In my own true fashion

You know how some people like to write about themselves as being honest to God nice and down to earth, and who love to travel, bla bla bla? Doesn't it befuddle you when you get to know them later on that that was all just a bunch of bull crap? Well, I can tell you that I have not disappointed anyone who has ever read my self descriptions.

To solidify my characteristics of loving to travel and always being spontaneous, I just decided six hours ago to go to Paris for Thanksgiving.

While preparing to go out for the evening, I watched some CNN news, and when the travel segment came on, the anchor asked the travel reporter if there was any good deals out there. The response was: "If you want to skip the family this Thanksgiving, you can go to Paris for six days and four nights for $499, airfare and lodging included."

Holy smokes! Solo or not, I'm living up to my personality and aller à Paris! Let me know if you want to tag along!

Rape me in the ass!!!

Remember my Chitown Badge of Honor? That night I thought the $25 parking violation ticket was kind of funny, considering that I have dodged violation citations from the city of Chicago for over two years. But tonight, as I prepared all my finances before heading out to Denver for the weekend to visit Jamie and Katie, I decided that it is about time to pay up the $25 fee.

I thought to myself, while a twinkle of a smile appeared, "Oh, how cute! They printed the violation notice twice just like how restaurants do when printing credit card charge receipts!" I happily wrote a check for $25 made out to the City of Chicago, and separated the two violation notices. As I licked the orange envelope, my eyes drifted to "my copy" of the parking violation citation. But something was amiss. My copy somehow had the following printed: "$120"

What the?!? Where the hell did that come from? Closer inspection revealed the following:
1. No, the city of Chicago did *not* print two copies of the citation.
2. The second citation was for "CITY STICKER-NO/IMPROPER DISPLAY; EXPIRED PERMIT 6-30-06"

Oh.
My.
God.

Damn you, Chicago! Apparently they brought out the big guns with a tub of Vaseline and rimmed me hard for my very first being caught! I can now picture Officer Rodriguez, Badge 801 from Unit 502, having the last laugh that fateful night of September 9, 2006. And I'm so totally convinced that he did this out of complete spite! He hates Asians! He hates Land Rovers! He hates blue vehicles! He hates guys having a perfect non-moving violation for two years!

Sigh... I guess I'm bitter because they send you advance notices for your vehicle's emissions test, registration expiration, and everything. Except the annual City Sticker renewals. It's a conspiracy... A conspiracy against newcomers to Chicago... Keep it up, Chicago! At this rate, you have no hope of recovering the exodus of the two million people in the last few decades. No hope of reclaiming the number two spot as the country's most populous city. Ever!

=)

Grab your Kleenex

As reported by a friend of a friend...

Nominee for most instantly depressing headline of all time:
"60 Puppies Die in Vehicle Fire"

If you don't find this sad, you're a Satan worshipper. And you like to take it up the ass. =)

When in doubt, bite back...

BEIJING (Reuters) - An intoxicated Chinese man who tried to give a panda a hug at Beijing Zoo found himself biting it in self defence after his clumsy attempt at affection was savagely rejected, local media reported on Thursday.

Zhang Xinyan, a building worker on holiday from China's central Henan province, climbed into an enclosure that held Gu Gu, a seven-year-old panda, at Beijing Zoo after the man had drunk four pints of beer during lunch at a nearby restaurant, the Yanzhao Metropolis Daily said.

Zhang, who couldn't remember the incident clearly, had wanted to hug the panda and shake its hand after having watched similar scenes on television.

"When I was in there, the panda was eating bamboo. Then, it seemed some people shouted, which startled the panda. He rushed over to bite my leg," Zhang said.

Zhang, who tried in vain to push the panda away, was bitten twice and forced to the ground, the paper said.

"I took the opportunity to bite the panda's back, but its fur was too thick," Zhang said.

Eventually, a zoo worker sprayed water from a hose to rescue Zhang from the panda's clutches, the paper said.

Both were worse for wear after the tussle. Zhang was rushed to hospital and given tetanus and rabies shots, while Gu Gu lost her appetite, Xinhua news agency reported.

"It was scared by the intruder and refused to eat for one and a half days," a zoo spokeswoman, surnamed Ye, told Xinhua.

But Gu Gu had recovered and was back on display on Thursday.

Zhang, however, faces at least a half-month convalescence, due to the "deep wounds", Xinhua said, citing Zhang's doctor.

His pride had also been injured, after reading stories of his exploits in newspapers.

"I wouldn't have jumped in if I knew what would happen," Zhang said.

The zoo, which plans to install cameras to monitor the enclosure, would not prosecute, Xinhua said.

But Zhang had already been tried and found guilty by Chinese Internet surfers.

"The man should be fined for the trouble he made," an anonymous commentator said in a posting on 163.com.

"He deserved to be bitten."

Dear neighbor

Dearest neighbor. I hated it when the previous tenants living in the condo next to me smoked. Their cigarette smoke would seep through the walls and enter my bedroom, causing serious complications with my asthmatic conditions. But ever since you booted those chimney-smoking, yet so hot, girls out, my health has improved vastly. I thank you very much. And thank goodness you're good looking too. Not as hot as the replaced tenants, but at least I don't gasp for air everyday now.

It has come to my attention that in addition to your decent attractive looks, you are also quite a cook. For a while or so, I did not mind a bit. It is refreshing to know that there is a fellow food connoisseur living next to me. Every evening whenever I am not traveling out of town, I'd smell the sweet aroma of your art and skill. It is pleasing to me indeed. And judging by the different aromas that float about my condo everyday, you have some mad, dazzling and varied skills. I give you kudo's and prop's.

But after the last few blissful months, it has also come to my attention that I rarely see you. Likewise, you have never invited me over for dinner. I can certainly take the hint, and I don't mind one bit. Dating fellow tenants is not a practice I like to engage in. But lately, as I have not gone out of town for many weeks now, your most excellent culinary skills are starting to cause alarm. Not only do you cook during dinner time, but you also cook during lunch.

Your living behavior has two side effects on me, both of which impact yours truly in a negative way. You cook all the time. This often results in making me salivate and rumble in my tummy. As if that wasn't enough, you also have a different eating schedule than my regularly scheduled food consumption. If I eat before you by hours, I always end up hungry again when you decide to cook. It has caused me to eat more meals than ever before, and caused me more than double the usual trips to the refrigerator when I work at home.

Because of the resulting weight gain in the last few months as evidenced by the 411 reports from my trusty bathroom scale, I demand you to cease cooking delicious meals for the next month or so. Alternatively, I will not object to you purposely making your meals smell like dog food. I hope this message finds you in good health, as well as in good mood. Thank you very much.

Sincerely,

#2104

Really! Just shoot me!

Okay, it has been years since I walked into a Blockbuster and rented a movie. So I finally did, considering I have missed out on quite a lot of good movies that came out the last few years even after I kept saying, "Ooh, I gotta go see that movie!"

I came home, happy at the thought of having a quiet evening to myself, and prepared dinner. Some minutes passed, and voila; I had some quick sautéed vegetable medley over rice. Yum. I inserted the DVD into the player, and pressed the play button.

After just ten minutes, my jaw was on the ground, fork still in hand, and food untouched. It was the most disturbing, disgusting, and vulgar movie I have ever watched in my life! If it was funny, maybe I would have given it a chance. The cover of the DVD had this inscribed: "From 2 of the 6 writers of Scary Movie." Apparently they really needed the other four writers. Seriously.

So you want to know what piece of crap I watched that made me scurry around searching for a gun to shoot myself in the mouth with? Date Movie. Too bad all I had was a flare gun. =)

A crush

Rarely do I remember dreams, despite its intensity, scariness, or how good it was. But last night's dream really shook me up. I pretty much woke up drenched in sweat. For some reason, whenever I have dreams related to sports or physical activity, the wettest parts of my body have always been my legs. (No, not from pissing myself, but sweat, dummy!)

Anyway, I was just riding my bike on a city road, minding my own business. I could feel cars zooming past me on the second lane left of me. People honked, and some even cheered. I came across an intersection, and the light was green and has not changed for a while. Just as I entered the intersection, I saw a car speeding towards me from the corner of my right eye. He was going to blow past his red light.

To my left crossing the intersection with me happened to be a white window-less commercial van. Much like that of a flower delivery van you see going around cities. Bam! Seconds go by. The car had hit me and wedged me between the van and the car itself. The blow was so hard that the van's nose was pointing 45 degrees from its original heading, and no longer moving.

In a flash I was in pain. My helmet was rolling around several yards away from me, much like how a spinning coin was about to die. I laid there in my own pool of blood. I could hear the hustle and the noises from passerby traffic. Yet they are muted. I could hear my own heart beating, and my own struggled lungs breathing. I knew it was bad, but I was trying to calm myself down. Once I see what damage was done to my body I might go into a mind-induced shock at the sight. My heart was pounding. I tried to reach my cell phone. But I couldn't. I was also hurting from unrecognizable intense pain everywhere. The driver in the car was drunk. The driver of the van got out and was trying to talk to me. And then I woke up.

What the hell? What kind of a dream was that? That was a crush I didn't enjoy one bit. I rarely dreamed of horrible things happening to myself, and this one came overnight. I hope it remains just that: a dream.

What women want

Once in a while, I would get on my online chat program and talk to my friends. And today was no different than any one of those once-in-a-while moments. It seems like I play the advice-giving psychiatrist a lot whenever I chat online. It has been like that forever. Strange, right, considering that I am always in situations that probably warrant a trip to a psychiatrist myself.

Anyway, today a friend and I started chatting. She's a good friend, and we started talking about different things like how we were doing, what's going on in our lives, and relationships. One thing led to another, and the conversation turned more intimate:

John: How are you and [her bf]?
Friend: ummm we were good up until this week and all we have been doing is fighting since Wednesday which is my fault bc i have aproblem with jealousy
John: You and every girl on this planet have that problem... =)
Friend: he got a new car and i threw a fit
John: What? I thought you were going to say that he's got a friend who's a girl!
Friend: no lol
John: Cool... I hope you guys break up and then I can claim you! Muah ha ha ha ha ha! ;-)
Friend: lol
John: What did he get, and why did you get upset about it?
Friend: he got a buick RENDEZVOUS its an suv and i want an suv soooo bad but he said it was for "us" and i had no reason to be jealous
John: A what? Isn't that the car with an ugly rearend?
Friend: lol yea. i like it but i wanted to get an suv so thats why i was being selfish
John: Do you want my psychological explanation?
Friend: sure
John: Here's my psychoanalysis. You're jealous because deep inside you'd rather him spend the money on an engagement ring and then just get that part over with.
Friend: OMG how did you know that was the other side of the arguement?
Friend: your good
John: What can I say?

Please tell me this. Why is it that I always know what's going on in most of my female friends' minds, but I can't hone that skill and apply that into my own life when dealing with women? Strange, huh?

Where did I go wrong?

You win. After all, you do know best...

Da Iry: Miracle Elixir

I must not watch a lot of television or something. A couple weeks ago, while chatting with my favorite sister, she kept on talking about this advert series called "Da Iry". She kept on snorting while telling me all about it, while I was barely amused because I have no idea what she was talking about and why it was funny. I just assumed that it must be some local product that was being advertised in California, since Szu lives in the City of Angels.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and add the modern marvels of the Internet. I present you with Da Iry. I may not think it is as hilarious as my sister though, but it is funny nonetheless.



For more information, you can go to PlanetInNeed.com.

My favorite destination spot on planet Brittlelactica? PMSTONIA!

The real 'just shoot me...'

Hmm... Before I was able to complete my first sentence while composing yesterday's blog, I got busy with a few things: phone call, e-mail, and CNN. I guess by the time I returned to my blog, I have totally forgotten the subject matter and just rambled on. So my apologies, for the title did not match up with the content. A practical first, I must say. In any case, here is the real 'just shoot me...' bla bla bla.

Imagine the excitement when my resource deployment manager told me about a longer term project in Chicago. No travel, and pretty much every week I will be working there. We started talking about it, and I asked her, "Where exactly in Chicago is it?" She didn't know, so she sent off a corporate instant message to a gal who is currently assigned there.

The response? Their corporate office is in Merrillville, Indiana. Gasp! But the location of the actual work is in Hammond. Huh? Hammond, Illinois is halfway between Chicago and St. Louis. Further clarification indicated that they are in Hammond, Indiana.

Wait a minute! That is not a local gig. Can they possibly deem it local? I would have to deal with the Dan Ryan Expressway construction, and my commute will be almost two hours each way. And I won't get meal allowances or mileage reimbursement because the client deemed it local (to Chicago). Just two trips out there will deplete a full tank of gas in my Hippo! And did I mention that it's in Indiana?

So yeah. I'd rather pass on that and travel instead of going on a 'local' gig which I will be losing money and my personal time. Hence the subject title of 'Just shoot me...'

Just shoot me...

Tomorrow will be the end of my twelfth week working at I B M. It is great. My career is going well. My worries about having to start all over with proving myself were unfounded. I travel significantly less. Of the 12 weeks as an I B Mer, six of which I have worked from home, including this present one. I now make a lot more money than before, or ever dreamed of for someone out of school for five short years.

Everything is good, right? Yet somehow, I feel like something is amiss. Or a lot are amiss. I thrive in stress and the high paced work life. I'm used to jet setting across the country: seeing new places, experiencing different subcultures of Americana, and dating people from out of town. But ever since I have moved to Chicago, things are slowly changing. The biggest behavioral change of all was my sudden giving up dating in other cities. Except for New York City last year. That was a unique situation that presented itself and I couldn't help it. Love at first sight. Sigh. Or was it lust?

Naturally one would think that dating in Chicago will be easier now that I don't travel all that often, right? Not really. But I caught myself once in a while thinking about what could have been - a private dwelling in the past. And then I think about what I want to do with my life. I also think about the society around me. The philosopher and psychiatrist in me surfaces. Of course, I have no formal training in such subject matters. But I'd like to think I'm good at it.

A recent conversation with someone got me thinking. Why am I working for money? Wouldn't life be great if I have financial independence? Well, yeah. But I'm getting older. Yes, I know 28 is not exactly old, but if you have experienced the kind of life I have led from second grade till my sophomore year in college, you will understand that I have some serious mileage akin to a 40 year old. It's a miracle that my parents have not died of coronary stroke or heart attack. The last eight years have been a personal road to self redemption. Be good to people. Be honest. Treat your body well. Be considerate. Cherish life. I wonder why I didn't die when people said I should have died in my past two serious incidents.

Don't worry; I'm not sprouting out religion or that WWJD nonsensical stuff. I am a better person without organized religion. As long as I know what I believe in my heart.

Back to the recent conversation I had. Without telling her how much I make or showing any signs of my having enough means to mosey through life, she asked some pressing questions. And this has been coming up recently, not just this one time. What do I want to do with my life? What are my priorities in life?

Remember my rambling on not taking risks is risky? I feel like I want to jump off a cliff right now. Am I happy? I don't know. For a lot of people, making lots of money is important to them. But not me. I am only doing what I do because it pays damn well, and I am damn good at what I do. But am I passionate about what I do? Not really.

I have a lot of thoughts right now. One possibility is to go back to school and get an MBA. Cool, right? But what does an MBA get you? More earning potential. Great. Something I don't really want in the first place. I'm not the corporate type. But I'm not the entrepreneur type either. I don't want to be the boss's gofer. And I don't want to be my own boss either.

As an adult I have always dreamed of becoming an actor. Occasionally I thought of becoming a comedian. But someone who has known me for a very long time since high school noted this: "John, you used to be a really funny person." What happened? Has the eight year recovery killed the funny person in me? Or was Chris Farley right all along? That you have to be crazy wild to be funny, which led to his own death?

Sometimes I wonder about myself. I take all those self-evaluation tests. No, none of those MySpace crap surveys, but time-consuming ones like Jung, Enneagram, Maslow Inventory, Freudian Personality and Eysenck Personality tests. But they don't show me what I truly want in life. At the end of the day, after turning off the lamp on my night stand, I think to myself: I just want to love a woman. Build a house. And change a baby's diaper. Share life. Nothing more. Nothing less.

So there you have it. This is the one and only time I'll admit this in public. No other self-respecting man will ever do this.

Declaration of Revocation

Declaration of Revocation
by John Cleese

To the citizens of the United States of America, in the light of your failure to elect a competent President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today.

Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories.

Except Utah, which she does not fancy.

Your new Prime Minister (The Right Honourable Tony Blair, MP for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a Minister for America without the need for further elections.

Congress and the Senate will be disbanded.

A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up "aluminium." Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour'; skipping the letter 'U' is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters.

You will end your love affair with the letter 'Z' (pronounced 'zed' not 'zee') and the suffix "ize" will be replaced by the suffix "ise."

You will learn that the suffix 'burgh' is pronounced 'burra' e.g. Edinburgh. You are welcome to re-spell Pittsburgh as 'Pittsberg' if you can't cope with correct pronunciation.

Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up “vocabulary." Using the same thirty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "uhh", "like", and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication.

Look up "interspersed."

There will be no more 'bleeps' in the Jerry Springer show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary, then you won't have to use bad language as often.

2. There is no such thing as "US English." We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of "-ize."

3. You should learn to distinguish the English and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. English accents are not limited to cockney, upper-class twit or Mancunian (Daphne in Frasier).

You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents --- Scottish dramas such as "Taggart" will no longer be broadcast with subtitles.

While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is "Devon." If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become "shires" e.g. Texasshire, Floridashire, Louisianashire.

4. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast English actors to play English characters.

British sit-coms such as "Men Behaving Badly" or "Red Dwarf" will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness.

5. You should relearn your original national anthem, "God Save The Queen", but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

6. You should stop playing American "football." There is only one kind of football. What you refer to as American "football" is not a very good game.

The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays "American" football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football.

Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American "football", but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like nancies).

We are hoping to get together at least a US Rugby sevens side by 2005.

You should stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the 'World Series' for a game which is not played outside of America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. Instead of baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls' game called "rounders," which is baseball without fancy team strip, oversized gloves, collector cards or hotdogs.

7. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous in public than a vegetable peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

8. July 4th is no longer a public holiday. November 2nd will be a new national holiday, but only in England. It will be called "Indecisive Day."

9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap, and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts. You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call 'French fries' are not real chips. Fries aren't even French, they are Belgian though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called "crisps." Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat. The traditional accompaniment to chips is beer which should be served warm and flat.

Waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive with customers.

11. As a sign of penance 5 grams of sea salt per cup will be added to all tea made within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, this quantity to be doubled for tea made within the city of Boston itself.

12. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling "beer" is not actually beer at all, it is lager . From November 1st only proper British Bitter will be referred to as "beer," and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as "Lager." The substances formerly known as "American Beer" will henceforth be referred to as "Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine," with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser company whose product will be referred to as "Weak Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine." This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in the Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.

13. From November 10th the UK will harmonise petrol (or "gasoline," as you will be permitted to keep calling it until April 1st 2005) prices with the former USA. The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the Former USA will, in return, adopt UK petrol prices (roughly $6/US gallon -- get used to it).

14. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

15. Please tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us crazy.

16. Tax collectors from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776).

Thank you for your co-operation.

One sided conversation

It does not matter what was said to this other person. It is just funny how this other person responded:

"Is it some kind of verbal incontinence? Is there a Depends product for that? Verbal leakage?"

Religion... Immortalized.

Katie, a friend of mine, posted this as a bulletin on MySpace. It's so awesome that re-posting it on MySpace serves it injustice. So here it is, immortalized for all to read!


Dr. Laura Schlessinger is a radio personality who dispenses advice to people who call in to her radio show. Recently, she said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following is an open letter to Dr. Laura penned by Jim the sarcasm king. It's funny, as well as informative:

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thanks for doing much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, & try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate. I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other specific laws & how to follow them:

When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is menstrually unclean - Lev.15:19- 24. The problem is, how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

I have a coworker who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself?

A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this?

Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there wiggle room here?

Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

My Bro has a farm. He violates Lev. 19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? - Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your devoted fan,
Jim

Chitown Badge of Honor (in orange envelope)

So after living here for over two years now, I have finally realized where Sears Tower is and learned how to get there. Well, tonight, I have earned another badge of honor that has been too long in the making: my first parking ticket from the city of Chicago.

I am not sure if this is cause for celebration to finally get that first ticket over with or not. Just like when I bought my skis, I was debating whether or not I should just go out to the parking lot and slide it across the asphalt just so I can get the first scratch out of the way and not worry about my precious going down the hills. Celebration or there lack of, I am still glad I have finally gotten my first ticket. I just hope that a speeding ticket is not hot on the heels of this parking violation.

Being a kid again...

Labor Day. It sure was laborious, let me tell ya. I had the pleasure of flying out to Raleigh that evening. I also got to enjoy the extra benefit of thunderstorms stretching from Texas to Illinois to North Carolina, which automatically meant a departure delay. Which also meant once airborne, circling the skies of Raleigh waiting for the storms to move away from the Raleigh Durham International airport.

And circles we did. For a long time. Until we were almost out of fuel and forced to land in Baltimore Washington, which was a cool hour away from Raleigh. People moaned. Some cursed. Another asked for free beer on Southwest. Instead of getting to Raleigh at 23:25 that evening, we were looking at a best case scenario of 01:30 in the morning.

So we landed in Baltimore and got fuel. The storms were not moving anywhere, so we got enough to fly us to Orlando. Sweet. Although I would hate the idea of leaving Baltimore and then having to circle the skies while waiting out the storm till *all* that fuel got spent.

While waiting for clearance to depart Baltimore, we were allowed to walk around the plane and stretch. As I was sitting in the front, I decided to chat with the captain. One thing led to another. And no, we did not go to the lavatory and join the mile high club at ground level. Captain Bill Stansell invited me to sit at the cockpit, provided that I did not press any button. With my soul battered and tired, his invitation immediately rejuvenated me! Awesome!

The last time I visited a cockpit, aside from going to museums about flight or aerospace, was when I was in high school back in Indonesia. I was heading west, and I was so impressed that we had a female captain. This was extremely unusual, given the fact that it was an Indonesian airline, in a conservative country. While still in the air, the copilot took over and the captain went to the lavatory. When she came out, I struck up a conversation, and before long, I was in the cockpit, in the air! And of course, this was before 9/11.

Here's a picture the kind Captain Stansell took of me in a Boeing 737-700.



Oh, and speaking the mile high club, apparently there are two companies in the United States that offer you the mile high club experience. For a mere $299, you can go up on a plane with your loved one at the appropriate altitude of 5,280 feet and rump around the hay {actually, it is a mattress} for 50 minutes with Mile High Atlanta. You get a mile high club certificate, as well as keep the sheets. Thank goodness he gives out brand new, clean sheets, huh? Check them out. The other company is Flamingo Air. Ooo, so kinky! Who wants to get frisky with me a mile above sea level?

What kind of coworker do you have?

I don't know if I would want the cameraman as my coworker...

Crikey!

I woke up one fine Monday morning, and in between checking my email and performing my daily MySpace ritual, I looked at some site that dishes out both real and sometimes exaggerated news for entertainment's sake. I saw a headline and discounted it, for nothing was on news.google.com at the time for me to collaborate. Besides, the Crocodile Hunter is invincible; he can't possibly just drop dead.

Come Tuesday morning, details flooded my favorite news sites on Steve Irwin. It is true. Having read about it a day earlier did not prepare me for the cold hard fact.

I have never been a nature fan, so long as I remember my parents renting those gay nature videos and forcing Szu and me to sit as a family in front of the tube. But as a young adult, Mr. Irwin made me enjoy nature shows. And as a mature adult, I understood his passion in wildlife and his championing conservation. Those only made me enjoy more of his "gay" shows on television.

I don't know why tears randomly swell up my eyes whenever a segment on the news starts talking about him. Much like I don't understand why I shed a few tears while watching the news unfolded on Flight TWA 800 back in 1996. Or why I tear up every time the Star-Spangled Banner gets sung at the ball game.

Whatever reason it may be, here's to you, Mr. Crikey. Mother Nature lost a great messenger, but only you can be among those select few heroes who are lucky enough to die doing what you have always loved. You have done well, and will be sorely missed for you are the one and only Crocodile Hunter in this lifetime.

Let's talk about sex

Every once in a while, I'd catch a friend who I've known over 15 years online and chat. Most of the time the conversations are light-hearted and jovial, but recently, we talked some serious stuff. Sprinkled with silly shit.

We started out talking about my sister, and then whether or not she's got any kids with her husband. You see, my friend has a thing for Szu a long time ago. Anyway, the conversation started with kids, and then it got strange and funny, yet serious at the same time. It's quite entertaining that I felt the need to share it with you.

John: I'm doubtful that I will ever be an uncle.
[Friend]: why not?
John: More and more people nowadays are opting for no kids.
[Friend]: yeah...thats too bad =P...
[Friend]: I guess you guys [Americans] feel the money pressure too?
[Friend]: I learned from our class in CJIMS...I feel its importatnt to have kids...
John: Why is it important?
John: Think of it this way. 18 years of torture...
John: They're going to treat you twice as badly as you treated your parents while growing up.
[Friend]: hmm...thats only if the kids are not close with the parents I suppose?
[Friend]: well...first its another step toward maturity. The life cycle is not complete if we do not have offspring.
John: Really?
John: Fuck, I'm really screwed.
[Friend]: no worries...this is only my opinion...
[Friend]: and think of it this way...who will take care of you when you are 80?
[Friend]: I surely will take care of my parents whey they get old...
John: I'm moving to Oregon when I hit 70.
John: Assisted suicide is legal there.
[Friend]: I think the only reason we live, scientifically, is to reproduce...
John: No shit... I enjoy sex, trust me.
[Friend]: well...thats true =)
[Friend]: i mean..thats what fruit flys are alive for right
John: You just related our lives to... fruit flies?!?
[Friend]: yes =)
John: Fruit flies could care less of their offsprings.
John: We humans certainly do.
John: With the exceptions of crack whores...
[Friend]: you are actually funny! ha!ha!ha!
[Friend]: well...scientifically isn't it?
John: Hmm... I don't know... I think it is more about survival of the fittest. The male that can have the most kids will have the best chance of carrying on the genes.
John: We don't necessarily want to have kids, but we just want to spread the seeds.
[Friend]: that is true
[Friend]: ha!ha!ha!
John: And that is also the reason why monogamy is not natural.
[Friend]: I agree...but it is important to maintain a stable society...
John: In our genetic make up of all things natural, we think we are the best ones out there and should be the dominant one. In that quest, we should be spreading the seeds to as many as possible.
John: That genetic string is the reason why boys compete who pisses the highest. Who drives the fastest car. Who makes more money.
John: It's stupid puritanical laws that made us monogomous, and also our smartness in scientific advancement that created condoms and birth control pills that are totally against nature.
[Friend]: what a good reason to be a polygamist...ever thought of becoming a mormon?
John: I've actually thought about it. They have some hot women in their church, when I visited Salt Lake City.
[Friend]: Ha!ha!ha! Dang!!
John: But I'd imagine that they have some sort of a pyramid scheme going on.
John: Those with seniority gets the hottest (and youngest) ones first.
John: Me being the newby, gets the cow.
[Friend]: ha!ha!ha!...hmm...its a start...
John: Yeah, starter cow.
John: So my tenth wife should be the hot one.
[Friend]: finally...patience have its rewards
John: That's why I changed my mind.
John: Back to the point...
John: Because of all these modern scientific advancements (birth control, IV babies, etc) now even the dumb ones that would have naturally died off survives, and therefore reproduces.
John: Think about it... Fight or flight response.
John: Why do all of us have that?
John: Because thousands and thousands of years ago, the ones that just stood there in front of danger got eaten alive. They never had the chance to reproduce. Nature killed that "poor" gene from surviving!
[Friend]: Hmm...good point...so now...there are too many weaklings roaming the earth? ha!ha!ha!
John: Exactly!
John: I'm a weakling! I wear glasses.
John: Technically, without science, I would've been eaten by some lion because I thought that thing running towards me is my puppy!
[Friend]: well...doesn't have to be survival of the most physcially adapted...it can be smart too =)
[Friend]: so the strong shall survive...that means only the rich...
[Friend]: only they have the ability to have more offspring...
John: Well, yeah... Now with money, you can do almost anything. Sperm count low? Harvest some of your own sperm and make it concentrated enough, and induce hormones into your wife to be more fertile, and boom! Quadroplets!
John: See, smart is where it starts becoming against nature.
[Friend]: so smart goes against nature?
[Friend]: ha!ha!ha!
John: Smart gave birth to laws, to birth control, etc.
John: Nothing wrong with screwing girls in the hopes of not catching a gift that keeps on giving, of course.
John: Just that now, it counteracts against our natural desire to spread our seeds to reproduce in the hopes of crowding out the others.
John: Shit, you can see that right now. How many girls want to jump on a geek's bones?
John: Compared to the number of girls who just wants to fuck the brute, strong man, or men's man, who have no feelings or respect for women?
[Friend]: ...well..how many want to jump on Bill Gate's?
John: Well... He's got lots of deniro.
[Friend]: he is the extreme of geek...
John: The girls after him just wants to have Prada in their wardrobe, that's it.
John: Take that same guy and take away money. Do you think girls would line up to him and say, damn, I want your baby!
[Friend]: of course not =D..ha!ha!ha!
John: See? I rest my case!
[Friend]: but deniro = power =)
[Friend]: so in a way he has lots of power too =)
John: That's the reason why I'm screwed. I'm neither physically strong (and appealing) and I'm not all that smart.
John: But money has nothing to do with nature.
John: It is just fuel that feeds the greed of others.
[Friend]: I think you are right...maybe I am infested with it too...
John: What's "it"? Money?
[Friend]: yeah...the greed...
[Friend]: I feel like you are my shirnk...ha!ha!ha!
John: Now, on the flip side of that, consider this... Those who proclaims money is the root of evil has never been poor to know what desperation is like.
[Friend]: ever since Indonesia and seeing some people who own factories, etc... I am business crazy...
John: That is why I have no aspiration to become super rich.
[Friend]: well..I don't have aspiration to be super rich...just not working under a company =P....
John: I live in a world of paradox. The geeks hate me because I'm not smart enough. The cool people don't want anything to do with me because I'm in IT and not cool enough. Likewise with Asians. The Asians hate me because I suck at math and don't know my own language and furthermore have no entreprenuer drive in my soul, and the people of other races rank Asians the lowest when it comes to appeal.
[Friend]: ha!ha!ha!...you are actually funny =)
[Friend]: well...we are very different from other people cuz' of our history I guess...
John: You're right. Same with the white people who went to our school.
John: White people here don't accept them because they're "weird", and the Indonesians treated them differently because they're white.
[Friend]: yes...that is the case of 3rd culture kids...
[Friend]: we are 3rd culture kids...same as miliatry kids
[Friend]: and Missionary kids of course...
[Friend]: but...don't you feel like one of the Indonesian workers when you work in a company?
John: No I don't feel like Indonesian workers. I get mostly free healthcare insurance, and I make money.
[Friend]: oh...
John: It's a steady stream of money. Being an entrepreneur you may make lots of money, you may not make any, and it fluctuates.
[Friend]: don't know...I see it as making other people rich...
[Friend]: yeah, thats true.
John: I like consistency, even if it may never make me a millionaire. That's because I have no aspiration to be a millionaire.
[Friend]: oh...I have no aspiration to be a millionaire either...just have financial freedom thats all....
[Friend]: I guess I don't have many people to speak my real thoughts =)
John: Not even your girlfriend?
[Friend]: well..she is in [some city] right now...
John: You've been with her forever. You should be comfortable enough to even tell her your deepest and darkest secrets.
[Friend]: yes, I do =)
[Friend]: but thats the thing...I only have her right now. [my brother] also don't have the aspirations...but I would bug him too..ha1ha1ha!
John: ...like the time you killed a puppy just to see what happens. And she never judged you. That's a sign she's the right one.
[Friend]: ....puppy???
John: Just making shit up.
[Friend]: huh??!!
John: Analogy.
John: You should be able to murder someone and get away with it, and at the same time be able to tell her and she won't rat you out or judge you. That's a sign she's the one you're destined for.
John: I wouldn't necessarily recommend going out to kill a puppy or commit the perfect murder and test her out though... =)
[Friend]: ....yes...I was about to say...
[Friend]: ha!ha!ha!
[Friend]: but...yeah, she's been with me through alot of !#@$%....
John: That's good... Marry her.
[Friend]: dangit....pressure...pressure... sigh...
John: I'll only go to your wedding if you make me your best man! And give me the privilege to bone her bridesmaids. ;-)
[Friend]: ....hmm...I wonder who will be her bridesmaids....
John: Steer her to pick the hot ones, please. For me.
[Friend]: most likely it would be some traditional chinese thing...
[Friend]: chinese wedding I mean...
[Friend]: so probably no bridesmaids...
John: Shit!
John: Definitely I'm not going to Taiwan then.
[Friend]: ha!ha!ha!ha!
[Friend]: but there are alot of hotties here that would do anything to get a ticket to the US...
John: See, I don't want that at all.
[Friend]: oh....
John: I make a shit load of money now, and every girl I date who wants to know how much I make, I play it off like I don't make much. I want to see if she wants me for me.
John: If I go to Taiwan, I'll probably lie and say that I'm still a Taiwanese citizen with no green card.
[Friend]: ...who just can't speak Chinese...that is what I say =)

This girl hates herself

After having a long conversation with a friend, things started to become clearer to me. Or for the sake of my mental stability, I simply bought her explanation. Was it because I was tired? I don't know. This girl clearly loathes herself. Accurate? Likely. Totally wrong? Likely as well, but not as much as being correct.

While watching some silly show recently, something prompted me to take a look at the actual definition of sadism and masochism, or S&M for short. Hmm. Interesting. Definitely not my cup of tea. One would say she's not into S&M, but strictly speaking on the terms of accurate definition* despite popular belief, she definitely falls into that category.

Totally.

Both the S part as well as the M part.

Perfectly!

She likes to take it.

And she likes to give it. Probably more.

And she derives pleasure from it.

Or maybe that's just the way she deals with internal conflict.

If I was a psychiatrist, I'd tell her, "You suffer from a form of emotional displacement due to fear. Fear from commitment. And more importantly, fear from the past. You act out in ways that can be categorized as self-destruction."

But what do I know? I'm no shrink. But at least it was a good conversation that night. Or morning, if you want to be all technical about it. Maybe a little bit of crying there. Not on my part, that's for sure. But still a good conversation nonetheless by my book.

You're such a carrot! =)

*webster.com

Were you ever kind, were you always cruel?
Who's ever seen that other side of you?
Happened every time, so it must be true?
Where did you learn it's either him or you?

I stink cos I am a failure

I have always been meticulous and calculating, in a good way, of course. Definitely not one of those who plan out devious little details for secret world domination. And I have always been rewarded for my perfectly executed plan. Well, after years of always been successful, yesterday was the biggest wake up call I have ever had. A shocker, if you will. I was stunned, and my reaction was sort of a blank. Should I get upset? Or should I applaud the gods of fate for finally catching on?

Most of you undoubtedly know that I travel for work. And for years, I have worked the system and took advantage of loopholes. All with success. For example: When I had to work in St. Louis, I would always stay at Clayton on the Park, a nice, plush residential hotel where famous people like Angie Harmon and some of the Rams players own some units of their own. As such, they have nice big kitchens, all furnished, except for the actual foods and some cutlery. So for several times, I have brought my olive oil {for sautéing} and two small cutting knives to St. Louis in my carryon. And I have never been caught while going through the security checkpoint. {There is a little secret to achieve this, but this is not the point.}

So yeah, I have done a lot of things that are quote-unquote bad, and gotten away with it. And since the damn terrorists decided to sneak explosives in sports drink containers, all hell has broken lose. No liquids through security checkpoint, and no such items on the plane if you purchase drinks at the secured terminal areas. So t I carefully crafted a new way to bring my mouthwash, hair clay, and FCUK cologne. I left the toothpaste out because its shape would stand out like a sore thumb in the x-ray machine. And the plan worked wonderfully without a flaw for several trips.

Until yesterday. While at Raleigh-Durham International, there were maybe only 15 people waiting in line to go through the security checkpoint, which only had one line staffed. Typically this would be quick, but for some reason, it took forever. It turned out that the young {and hot} girl working the x-ray machine was pretty much calling out for manual bag check for every single bag that came through. I could see that there were three TSA people {calling them "officers" may be an exaggeration} going through peoples' bags, so they had to slow down the number of people going through the metal detectors.

Damn! I could feel my confidence, five plus years in the making, seep all away in just a few minutes. And what do you know? The x-ray girl called out my carryon suitcase. She wasn't hot looking anymore. A TSA man came up and joked, "Are you really doing your job or have something against us?" Cautiously opening my suitcase and carefully sifting through it, he found my mouthwash and cologne. Double damn! After the initial and brief denial and anger stages, I entered into this bargaining stage. I asked, "Is there a lost and found place where I can leave my cologne, as I will be coming back next week?" After all, we're talking about an expensive bottle of cologne here and my favorite too! He said, "No." Then he provided the options: 1. Throw it out, or 2. Check my bag. I looked at the time, and I have only 35 minutes till my flight departs. Triple damn!

He could tell I was sort of in anguish. I already had to cancel my original flight and take a later one, and I really wanted to go home. I had plans! If I checked my bag, I would have to wait another 20 minutes to retrieve it at speedy Midway. And furthermore, I would have to wait at the Southwest luggage check line in Raleigh, and go through the security checkpoint once again. Which the line was getting a lot longer, I observed. So I finally said, "F**k it. Just toss it out." Another TSA guy came over, curious about this five minute bargaining that was occurring. I said that I can't waste any time, and can't check my bag. Then the second TSA guy finally asked, "What is it? Usually people can decide pretty quickly to throw things away or go check their bag." I replied, "Yeah, just throw it. It's FCUK, a cologne from Britain that cost close to $100."

At that moment, I swear I saw a twinkle in their eyes. They were not really going to throw it away. I could tell in their mental conversation that went on something like this: "Do you want it?" "Hell, I want it!" "We'll settle this on our next break." "Don't you dare screw me over!" So having seen those twinkles, and perhaps a smirk from the first TSA guy as well, I told him, "I changed my mind."

So he escorted me out, and that's when I saw a drop box. You can mail your items home! For $8 an item not weighing more than nine ounces and limited to three by six inches in dimension, you can have an expedited delivery of your item in three to four weeks! Talk about being raped in the ass with outlandish charges!!! So yeah, my first failure against the TSA for the first time in years. {Score: TSA 1, John 69.} As a result? I will stink for the next three to four weeks. Boo!