams, then yanked again fairly soon after). Replicating the taste of s'mores via chocolate coated golden grahams with mini-marshmallows. Would it be hyperbole to describe it as an 'orgasm in a bowl'? Yes. But just barely. Suffice to say, best fucking cereal. Ever. EVER!!! Are you listening to me?!! And they yanked it. Stella!!! STELLLAAAA!!!!!!! I could keep them in business single-handedly with that cereal; I go through a box of Count Chocula in one sitting. Please excuse me, I have to go cry. Again.

Kids, I'm gettin' jiggy with it

So if I ever were to be a parent (don't fret, it's not happening) besides keeping up the family tradition and sucking at it, I would be sure to speak often to the kids about celebrities and pop stars but purposely mispronounce names and get factoids criss-crossed. Why? Let's say, as a metaphor, that their journey through life is the shoes they're walking in. My doing annoying stuff like the aforementioned would be akin to a bunch of tiny pebbles being slipped slowly into said shoes. And I'll be sure to program them early in life, via guilt trips, to think that they can never remove these shoes to clean them out either. Also, I'll never let them have a pet bunny nor a kitten. As an added bonus, when I enter retirement age I'll be sure to place the financial burden of support for the ever-increasing, disproportionately large number of us old fogeys on them and their peers, either directly or indirectly through taxes ("by hook or by crook!" will be our mantra). Finally, after festering and raising Cain, my curmudgeonly and miserly existence will end. After I'm dead and cremated and it's time for them to divy up my estate, there shall be only these words on the will: "Gotcha, Suckers! I have bequeathed all to bunny & kitten charities". Hmm, maybe I will have kids afterall!

Repulsive person of the week weak
Anne Coulter. Bitch, just shut the fuck up!! My nominee as posterchild for 'why can't humans be born without mouths'.

Heredity? I say environment!

So I watched some of "She's All That" the other night. It was due to the same Nashville Star Nets game, plus I've got a thing for Pygmalion. That's because it was the plotline of every other Three Stooges episode. And Rachael Leigh Cook ain't too shabby either (if reading that sentence aloud be sure to pronounce the final word as "EYE-ther" for extra gravitas. "EE-ther" just doesn't work well with 'shabby'). Anyway I noticed Freddie Prinz Jr. had this weird wobbledy-legged walk. Think of any movie where Rowdy Roddy Piper had to run around a bit; it was like that but walking. It led me to wonder, "does the junior Freddy Prinz, in fact, have metal knees?" Time for some investimigating. That would surely make his stock plummet with the teenybopper chickadees. For the sake of their fragile little hearts I'd best be wrong.

Little known factoid: Aerosmith's song "Love in an elevator" was actually "Lovin' an elevator", Steven Tyler's tribute to the convenience-appliance. Due to his Lyme disease afflicted knees and his old 13 story walk-up, once he moved into a building with a good ol' Westinghouse, he penned the ode to express his gratitude ("You have my gratitude" as that fake Mr. Han from "Kentucky Fried Movie" would repeatedly say). Later, their British producer recommended they change the song when he exclaimed, "Are you blokes daft?!!". This is a complete and utter lie, though I wish it were true. This is also an example of why I lost in that boardgame 'Beyond Balderdash' all the time.

be a star!

Well well well, so the lead singer of Poison is now a judge on this show "Nashville Star", some American Idol type crap but for country music. Oh how the mighty (mighty=feeble) have fallen (fallen=stayed level). And don't ask me how I know this or why I watched any of it. Suffice to say the Nets were again getting blown out of another post-Allstar game hoops contest and my blood pressure needed a moment to simmer down. If the rhinestone outfits didn't burn my eyes out*, and if the country music didn't make my ears bleed**, I figured I could have a little chuckle before returning to the pain of "please someone throw a fucking post-entry pass!!!" (Feel free to substitute a Yao Ming Houston Rockets game in here if you prefer).
So why is Bret Michaels now in the country music scene? Shouldn't they have gone after Jon Bon Jovi? That guy's southern drawl has become more pronounced over the years. Yeah, he's from the South all right, south Jersey. Not even; more like Central Jersey and the Jersey Shore is not THAT different a world. Inconceivable! What's next? Some washed up trollop like Madonna pretending she's from England or something? 'Nigga pleez!' (as the white kids like to say, to each other, in private, when there are no black kids around). I prefer when the British put on fake US accents. They just get loud and obnoxious! Like that guy barking for his Waldorf salad in Fawlty Towers.

*Help! I'm blind!!
**Help!! Did I just yell out, "Help! I'm blind!!"? I can't hear a thing!!!

"Well. HellOo Mr. Fancy Pants"

I thought fetishes were meant to be kept deep in one's closet, to be accessed and indulged-in when seemingly safe in one's own private setting. You don't see Marv Albert on-air shouting to everyone, "YESSSS!! I love dressing in a woman's cLOthes while SODomizing her" (in that weird inflection of his). Johnny Bootlicker doesn't approach me in the bank line and loudly proclaim how he "sure love lickin' boots". So why do people feel the need to tell me "they got a thing for Asian women"?
1.)first of all, WHOOP DEE DAMN DOO!
2.)Um, thanks? I'm an Asian male, a straight one. "No soup for you!"
3.)It doesn't then make you "in" in my book. I'm not dubbing you 'honolawy Chinese' just because you told me that.
4.)goto 1.)


By the way, I blame much of my blog-addiction on the frog princess. What began as just a bit of 'browsing her links' soon became a rampaging juggernaut of 'need more (good) blogs!'. That next blog button at the top is the proverbial needle in a haystack when it comes to R.O.I.


Repulsive person of the week: (and by that I don't mean he/she is sickening for this week alone, but rather a 7-day spotlight is being shined on his/her incessant putridity).
This week it is Paris Hilton. Has there ever been a bigger sack of shit masquerading as a lazy-eyed human being? I can't even drive by a Hilton hotel now without chundering a little.

You devil(dog), you!

The ache in his heart pained him so; it hurt like a great big hurty thing. His stomach grumbled in a way that screamed "mutiny!!" and he was left short of breath and gasping for air in the manner of a grossly overweight snack food afficionado who has just received his latest subscription copy of "Hostess Cupcakes Gone Wild, 2". As he released, from multitudinous orifices, a cornucopia of fragrant emissions that would do 'Olaf the Ever-Pungent' proud, or at the very least send the DMV inspection station examiners home to their mamas crying, "I can no longer smell the aroma of onions", he turned to face the setting sun (or whichever direction was upwind), shook his fist with the strength he could muster and vowed, "As god is my witness never again, Taco Bell! Never again" then dropped to his knees, head in hands, knowing full well that would never be the case.

Blow! Hard!

Is it only america that has an infatuation with shock-jocks and talkshow windbags? The average Joe/Jane Asshole seems to rally around these blowhards. They see someone who is allowed to spew unchecked at the mouth while they feel continually more oppressed by this litigious and politically correct culture. The argument may go that this general censorship is the problem and these loudmouths are just societal indicators of it. However would it really be a good thing to let all these repressed persons overtly express their racist fears, hormonal slobbering, intolerances, and general cruelty? Rules are made to be broken and boundaries are meant to be pushed; this is the human credo. The usual argument for rules is that they are enacted in the interest of the vast majority and meant to protect them from humanity's seedy few. Theoretically nothing could be simpler than to agree with the idyllic notion of a pure, free society. But when exposed to humanity's Lowest Common Denominators most folks quickly change their tune. It could be argued as well that these rules are put in place by a minority to protect the vast majority from the vast majority. Ultimately, grudgingly, I suppose it's better to "let 'em spew" with the hopes that through open dialogue, better understanding and tolerance will be achieved. But (assuming your position is even correct) how often have you ever been able to convince someone enough to sway him/her to your point of view?


Kellogg's corn flakes with real bananas
-By the time the dried bananas have softened enough in the milk to become tasty, the flakes have gotten soggy. Skip it and just buy some normal corn flakes and a few fresh bananas (oh, $.79 /lb. too rich for your blood you lazy ass?)