Tag Archives: Asians

Fashion First.

4 Aug

I think instead of a “poke” button on Facebook, they should have a “pork” button.  Cole Martin porked Jessica Batten. Then everyone would know who was having sex with who.

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I ate an extra cheesy pizza Lunchable today. It reminded me of sitting in the back of the bus in overalls during a zoo field trip, attempting to stab a hole through an impenetrable Capri Sun. They used to make those things bullet proof. You basically needed a machine gun to get your straw into the container. You always had to pass your beverage around to your classmates to see if anyone could force entry into the foil pouch. By the time you got the straw in, you were exhausted and dehydrated and needed it pumped directly into your bloodstream.

The other thing about pizza Lunchables is that in the beginning as you assemble the first mini pizza, you feel like there is no possible way those two tiny piles of cheese are going to last you through the third pizza, so you do this cheese-reserve thing and your first pizza comes out like a food stamp ration. By the third pizza, you realize you have way over compensated. You’ve saved so much cheese you have too much to even fit on the third crust. That pizza is always the best one.

Anyway, back to the Lunchable.

A few months ago, the Lunchables caught my eye in the grocery store, and I thought, “Ooh! I could go for one of those.”  Then I remembered I didn’t own a microwave.

You’re confused. Listen, I microwave my Lunchables, and I don’t give a f-ck what you think about it. I like to melt the cheese and heat up the sauce. Is that a crime? It’s my life.

Recently, Trent looted a microwave that was on its way to the dumpster from a neighboring office, and now we finally have one. I went ahead and stocked up on a couple pizza Lunchables, and I couldn’t be happier.

I spent several hours in various airports last weekend in lieu of my trip back to Iowa, so I had a nice opportunity to see some real freaks. Let me start with the Asians. One of the Asians I saw was a young woman who appeared to be about 20 years old. She looked pretty normal at eye level, but then I looked down at her feet. She was wearing blue flip flops that had dozens of tiny pink and blue pastel colored inflated balloons that simulated bath bubbles, and each sandal had a tiny rubber duck on it.

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The next Asian I laid eyes on was a woman in her thirties. She was wearing a translucent red plastic sun visor that had a solar powered fan that was positioned on the bill of the cap, pointing toward her face. It was pretty bad. It got worse though when her four year old son appeared with a matching solar powered visor in black.

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Later I glanced down to see a man with “BORN TO F-CK” tattooed on his toes, each letter on a single toe. That was an interesting choice.

Lastly, good old SkyMall had some material to gawk at as well. How about this douche:

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Oh great! They make it in cadet style. I’m not sure which is worse—the hat, or the tool’s face in the ad.

Back to the Asians. What is wrong with them?  Their style is so rotten. They’ve lost their minds. Why can’t they stick to things that they’re good at like developing technology and making fried rice? Stay away from the fashion industry, zipperheads. You can’t do it right.

Boy do I like their food though.

I’m having a lovely time with my new Droid X2. It’s taking a little while to teach it all the cuss words, but it’s catching on quickly. I am a little sad about the battery life, although what can I expect from it when I’m playing with it 16 hours a day.

WELL, that’s all for now, gals and non-gals. Cheerio.

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“You can’t pee in here, Wilfred.”

“Why? Everybody else is!”

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Larger than life.

12 May

Why do the fattest people drive the tiniest cars?

On too many occasions I have watched Free Willy waddle from the exit at Burger King to their tiny Chevy Cavalier, come crashing down into the driver’s seat, noticeably shifting the car into a deep driver’s side lunge of sorts. It’s like watching someone sit on a see-saw with no partner. The car is practically driving on two wheels. It is going to tip over. Is this safe? It’s like, you don’t put a bottle-nosed dolphin in a jacuzzi. You put it in an enormous whale tank at Sea World. You don’t put a German shepherd in a hamster cage. You don’t put Bruce Vilanch in a Hyundai Accent. I guess I thought this was just common sense.

UUUGGGHHHHH, I am dreading my 6 finals this semester.

JuSt KiDDiNg, I’m a college drop out. I always know when it’s finals time, because viewings of my blog spike dramatically. People would much rather read about my life and the things that I despise than bury their faces in their political science study guides. It’s not rocket science.

I’m not sure how the Asians do it, but they do not age like other human beings of different nationalities. Asians remain youthful looking for years and years, not showing a single telltale aging sign such as a wrinkle or grey hair as they creep upward in age. Then all of a sudden when they hit like 80 years old, it comes all at once. They lose 2 inches off their overall height, their hair turns white, and their eyelids sag down to their upper lip. They go from spry to nursing home in the blink of an eye.

Typical aging progression pattern of an Asian:

Age 20:

Age 35:

Age 50:

Age 65:


Age 80:

Age 81:

It’s weird.

This is all too familiar:

http://www.explosm.net/comics/2396/

I hate sitting down on the toilet to do my business and then realizing I’ve forgotten to grab my cell phone to entertain me for the long haul. At that point I’m already too committed to the deuce that I can’t just get up and waddle to the kitchen to grab my Blackberry off the counter. It’s too late. I’m stuck. I must lay in the bed I made for myself, as it were. Time seems to run on and on. I find myself grabbing at anything within arm’s reach that has words on it. Next thing I know, I’m reading the active ingredients in Degree Body Response deodorant like it’s the New York Times.

WELL, I’m off to probably do exactly what I just described. Goodbye.

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C:  Oh no. There is a ‘glitch’ in the restrooms at the wedding reception.

B:  Jesus take the wheel.