I went on a date with a Korean yesterday. Hm… it was interesting. Right now I can’t quite recall her name. It started with a J, and had a whole bunch of vowels repeated twice kind of like she picked 4 letters and decided to repeat two of them. All I kept thinking was “there are 22 other letters in the alphabet, can you use them?!!”.
Like I said, it was an interesting date. She kept trying to feed me kim-chi. I tried to explain to her that I only eat masses of flesh, but nope, she kept trying to use her chopsticks to put the cabbage in my mouth. You try swallowing a piece of cabbage as long as your body!
Nice enough girl. Nice laugh, nice smile. I would have liked to see her hair down though. Nice shaped breasts. A little short for my tastes, but I can deal with that. But I dunno. I think I might “lose” her number. Plenty of fish in the sea right? Nos-Chin likes to be multicultural.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Plenty of fish in the sea
Gods! Are all the good fishes in the sea all fried and eaten? Is it true that the dating pool is made up of all the little cast-off fishes that no self-respecting man would touch with a 10 ft pole?!!
Nos-Chin is seriously debating becoming a same-sex luver, or indulging in some self-love right about now. I cannot seem to catch a break. I’d become a Buddhist monk and swear off love altogether, but Buddhism isn’t based on the foundation of killing and consuming your fellow person. It’s about eating rice and talking really loud so people think you’re always angry, or something. Apparently, having a healthy diet of human flesh is enough to get me banned from the temple. Frankly, I think that is a wee bit hypocritical considering there’s no way Buddha got that fat without eating at least some human blubber as protein. Not to mention the fact that he always has these happy rosy-cheeked children climbing all over him, and that’s pretty suspect too. Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
Either way, Nos-Chin is not having luck with the women. Observe:
1) Natalie: nice hair, great rack, but SEVERE acne. She needed to get herself some of that acne product that Jessica Simpson and Vanessa William endorse PRONTO. I felt like I was dating Natalie and her craters. “Hi baby, how you doing? And how are you doing, you pus-filled pustules obliterating Natalie’s face?”
2) Yvette: wonderful, wonderful girl. Polite, funny, smart, beautiful. The whole entire package… you know, when she wasn’t suffering from fits of narcolepsy. Call me shallow but I couldn’t date a woman who kept falling asleep during dinners/movies. That’s good hard-earned money down the drain. That shit gets expensive, and you try earning money when you’re 2 inches tall, and are immobile and swinging from a rear-view mirror most of the time. Not to mention the problems during intimate times. YOU try keeping it up while she is down, if you know what I am saying.
3) Samantha: compulsive liar. No, you are not the offspring of Jesus and Mariah Carey. No, that dress was not given to you by Oprah. No, Brad Pitt is not your brother. No, I did not say I was going to marry you. No, No, No!
4) Carrie: klepto. Samantha and Carrie need to get together and start a liars and cheats club. Carrie, if you’re reading this: I AM going to notice when you steal my clothes items. When you own as few possessions as I do, and your head gear is one of 3 items of clothing you own, I do tend to notice when my head gear goes missing off my head.
5) Barb: butt ugly. I’ve had bowel movements that were more attractive.
6) Phoebe: another great girl, but she had this giant mole on her cheek. GIANT. It was its own planet. I’d try to listen to her talk, but my vision would zero onto her mole. I always felt like it was trying to communicate with me, pulsating a message out in morse code, and I couldn’t tear my vision away. I couldn’t kiss her without thinking that mole was going to eat me alive. Look, I’m not proud that I broke up with her by screaming “It’s alive! It’s alive!” before running away, but I just couldn’t deal anymore. Perhaps one day I will run into her and can apologize. Hopefully after she has that mole removed.
7) Chantal: the personality of a dead fish. Dull, dull, and more dull. I’ve had better conversations with the bozos who drive me around every morning (and those two are a work of art. I think they share one brain).
8) Amanda: she was a HE.
So that’s about it. Nos-Chin just ain’t having any luck. I’m starting to think it might be me. IS IT ME?!!!
Nos-Chin is seriously debating becoming a same-sex luver, or indulging in some self-love right about now. I cannot seem to catch a break. I’d become a Buddhist monk and swear off love altogether, but Buddhism isn’t based on the foundation of killing and consuming your fellow person. It’s about eating rice and talking really loud so people think you’re always angry, or something. Apparently, having a healthy diet of human flesh is enough to get me banned from the temple. Frankly, I think that is a wee bit hypocritical considering there’s no way Buddha got that fat without eating at least some human blubber as protein. Not to mention the fact that he always has these happy rosy-cheeked children climbing all over him, and that’s pretty suspect too. Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.
Either way, Nos-Chin is not having luck with the women. Observe:
1) Natalie: nice hair, great rack, but SEVERE acne. She needed to get herself some of that acne product that Jessica Simpson and Vanessa William endorse PRONTO. I felt like I was dating Natalie and her craters. “Hi baby, how you doing? And how are you doing, you pus-filled pustules obliterating Natalie’s face?”
2) Yvette: wonderful, wonderful girl. Polite, funny, smart, beautiful. The whole entire package… you know, when she wasn’t suffering from fits of narcolepsy. Call me shallow but I couldn’t date a woman who kept falling asleep during dinners/movies. That’s good hard-earned money down the drain. That shit gets expensive, and you try earning money when you’re 2 inches tall, and are immobile and swinging from a rear-view mirror most of the time. Not to mention the problems during intimate times. YOU try keeping it up while she is down, if you know what I am saying.
3) Samantha: compulsive liar. No, you are not the offspring of Jesus and Mariah Carey. No, that dress was not given to you by Oprah. No, Brad Pitt is not your brother. No, I did not say I was going to marry you. No, No, No!
4) Carrie: klepto. Samantha and Carrie need to get together and start a liars and cheats club. Carrie, if you’re reading this: I AM going to notice when you steal my clothes items. When you own as few possessions as I do, and your head gear is one of 3 items of clothing you own, I do tend to notice when my head gear goes missing off my head.
5) Barb: butt ugly. I’ve had bowel movements that were more attractive.
6) Phoebe: another great girl, but she had this giant mole on her cheek. GIANT. It was its own planet. I’d try to listen to her talk, but my vision would zero onto her mole. I always felt like it was trying to communicate with me, pulsating a message out in morse code, and I couldn’t tear my vision away. I couldn’t kiss her without thinking that mole was going to eat me alive. Look, I’m not proud that I broke up with her by screaming “It’s alive! It’s alive!” before running away, but I just couldn’t deal anymore. Perhaps one day I will run into her and can apologize. Hopefully after she has that mole removed.
7) Chantal: the personality of a dead fish. Dull, dull, and more dull. I’ve had better conversations with the bozos who drive me around every morning (and those two are a work of art. I think they share one brain).
8) Amanda: she was a HE.
So that’s about it. Nos-Chin just ain’t having any luck. I’m starting to think it might be me. IS IT ME?!!!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
My new column: Unsolicited Advice
Q: I recently met a girl and we fell in love; she’s pretty and caring and loves me dearly. There’s only one problem: she has two tattoos on her back and they really bother me.
Worse, I find it bothers me more and more.
Am I being too judgmental? I really love her, but I can’t seem to get past her tattoos.
-Inky View
Dear Inky View:
I suggest that you be honest with her. Tell your girlfriend that her tattoos bother you because you find them distasteful, and broach the subject of tattoo removal with her. Give your girlfriend the opportunity to dump you for being a judgmental git who doesn’t seem to understand the very simple concept: her body = her tattoos. Unless she has a swastika tattooed on her back (in which, what the hell are you doing dating a nazi anyway? Judgmental and inappropriate taste in women? God, you are a catch!), her body art does not concern you, especially body art she received prior to meeting you. I suggest you date someone in Communications instead. Everyone knows that women in Communications are stuck-up bitches who would never tattoo their bodies.
No need to thank me, you’re very welcome for the advice.
Worse, I find it bothers me more and more.
Am I being too judgmental? I really love her, but I can’t seem to get past her tattoos.
-Inky View
Dear Inky View:
I suggest that you be honest with her. Tell your girlfriend that her tattoos bother you because you find them distasteful, and broach the subject of tattoo removal with her. Give your girlfriend the opportunity to dump you for being a judgmental git who doesn’t seem to understand the very simple concept: her body = her tattoos. Unless she has a swastika tattooed on her back (in which, what the hell are you doing dating a nazi anyway? Judgmental and inappropriate taste in women? God, you are a catch!), her body art does not concern you, especially body art she received prior to meeting you. I suggest you date someone in Communications instead. Everyone knows that women in Communications are stuck-up bitches who would never tattoo their bodies.
No need to thank me, you’re very welcome for the advice.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Hodgepodge
1) It started with the Olson twins: A barista from Starbucks came forward and said he switched all of the Olson Twins’ non-fat lattes with whole milk because he felt that they were too skinny. Baristas at starbucks, and other coffee places, are confessing to switching out the type of milk ordered with other types of milk depending on what they think the customer needs. For example, baristas have admitted to using whole milk for customers who are too skinny, and skim milk for those they thought were too fat, regardless of whether the customer ordered non-fat or not.
MY THOUGHTS: This is disturbing news. As a part of the chunky girl population, I spend most of my waking moments feeling as if I am being judged for not being tiny and stick-like. So now I learn that I can’t even walk into a coffee shop and order a latte without some dumbass stranger deciding and judging what type of milk my body needs? WTF? I could have an overactive prostate! Er… I mean thyroid gland. I could have an overactive thyroid gland that needs the extra calories that 2% milk gets me! If I die because the starbucks barista didn’t give me the required calories for my overactive thyroid gland, you better believe I’m coming back to kick some ass. Not to point out the obvious but a barista = a barista. A barista is not a doctor, specialist, scientist, researcher, and therefore forfeits any misconceived and ill-advised right –no matter how much they believe they are entitled- to look at a person and place them in neat categories like “FAT = low fat milk” versus “SKINNY = whole milk”. Until a barista shows me that specialist degree indicating that yes, he/she is qualified to make recommendations on what my body should have, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND MAKE MY GODDAMN COFFEE THE WAY I ORDERED.
There is a trust between a customer and his/her barista! I trust that when I go to a coffee shop, I will get what I ordered. Similarly, when I go to a restaurant, regardless of how bitchy my waitress or waiter is, I trust that he/she will not spit in my food. You’re a barista for fucks sakes, try not to alienate the customers that, for all intents and purposes, give you a reason to get paid because here’s a simple truth: no customers = no job.
I leave this topic with a final thought: if you are a male, are you still a barista? Or would you be a baristo? Baristar?
2) From IMDB: Actor Terrence Howard has proved his credentials as the ultimate over-protective father - he threatened to kill his daughter Aubrey's teenage boyfriend. The Iron Man star didn't appreciate his 14-year-old daughter dating a classmate he disapproves of, and "intervened" by forcing her to ditch the unfavorable suitor. He says, "She's supposedly in love with some guy. I made her break up with him and I've threatened to kill him. I was like, you picked a green fruit from the tree that's far from ripe." And Howard ensures he keeps a tight-leash on his beloved kids - warning Aubrey she will be cut out of any future inheritance if she is not "obedient". He tells his daughter, "I've set a lot of things aside for you, but those things are only yours as long as you're obedient to me." However, the actor has put a crafty plan into action to make sure the teenager doesn't fall back into her unsuitable relationship. He adds, "She's OK now. Though, I'm sure he's still kind of her boyfriend. This summer I'll take her off to another country where her phone won't work, and he'll start dating someone else."
MY THOUGHTS: I’m frightened of Terrence Howard. Really, really frightened. Pair this with his previous statements about women having to be sanitary you know, down there, and about how he wouldn’t date a woman unless she had toilet paper AND wipes for this purpose. My conclusion? Terrance Howard is a giant freak who needs a publicist to duct tape his mouth during interviews. I feel ill remembering a time when I really liked him as an actor and supported his career.
Another Terrance Howard classic: “If a relationship is built on sexuality, it won’t last long. Now I’m completely chaste through a relationship unless I get married. I don’t believe in premarital sex. It enabled me to date three or four women at the same time, because as long as I wasn’t having sex with them, I could always just walk away. There were some [past girlfriends] who pushed for sex, and sometimes they won. Afterward, I would feel unclean, like I’d compromised my own values. So I would have to let them go because they didn’t help me to be a stronger person.”
3) An analysis of gloves used in doctor’s offices, usually for pap smears, indicated that some of the gloves have holes in them. In addition, what was previously believed to be impurities and imperfections in the latex, (when viewed under a microscope) ended up being flies with wings still attached, and other larvae.
MY THOUGHTS: Hm… this tidbit makes me sad. If it wasn’t bad enough getting a pap smear, try having some fly larvae and wings spread around your wahoo-hoo. So gross.
MY THOUGHTS: This is disturbing news. As a part of the chunky girl population, I spend most of my waking moments feeling as if I am being judged for not being tiny and stick-like. So now I learn that I can’t even walk into a coffee shop and order a latte without some dumbass stranger deciding and judging what type of milk my body needs? WTF? I could have an overactive prostate! Er… I mean thyroid gland. I could have an overactive thyroid gland that needs the extra calories that 2% milk gets me! If I die because the starbucks barista didn’t give me the required calories for my overactive thyroid gland, you better believe I’m coming back to kick some ass. Not to point out the obvious but a barista = a barista. A barista is not a doctor, specialist, scientist, researcher, and therefore forfeits any misconceived and ill-advised right –no matter how much they believe they are entitled- to look at a person and place them in neat categories like “FAT = low fat milk” versus “SKINNY = whole milk”. Until a barista shows me that specialist degree indicating that yes, he/she is qualified to make recommendations on what my body should have, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND MAKE MY GODDAMN COFFEE THE WAY I ORDERED.
There is a trust between a customer and his/her barista! I trust that when I go to a coffee shop, I will get what I ordered. Similarly, when I go to a restaurant, regardless of how bitchy my waitress or waiter is, I trust that he/she will not spit in my food. You’re a barista for fucks sakes, try not to alienate the customers that, for all intents and purposes, give you a reason to get paid because here’s a simple truth: no customers = no job.
I leave this topic with a final thought: if you are a male, are you still a barista? Or would you be a baristo? Baristar?
2) From IMDB: Actor Terrence Howard has proved his credentials as the ultimate over-protective father - he threatened to kill his daughter Aubrey's teenage boyfriend. The Iron Man star didn't appreciate his 14-year-old daughter dating a classmate he disapproves of, and "intervened" by forcing her to ditch the unfavorable suitor. He says, "She's supposedly in love with some guy. I made her break up with him and I've threatened to kill him. I was like, you picked a green fruit from the tree that's far from ripe." And Howard ensures he keeps a tight-leash on his beloved kids - warning Aubrey she will be cut out of any future inheritance if she is not "obedient". He tells his daughter, "I've set a lot of things aside for you, but those things are only yours as long as you're obedient to me." However, the actor has put a crafty plan into action to make sure the teenager doesn't fall back into her unsuitable relationship. He adds, "She's OK now. Though, I'm sure he's still kind of her boyfriend. This summer I'll take her off to another country where her phone won't work, and he'll start dating someone else."
MY THOUGHTS: I’m frightened of Terrence Howard. Really, really frightened. Pair this with his previous statements about women having to be sanitary you know, down there, and about how he wouldn’t date a woman unless she had toilet paper AND wipes for this purpose. My conclusion? Terrance Howard is a giant freak who needs a publicist to duct tape his mouth during interviews. I feel ill remembering a time when I really liked him as an actor and supported his career.
Another Terrance Howard classic: “If a relationship is built on sexuality, it won’t last long. Now I’m completely chaste through a relationship unless I get married. I don’t believe in premarital sex. It enabled me to date three or four women at the same time, because as long as I wasn’t having sex with them, I could always just walk away. There were some [past girlfriends] who pushed for sex, and sometimes they won. Afterward, I would feel unclean, like I’d compromised my own values. So I would have to let them go because they didn’t help me to be a stronger person.”
3) An analysis of gloves used in doctor’s offices, usually for pap smears, indicated that some of the gloves have holes in them. In addition, what was previously believed to be impurities and imperfections in the latex, (when viewed under a microscope) ended up being flies with wings still attached, and other larvae.
MY THOUGHTS: Hm… this tidbit makes me sad. If it wasn’t bad enough getting a pap smear, try having some fly larvae and wings spread around your wahoo-hoo. So gross.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Same old shit.
So, we are heading into the halfway point of 2008, and my analysis of 2008 so far?
IT FUCKING SUCKS.
In fact, the only year of my life that hasn’t sucked is 1990. Because that is the year my sister discovered Tommy Page, which incidentally is the year that I discovered Tommy Page through my sister. That and 2003 because that was the release year of Rise Against’s “Revolutions Per Minute” which essentially changed my life.
Here’s why 2008 has sucked:
1) No rise against show (especially if I am not taking the trek down for Vans this year). Related: no beat union at Vans, no alexisonfire show.
2) No Veronica Mars season 4.
3) Overabundance of douchebags and douchebaggery behavior.
4) The age of the quarterlife and the decline into pretentiousness.
5) Who can forget the fact that 2008 is almost half done, and I am still working at the Foundation?
6) Sleep? WHERE?
7) I’d hate to admit it, but the King seems to be letting me down lately. I’m sorry girl, I still love you, but you’ve been leaking and cracking, and I have to tell the truth. I am disappointed in you.
8) Dogs, dogs, everywhere. Dog shit, dog pee, dog freak outs, dog barking, I FUCKING HATE DOGS.
9) Money? Where?
10) Same old shit, different day/year.
I am so tired. I need to go on an extended crazy leave.
IT FUCKING SUCKS.
In fact, the only year of my life that hasn’t sucked is 1990. Because that is the year my sister discovered Tommy Page, which incidentally is the year that I discovered Tommy Page through my sister. That and 2003 because that was the release year of Rise Against’s “Revolutions Per Minute” which essentially changed my life.
Here’s why 2008 has sucked:
1) No rise against show (especially if I am not taking the trek down for Vans this year). Related: no beat union at Vans, no alexisonfire show.
2) No Veronica Mars season 4.
3) Overabundance of douchebags and douchebaggery behavior.
4) The age of the quarterlife and the decline into pretentiousness.
5) Who can forget the fact that 2008 is almost half done, and I am still working at the Foundation?
6) Sleep? WHERE?
7) I’d hate to admit it, but the King seems to be letting me down lately. I’m sorry girl, I still love you, but you’ve been leaking and cracking, and I have to tell the truth. I am disappointed in you.
8) Dogs, dogs, everywhere. Dog shit, dog pee, dog freak outs, dog barking, I FUCKING HATE DOGS.
9) Money? Where?
10) Same old shit, different day/year.
I am so tired. I need to go on an extended crazy leave.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I'll take "Rhymes with Fear" for $400 Alex.
Today as I was sitting at my desk working (I swear, really!), a giant lightning strike caused the building lights to flicker and turned off my computer. Luckily I wasn’t working on this blog entry, only work, and didn’t lose anything too precious. Someone I work with mentioned that the lights turned off while she was walking in the pedway, and I immediately thought “Oh shitz! I’d pee my pants if that happened to me”. Why? Because I’m a firm believer in the power of Depends? Maybe. Or could it be because I am deathly afraid of the dark? That sounds a little more accurate. Yes, there you have it.
I, Miss Nihilist, am afraid of the dark. I sleep with a nightlight.
Go ahead, laugh, get your jollys out. Yes, I’m 25 years old. No, I don’t suck on a pacifier when I go to sleep. Yes, I’m a Toys R Us Kid.
I am afraid of the dark. But I am also afraid of spiders (a fear that is universal because it is age-appropriate regardless of how old you are-HA!). But it has got me thinking about fears. Pretend this is my Halloween entry (7 months late, or 5 months early – you decide: glass half empty or full), what are you afraid of? I am obsessively, mindlessly, and deathly afraid of the following things:
1) Clowns, dolls, masks, mimes. Basically anything with a painted on face that doesn’t change.
2) Old people. They really make me uncomfortable. I realize this makes me ageist, and frankly I am not comfortable subscribing to any “-isms”, but old people make me even more uncomfortable. I think it’s the way they smell, and how frail they are. I don’t plan on tackling them, but it still freaks me out all the same.
3) Emotional, caring, potentially tender moments with my parents. Don’t go there! It is scientifically proven that evolution has made Chinese people devoid of tender emotions. Don’t make us go against our nature. It’s like asking a snake to make you pancakes. Im-fucking-possible!
4) Heights. ‘nuff said.
5) Throwing stuff out. You never know when you might need it! You want to see my report card from Grade 1? You got it! Nevermind that is says I was difficult, even back then. You want to see a report I wrote in grade 11, you got it! However, if you want to see some letters from my internet “boyfriend” who went to jail, you’re out of luck.
6) Being a boiled frog for the rest of my life.
I, Miss Nihilist, am afraid of the dark. I sleep with a nightlight.
Go ahead, laugh, get your jollys out. Yes, I’m 25 years old. No, I don’t suck on a pacifier when I go to sleep. Yes, I’m a Toys R Us Kid.
I am afraid of the dark. But I am also afraid of spiders (a fear that is universal because it is age-appropriate regardless of how old you are-HA!). But it has got me thinking about fears. Pretend this is my Halloween entry (7 months late, or 5 months early – you decide: glass half empty or full), what are you afraid of? I am obsessively, mindlessly, and deathly afraid of the following things:
1) Clowns, dolls, masks, mimes. Basically anything with a painted on face that doesn’t change.
2) Old people. They really make me uncomfortable. I realize this makes me ageist, and frankly I am not comfortable subscribing to any “-isms”, but old people make me even more uncomfortable. I think it’s the way they smell, and how frail they are. I don’t plan on tackling them, but it still freaks me out all the same.
3) Emotional, caring, potentially tender moments with my parents. Don’t go there! It is scientifically proven that evolution has made Chinese people devoid of tender emotions. Don’t make us go against our nature. It’s like asking a snake to make you pancakes. Im-fucking-possible!
4) Heights. ‘nuff said.
5) Throwing stuff out. You never know when you might need it! You want to see my report card from Grade 1? You got it! Nevermind that is says I was difficult, even back then. You want to see a report I wrote in grade 11, you got it! However, if you want to see some letters from my internet “boyfriend” who went to jail, you’re out of luck.
6) Being a boiled frog for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Shoot me, shoot me now.
I hate my life between the hours of 8:00-4:00, M-F (not including stat holidays).
Friday, May 16, 2008
Yummy, yummy, I've got lychee in my tummy...
I'm not a drunk, but for cylon shooters and Helo, I'd vomit in a toiletbowl like the best of them!
If at first you don't succeed...
Sigh. Dating is hard.
I’ve been seeing someone. Or at least I was. Lovely, beautiful girl. Funny, considerate, and oh, so much fun! Her name is Bella, and she has this crazy blue hair that I just want to dig my face into and pet! I could really feel myself falling for her.
She told me last night that she thinks we should just be friends. Apparently, I am considered a Voodoo Doll, and she is part of the String Doll Gang. She doesn’t think her friends and family would approve since they consider themselves to be the superior version. They claim my kind is poorly constructed and flimsy. I don’t get it! Aren’t we all string? Isn’t it all the same?
I feel pretty sad. I’ve been hopping to and fro, and I’ve eaten all the comfort flesh in my freezer. Right now I don’t think I could eat any more flesh and blood soup. I don’t know what to do. Sigh. Even Yanni isn’t cutting it for me.
I’m a Voodoo Doll; She’s part of the String Doll Gang. Can you imagine? Isn’t that discrimination? Yeah, yeah, I think it is! And didn’t I explicitly say “no racists or discriminators”? Hmmph! Bitch may have been funny but is clearly dumb or illiterate. Perhaps both. And Nos-Chin does not moon over a bitch who can’t read!
Stupid string doll gang! Who do those assholes think they are?
I’ve been seeing someone. Or at least I was. Lovely, beautiful girl. Funny, considerate, and oh, so much fun! Her name is Bella, and she has this crazy blue hair that I just want to dig my face into and pet! I could really feel myself falling for her.
She told me last night that she thinks we should just be friends. Apparently, I am considered a Voodoo Doll, and she is part of the String Doll Gang. She doesn’t think her friends and family would approve since they consider themselves to be the superior version. They claim my kind is poorly constructed and flimsy. I don’t get it! Aren’t we all string? Isn’t it all the same?
I feel pretty sad. I’ve been hopping to and fro, and I’ve eaten all the comfort flesh in my freezer. Right now I don’t think I could eat any more flesh and blood soup. I don’t know what to do. Sigh. Even Yanni isn’t cutting it for me.
I’m a Voodoo Doll; She’s part of the String Doll Gang. Can you imagine? Isn’t that discrimination? Yeah, yeah, I think it is! And didn’t I explicitly say “no racists or discriminators”? Hmmph! Bitch may have been funny but is clearly dumb or illiterate. Perhaps both. And Nos-Chin does not moon over a bitch who can’t read!
Stupid string doll gang! Who do those assholes think they are?
Thursday, May 15, 2008
How do you like them apples?
Helo is the moral compass of Battlestar Galactica. Foot, mouth, EAT IT.Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Start off with a joke...
I don’t know about you, but I am the type of person who is unable to speak to people I don’t know. I clam up, my palms get sweaty, eyes start rolling into the back of my head, spit dribbles out of my mouth…. It’s not a pretty sight. I am a social disgrace. It’s disgusting. In fact, most mornings, I wake up completely perplexed as to how I have friends beyond me, myself, and I! On a good day I can count up to 2 people as friends! TWO!
What people like me need are handy conversation starters. Just something to get the ball rolling, increase the comfort threshold, and before you know it, you’ll be the life of the party! People will be lining up to receive your business card party favours. So below is my crib list. I fully plan on studying up on conversation tips and maybe (just maybe!), I will be able to count 4 people as friends! FOUR! I’m rubbing my hands together in greedy anticipation….!
1) “That’s a lovely dress! My mother has a mumu just like it!” (tip: you have to touch the sleeve of the dress in order to show your sincerity. But just a light touch, anything further and you’ll have to tip the poor woman for the experience)
2) “Hello sir, I really like your hair colour. Is it a toupee, or out of a box?” (tip: pointing at the hair is especially effective)
3) This is for the party hostess/host: “Mhmmmm! That platter arrangement was delicious! It looked like cat vomit, but it sure tasted nothing like it!”.
4) “Wow! You sure are brave for wearing those pants!”. (perfect for children, men, women, animals, etc….. I call this the all-inclusive conversation starter)
5) “Oh boy! With the way you’re spreading your legs, you should be a gymnast!” (tip: smile brightly after making this statement)
6) “You look familiar. Didn’t I give you money behind the Mac’s store last week?”. Alternatively, if the potential friend is older, you can say: “You look familiar! Didn’t you sell me crack 6 years ago?”.
7) “Do you always wear this much makeup? Did [host name] forget to tell me that this was a costume party?”.
8) “Christ you can open your mouth wide! Have you thought about a career in the porn industry? I think you could give deep throat a whole new meaning….”
9) “Hi [insert name]! [so and so – insert name] has told me so much about you!”. Then follow it up with a story that so and so may have told you about the person. Like, “[so and so] told me about the time you pissed your pants at work and had to wash them in the sink!”, OR “[so and so] told me that you used to be a dumb whore back in the day! I guess not much as changed, eh?!”.
Genius. With these tips you will be armed to be the centre of attention at the party. I have tons more tips, just contact me to receive the rest (only $9.99 plus GST).
What people like me need are handy conversation starters. Just something to get the ball rolling, increase the comfort threshold, and before you know it, you’ll be the life of the party! People will be lining up to receive your business card party favours. So below is my crib list. I fully plan on studying up on conversation tips and maybe (just maybe!), I will be able to count 4 people as friends! FOUR! I’m rubbing my hands together in greedy anticipation….!
1) “That’s a lovely dress! My mother has a mumu just like it!” (tip: you have to touch the sleeve of the dress in order to show your sincerity. But just a light touch, anything further and you’ll have to tip the poor woman for the experience)
2) “Hello sir, I really like your hair colour. Is it a toupee, or out of a box?” (tip: pointing at the hair is especially effective)
3) This is for the party hostess/host: “Mhmmmm! That platter arrangement was delicious! It looked like cat vomit, but it sure tasted nothing like it!”.
4) “Wow! You sure are brave for wearing those pants!”. (perfect for children, men, women, animals, etc….. I call this the all-inclusive conversation starter)
5) “Oh boy! With the way you’re spreading your legs, you should be a gymnast!” (tip: smile brightly after making this statement)
6) “You look familiar. Didn’t I give you money behind the Mac’s store last week?”. Alternatively, if the potential friend is older, you can say: “You look familiar! Didn’t you sell me crack 6 years ago?”.
7) “Do you always wear this much makeup? Did [host name] forget to tell me that this was a costume party?”.
8) “Christ you can open your mouth wide! Have you thought about a career in the porn industry? I think you could give deep throat a whole new meaning….”
9) “Hi [insert name]! [so and so – insert name] has told me so much about you!”. Then follow it up with a story that so and so may have told you about the person. Like, “[so and so] told me about the time you pissed your pants at work and had to wash them in the sink!”, OR “[so and so] told me that you used to be a dumb whore back in the day! I guess not much as changed, eh?!”.
Genius. With these tips you will be armed to be the centre of attention at the party. I have tons more tips, just contact me to receive the rest (only $9.99 plus GST).
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Young-at-heart man looking for true love....
NAME: Nosferatu-Chin-Chin
SEX: Male
NATIONALITY: Chinese
LOOKING FOR: Relationship, fling, friendship
AGE: It’s hard to keep track these days. Ballpark figure: 780 years old?
HEIGHT: 2” (though ladies, you know what they say about short men….)
INTERESTS: sucking blood, immortal life, long walks by the sea, Oprah, Yanni during a bath, and cannibalism- the usual stuff.
My name is Nosferatu-Chin Chin, though my friends call me Nos-Chin for short. I realize my picture doesn’t do me justice but I am looking for a lovely young lady who doesn’t mind that I am a decaying Chinese vampire who needs to hop from place to place. No racists or discriminators please! Preferably open-minded and tolerant, with a smoking bod. Must like strawberries and Yanni.
I am clean, polite, and like good books. I’m especially a fan of the latest Oprah book club pick (and Danielle Steele can do no wrong). I keep my crypt in impeccable shape. You’ll never have to worry about stained sheets or clogged toilets when you stay over. Sound sleepers only! Then it’s much easier to ignore the screams coming from the corner. I am very thoughtful and considerate.
I am unable to tolerate sunlight, and only come out during the night, so please only contact me if you are a like-minded night owl. And for the last time, I have a severe allergy to UV rays so no, I will not be your date to your sister’s beach wedding in Hawaii.
For the sake of honesty, I confess that I only subsist on a diet of human blood and flesh, but I promise I don’t bite (unless of course you like that sort of thing. In which case, definitely contact me!)! You’ll never have to meet my parents (I ate them 800 years ago), so you will never feel parental pressure in a relationship with me.
I promise that it will be nothing but fun with Mr. Nos-Chin! Though sometimes when those pesky vampire hunters find me and place a scroll paper on my head, I might be incapacitated indefinitely for a period of time (Note to self: perhaps that should be a 4th date confession….), but I promise you baby, I’ll always come back to you.
So again, that’s Nos-Chin (no last name), Reference #34679. Nos-Chin will blow your mind and dance you around the world. I’m just waiting for that special lady. It might be you, I’m waiting for your call baby.
SEX: Male
NATIONALITY: Chinese
LOOKING FOR: Relationship, fling, friendship
AGE: It’s hard to keep track these days. Ballpark figure: 780 years old?
HEIGHT: 2” (though ladies, you know what they say about short men….)
INTERESTS: sucking blood, immortal life, long walks by the sea, Oprah, Yanni during a bath, and cannibalism- the usual stuff.
My name is Nosferatu-Chin Chin, though my friends call me Nos-Chin for short. I realize my picture doesn’t do me justice but I am looking for a lovely young lady who doesn’t mind that I am a decaying Chinese vampire who needs to hop from place to place. No racists or discriminators please! Preferably open-minded and tolerant, with a smoking bod. Must like strawberries and Yanni.
I am clean, polite, and like good books. I’m especially a fan of the latest Oprah book club pick (and Danielle Steele can do no wrong). I keep my crypt in impeccable shape. You’ll never have to worry about stained sheets or clogged toilets when you stay over. Sound sleepers only! Then it’s much easier to ignore the screams coming from the corner. I am very thoughtful and considerate.
I am unable to tolerate sunlight, and only come out during the night, so please only contact me if you are a like-minded night owl. And for the last time, I have a severe allergy to UV rays so no, I will not be your date to your sister’s beach wedding in Hawaii.
For the sake of honesty, I confess that I only subsist on a diet of human blood and flesh, but I promise I don’t bite (unless of course you like that sort of thing. In which case, definitely contact me!)! You’ll never have to meet my parents (I ate them 800 years ago), so you will never feel parental pressure in a relationship with me.
I promise that it will be nothing but fun with Mr. Nos-Chin! Though sometimes when those pesky vampire hunters find me and place a scroll paper on my head, I might be incapacitated indefinitely for a period of time (Note to self: perhaps that should be a 4th date confession….), but I promise you baby, I’ll always come back to you.
So again, that’s Nos-Chin (no last name), Reference #34679. Nos-Chin will blow your mind and dance you around the world. I’m just waiting for that special lady. It might be you, I’m waiting for your call baby.
Friday, May 09, 2008
A wise man once said to me: "Chinese is as Chinese does"
Happy birthday me. You are 25 years old today. So here is my letter from me to you, complete with wise and sage advice:
You main priority is to avoid becoming a pretentious mid-20’s person. Or slow down (or halt altogether) your already existing pretentiousness, and steep decline into mid 20’s pretentiousness. I am deathly afraid that you will be part of the mid-20’s crowd who shops at Pottery Barn/Finesse-type furniture shops, wears shawls, and likes to bemoan the lack of good red wine. So repeat after me: I will not, at any time in the future, swish old grape juice in my wineglass (to release oxygen thingie-ma-bobbies), smell the grape juice, or do a “pre-test” before professing my approval of said drink. Also, I will never squish my feet into painful mousetrap-like shoes that taper off into a duncecap, get a large leather handbag with a cosmetic bag, and walk around with sunglasses perched on my head. To do so is to secure your entrance into pretentious mid-20’s life. It’s like a cult; once you’ve entered into quarterlife pretentiousness, you never get out. Then it’s cyanide-dosed kool-aid for relief. Better avoid it altogether.
Secondly, simply because you are 25 does not mean that life is now marriage and babies. While many people are about marriage and babies, you are going to be more than that. Life will be more than that. If you ever feel that life is turning into marriage and babies, switch your facebook status to “married”, and steal some kids for a few days. But realize that it is a temporary madness and return stolen kids when the moment passes.
Thirdly, it is a given fact that you are 10 years older than the average crowd age at shows now. Respect that truth and try to age gracefully. Don’t jump into the crowd and try to get down with your bad self. Flailing arms, and kick flips in a crowd of teenagers makes you a cougar who is trying to hang onto her youth. Just sit near the back and try not to make eye contact. And don’t think about the WENUS (Weekly Estimated Net Usage Systems) reports at work, or the bad state of the ANUS (Annual Net Usage Statistics). Try to repress the yawns and the knowledge that you are up way past your bedtime. And don’t fret, you can take your daily Metamucil dosage when you get home.
Fourthly, get used to the fact that sayings like “when I was a kid…”, “kids nowadays…”, “I remember the clapper!....”, will all become commonplace in your everyday conversations. Remember Pogs? Sadly, so do i. Remember NKOTB? Or Backstreet Boys? Again, me too. Remember when I used to be cool? No? Yeah, you’re right, that was way back never.
Lastly, keep trying. One day soon, I swear you will be able to memorize the numbers of pi to the 999th million (3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679 – keep trying!) and learn how to spell “Super-cali-fragil-istic-espi-ali-docious” without having to look it up. Keep trying! You’ll eventually reach greatness.
You main priority is to avoid becoming a pretentious mid-20’s person. Or slow down (or halt altogether) your already existing pretentiousness, and steep decline into mid 20’s pretentiousness. I am deathly afraid that you will be part of the mid-20’s crowd who shops at Pottery Barn/Finesse-type furniture shops, wears shawls, and likes to bemoan the lack of good red wine. So repeat after me: I will not, at any time in the future, swish old grape juice in my wineglass (to release oxygen thingie-ma-bobbies), smell the grape juice, or do a “pre-test” before professing my approval of said drink. Also, I will never squish my feet into painful mousetrap-like shoes that taper off into a duncecap, get a large leather handbag with a cosmetic bag, and walk around with sunglasses perched on my head. To do so is to secure your entrance into pretentious mid-20’s life. It’s like a cult; once you’ve entered into quarterlife pretentiousness, you never get out. Then it’s cyanide-dosed kool-aid for relief. Better avoid it altogether.
Secondly, simply because you are 25 does not mean that life is now marriage and babies. While many people are about marriage and babies, you are going to be more than that. Life will be more than that. If you ever feel that life is turning into marriage and babies, switch your facebook status to “married”, and steal some kids for a few days. But realize that it is a temporary madness and return stolen kids when the moment passes.
Thirdly, it is a given fact that you are 10 years older than the average crowd age at shows now. Respect that truth and try to age gracefully. Don’t jump into the crowd and try to get down with your bad self. Flailing arms, and kick flips in a crowd of teenagers makes you a cougar who is trying to hang onto her youth. Just sit near the back and try not to make eye contact. And don’t think about the WENUS (Weekly Estimated Net Usage Systems) reports at work, or the bad state of the ANUS (Annual Net Usage Statistics). Try to repress the yawns and the knowledge that you are up way past your bedtime. And don’t fret, you can take your daily Metamucil dosage when you get home.
Fourthly, get used to the fact that sayings like “when I was a kid…”, “kids nowadays…”, “I remember the clapper!....”, will all become commonplace in your everyday conversations. Remember Pogs? Sadly, so do i. Remember NKOTB? Or Backstreet Boys? Again, me too. Remember when I used to be cool? No? Yeah, you’re right, that was way back never.
Lastly, keep trying. One day soon, I swear you will be able to memorize the numbers of pi to the 999th million (3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679 – keep trying!) and learn how to spell “Super-cali-fragil-istic-espi-ali-docious” without having to look it up. Keep trying! You’ll eventually reach greatness.
Thursday, May 08, 2008
The Philosophy of Laura Part Deux
Here are some more life truths (probably my last as a young person. Bye old life. Hello old age! I barely knew ya):
1) Coffeemate is not a substitute for creamer. Mornings where you use coffeemate are mornings where you regret getting out of bed. Similarly, workdays without coffee suck like a vacuum cleaner and then some.
2) Upper Crust potato salad is worth being chubby and obese for.
3) With the exception of doctor-recommended circumstances, there are no excuses for wearing sunglasses indoors. Or at night. You’re not Tom Cruise in Risky Business, you’re not a motorcycle driving vampire, you’re not in a 1980’s Corey Hart video. DON’T DO IT.
4) Don’t double dip in the communal food bowl. Double dippers have no friends. It’s disgusting and ignorant. You might as well walk up to people and spit into their mouths; it’s essentially the same thing. “Hi, I’m Laura! How you doing? *spoot*, nice to meet ya”. And yes, the *spoot* is my way of verbally spitting. Spoot on you all.
5) Dishwashers aren't for washing dishes. They hold tupperware. I know, the term DISHWASHER is misleading. Lots of people get confused.
1) Coffeemate is not a substitute for creamer. Mornings where you use coffeemate are mornings where you regret getting out of bed. Similarly, workdays without coffee suck like a vacuum cleaner and then some.
2) Upper Crust potato salad is worth being chubby and obese for.
3) With the exception of doctor-recommended circumstances, there are no excuses for wearing sunglasses indoors. Or at night. You’re not Tom Cruise in Risky Business, you’re not a motorcycle driving vampire, you’re not in a 1980’s Corey Hart video. DON’T DO IT.
4) Don’t double dip in the communal food bowl. Double dippers have no friends. It’s disgusting and ignorant. You might as well walk up to people and spit into their mouths; it’s essentially the same thing. “Hi, I’m Laura! How you doing? *spoot*, nice to meet ya”. And yes, the *spoot* is my way of verbally spitting. Spoot on you all.
5) Dishwashers aren't for washing dishes. They hold tupperware. I know, the term DISHWASHER is misleading. Lots of people get confused.
Down with football players and Germans!!!
I want this man to move far, far away. I want to paint a target over this man’s face. I want to fill his truck bed with garbage compost. I want to slash his tires. I want his house broken into, and his belongings lit on fire. I want him arrested and sent to prison for several years.
Above all, I want him to smother in dog shit and die. And even then, he deserves far worse.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
God Bless Us Everyone!
Current mood: grateful. Today I am grateful. I am grateful for beat union, for the new Kelley Armstrong book, for the promise of two nights of sushi eats, for my wonderful readers, and castlevania. Most of all, I am grateful that I don’t have pink eye.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
RIP
Current mood: Mournful.
If I was more skilled in technobabble, I’d add the current mood gizmo and do it electronically (then you lucky readers could see emoticons! Don’t know what sad looks like? Never fear! Emoticons are here!), but until then, my typing will have to suffice.
As you can deduce, I am feeling mournful. I am thinking about things that were cut down while they were in their prime, and no matter how much time passes, I still seem to be grieving for the loss. Not to sound like a party pooper, but I feel bummed. What do you think the emoticon for bummed is? An upside down seagull line?
If I was more skilled in technobabble, I’d add the current mood gizmo and do it electronically (then you lucky readers could see emoticons! Don’t know what sad looks like? Never fear! Emoticons are here!), but until then, my typing will have to suffice.
As you can deduce, I am feeling mournful. I am thinking about things that were cut down while they were in their prime, and no matter how much time passes, I still seem to be grieving for the loss. Not to sound like a party pooper, but I feel bummed. What do you think the emoticon for bummed is? An upside down seagull line?
Monday, May 05, 2008
Dead yet?
To honour the end of my Lord of the Rings marathon, I present you with the following:
Things I learned from watching all 3 Lord of the Rings movies:
1) It is completely unnecessary to check whether characters are in fact dead. If any character appears to have any sort of ailment at all (including but not limited to ingrown hairs, paper cuts, and amputated limbs), assume that they are dead and proceed with the following:
- Burn them alive OR
- Leave them for orcs to violate
2) It is perfectly normal to have your eye colour change from brown to blue and back again. Not to worry if this happens, you’re still the prettiest character there is.
3) If you are the lowly gardener, don’t expect any accolades from anyone. Ignore the fact that you did all the work, and the other guy just laid there and whined. Frodo will always get the glory. It doesn’t pay to be Robin to someone’s Batman.
4) If you really want to get someone’s attention, yell “FRO-DO” in slow motion. Guaranteed someone will turn your way.
5) If you are Faramir, you’re automatically 150% cooler than any other character there is.
6) Wearing ridiculously ugly head ornaments to see the love of your life after a lengthy separation is a-ok! It’s even encouraged!
Surprisingly enough, I learned more watching 4 movies of Saw than I ever did during the 11 hours of Lord of the Rings. Go figure!
My current mood: I want to clutch my Dexter dvd boxset to my chest and hiss at people who try to come near. “MY preciousssssssssssssss”………
Things I learned from watching all 3 Lord of the Rings movies:
1) It is completely unnecessary to check whether characters are in fact dead. If any character appears to have any sort of ailment at all (including but not limited to ingrown hairs, paper cuts, and amputated limbs), assume that they are dead and proceed with the following:
- Burn them alive OR
- Leave them for orcs to violate
2) It is perfectly normal to have your eye colour change from brown to blue and back again. Not to worry if this happens, you’re still the prettiest character there is.
3) If you are the lowly gardener, don’t expect any accolades from anyone. Ignore the fact that you did all the work, and the other guy just laid there and whined. Frodo will always get the glory. It doesn’t pay to be Robin to someone’s Batman.
4) If you really want to get someone’s attention, yell “FRO-DO” in slow motion. Guaranteed someone will turn your way.
5) If you are Faramir, you’re automatically 150% cooler than any other character there is.
6) Wearing ridiculously ugly head ornaments to see the love of your life after a lengthy separation is a-ok! It’s even encouraged!
Surprisingly enough, I learned more watching 4 movies of Saw than I ever did during the 11 hours of Lord of the Rings. Go figure!
My current mood: I want to clutch my Dexter dvd boxset to my chest and hiss at people who try to come near. “MY preciousssssssssssssss”………
Thursday, May 01, 2008
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