stupid grad students...

FYI, I was NOT at the Cal/USC game, so for once, that's not on me. Unfortunately, I was at the 49ers/Cardinals MNF game, so my curse has now gone pro.

Anyways, I was talking to my sister the other day and asked her what she was doing. Here was the answer: "I'm eating uncooked ramen out of the bag and drinking beer imported from a third world country that I'm pretty sure is expired. My roommate's drinking warm Coke from a two litter bottle that I found somewhere and eating 10 hard boiled eggs. We're watching this week's 'Real Chance of Love' for the third time because it makes us feel better since we just had office hours and the stupid kids keep showing up." I felt a mix of nostalgia and disgust that I hadn't felt since I watched the premiere of the new 90210. It seems that the Asian American Studies graduate department at UCLA is almost as selective about whom they let in as the Mech. E. department. I told her to get back to me when she's stealing a car during finals in order to tape a cardboard spoiler to the trunk.

add it up!

New movie idea: Add It Up! The story of a half-black, half-Asian boy, Malik Sounaphonaphong, whose parents are professional hip-hop dancers with dreams of him becoming the greatest b-boy of his generation. He does the dance thing, but his real love is math, in which he has a preternatural ability. Conflict arises when his dad catches him solving equations instead of practicing his flares, leading to the following exchange:

Thom: What are you doing son?
Malik: Uhhh...nothing dad. What's up?
Thom: Is that...math?
Malik: NO! I'm, you know, just mapping out my next routine.
Thom: Don't lie to me boy.
Malik: Sorry, dad. Yeah I'm doing math, but I like it.
Thom: Who needs math? Math didn't buy this house; popping and locking did. Where was math when I was selling crack to buy tap shoes? Where was math when your mom got dropped from that 2 Live Crew video? I've danced too hard and gone through rehab too many times to see you throw all your God given talent away on something as bitchass as math.
Malik: My bad. I'll try to stop.

A few days later, Malik is at a dance-off near the university when curiosity gets the better of him, and he sneaks into the math hall. While inside, he sees a group of students solving equations on the chalkboard.

Malik: What cha all doin'?
Patty: We're practicing for the DeMATHlon, it's a math competition for college students.
James (turning from the chalkboard): Are you lost kid? Can we help you find something?
Malik: You're the one who needs help. You're doing that shit all wrong.
James (laughing): What are you talking about? Like you know anything about fourth degree, nonlinear, differential equations.
Malik: You know what? You're really being a bitch right now. I was solving differential equations before you even knew what vector calculus was.

Malik goes up to the board and solves the equation easily. I would let you know what happens next, but I don't want to ruin the opening weekend box office. I'll let you know that it involves the line: "You can call me your derivative because I want to be tangent to your curves." THAT SHIT IS HOT SON! Add It Up! Watch for it!

and the streak continues

For those of you who haven't already blamed me, yes, I was at the Cal/UofA game, bringing my streak of road losses to 5 in a row. Einstein's definition of insanity is "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." Whatever, what does he know about the pains of being a Cal football fan? I'm still going to go to these games, even if my record is looking more and more like coyote v. roadrunner; poor guy, but who can blame him -- that bird looks delicious.

In other sporting news, I went to my first ever NHL game a couple of weeks ago, and shockingly it was really fun. It was completely unexpected: my team actually won, seven total goals were scored, there was a fight, and it was in San Jose but there were (relatively) no Asian people there. It's definitely one of those things that way better live than on TV, which is crazy because I'm a big advocate of using TV to escape the unbearable rigors of real life. If this continues, I might have to shed my elitist socialist agenda, find a hockey mom of my own, settle down on my ranch with my bible and my gun, and live next door to my alcholic best friend, Joe Six-Pack the Plumber.

stupid desert living...

So, I'm just sitting on my couch watching TV when I feel something rubbing against the back of my neck. Instead of just getting up and looking behind me, I decided it would be better to brush whatever it was blindly off with my left hand. Next thing I feel is a searing pain running through my ring finger, which causes me to jump out of my seat and flail my arms wildly as if fighting an invisible ghost. My finger in extreme pain, I look on the ground and see a scorpion. OMFG, did I just get stung by a scorpion? I grab the nearest blunt object, which of course is my trusty remote control and smash the shit out of the sonofabitch. Freaked out, I had enough sense to get some ice to put on my finger and Google "scorpion sting" with my one good hand. On the website, it says there are hundreds of scorpion species in Arizona, the most dangerous of which is the bark scorpion. Heh, what are the chances that the one that got me was that one (one out of hundreds, I would assume). There are pictures...OK, lets see what this guy looks like.
FUCK! By now, my arm is starting to feel numb and the finger is throbbing, even with the ice. I get the number for poison control and give them a call. The lady just tells me that this happens all the time (not reassuring), to keep ice on it (duh), and to take something for the pain. I tell her I don't have any Prozac, but apparently she's referring to the physical pain, not my deep-seeded emotional pain. We (I) laugh about the mix up. She then tells me to stop being a little bitch, to stop crying, to man up, to walk it off, to grow a pair, and many, many more cliches that I though inappropriate for the situation, but kept to myself for fear of further berating. I take her advice to heart and hang up. One restless night later, I wake up and the finger still freakin' hurts, but now it's also kinda numb, so at least I got that going for me...

gaydar

This blogging thing seems to be cutting into my sleeping and watching TV time. OK, movie idea #1: Gaydar. It’s about a gay man, Eli Whistler, who lives in a conservative Midwestern city (St. Louis, Omaha, or something like that since they’re all the same…). Tired of the lack of an active gay scene in his city, he invents a device (Gaydar) that allows the holder to detect others who also have the device, allowing gay people to covertly meet at normally “hetero” Midwestern activities (i.e. rodeos, monster truck rallies, etc.). At first, things go great, his invention is well-received by the gay community and reinvigorates the social scene. But things take a turn for the over dramatic when the device falls into the wrong hands (as devices like those almost always do), and someone starts using it to systematically (as opposed to haphazardly) eliminate gay people. Now it’s up to Eli and his new, sassy boyfriend, Kyle*, to find the person responsible and put an end to their reign of terror -- instead of just telling people to stop using Gaydar, which would dramatically cut into Gaydar Inc.’s profits.

It’s got blockbuster written all over it. On a side note, the main character’s name is a reference to Eli Whitney, who invented the cotton gin in hopes that it would reduce the need for slave labor in the production of cotton, but instead, it lead to a boom in cotton production that directly led to an increase in the use of slaves (d’oh). Whitney is also credited with the invention of interchangeable parts, which, as everyone knows, eventually led to the creation of Mr. Potatohead and his drag pseudonym, the appropriately named, Mrs. Potatohead.

ah don't want your life

Just when I thought there was nothing McCain could do to win me over, I came upon this AP photo:
The photo on the right is of course the Republican VP nominee, Sara Palin. The one on the left is Mrs. Davis, the sex ed teacher/stripper from the classic movie Varsity Blues. Incredible! I like the comparison because it appeals to my sense of irony since if she were really a sex ed teacher, then maybe she wouldn't have to answer questions about pregnant 17 year olds. Now even though her beliefs are pretty much in total opposition to mine, my internal presidential poll as moved up 4% for McCain, bringing his total to an impressive 8%.

sunday: football and God

First things first: Cal 66 Washington State 3. Wow, I can't even win that big when I play the video game and cheat, which is redundant since you have to cheat in that game if only to counter the computer's cheating.

On that note, I've added to the list of things I need to do before I die: attend a (Cal) game at every stadium in the Pac-10. Here's my progress so far:

Arizona -- Done. Cal loses, costing us a Rose Bowl birth. (I'll be back this year)
ASU -- Done. Cal loses in the middle of their slide in 2007, where we lost 6 out of 7 games.
Cal -- Done. My senior year, we went 1-10.
Stanford -- Ashamed to say I have yet to go to a Big Game on the farm.
Oregon -- Next year
OSU -- After I figure out where Corvallis is...
UCLA -- Done. Lost in OT in 100 degree heat.
USC -- Maybe this year, anyone wanna go?
Washington -- Eventually
WSU -- Sure, I'll travel hundreds of miles to the middle of nowhere to watch the worst team in the league play.

For those of you who will be willing to pay me to stop going to games, I cannot be bought (unless it's a lot of money or at least a 6 piece chicken nuggets).

Now to change the subject to something much less enjoyable. Instead of using my time more wisely pursuing such endeavors as playing video games and watching pornography, I've been doing a lot of reading. I'm currently reading "The Year of Living Biblically," in which the author tries to live a year of his life as close to a literal interpretation of the bible as possible. It's a good book and has a lot of random trivia. The bible's a random book, even if you ignore all the stuff that contradicts the other stuff. I have a new favorite section Deuteronomy 25:11-12:

If two men, a man and his countryman, are struggling together, and the wife of one comes near to deliver her husband from the hand of the one who is striking him, and puts out her hand and seizes his genitals, then you shall cut off her hand; you shall not show pity.

That shit it crazy! So all you married guys watch out. If we're throwing down and your wife steps up and starts grabbing at my privates, I have no choice but to lop off her hand with no pity. No pity! I'll have to finish up my business with you, which probably won't take long since if your wife needs to step in, you're probably Washington State to my Cal. Then, I'd have to gently remove your wife's hand from my genitals and then proceed to remove it from her arm. Sorry, but that's what the bible wants me to do.

Also in the book, it talks about groups of very orthodox Jews and Christians who are working to breed a perfectly red heifer. According to the Old Testament, a red heifer without a single non-red hair needs to be sacrificed at the Temple of Jerusalem, and its ashes can then be used is some sort of purification ritual. After this ritual is finished, it will clear the way for the arrival of the Jewish Messiah. The Christians are interested because if this messiah comes, he'll obviously be the Antichrist since they already got a messiah, who'll return to Earth to fight the Antichrist, who, needless to say, will be a heavy underdog. And that's not even the crazy part!

So if these dudes do get this perfectly red cow, they'll need to rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem, which would be all well and good if the temple did not have be build at the current location of the Dome of the Rock. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's the cool-looking golden dome structure behind that handsome gentleman in the picture below. It's also the supposed location of Muhammad's ascension to heaven and the third holiest site in all of Islam. Last I checked neither of these groups are real keen on sharing. Looks like the world's going to end one way or another; I really need to get going on this stadium thing...

best craigslist ad ever

A while back, I was doing my normal Craiglist search for...stuff...when I happened upon this ad:Link

Now, I know what you're thinking: the only thing you can do after seeing something like that is run to the phone and demand to have it -- no questions asked. The problem was I started thinking. In my mind, this is how the phone call would have gone:

me: hello, is willow there?
willow: speaking.
me: i'm calling about your vagina.
willow: is this dr. stanton's office about my test results?
(pause)
me: no, i'm calling about the couch.
(pause)
willow: oh, that...i still have it. do you want to buy it?
me: i'll give you $100 for it.
willow: i'm really looking for $600. i think that's how much it's worth.
me: what do you mean that's how much it's worth?
willow: i mean it's worth $600.
me: are you out of your mind? were did you get that number from? is there a fucking market for vagina couches out there that i don't know about where prices are set? is there a supply and demand curve for this sort of thing?
willow: you're being rude. i don't want you to have the couch.
me: well shit. guess what? this IS dr. stanton's office and you have gonorrhea and your couch has termites!
(click)

As you can see, that's the last thing I want to happen since it would kinda make me seem like I was insane. It's probably for the best seeing as how there's a 100% chance that I will come home drunk one night and pass out on said couch only to wake up the next day scared out of my fucking mind. I do like that it comes with that cool pillow on top...

start

Why blog? I mean, who cares what I have to say? So, I was thinking about this and realized that it doesn't matter. I can use this as a forum to voice my opinions on anything no matter how asinine (of which I seem to have many) or random. It's great. It's like having a conversation where you can talk about yourself nonstop to other people without the whole unpleasantness of having to sit there and listen to their inane rants and superficial problems.

Also, as I recently learned, it's a great way to libel people who have wronged me in any way however trivial. Now there will be payback for the guy who cut in from of me in line at the grocery store and the cashier at the cafe who rang me up with the two Asian guys standing behind me in line assuming we were together.

I can totally use this as a replacement for that diary that I don't keep for fear that it would get waterlogged with my tears whenever I let my heart pour out through my purple gel pen onto the pink stationary. Oh, that might have been a little too much...