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[Sep. 28th, 2006|11:39 pm] |
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My favorite part about running water is how I don't have any right now. Seriously, who the hell turns on their sink at 11:30 only to find that nothing comes out? |
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| College Looms |
[Aug. 16th, 2006|12:03 am] |
So uh...here's a college essay that I'm submitting for the common app since one of the topics is "a memorable experience". Feedback would be super swell(about the topic/essay as a whole, not massive proofreading).
( Read more... ) |
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| Did you know? |
[Apr. 9th, 2006|05:19 pm] |
That turtle egg is pretty much the worst thing you can call someone in Chinese? Fascinating isn't it? Okay, now that you've all learned something from reading this entry, I think that it's time for a little story.
( Read more... ) |
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| Goated. |
[Apr. 5th, 2006|04:50 pm] |
Well, it's kind of funny how this class of Microeconomics works. It started ordinarily enough, with myself making stupid commments and Mr. Raabe being amused and annoyed at the same time. Soon, however, we started talking about "poison pills" and how to prevent a firm from being taken over. Raabe decided to use Ben and Jerry's as an example, and explained to us how it's not beneficial for them to be the victim of hostile takeover, because they require that all of their milk be bought from Vermont. At this point we started going off on a bit of a tangent, and discussed milk prices, with a conversation something along the lines of:
Class: "Milk is cheaper in Wisconsin, Indonesia, etc."
Raabe: "Yes, why don't we name off all 270 countries and some states while we're at it?"
Me: "What about Ethiopia? Wouldn't their goat milk be cheaper since they get goat donations from people and they're poor?"
Raabe: "Clarence, you're making this stuff up aren't you?"
Me(lying): "No, I'm serious."
Raabe: "I expect a one page essay on the price of Ethiopian goat milk by Monday. I'm serious."
Me: *Cry*
So yeah, apparently it's kind of hard to find information about goat milk prices in Ethiopia through google. In fact, it's kind of hard to find any important information about Ethiopia at all, since I'm not sure if they have the internet. At any rate, I have this paper due on Monday that I actually have to do, since Raabe said that he'll crush my grade if I don't do it. So my question is this: Would anyone happen to have some random facts about Ethiopian (goat) milk, or have the ability to make a fake web page that compares the price of milk in several countries? |
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| God. DAMNIT |
[Feb. 27th, 2006|06:54 pm] |
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20 days since my last entry. Of course, as most of you know, it hasn't exactly been 20 days without any sort of fun filled event. So rewind to Friday, February 17, and ( let the fun begin. ) |
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| What.The.FUCK |
[Feb. 16th, 2006|05:49 pm] |
So apparently today was the first snow day that our school district has had since February 2001. This should have pretty much been a mental orgasm, since I hadn't done my homework from the night before. Unfortunately, I didn't really know that it was a snow day until I started driving to school.
( Did I say driving? )
So I procrastinated finishing this entry for hella long. I did get stuck three times the next day, when I had to drive through all of that shit. Of course, getting stuck in the snow is no longer relevant for me, seeing as how I'm in a bit of a...whale fuck. |
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| Six Feet Deep is the Incision |
[Feb. 7th, 2006|08:00 pm] |
I swear to God. I am so sick of almost dying. Really, it's getting ridiculous. At this point, I'm fairly sure that God is in fact a woman. Honestly, she needs to make up her fucking mind already. Either she can kill me, or she can leave me the hell alone. "Somewhere in between" is not an option. Anyway, I'm sure that all of you are expecting a story now, and of course I hate to disappoint. In fact, I have two stories for this entry, both of which involve a certain 1999 Toyota Corolla (I really need to name my car. Any ideas people?)
( Story Time! ) |
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| It's that time again |
[Feb. 1st, 2006|07:47 pm] |
Today was fairly awkward and unpleasant. My morning was the normal, boring "drive to school and try to not die" kind of thing, and nothing really interesting happened. Fast forward to lunch, however, and the fun begins. It all started when I remembered that I had a physics homework check today, and that I hadn't quite finished the assignment. "No big deal,", I say to myself, "I'll just do it now since it's lunch." Unfortunately, I search my backpack extensively and find that I'm at a distinct lack of physics notebook. I then remembered that I left the notebook at home on my bed. "Okay, whatever. It's lunch, and I should be able to make it back before fifth hour," I thought.
Several minutes later, I find myself driving down Mineral Point Road, which is a few miles from my house. Everything is fine, until I glance at my speedometer. And when I say speedometer, I really mean the gas meter to the left of the speedometer. You see, F and E are these two letters in the alphabet that are kind of right next to each other. F usually means that you're fine, and E means that you're extremely fucked. Unfortunately, the arrow on my gas meter was kind of below the E. In fact, the arrow was super below the E, and my gas light thing was blinking so fast that it almost gave me a seizure. "That's unfortunate," I thought, "but it's okay, because I'll just pull into this gas station up ahead." I manage to turn into the gas station. As I'm praising God for my unusual luck, however, my car stalls. Then it stops. Then it turns off completely.
"No problem. I'll just explain the situation the the guy working in the gas station and buy some gas." I fumbled into my wallet, and pulled out the most depressing two dollars of my life. Thoroughly annoyed and embarassed, I nonetheless walked into the gas station and asked the man for a bucket to fill up two dollars worth of gas. By this point I would've been perfectly content to just fill up my pathetic pail of gas, and then be on my way. Of course, I never get to be perfectly content. As I was filling the bucket up, I kind of messed up with the gas nozzle and spray a good $.75 worth all over the ground. Disgruntled, I paid the man for the gas and managed to return to school on the back of my $1.25 of gas, which had probably turned to vapor at this point.
You'd think that this would be the end of my for today, but no. After 6th period, as I was walking down the hall, I engaged in a conversation about a prop volcano. Now, this wasn't just any volcano. No, this thing was quite phallic, and it actually spewed stuff out. To sum the events up, I pretty much said something like, "so basically it's a giant exploding penis" in a relatively loud voice. Instantly, Ms. Staley, an older teacher who reminds me of a nice, TV grandmother who spends her time knitting, appeared in front of me. She then gave me the most demeaning look ever, which I replied to with, "HI MS. STALEY!" in an even louder voice than I had earlier used. At that point, I was pretty sure that she nonverbally said something like, "Is it too late for me to fail you for last semester?"
Anyway, I'm thinking about retelling a special story of mine from eigth grade. For those of you in the know (*cough, Holly, cough*), it involves the following:
1)Nose
2)Geometry Book
3)Kelby |
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| Rednecks and Red Vines Galore |
[Jan. 29th, 2006|02:58 pm] |
I've been fairly lazy recently, and updating this blog takes far too much time. Anyway, I went to Rob Schell's party last night. It was...interesting...to say the least. And I don't mean the kind of shady ass, sparkle juiced interesting. No, I'm referring to the, "What the fuck, why were you at a monster truck rally?" type of interesting. I honestly have no answer to such a question, but the night was pretty memorable. The night started with a congregation at Mr. Schell's house. There was much festivity, and a good deal of confectionary. Everyone was having a good time, and we headed off to the Alliant Energy Center to see the monster trucks. Aside from having to listen to Dirty Sanchez (yes, it's the name of a band), the drive was fairly uneventful.
( Read more... )
So that was the extent of my sparkle free, redneck filled weekend. Red Vines and Mr. Pibb are indeed crazy delicious. I'm sure that this weekend of mine paled in comparison to you musical kids, who had a fucking door fall in the middle of your performance.
In other news, my sister is probably the bitchiest 7 year old in the history of the universe. She just got into an argument with my mom about violin practice, which resulted in a dry-erase board set across from my mom at the dinner table with "I HATE MOM-MY!!!!!!!!!!!!!" plaquered onto it in enormous letters. |
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| I'm Alive?! |
[Jan. 25th, 2006|05:32 pm] |
Today was kind of an interesting day. It started with my car coming home repaired. Now, my parents at this point had promised me that I would never go anywhere near a steering wheel for the next three years. I, however, managed to use my massive Asian negotiating talents and convinced them to let me drive to school. Basically, my argument was something along the lines of, "you don't want to pay for my funeral when I die later because I didn't know how to drive". After hundreds of more logical fallacies, I soon found myself behind the wheel of my old automobile friend, driving toward school.
( Read more... ) |
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| How Boring |
[Jan. 24th, 2006|06:28 pm] |
For the first time in forever, nothing unfortunate has happened to me. Since this would be a pretty lame update without a story, I'll just renarrate something that did happen to one of my friends. For the sake of anonymity, let's call him Frankenstein.
( Read more... )
It's stories like these that make me less depressed, since I know that I'm not alone in the world. |
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| The M in Monday is for Misery |
[Jan. 23rd, 2006|06:06 pm] |
Today was probably the first day in a while where something violent didn't happen to me. Instead, something rather violent happened to this expensive device of mine. It WAS called a cell phone. Anyway, this story begins in the morning. Although I am thoroughly depressed for it being Monday, I nonetheless get up and brush my teeth. As I'm brushing, I notice my cell phone lying on the edge of the sink. "Hmm, that's interesting. I should charge it soon." Unfortunately, as I was thinking this the phone begins to vibrate. Being the lazy guy that I am, I decide to let in ring with the intention of calling the person back after I'm done brushing my teeth. This never actually happened. After about four "HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmms" from my phone, the fifth ring came in the form of a "HMMMMMMMMMMMM*SPLOSH*". Fearing for the worst, I glanced down and looked in the toilet. There my phone was, making bubbles from its incessant ringing. Fortunately, the only thing besides my phone in the toilet was good old Dihydrogen Monoxide. I reached in, grabbed it, and luckily enough everything was broken. Honestly, what did you expect any other result? This concludes my rather lame story for the morning. In fact, my day was pretty lame overall. In fact, it was so lame that I'm going to pad my update.
( January 8, 2006 )
On a lighter note, Asian Panda Cookies are maliciously delicious. Notice the picture of the mama panda and the baby panda. After I was about halfway done with this one, it was a baby panda with a pair of bloody legs (the filling is strawberry). Anyway, stay safe, have fun, and if you're feeling down, remember that your life will pretty much never be as awful as mine. |
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| Maybe God is trying to say something... |
[Jan. 22nd, 2006|12:18 pm] |
I'm pretty sure that this isn't going to end up being a very good weekend. On top of almost dying on Friday, I also had another little escapade on Saturday night. And when I say escapade, I mean that I ( almost died. )
I figure by now that God must either really really love me, or that he hasn't killed me yet because he's enjoying my pain. |
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| WTF SNOW |
[Jan. 20th, 2006|11:18 pm] |
So there's this friendly little substance out there, and for the sake of this entry, I'm going to call it sparkle juice. There's also this not so friendly substance out there, that's white and powdery, kind of like cocaine, except that it probably causes more deaths per year. Anyway, when you combine the two, you in fact do not get a sparkle juice snow cone. Instead you get the most violent night that I have ever experienced in my life. It all started after my Networking final, which I was kind of bummed about since I pretty much failed. As I arrive home, I receive a phone call from a friend.
( Read more... ) |
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| Violencia en TODOS de mis pantalones |
[Jan. 19th, 2006|05:07 pm] |
Like most of you fine people, I too had eighth and first hour finals today. Now, most people would just accept this fact and move on with live. Most people, however, do NOT have the awful that is Mr. Barry Kolbe first hour every day. So I wake up, do my thing, and take my eighth hour final courtesy of Mr. Vander Ark. It wasn't too bad, besides the whole "I don't know any of this shit because I was too busy studying for Calc" deal. Anyway, I look at the clock, and notice that it's around 10:00 AM. "Fantastic," I think to myself, "only an hour and a half of this hell left for today." Little did I know that this would be the worst ninety minutes of my life. I had known coming into finals week that I needed to do well on this Calc test to keep my grade, and had tried to prepare thoroughly as a result. Guess what? You can't prepare for death. God damnit. This Calc test was Gandalf the fucking Grey, shouting, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS". It was the Rock laying the smackdown all over my body. It was...it was awful. When I stepped out of that room at 11:45, I realized that both my health and my pride would never be the same again. On the bright side, I did take a consolation trip to Olive Garden to try to heal my wounds. Once there, and after waiting "45 minutes" (it was more like 5) for our table, I began to tell a story.
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A few months ago, 2005
So there I was, visiting my friend in Verona. I was pretty pumped, since we hadn't done anything for a while. Now, this is no ordinary friend of mine. Oh no. This kid happened to be a farmer, living on the outskirts of town near Mount Horeb. At any rate, I figured that we could at least play with the random cows and stuff if we got bored. I arrive at his house and knock on his door, filled with thoughts of a pleasant, incident free day. His mom answers, and kindly tells me that he's helping out his dad in the barn. I, of course, foolishly decide to walk to the barn and meet him there. As I ambled along, gazing up at the sun, I noticed that the ground below me had changed texture. I also noticed that I started sinking. Looking down, I notice that I was in a large...pool...of what seemed to be dirt. Hell, who am I kidding? It was a giant hole of cow manure. To comperehend the MAGNITUDE of this thing, I want you to imagine the largest cow patty that you've ever seen. Magnify this by about one hundred times, and you have the very corner of what I was stepping in. It was up to my thighs for Christ's sake. For the next five minutes, I simply stood there, holding my arms up, looking toward the sky, and screaming "SON OF A BITCH" at the top of my lungs. Ahh, cosmic irony at its best. Eventually I did get out. My poor shoes, however, never saw the light of day again. So if you ever bite into some low quality corn and find a strange piece of rubber lodged inside, then that said corn was probably fertilized by the world's largest pile of cow manure.
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So I've come to the conclusion that my life sucks ass. I could start being emo and cut myself, but that seems rather unpleasant and messy. Instead, I'll just take a nap or something in order to waste more time, since I'm done posting this beast of an update. |
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| Corrupted I have been |
[Jan. 18th, 2006|05:14 pm] |
Blogs. You either love them or you hate him. I've always felt the latter about them, and as a result, have avoided them like AIDS. But it's finals week, so instead of doing something productive like studying for math, I'm going to give into peer pressure and make one of these damn things. Anyway, I'm going to be honest. I doubt that anyone will ever read these posts, and I doubt that I care too much. At any rate, my plan is to make this vile thing into a compilation of all of my rather "interesting" escapades, rather than random emo musings about cutting my wrists (although I'm sure that you'll hear plenty of that later on).
As many of you are already aware, I'm kind of in need right now. Fuck, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I owe my parents eight thousand dollars. That's a dollar sign, followed by an eight and three zeroes. This terrible blog of mine is in fact part of my scheme to raise this vast amount of money. "Wow, that's a lot of money/bling/pesos," you say, "and why do you owe it all to your parents?" Well, it'd almost be a funny story, if I didn't hate it so much. I'm sure that all of you have already heard me moaning about it at some point or another, but for those of you who haven't, here it is in all of its fine, gory detail.
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Friday, December 15
I feel like the king of the world. I came, I saw, and I conquered the bane of teenage existance that is the road test. Hell, I even managed to acquire my own car, along with some *very* limited insurance (which I of course didn't find out about until later). At any rate, it's Friday night, and my dearest mother asks me if I'd like to drive to a random social gathering of mine. I jump at the chance, since after all, I am Asian, and I was foolishly confident in my driving abilities. This turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. Unfortunately, my mom decides to arrive home at 5:55ish, and then proceeds to drive off to the Dells, leaving me with the house to myself and about five minutes to get to my destination. Now, at this point I could lie to you and say that I remained calm and devised a brilliant plan to create a time machine, but I've already made it pretty obvious that I chose instead to freak out like a little girl. Once I was on the road, it *obviously* made sense to follow the guy in front of me as close as I possibly could, while driving about 40 miles over the speed limit. I'll avoid delving into further detail, but the end result was me slowing down to about 20 miles per hour, and then ramming the ass of a rare exotic Jaguar. Once I saw my hood rising up into an awkward position, I was fairly certain that I was going to take a trip up shit creek. I was wrong. Shit creek? Try shit lake, shit bay, the gulf of shit, or the shitific ocean. About five seconds after I hit the Jaguar, I heard a loud, angry, and most certainly violent "FUCK". Out stepped a brash, red faced, and extremely pissed off white man. "FUCK" was the word of the night, as his mouth and my thoughts made a beautiful symphony of profanity inside of my mind. Anyway, some stuff goes down, the cops get called, and I end up admitting to them that my parents aren't home. The cop is actually a pretty nice guy, and gives me some contact information to give to my parents once they return. The smart thing to do at this point would be to call my parents, tell them about the accident, and pray to Jesus, Buddah, and my ancestors that they'd let me off with my vital organs intact.
That would've been the smart thing to do, but as you can tell, I wasn't exactly the smartest that evening. Instead of telling my parents, it made much more sense to me at the time to hide my car in the woods. My parents come home the next day, and of course they ask me where the car is. Being the honest, upright person that I am, I of course lie to their faces. "It's at a friend's house; I got a ride home and didn't have time to pick it up." A lame excuse, I know, but it was apparently good enough for them. Fast forward to Monday afternoon, and I'm greeted at the door by a flying metal vase about three inches from my face. Violence ensued, and I soon found myself retrieving my car from the woods. A day or so later, I am the proud owner of a $3500 debt. Now, as I was lamenting my loss of innocence and contemplating on the best way to make $3500 out of my spare kidney, I find that the $3500 was only for my car. The damage to the Jaguar wasn't very extensive, and was only around $4500. And this is the part where my life officially begins to suck. Hard. In my panic, I added the two numbers together, and got $7000. "That's awful," I thought to myself. Not only was I a broke Asian, I was also a broke Asian who happened to be bad at math. $4500 + $3500 = $8000, which is more than a single kidney can cover. I laughed at my fate, and the fact that I was recently forced by mommy and daddy to quit my job at Target, because it was detrimental to my academic success (or some other bullshit along those lines). My parents, being the reasonable people that they are, told me that I needed to find some other way of raising this exuberant amount of money without returning to work, because "studies always come first". I cursed, and calmly returned to my room to contemplate the most profitable way to commit suicide.
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Yeah, that's pretty much the full story of my life right now. Hopefully writing this blog will somehow result in finding a way to raise $8000. If not, then at least I can entertain you people with some amusing stories about my life (yes, there are more). Until I update this vile thing again, I bid you all a fond farewell. |
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