Say my name, Say my name.

Here are a few things me and the other Marty have in common other than our name:

We're both cool little dudes.

You know our steez.

We both have badass hi-top sneakers. Nike please.
We both have our own informational websites. His is here. Mine is here.

We both try to impress the brothers.

We're both protagonists. Him in Back To The Future Trilogy. Me in Life (maybe Trilogy if you follow Buddhism or Hinduism).

We both get our wisdom from badass dudes.

His:
Mine:

We both can't stop shaking. It's unfortunate he has Parkinson's but rather fortunate that I have rhythm and a love for shaking my tail feather.

We both don't identify with being yellow. It comes to fisticuffs whenever someone calls him "yellow." I press charges for hate crimes.

It better be.

My girl Donatella

Although Dan's rap name (Donatello aka Don Uh Tell Ya) is similar to Ms. Versace's real name, he could only wish he was as successful as her. I usually don't care for her cuts because they often seem to be designed for the feminine looking white male but since her inspiration for this line was Barack Obama, I think she pulls off something that I rather like. But I'm too tubby to don many of these looks.

On the right is a good example of how I would want to dress for work. Keep the kids at home.

Although I'm not sure of its purpose, I love the penis scarf.

Sonotheque.

Last weekend I got a bunch of invites to go to Sonotheque and see some dudes from Stones Throw spin records. The last time I went to one of these things I ended up having a good time but the place was a perfect post office, nothing but male. Here's what I missed:

Erin Murphy done got herself a man. Finally. (And got kind of cute.)

Joe McCahill busted out his badass necklace and thought he was the life of the party.

Hey look! Annie, Jenny, and Tess decided to come out and have a good time!

TyTy finally lucked out. Big time. Jesus.

Dan/Todd Johnson ate his weight in bullshit.

Jason decided to lower his standards to a level I didn't think was possible. And Julian showed Buffalo Bill from The Silence of The Lambs how to Lean Like a Cholo.

No but seriously. I was there. Ask Jason, we even had a conversation.

Shaq's back.

shaq freestyle (Kobe Dis)
by skaybn

Watch this and realize.

Jonrón

I'm not the biggest baseball fan but this season I've been watching most of the Cubs games. I don't have anything against the White Sox, I just happen to find the Cubs more fun to watch mainly because of Carlos Zambrano. He never fails to make me laugh every day he pitches and even most days he doesn't. He makes no attempt to cover up his behavior which can be described as "childish" and I think it's hilarious. My fondest memory of him is when the Cubs got into a bench-clearing brawl and he was the last one out on the field but completely ready to fuck somebody up. The announcers said that he was trying to put his belt on but anyone that knows how Mexican-esque dudes fight knows he was taking that belt off getting ready to drop some bitches. The only other person I've seen do that is my Mexican grandfather.

I read this in the paper the other day and it reminded me how awesome Zambrano is. When talking about the White Sox he said, " I like to play the White Sox. It's good when every time I go to US Cellular or Comiskey or whatever the name of that ballpark is, people start screaming, calling you all kind of things. That's good. Sometimes I'm in the outfield and they say, 'Hey you!' and bad words. 'You're a homosexual!' I say, 'Well, I'm going to show them if I'm a homosexual on the mound.' That's kind of like the good feelings between the Cubs and Sox."

How exactly he is going to show them he is not a "homosexual" on the mound is beyond me. Unfortunately I'll have to wait another year to see him make it happen. I'm still excited.

Go heart your own city.

Nothing represents the block I live on more than Mario Joe Panvino. Nicknamed "Big Joe" by my brother and probably a lot of other people, he is a Class-A hit in Portage Park. I remember not being able to walk to 7-Eleven or to the park without at least two or three cars blasting horns and yelling "MARIOOOO!!!!!" in acknowledgment of Big Joe's presence. The positive effect that Mario has had on our neighborhood is a product of what a pleasant city like Chicago can influence. And nothing has had more of an effect on him than Chicago sports teams. He is the biggest Bears/Cubs/Bulls/anything-that-has-to-do-with-Chicago-minus-the-White Sox-fan both physically and mentally. Every conversation brings out at least 10 minutes of Chicago sports related talk and at least a few mentions of Michael Jordan. Mario's back room is a bouillon cube of Chicago sports. Every inch of the wall is covered with Chicago paraphernalia (and wrestling hoz) and to experience it is truly a delight. If you aren't a Chicago fan in any way you will still be amazed at how much shit someone can put on a few small walls (I just thought of a new rap name for Paul Wall's little brother). This is just a snapshot of his room. One day I'll take a picture of the Dennis Rodman autographed framed jersey he has (and that I plan on stealing). But until then, I'm just happy that we can sit around and talk about what we're going to do when the Bulls Repeat the 3-Peat. And I'm also happy that we actually believe it's going to happen.

This just in!

I always thought he liked me because he thought I was a good person. It's because I'm Asian?

Let me holla at a few of you and TyTy can holla at the other one.

See you C-U

As I look at this profoundly idiotic picture, the answers that I've been looking for reveal themselves quite remarkably. The last 4-5 years in Champaign-Urbana had its moments and I will never hold anything against those great experiences. However, the shithead overload that I experienced throughout college is something that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Chicago would seem to offer my escape but the emotions that go along with the realization that many of the people I was unwillingly associated with at school now have expensive apartments in "cool" neighborhoods in the city I call home is another thing I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Well I would wish it upon those very shitheads. As I become more comfortable with living at home in Portage Park (a fresh slice of 1992) I begin to realize that what's done is done and it's now time to move forward. I'm unemployed but looking tirelessly for a job and one day it will happen.

From left to right:

Kyle B. Gorman: I know Kyle is/was studying for his PhD at UPenn. I also know that he loves to say very straightforward negative comments about homosexuals and loves commenting on style. His knowledge of music is almost unbelievable but is slightly skewed because of the contempt he holds for non-Justin Timberlake lovers. Part of me hopes that Kyle is putting some "indie" kid in his place about what bands suck and why but more than part of me knows that he is probably off somewhere being just as confused as he was in this picture. Just tell him how you feel about him Kyle, no one will lose respect for you.

Curt Frericks: I know Curt works in Chicago at an Architecture Firm of some sort. There isn't too much I can say about him. My brother thought it was hilarious that Curt had no shame lifting up a girl's skirt on an MTD campus bus. I once saw him throw a haymaker at KAM's, miss, and then get tackled. If he would have landed it would have made my night. But I know he still hasn't landed and I wish him the best. There you go Curt! (That is directed at the waitress at Duke of Perth.)

Fred Follmer: I know Fred is an artist...at being awkward. I won't say too many negative things about Fred because who am I to judge? In late night talks, Fred was awarded the "Most Likely to Have Sex With a Horse." It could be a complement if you were providing pleasure. Probably not though. Will the tag "artist" get anyone anywhere? The answer is undeniably NO!

Amanda Winterroth: Look at those white girl moves.

Erin Murphy: I know Erin likes to forget important details about the roles she's assigned during conversation time. She happily plays the mature 40 year-old "I've been through it all" role and loves giving me the "I NEED HELP!" role. Erin, I'm fine. I don't understand your fascination with getting married before the age of 25 (you failed). Seriously, stop fantasizing about the bad boy (EJ) and go to medical school (Ivy League).

Zoe Schwartz: I know Zoe will one day look back at me and say "What an asshole." And I'm thankful for that. Not that I necessarily agree but because I know the reasoning behind it will be justified (like JT). Do your thang girl but most importantly stop judging Eddie. He's been nothing but nice to you and takes care of Laura (and business). Easily my favorite McCahill. But seriously, just because Eddie isn't an "artist" doesn't mean he isn't a cool dude.

Julian Crozier: Play on playa. Or just stop playing altogether.

Marty C.: I know that you have your eyes set on big things but I think your lack of hard work will never give it a chance to materialize. But seriously, take that fucking hat off and do something with that big head. Who are you to judge?

I will be back.

I applied to work for Oprah today. I love Oprah.

Indoor Sunglass Wearing: An Introduction

Believe you me, sunglasses are noted to be one of the most useful products invented A.D. They are practical and serve well in a variety of situations. Although I’m not sure who invented them, I’ve deduced a few intelligent insights that will help us create a mental image of this hero. The person was most likely a male, because females weren’t allowed to invent things other than female hygiene accessories until JFK was president, and we know sunglasses predate that (The Suffrage Movement: Part Deux). This person was also probably Caucasian because it seems that every brown culture has physically evolved into beings that are not overwhelmingly frustrated with sunlight. (Bad business idea: Asian sunglasses company that only sells in Asia. Great business idea: Abuse of Asia’s lax labor laws and sunglasses are exported to Western countries). I came to this conclusion because I can easily think of many specific Caucasian faces wearing sunglasses but not a single Arab (rich Saudis don’t count). Brown people generally tend to wear them as a stylistic accessory. So we can think of sunglasses as white people’s evolving attempt at brown skin. Sunglass wearers:


From Left to Right: Ex-Cubs pitcher Kyle Farnsworth, Dale Earnhardt, The Artist Nan Goldin, Ryan Reynolds, and Mr. Food. (Please Click image)

So you see baseball players, racecar drivers, domestic abuse victims, fashionistas, and perverts wear sunglasses (from left to right). Fun Fact: A good way to tell a pervert from a baseball player is to see if the person’s sunglasses remain on when they enter a building. On=pervert, Off=baseball player.

I believe it is perfectly acceptable to wear sunglasses when it is sunny out. Watching white people without sunglasses in extreme sunlight can be somewhat degrading as an “Asian”-American. I get overwhelmingly frustrated before I realize that they aren’t mocking me (or maybe they’re using the sunlight as an excuse to mock me). However, before this past weekend I agreed with Larry David in that there are only two types of people who wear sunglasses indoors, blind people and assholes. Times have changed.

1) Blind People: The reasons blind people wear sunglasses should be fairly obvious if you read at a 2nd grade level. And if you don’t read at least at that level, it’s not because blind people don’t want to see people laughing at their disability (or is it handicap?). It’s because seeing people don’t want to give blind people the chance of leading them on. A true example of how people don’t give those less fortunate enough respect. Example:


2) Assholes: Sometimes synonymous with “hipsters”, however, there is a vast variety of people that fall into this category. It could be your grandmother who is too lazy or too “I’m old I can do whatever the hell I want.” It could be someone who forgot their regular glasses in the car, which makes them even more of an asshole because they are too lazy to go and get them. But also, it could be those who have never let go of that one time they felt important. The person who wrote the song you hear when you call the cable company to pay your bill. The person who caught Ringo’s drumstick at that one concert. The person who was awarded the title “Most Likely To Succeed” in high school (and now is severely depressed and a college drop out). And lastly, those less fortunate like the person who invented Crocs. And the people that wear them. The person who says, “Believe you me…” or “What’s the dealio?” Etc.


3) Those who are attempting to avoid Unbelievable Assholes: Over the weekend while hanging out with a friend we decided to get a meal at a local restaurant. Well I guess it should be noted that it could be accurately described as a burger joint. I was enjoying my meal when I spotted an asshole fraternity brother across the street walking around with shorts and sandals. Anything missing from that list of clothing? It’s acceptable to take your shirt off at the beach but walking down a busy street is really not the ideal location. Especially when it is barely over 70 degrees (Fahrenheit). As he passed by I let out a sigh and a laugh and diverted my attention to something else. Two minutes of enjoyable conversation passed when the door opened abruptly and was immediately followed by an “Oh no!” This caught my attention quickly and I turned to my left to face the very person who two minutes prior represented everything that is wrong with the world. My cheese fries curdled and my hamburger quickly tasted like charcoal. In an attempt to see everything a little less clear I put on my sunglasses. Unfortunately it only gave me a reason to stare at the sonofabitch who was now enjoying a hotdog/hamburger combo with a medium fry and a large Mountain Dew, alongside his better than average looking girlfriend. It gave me an excuse to look at him because I knew he wouldn’t be able to see me eye-fucking-him-up.

Sure the owner of the eatery made a quick comment, “No shirts today?” but he wasn’t serious, how could he be? His fake tan lead me to believe that he was dying to take his shirt off too and his comment was filled with tones of jealousy. The only thing keeping it on was probably the two previous citations and the loss of business he received from the previous two times he thought it would be acceptable to serve up an Italian beef, shirtless. As my appetite quickly faded my thirst for blood quickly elevated. After thinking it was probably a bad idea to take my own shirt off and scream, “How the fuck do you like it?” I tried to come up with reasons to justify why bro-mosapien thought it would be completely fine to walk into a food establishment completely shirtless. I couldn’t do it. I was mad at this point but not nearly as mad as I was when I realized this guy didn’t even consider a shirt. He woke up that morning, put on a pair of floral board shorts, slipped on his flip-flops, grabbed his keys, and made his way out of his cave. The thought, “Am I missing an important article of clothing?” never crossed his mind. As soon as he stepped outside shirtless, with no intent of going to the beach, he fulfilled his role as “Asshole.” When he stepped into an eatery he was awarded his promotion to “Unbelievable Asshole.” As I stared through the window I couldn’t help but considering paying the extremely fat Mexican guy wearing a button up shirt and work pants, trimming the plants across the street who somehow managed to keep his shirt on in the blistering heat, a few dollars to walk into the restaurant with his shirt off and sit next to the guy’s girlfriend. Instead I threw out the rest of my food, put my head down and walked straight out of the building. It’s a good thing sunglasses can hide tears too.

Marty

David Byrne plays buildings.

Awesome.

Kim Jong-ill!

There are not many sane people who idolize war mongering, oilrig-turned-sex-ship-owning, bed-made-out-of-women-having, class-A nuts. But, I’ve never considered myself sane, and I'm proud of it. Kim Jong-il, if you don't know, is the leader of North Korea. King Jong as I like to call him. Whoa, why not a sequel to King Kong where the big ape fights a massive Kim Jong-il? They could fight over a white woman and it would be oddly reminiscent of the original. I bet the Japanese would go nuts if that came out in the theaters. Kim Jong-il has defied everyone in the world and is looked at as a Menace II Society. He a gangster, so of course he flaunts stunner-shades and fresh cut fades, but I'm starting to believe that aside from all that, other world leaders’ opinion of him is overrun with jealousy. King Jong turned an oil rig into a party boat that is home to women (probably nakie) that fulfill a strict set of measurements (eyes, ears, chins, and maybe boobs, actually probably boobs) that King Jong loves. Now that the 21st Century is of legal age, this is the equivalent of turning water into wine. Kim Kong-il>Jesus? I’ll let you decide. At one point he was the leading buyer of Hennessey. He imports Mercedes by the fleet. He loves Michael Jordan. He has the whole world afraid of him. Which world leader can live up to that? Actually, which rapper can live up to that? “It’s hard out here for a pimp,” King Jong would beg to differ.

Kim Jong-il doesn’t waste his time talking himself up. The people already have an unbelievable amount of trust in him and spend their spare time delivering verbal blowjobs that Mr. il might rightfully deserve. The papers write that Mr. il gets multiple hole-in-one’s every round of golf, which I happen to believe. He’s featured in widely popular movies like Team America where he finds home to a character and stuns the audience. As his first feature film he nails the part and many producers like Martin Scorsese are looking into casting him for upcoming North Korean mobster movies. Kim Jong-il may be talented and motivated, but we should not overlook the fact that he is an unbelievable individual.

The individuality that he continuously portrays has lead to a life of obvious fairytale and overwhelming wonder that many men would like to lead (albeit many ideal versions would probably do without the mass famine and overall state of hidden chaos that exists in North Korea). With globalization overwhelming economies and raising new concern for the future of foreign relations, Kim Jong-il has stayed true to the game. Foreign correspondents are closely monitored and not allowed to pass along any negative information that might shed light on life in North Korea. Kim Jong-il ain’t about to let some suckas roll up in his hood and start hatin and shit. All this is due to the fact that he’s an individual and comes correct with what he believes is real. That is what I love most about him. His glasses would be a close second.

So Kim Jong-il has lead his country to being one of the most fascinating places in the world. The people there absolutely (pretend to) adore him. When a medical team of foreign doctors cured people of partial blindness due to cataracts, the first thing they did was bow down to a picture of Kim Jong-il, thanking him for curing their blindness. It might have taken Kim Jong-il an uncharacteristic action by consulting outside sources to fix a few problems but he delivered a significant change to people’s lives nonetheless. If that is what it takes to cure blindness, America could use him. At least eight years of ignorance with a good possibility for another four will be too much for any sane person to handle. We’ll forever blindly follow the sheep in front of us as one of many. At the end of the day, I have little faith that even Kim Jong-il could even fix America’s blindness. I suppose many “sane” people do idolize war mongering Class-A nuts. And they’re not even individuals.

Marty

Chicago Bulls.

Why I don't have a job...

The Lake Shore Theater was offering internships for the summer. It said to send a resume and a "creative" cover letter. This is what I came up with. When I was preparing the final copy, I tried to retrieve the e-mail address I had to send it to only to find it taken down. I can't decide if it was a good thing I never sent this cover letter or if I would have gotten a multimillion dollar contract for being great. I'll never know.

"May 13, 2008

To Ms. Sandy,

I am greatly interested in the Film/Marketing Director Assistant internship that The Lake Shore Theater is offering. For many hours I’ve wondered if one were writing a conversation that was dictated to them and the storyteller said “Yea, I applied for the Film/Marketing internship”, if it would be appropriate to write the symbol for the slash or the word “slash”. Maybe my confusion is more relevant when somebody says “I am a man/god” (slash asshole). So keep in mind that, as I write this, I’m still confused if the small quotes I added above are correct.

I’ve heard great things about The Lake Shore Theater but I cannot say that I have ever been. The most important thing is that I know how to get there and that keeps my options open. I have a great interest in many different aspects of comedy and I think The Lake Shore Theater would be a good opportunity to experience the industry. My college Advertising “education” provided me with some knowledge of marketing and I feel I could at least be helpful in that area. From my résumé you can also see that I don’t have much professional experience assisting a Film/Marketing Director or comedians but I would like to think the students at Urbana Middle School where I’m currently a substitute teacher are good influences on me with regards to comedy. They are great influences because, since they are so young and somewhat innocent their private-part-jokes are not necessarily less numerous but less refined, which is more hilarious in my opinion. I mean those jokes are so played out at this point that you might as well just get to the point if you are going to talk about boners. No beating around the bush (no pun intended, seriously I just talked negatively about those kinds of jokes and I don’t intend to go back on my word. I guess I could have used a different expression).

So even if you aren’t at all interested in my résumé or what I had to say about myself, I ask a favor of you. Can you at least give me a call and let me know if it’s the symbol or the word? In retrospect it probably is just the symbol but that doesn’t really make any sense to me. I kind of despise punctuation that has to be pronounced (“%”). By the way, who decided that the front slash (“/”) is so much better than the back slash (“\”). I think it’s unfair and what if I all of a sudden used the back slash (“\”) every time I used a slash? Would the people reading it be suddenly offended? Would I suddenly be placed on the lower rung of the caste system? Maybe I’m already there. Thanks for reading.

Sincerely,




Why do we even need a slash when we could use the “|” symbol that is is over the “\” key? I mean it seems to make more sense if it were the Film|Marketing Director Assistant internship."

End of an error.

So Toddy Too Hottie packed it up and moved out tonight. After three years of living together I'm not too sure what to think. Here's a list that I've compiled the past few years (past 7 minutes) of things Todd enjoys and a few daily habits. There were really three chapters to his college career. "The Coke Era", "The Diet Coke and Sometimes Coke Zero Era", and "The Post Coke Products Pre Depression Era".

Todd likes:

1) ESPN
2) ESPN II
3) Not leftovers.
4) Having a room that resembles a museum of some sort.
5) Walking around in boxers and hairy chest.
6) "No clue dude."
7) Ruining mornings with morning breath.
8) Sleeping in his jeans once a month.
9) Getting CDs in the mail.
10) Peanut Butter.
11) Catching his toenail clippings.
12) Making as much noise as possible while eating.
13) Keeping his bedroom window open 24/7 365. Not that cold.
14) Large boobs.

Later.

Jamskiheimer.

Spring Time.

I honestly love China.

Zhang Huan doin his mutha fuckin thang, ya feel me?

And then there's every other chinamen...

Let drawers draw.

There has been much debate on whether the UPS guy (Andy Garcia's doppleganger) is actually drawing in the UPS Whiteboard Commercials. When I first saw the commercials I didn't even question whether it was real or not. I just assumed it was. It really didn't/doesn't seem that hard to believe. Sure I thought to myself, this guy is right on the money with that marker. A true marksman! But not once did I think, "Yea right buddy, get real!" The past few weeks it has come on TV as I've been out and I've heard multiple people argue about if whether the guy is actually drawing or if it's done on computers. I mean it is obvious that the newer commercials use enhanced digital graphics because the pictures are moving and shit. If they didn't use computers on those then the ladies better start lining up for Andy Azula because he truly does have magical fingers.

So as more and more people argued about it I started to notice that many more girls (probably a coincidence) didn't believe he was actually drawing. I mean at least 3 girls I know (I can't believe I know more than 2) thought Mr. Azula was full of shit. All of the guys that I asked said they thought he was drawing it but also followed there analyzation up with a "Who really gives a shit?" Fair enough. So after doing a small investigation (that's what they teach us in Advertising) I found the answer. There is a rather extensive analysis of the UPS Whiteboard campaign on Slate that reads, "As an art director who'd made countless storyboards, he also had a knack for fast, fun sketching. (Though a professional illustrator was employed on the set to speed things up by redrawing the whiteboard between takes. 'He had to repress his skills to imitate my style,' says Azula.)"

So Andy is indeed an art director and is actually drawing on the commercials although a professional does redraw the base scene when Mr. Azula's hair gets in his eyes. Azula himself discusses why he was chosen over the actors who auditioned, "I think a lot of the actors had great presence when they faced the camera. But they were actually uncomfortable talking away from the camera and drawing. Turning back and forth and reconnecting with your drawing is a little trickier than it looks." So Andy is drawing on these commercials. I'm not sure if the marks are digitally enhanced to make them look better, but the original lines are actually drawn. It seriously shouldn't be that hard to believe, I mean it's not even as amazing as:

(This could be fake! Let's argue!)

If you still don't believe me:
On the Spot: Martin's Azula
Back to the Drawing Board

But c'mon, is it really that hard to believe?

My real dopplegangster.

I'm Getting Sick But Not Tired.

Getting sick is probably my least favorite activity. Well, it's either that or conversing with Australians. Either way I try my hardest to avoid both. I have become an expert in spotting the arrival of both of these activities relatively quickly. It has taken many years and many horrible experiences. One time I ended up getting a CAT Scan to make sure my brain was OK, the doctor said it was a severe migraine from too much stress. I, however, believe it was caused by an argument with Aussie Assholes I met in Prague just months earlier.

When coming down with a Cold or a Flu I can feel a soreness in the top of my throat. It's not really my throat though because it's the part you feel your snot hit when you suck through your nose really hard, preparing for an ultimate Lou Gee (I wonder if Mr. Gee was a real person, how do YOU spell it?). Once I sense that soreness I know that if I want to avoid the headaches and the neon green snots I must take immediate action. Sensing a conversation with an Australian is ten times easier.
They are usually white, somewhat athletic, tan and shithead looking. Can be confused with Californians but usually a bit more corny.
Confused. "Arrrr Narrr! What happened to me boomerang?". Translation: Arrrr Narrr = Oh No!. Another example: Euro = Eur-arrr.
 So it's best if you just ignore any person that fits any of these stereotypes. Even if they aren't Australian you'll still be doing yourself a favor.

The buildup to these terrible experiences are at least recognizable so make sure you are prepared to handle them effectively. A quick "CRIMINAL!" shout, followed by a finger point to an Australian ought to do the trick. If not, sit there and argue, most of them are still sad this jackass died.
But dealing with a Cold or a Flu is a little bit more complicated. I know some people like to lie down all day and use it as an excuse to get out of doing things and talking to people. Personally, I like to overload my bod with Vitamin C. I drink OJ all day and make sure I don't eat anything too unhealthy. To be honest it works about 85% of the time. I feel like I'm getting sick for the entire day, then the next day I wake up feeling like Michael Jordan must feel everyday.

Today I ran into some big time trouble. When shopping for orange juice I usually settle with the classic Tropicana. But now that I have a job, I felt that I'd treat myself to some high quality organic orange juice that Eddie McCahill loves talking about. Organic Valley Orange Juice is totally fuckin badass. Seriously. When I rode my bike to Strawberry Fields, I was really pumped to begin my pre-Cold/Flu ass kicking. But then I looked at the price tag.

As Mario Panvino would say, "They're trying to gyp me off!"

Almost $9.00 for a 64 oz. carton of Orange Juice. Who in their right mind would pay $9.00 for a juice if it isn't MJ's man-juice? (That's Jordan, not Jackson). At that price, not only should the juice make sure I never get sick but it should also make sure I grow a few inches, I gain better control of my social skills (especially the out of line comments), and cure my eczema.

So I can't really decide which experience is worse. Arguing with Australians can be pretty fun but knowing that you're going to be sick can get you out of many social situations. My worst fear, besides knocking out one of my beautiful teeth, is being sick in Australia. Maybe then I would pay $9.00 for some orange juice. Only if it promised to keep all the dingos away.

Ben Johnson is the man.

Happy Birthday Keira!

Let's make this a good one. After all, it is the year of Michael Jordan.

Stuff White People Like.

I really enjoy reading the blog "Stuff White People Like" (that I have graciously linked for you). Some of the entries are really hilarious but for the most part I think the writer ignores some of the more subtle reasons to make fun of white people. My favorite entries on the "Stuff White People Like" blog are "Apologies", "Knowing What's Best For Poor People", "Difficult Breakups", and "Co-Ed Sports".

I came up with a few of my own.
1) High 5's at social gatherings or maybe just any occasion. Why is it necessary to give everyone around you at a baseball game a High-5 when your team hits a home run? They love to turn to you (a complete stranger) and celebrate something they really had no part in. Not only do they love to invite the community to the High-5 event they're hosting, they love to awkwardly stare into your eyes while they're doing it. Maybe while looking into your eyes they completely forget that they aren't even good at the High-5. They love doing it even though they suck at it, kind of like cooking Mexican food. Oh yeah, they are also the only ones to grab your hand during some High-5's. They grab your hand on contact and then shake it a bit. It's fucking creepy and not cool.

The guy in black is definitely going for the grab and shake.

2) Threatening Police Officers by asking for their badge numbers and telling them they are going to report them. White people love to complain about how "unfair" police officers are being when they get a ticket for running a red light in their Toyota Highlanders on their way to their kid's piano class. "I do not have to take this abuse!" I think someone needs to let these white people in on what the brown population considers "abuse". They also love mentioning what college they attended to make sure they let the police officer know they are "educated". "I have a Master's from The Ohio State University, you won't get away with this". Fuck you.

I guess white people like to make ridiculous expressions too (look at Officer Friendly).

Uh Oh. Mi hombre tiene muchas problemas! Translation: Good luck with that one, Mexican.

3) Talking on their cellphone and waving to the camera when they are in the background of a sporting event. Turn on any sports game (especially baseball, especially the Chicago Cubs) and look in the background. Look at the asshole(s) on their cellphone. Watch them. There. They waved. And they're still waving. And guess what, they're on the phone saying, "Hey can you see me? I'm the one waving". We get the point dude.

Bill White Guy here is just looking for a camera to get in on. (Sorry I surprisingly couldn't find any pictures of Cubs fans yackin it up.)

4) Rehab. Drug addictions are popular among rich white people (and definitely a prerequisite for being a hipster, which is a post for another day). They love to show "deep regret" of their behavior. First they must have some difficult times but the family will be there with "all the support they need". Then, they'll check in and come back saying they found the big J-dogg (Jesus, but really they should be looking for Waldo) or they'll say they want to turn their lives around. Like most drug addicts. They don't. They just like wasting everyone's time and money.

I have so many more.

LuLu.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

These kids have some life choices to make.

Instead of leaving the young ones alone while they reenact their favorite action thrillers, relatives often think it's their JC-given right to continuously ask children what they want to be when they grow up. Has anyone (besides children) ever thought how selfish and ludicrous (unfortunately not the Grammy Award winning lyricist) this fake question is? Technology may have changed the way kids view the world but it hasn't changed the fact that kids don't give a fuck about the world? And why should they? Answers like "a professional baseball player", or "the President of The United States of America", or "Michael Jordan" are common not because these kids actually want to be these things, but because they know an answer like that will get the questioner off their n.u.t.s. (figuratively speaking of course). Becoming Michael Jordan on your 18th birthday would suck especially if you were a 10 year-old kid right now. Do you think these kids want, on their 18th birthdays, to magically transform into a 53 year-old ex-bad-motherfuckin-ass basketball player? Well, maybe that's a bad example. But really c'mon we're not giving these kids enough credit. They give your fake question a fake ass answer. The fact is, we have become so accustomed to asking or being asked this bullshit question that we're convinced that little Katie actually thinks she has a chance at becoming president of the raddest country on the planet. Get real.

The thing is, I try not to kid myself, I know that people aren't going to stop asking this question. So I feel that I should not only give you a reason to ask this ridiculous question but also sniff out the little bullshitters that could use some direction in their lives.

The biggest compliment kids get when they go through puberty is "Oh my, look at how tall and thin you got". Let's ignore the "tall" part of this because I know first-hand that Jesus doesn't love some people as much as others. I mean 5'6" is a piss poor attempt at a "height". But anyways, relatives and strangers alike, love complimenting people on their weight. Not only that, people love being complimented on their weight, if it's not sarcastic of course. When they're young nobody really cares how fat a kid is. "Oh, don't worry, they'll grow out of it", is a lie most parents tell themselves. But that's not the point. As these kids get older they have a choice to become thinner, to start lifting weights, exercising, and eating healthy foods. They have that choice, unlike the choice of growing taller of course. (You can flaunt fake boobs in less than a week after the surgery and they still can't figure out how to make me 5'10", what happened to priorities?) So there is nothing more pleasant than being a fat kid and growing up to be a thin(ner) adult. The compliments will make all those extra Happy Meals and cookies worth it. This all has to do with the fact that they didn't set a high level of expectation others would have of them. They set the bar low and they reap the benefits.

Now conversely, and probably more importantly, think about all the times you ran into someone that knew you but you had no clue who they were (I pray it wasn't the opposite). If it was a childhood friend, the fact that you didn't recognize them most often occurs when the friend decided to spend the last 10 years glazing their arteries with Krispy Kremes. Or maybe it looks like they ate the beanbag chair you could desperately use now because the sight of their disgustingness has got you weak in the knees (and not in the Boyz II Men sense). Seeing someone that has put on lots of lb's since their childhood has placed them at the lower rung of society. If the person had always been fat, it would have just been another day. They set the bar high and failed to live up to it.

The way society ranks people is as follows:
1st) Fat as a kid, ripped-thunder as an adult. Compliments: "Oh my god, you look so great" (and they genuinely mean it).
Tied for 2nd) Stays the same (fat as a kid, fat adult or thin as a kid, thin adult). No surprise with these people, you expected it.
3rd) Thin as a kid, fat as an adult. No genuine compliments: "Wow you look so different! I didn't even recognize you!" Fatass.

If this kid can turn it around he's going to live a genuinely happy life.

This fucktard is setting the bar way too high. His parents better invest in a good psychologist.

So when you ask "What do you want to be when you grow up?", take a good look at the kid. If they're fat, make sure you get an answer that directly says they are (or will become) tired of being fat. If they are skinny, remind them to stay that way or else they will be pushed to the edges of society and never get a genuine response out of anyone again. So you see, we can still guide the youth of America in the right direction. As for me, I was tubby as a kid, I got thinner, got some genuine compliments, then got tubby again and got some "wow you look so different!" 's. But I still want to be Michael Jordan when I grow up.

Governor Gets All Up In That Ass.

(Former Gov. Spitzer hand gestures to 50 Cent's Just a Lil Bit, listen to it.)

We all know that Mr. Spitzer's fellow governors are only "deeply disappointed" and "disgusted" in him because he ruined their upcoming weekends. It is obvious that they are only "deeply disappointed" in the fact that Mr. Spitzert ruined their ho-train. These fellas must think that if they pay enough for intercourse no one will ever find out. So this Emperor's Club V.I.P. is where they turned. According to The New York Times, some of these whore-ski-heimers cost thousands of dollars an hour. None of it really makes sense to me. I would like to think that a governor of a major state (California not included) could easily find a good looking young college girl to "pass amendments" on (sorry). I guess I wouldn't "like" to think, but it seems to make sense to me. If Michael Jackson can find a human woman to love, anything is possible. After looking at pictures of Mr. Spitzer, it becomes clearer why he had to pay top dollar. I personally don't think his bad judgement in hiring prostitutes was his downfall. It is much more simple than that.

After trying to see if there was a 'Clearance' section on the Emperor's Club V.I.P.website (the site is closed down and I have my fingers crossed that they might have an "Everything Must Go!" sale, my birthday is in a few weeks, hint hint) I started to think like a governor to figure out why he chose the girl he chose. It was obvious that he didn't want to go for the $4000/hour women, he didn't want to make it too obvious. Instead he settled for Ashley Alexandra Dupré, a 22 year-old hardbody who only charges $1000/hour and who has lived a tough life. Maybe.
She is definitely a very pretty girl. I will admit that. That is not where Mr. Spitzer made a wrong turn. I'm sure this girl has good intentions to live and maintain a life that is free of money worries. I can't blame her for that. Who am I to say she is wrong? In no way do I think she is a bad person for any of those decisions. Seriously. However, I do believe there is one thing that should have been flashing red lights to Mr. Spitzer. MySpace. This is the lapse in judgement. If Mr. Spitzer was with it he would have checked out MySpace just to be safe. I mean this girl could have been blogging about every little detail, position, and whatever else that could have ruined his career. Most importantly, what kind of "high class" prostitute is on MySpace? I believe this is a good comment on what e-networking has done to American culture. Even our "high class" hoz hillbilly it up on MySpace. Back in the day these girls were treated like nobility (which is also kind of sad/weird). It is sad enough people rarely meet other humans in a social (real-life) setting. Now even our governors can't find a way to cheat on their wives without ordering a girl online, a girl who is part of an e-community that is solely designed to fund the television show "To Catch a Predator". Maybe the FBI should have exposed the story that way. Brought Mr. Spitzer into the hotel room where Chris Hansen would have totally embarrassed the shit out of the dude and read the "special suggestions" part of the order form out loud, exposing Spitzer to the entire world. So Mr. Spitzer, please make better decisions in the future. If you choose to take advantage of 20-somethings, find them in the real world. Life is about choices, so choose them bitches wisely.

P.S. Ashley Alexandra Dupré, what's up girl? You, Me, & Dupré! (sorry, again)

Spring Break 2k8!

(It's weird but it's google. Sorry Ma.)

It's pretty hilarious to think that my parents and a good part of my mom's side of the family are in Cancun, Mexico right now. I came up with a wish list:

1) I hope Al understands what 'hola' means this time around.
2) I hope Barb and Al have yelled at frat brothers and sorority sisters for being inappropriate.
3) I hope Al has to resort to the truth when telling people his ethnicity, to avoid any confusion with choice of language.
4) I hope Mexicans don't believe Al's claims to not be Mexican.
5) That's all I hope.

Just call me Mr. C

After College, Before a Job

After Unemployment, Before a Career

After a few grueling months of movie-watching and life-decision-making I am finally employed as a substitute teacher. To a certain extent, it goes to show how overlooked American education systems are. Topic for another day. I tried to not have many expectations because deep down inside I knew all of the teachers weren't going to be 23-year-old, 5'5" and under, single women, seeking an understanding and (somewhat) open-minded tri-racial funny-man. So I walked in knowing that there were going to be some challenges, but I didn't let them stand in the way. I reassured myself by repeating "If Ivica can do this, I can do this". Actually, I'm starting to think that statement is more of a mantra at this point. For the most part, the teachers have been nothing but pleasant and helpful. When I try to get the kids in the back of the room to stop break-dancing on their desks, the neighboring teachers are quick to come to aid and lay the experienced smack-down on them. For the most part, it has been an interesting experience. So far a kid managed to permanently ruin one side of the classroom for an entire day by dropping bombs. Pretty disgusting. "You our teacher today? You little!", has been said to me at least a half-dozen times. I've been told that I would be met outside after school by a group of 7th graders. I was excited for the invite, thinking we would play basketball and maybe even go to the mall to get an Auntie Anne's pretzel or maybe even a Great American Cookie, but I soon realized the invite was strictly for a game that I am not familiar with and/or interested in...fisticuffs. I wisely declined.

The students have very colorful imaginations and I think the most rewarding part of the job is listening to their explanations of certain things. If the young adults from Urbana Middle School were to explain me to a stranger, this is what they would come up with. I would be anywhere from the age range of 17-48. I would be unanimously Chinese. I would love to wear "skin-tight Dickies". I would have "bright teeth". I would be "little as hell". I would have 0-15 girlfriends. I would like rap music. I would have that "China hair". I am just looking forward to whatever else they can come up with. As for now, these kids are dead-on.

P.S. Can you tell that I had to teach a lesson on when and how to use hyphens? Can you also tell I still have no fucking clue on when and how to use one?

Shake ya tail feather.

I was going to write about how The USA desperately needs a president who has some sort of rhythm in their dance step. Obama girl was way ahead of me on this one. I guess I'm not as original as I thought I was.

The bright side of Unofficial.

Unofficial is a lot of things. A lot of terrible things. However, I was taught to always look at both sides of a story and try to at least recognize some of the positives of such events. A day where it's completely alright to act like a total fucking fool doesn't really seem to have many upsides. There's the 'Officially Fucked Up' neon green shirts, the public display of "irish"-ness which by now everyone is completely tired of, the drunk people in class, etc. But let's take a step back and look at Unofficial through a darker set of eyes. Like most moronic things hosted here on campus, Unofficial is sponsored by, with no surprise, white people. White people love to make up a day where they can celebrate being white (kind of like Thanksgiving and every single day here at University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign). There are some prerequisites for such days. 1)You must pre-order shirts that have a play on words and are an obnoxious color. 2)You must act like your parents never taught you any type of manners whatsoever. 3)You have to brag how much you can do something, usually how much beer you can 'slam'. There are many more but these are probably the most important. White people love this shit. But to be fair, there are a good amount of Latinos (almost called them Hispanics, oh no!), Asians, and African-Americans that partake in the silliness. Actually, scratch that on the black people, I'm not going to accept that they actually wear green shirts for that shit. I can't say that these brown people should be ashamed of themselves because they are trying to fit in and have a good time just like everyone else. But the Jose's and Juan's on campus should get over the fact that the tannest person in Ireland is just 2 shades up from neon-white.

With all that being said Unofficial is officially Brown People Day. On campus, which is mostly white, you can't go anywhere without seeing orange skin, 'blonde' hair, backwards hats, NorthFace, and all kinds of other awesome shit. But on Unofficial we have the reverse effect. While all of these people wait in lines to get into CO's or KAM's, there is a significant absence of fake things in campus facilities. For example, I went to the gym yesterday to get my ripped-thunder on and there were ellipticals that weren't being used! It was surreal. Then I started to look around and began to wonder why I felt so god damn comfortable. There were no babes to check out but there was this feeling that for once (besides in China) I was in the majority. It was an unbelievable feeling. Everywhere I looked there was brown people. Brown people doing pushups, brown people running on the treadmills, brown people running around the track, brown people playing basketball...well I guess there's really nothing new about that. I can't stress how weird/exciting it was. Here a brown person, there a brown person, everywhere a brown person!
So next year maybe I'll make some shirts for our Official holiday. I'm already starting to think of some ideas for the shirts. So far I've got. 'White People Suck. Official Brown People Day". "Now you don't have to hear every detail of the frat brother's sex life in the Undergrad". "Brown people elliptical too!". I guess they're not nearly as clever as the Unofficial shirts but we have a year to come up with some.
But seriously, as I was riding my bike home last night I was beginning to think about how great the majority feeling was. I then came up with the idea that the feeling was so great that we should make a holiday out of it. A day we can go to the bars and show off our unity in the brown people community. Then I realized, the white people already beat us to it! How unfair! I mean, our day would have more police dogs and mass arrests and general harassment but I guess celebrating something like this would be the same sort of ignorance that is praised on this campus. So as I rode home trying to put the day into perspective I heard from a third floor balcony, "Hey check out that ASIAN dude totally riding that red bike! ROCK ON ASIAN DUDE!" Putting it into perspective was never so easy.