1. its effing cold.
2. i miss home
3. efffffing coooold.
4. i love pizza
5. i shouldn't have left
6. im coming back on the 17th.
2. i miss home
3. efffffing coooold.
4. i love pizza
5. i shouldn't have left
6. im coming back on the 17th.
being chinese, the concept of xmas seems rooted only in the concept of "vacation days"...it seems forcefully contrived to have a family gathering, which is no different than a sunday lunch. for us, there's zero preparation and planning, and the big roasts (turkey, ham) are never necessity items for the elders as they exclusively prefer asian dishes. no one is going notice im not making the roast this year, no one is going to notice we don't have a tree up this year and if u did show up with presents u'd be the odd one out. bottom line is, there's a huge difference when holidays lack tradition. (huge disparity with chinese xmas' and chinese new year). and while 2nd generations try to create their niche in the western holidays, it seems the only staple is the night before the eve of the holiday. the night before a half day at work, the last night to hang out with friends and paint the town.
if we brought back 2005, we'd be taking a million pictures. unfortunately i have none. but to recap.
1. we went to noraebang for the sole purpose of franks frank. instead he decided to throw popcorn around.
2. drew, without looking at the music book, punched in 5 numbers and out comes "OTOWN ALL OR NOTHING". WTF!@#@!#!@#
3. fig & olive is overrated.
4. espresso in the middle of a huge night out doesn't make the stomach feel to nice the next morning.
if we brought back 2005, we'd be taking a million pictures. unfortunately i have none. but to recap.
1. we went to noraebang for the sole purpose of franks frank. instead he decided to throw popcorn around.
2. drew, without looking at the music book, punched in 5 numbers and out comes "OTOWN ALL OR NOTHING". WTF!@#@!#!@#
3. fig & olive is overrated.
4. espresso in the middle of a huge night out doesn't make the stomach feel to nice the next morning.
about 6 vodka soda's into dinner...i hear this....
"what u think ideally makes u happy and what in reality, actually makes u happy....are two different things"
"what u think ideally makes u happy and what in reality, actually makes u happy....are two different things"
while munching on an egg/sourcream/salami/siracha sandwich, this mornings breakfast question was at hand....
"with all factors considered, when in a relationship, what is a reasonable number of times for sex a week?"
"with all factors considered, when in a relationship, what is a reasonable number of times for sex a week?"
i just had a beef pattie...
not good.
blegh.
not good.
blegh.
a bit detached from the blog and a bit lost on where to pick up the pieces. but here goes a quick one....
there's a recession. a big big big recession. it's easy to say, but weird to feel it. every shop in the city has sales from 25-75% off. there's full inventory and no one in the stores. and after shopping all of soho and greeted with all the sales.i buy the one thing that is full price and owned by my buddy. JUMP shoes. for the people.
it's friggin cold. i haven't shoveled snow in ages. i haven't felt like my frigid face was about to fall off in ages either. i haven't eaten muenster cheese, ny pizza, kunjip, liverwurst, meatball sub, lucky strike, gameeok, Nha Hang Pho Viet Huong delivery...in ages either! ahh, the gameeok night. ricks. 8.8k tab. was it worth it? and i quote "i felt a lil guilty, but...it was awesome!"
i want a beef pattie.
then there's the morning after. the morning after thom bar. the morning after lower east side. the morning after kunjip. the morning after samgyupsul. "how you feeling?" rRRRRrRRRRIIIIIIiIiiIIIIPPpPpP "much better"...."ps3?" "ok"...."xbox?" "ok". productivity is inverted. except when it comes time to BANDIT.
apparently, the bandito has been upgraded. modern day bandito comes with an iphone and mobile browsing...back in full swing!
taisho tonight.
here's some missing pix...
held down with a bottle shoved down my throat
look at dem lips!
apparently everyone has a GF????
hoan still has the smallest waist in the picture....and he still dresses up like a cheerleader in his spare time.
this is the guy that used to preach to me about "treating your fish good", "michael jordan" and "do u know shirley du?". now he's looking to buy a chih hua hua....hahah...funny balls...
the only other degenerate i know that i always see out thanksgiving and xmas night.....rock on!
there's a recession. a big big big recession. it's easy to say, but weird to feel it. every shop in the city has sales from 25-75% off. there's full inventory and no one in the stores. and after shopping all of soho and greeted with all the sales.i buy the one thing that is full price and owned by my buddy. JUMP shoes. for the people.
it's friggin cold. i haven't shoveled snow in ages. i haven't felt like my frigid face was about to fall off in ages either. i haven't eaten muenster cheese, ny pizza, kunjip, liverwurst, meatball sub, lucky strike, gameeok, Nha Hang Pho Viet Huong delivery...in ages either! ahh, the gameeok night. ricks. 8.8k tab. was it worth it? and i quote "i felt a lil guilty, but...it was awesome!"
i want a beef pattie.
then there's the morning after. the morning after thom bar. the morning after lower east side. the morning after kunjip. the morning after samgyupsul. "how you feeling?" rRRRRrRRRRIIIIIIiIiiIIIIPPpPpP "much better"...."ps3?" "ok"...."xbox?" "ok". productivity is inverted. except when it comes time to BANDIT.
apparently, the bandito has been upgraded. modern day bandito comes with an iphone and mobile browsing...back in full swing!
taisho tonight.
here's some missing pix...
held down with a bottle shoved down my throat
look at dem lips!
apparently everyone has a GF????
hoan still has the smallest waist in the picture....and he still dresses up like a cheerleader in his spare time.
this is the guy that used to preach to me about "treating your fish good", "michael jordan" and "do u know shirley du?". now he's looking to buy a chih hua hua....hahah...funny balls...
the only other degenerate i know that i always see out thanksgiving and xmas night.....rock on!
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4 days of hanging out with victor....
and all my clothes feel ridiculously tight...
why?
samgyupsul @ 4am!
jeezus.
and all my clothes feel ridiculously tight...
why?
samgyupsul @ 4am!
jeezus.
hey will, u remember these pics? cuz i don't. and what the heck is on my wrist?
what's better? apple tv? or xbox live with netflix?
and do both of them work in asia?
pls let me know... thanks.
and do both of them work in asia?
pls let me know... thanks.
we're in a recession? hahaha...
http://www.nypost.com/pagesixmag/issues/20081123/Desperately+Seeking+Sugar+Daddies
Desperately Seeking Sugar Daddies
With Wall Street crashing, it's hard to be a gold digger these days. So what are the lovely ladies accustomed to bottle service at Bijoux, $500 dinners at Bouley and $8,000 shopping sprees at Bergdorf to do when the bankers who fueled their excess are suddenly out of work? Joshua David Stein finds out.
By Joshua David Stein
Photo: Veer
"Everyone is looking for handsome, rich men, but there are less and less of them to go around," says one gold digger.
The white marble bar of the Meatpacking District hot spot Bistro Bagatelle is littered with $500 Louis Vuitton knockoff clutches—fakes, but nice fakes. Hovering over them are the anxious blonde women (fakes, but nice fakes too) to whom the bags belong. These are Manhattan's gold diggers—ladies of little means and big ambitions, who hope to use their looks to nab a rich man, better highlights and perhaps even a real Vuitton clutch. This bar is their mine. But in the middle of the worst financial crisis the city has faced since the Great Depression, there's little gold in "them thar hills."
The only thing missing on this Tuesday night in October is bankers. There are no scotches or whiskeys or hairy wrists wearing expensive watches resting on the bar. The few gents there are at Bagatelle are seated together, speaking in low, somber tones over plates of coquilles St. Jacques and bottles of Médoc. Three young Bulgarian women at the bar are getting restless. Sophie—23, blonde and a real estate broker—wears a cream cashmere sweater with a neckline that plunges like the Dow. Her friend Emilaya, 23, is a student at CUNY who resembles Scarlett Johansson. Their third friend, another beautiful Bulgarian, doesn't speak English. It doesn't matter. Three single Slavs, and still no one has approached them. Sophie sighs and sips her Pinot gris. "It's getting harder and harder to find a good man," she says. "Everyone is looking for handsome, rich and charming men but there are less and less of them to go around." Since the financial markets started collapsing back in March, wealthy Prince Charmings, already an endangered species on the nightlife scene, have become almost completely extinct. The handsome ones aren't charming, the charming ones aren't handsome and many of the rich ones are now poor.
There seemed to be a time during the most recent Wall Street bubble when natural selection and free market capitalism had achieved a perfect equilibrium. Men arrived in New York, equipped with degrees in finance or perhaps just a family friend's business card, to get rich. They came with different ranks—hedgies, traders, analysts, consultants—and together formed the infantry of a hungry Gordon Gekko–like army. As necessary as the Soho House membership or the weekend share in the Hamptons (south of the highway, thank you very much!) was a cute piece of arm candy. These were to be had, at the right price, by the dozen, any night of the week at hot spots like Bagatelle, 1Oak and Kiss & Fly. For a long time, the system worked. The more money that was paid, the more men that were laid, the more ladies that were made.
Well, it was good while it lasted. Since August, the Federal Reserve reports, Wall Street has lost 9,000 jobs, or about 5 percent of total employment. And it will only get worse. According to the report, "The city's finance sector stands on the verge of a significant multiyear downturn in employment and in real earnings." Up to 78,000 more jobs will likely be lost and many of those who remain employed will see their salaries slashed as bonuses disappear. What does this mean for Sophie? She adjusts her sweater downward and frowns. "There's much more competition," she says, anxiously eyeing the door.
With a supply of supple honeys outstripping demand, men are now choosier and even more fickle than usual. Ted Morgan, co-author of How to Marry a Multi-Millionaire: The Ultimate Guide to High Net Worth Dating, says, "There is an increased sense of desperation among women about dating, and men can sense this." Beggars, they figure, can't be choosers. Stacey, a raven-haired IT engineer, is single but shouldn't be. At any other time, in fact, she wouldn't be. The 31-year-old, who boasts of dating a well-known reality star and a slew of high-net-worth individuals, is accustomed to dinners at Ono and Markt, Nicolas Feuillatte champagne by the jeroboam and—if indeed she did end the night in her own home—being chauffeured there in a hired Town Car. But, she says, those Sex and the City salad days are over. She complains, "It sucks to be a single girl right now"—in large part because strapped Wall Street guys are spending less on dates. A typical night out during these troubled times may still be at Buddakan, but it will just as likely be for wine at the bar rather than a table laden with $44 Peking duck. According to one 29-year-old trader who lives in Murray Hill, "We don't have time or money to spend hundreds of dollars on a girl. If it's a drink and it doesn't go anywhere, well, at least I'm cutting back."
Today, women drinking paid-for saketinis are among the lucky few. Staceys and Sophies all over the city—women who six months ago subsisted on a steady diet of underwritten dinners followed by a night of bottle service at Marquee or Rose Bar—are waiting for their Sidekicks to vibrate. Sophie is broken up about a recently pink-slipped relationship with a Lehman brother. "I was dating this guy for a couple of weeks," she says, "and all of a sudden he just stopped calling me. For weeks, I waited. Finally he called. He had lost his job and was too ashamed to tell me."
And being unemployed is not hot. Real estate broker Sammy, a 37-year-old "single girl in the dating scene" (who would rather keep her real name private so that her boss doesn't know she's a gold digger), wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Will I knowingly date somebody who is in the sh--ter right now? Probably not." Sophie agrees, "I would never go out with someone who came up to me and said, 'I don't have a job.' " Emilaya shakes her head. "No, no, no." Even the non-English speaker shakes her head no. It's universal: No banking job, no service.
Back at Bagatelle, three young beautiful Turks smoke Camels outside in the cold. One is blonde, one is brunette and one is shivering in a T-shirt that reads "I Heart NY." Two appear to be models, or at least "models." (The other works in finance.) "When we go out there are usually four guys buying us drinks. Now there is only one," sighs the petite 24-year-old brunette. "Guys just aren't going out as much. Plus, men aren't buying bottle service so there are no tables to invite women back to." The other two nod ruefully.
But all downturns have their upsides. Just as the Wall Street apocalypse has been a boon to short sellers—those who bet against the stock market—so too has the scarcity of marketable men been a boon to, well, men. In some ways, the slowdown has created space for true love to flourish. Win Hornig, 25, a former analyst for the now defunct Bear Stearns who pens the blog Banker Gone Broke, isn't on the dating scene anymore. He met his girlfriend, a former Lehman Brothers analyst, through a mutual friend over a dinner at Country last month, when he still had a job but the market was cooling off. "If the market was busy, we would have never met. We both would have been at the office instead." Win's a winner, but today even losers can score. According to Ted, "You used to hear women say, 'I'd never date anyone who makes less than $1 million.' You don't hear that anymore. The number is getting lower and lower and lower." Stacey says now when she goes out on dates she asks herself, "Does this person have EP—earning potential? Even if he's a janitor, I'd give him a chance." But Stacey would do well to learn from the market. Trading in futures is risky business.
http://www.nypost.com/pagesixmag/issues/20081123/Desperately+Seeking+Sugar+Daddies
Desperately Seeking Sugar Daddies
With Wall Street crashing, it's hard to be a gold digger these days. So what are the lovely ladies accustomed to bottle service at Bijoux, $500 dinners at Bouley and $8,000 shopping sprees at Bergdorf to do when the bankers who fueled their excess are suddenly out of work? Joshua David Stein finds out.
By Joshua David Stein
Photo: Veer
"Everyone is looking for handsome, rich men, but there are less and less of them to go around," says one gold digger.
The white marble bar of the Meatpacking District hot spot Bistro Bagatelle is littered with $500 Louis Vuitton knockoff clutches—fakes, but nice fakes. Hovering over them are the anxious blonde women (fakes, but nice fakes too) to whom the bags belong. These are Manhattan's gold diggers—ladies of little means and big ambitions, who hope to use their looks to nab a rich man, better highlights and perhaps even a real Vuitton clutch. This bar is their mine. But in the middle of the worst financial crisis the city has faced since the Great Depression, there's little gold in "them thar hills."
The only thing missing on this Tuesday night in October is bankers. There are no scotches or whiskeys or hairy wrists wearing expensive watches resting on the bar. The few gents there are at Bagatelle are seated together, speaking in low, somber tones over plates of coquilles St. Jacques and bottles of Médoc. Three young Bulgarian women at the bar are getting restless. Sophie—23, blonde and a real estate broker—wears a cream cashmere sweater with a neckline that plunges like the Dow. Her friend Emilaya, 23, is a student at CUNY who resembles Scarlett Johansson. Their third friend, another beautiful Bulgarian, doesn't speak English. It doesn't matter. Three single Slavs, and still no one has approached them. Sophie sighs and sips her Pinot gris. "It's getting harder and harder to find a good man," she says. "Everyone is looking for handsome, rich and charming men but there are less and less of them to go around." Since the financial markets started collapsing back in March, wealthy Prince Charmings, already an endangered species on the nightlife scene, have become almost completely extinct. The handsome ones aren't charming, the charming ones aren't handsome and many of the rich ones are now poor.
There seemed to be a time during the most recent Wall Street bubble when natural selection and free market capitalism had achieved a perfect equilibrium. Men arrived in New York, equipped with degrees in finance or perhaps just a family friend's business card, to get rich. They came with different ranks—hedgies, traders, analysts, consultants—and together formed the infantry of a hungry Gordon Gekko–like army. As necessary as the Soho House membership or the weekend share in the Hamptons (south of the highway, thank you very much!) was a cute piece of arm candy. These were to be had, at the right price, by the dozen, any night of the week at hot spots like Bagatelle, 1Oak and Kiss & Fly. For a long time, the system worked. The more money that was paid, the more men that were laid, the more ladies that were made.
Well, it was good while it lasted. Since August, the Federal Reserve reports, Wall Street has lost 9,000 jobs, or about 5 percent of total employment. And it will only get worse. According to the report, "The city's finance sector stands on the verge of a significant multiyear downturn in employment and in real earnings." Up to 78,000 more jobs will likely be lost and many of those who remain employed will see their salaries slashed as bonuses disappear. What does this mean for Sophie? She adjusts her sweater downward and frowns. "There's much more competition," she says, anxiously eyeing the door.
With a supply of supple honeys outstripping demand, men are now choosier and even more fickle than usual. Ted Morgan, co-author of How to Marry a Multi-Millionaire: The Ultimate Guide to High Net Worth Dating, says, "There is an increased sense of desperation among women about dating, and men can sense this." Beggars, they figure, can't be choosers. Stacey, a raven-haired IT engineer, is single but shouldn't be. At any other time, in fact, she wouldn't be. The 31-year-old, who boasts of dating a well-known reality star and a slew of high-net-worth individuals, is accustomed to dinners at Ono and Markt, Nicolas Feuillatte champagne by the jeroboam and—if indeed she did end the night in her own home—being chauffeured there in a hired Town Car. But, she says, those Sex and the City salad days are over. She complains, "It sucks to be a single girl right now"—in large part because strapped Wall Street guys are spending less on dates. A typical night out during these troubled times may still be at Buddakan, but it will just as likely be for wine at the bar rather than a table laden with $44 Peking duck. According to one 29-year-old trader who lives in Murray Hill, "We don't have time or money to spend hundreds of dollars on a girl. If it's a drink and it doesn't go anywhere, well, at least I'm cutting back."
Today, women drinking paid-for saketinis are among the lucky few. Staceys and Sophies all over the city—women who six months ago subsisted on a steady diet of underwritten dinners followed by a night of bottle service at Marquee or Rose Bar—are waiting for their Sidekicks to vibrate. Sophie is broken up about a recently pink-slipped relationship with a Lehman brother. "I was dating this guy for a couple of weeks," she says, "and all of a sudden he just stopped calling me. For weeks, I waited. Finally he called. He had lost his job and was too ashamed to tell me."
And being unemployed is not hot. Real estate broker Sammy, a 37-year-old "single girl in the dating scene" (who would rather keep her real name private so that her boss doesn't know she's a gold digger), wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Will I knowingly date somebody who is in the sh--ter right now? Probably not." Sophie agrees, "I would never go out with someone who came up to me and said, 'I don't have a job.' " Emilaya shakes her head. "No, no, no." Even the non-English speaker shakes her head no. It's universal: No banking job, no service.
Back at Bagatelle, three young beautiful Turks smoke Camels outside in the cold. One is blonde, one is brunette and one is shivering in a T-shirt that reads "I Heart NY." Two appear to be models, or at least "models." (The other works in finance.) "When we go out there are usually four guys buying us drinks. Now there is only one," sighs the petite 24-year-old brunette. "Guys just aren't going out as much. Plus, men aren't buying bottle service so there are no tables to invite women back to." The other two nod ruefully.
But all downturns have their upsides. Just as the Wall Street apocalypse has been a boon to short sellers—those who bet against the stock market—so too has the scarcity of marketable men been a boon to, well, men. In some ways, the slowdown has created space for true love to flourish. Win Hornig, 25, a former analyst for the now defunct Bear Stearns who pens the blog Banker Gone Broke, isn't on the dating scene anymore. He met his girlfriend, a former Lehman Brothers analyst, through a mutual friend over a dinner at Country last month, when he still had a job but the market was cooling off. "If the market was busy, we would have never met. We both would have been at the office instead." Win's a winner, but today even losers can score. According to Ted, "You used to hear women say, 'I'd never date anyone who makes less than $1 million.' You don't hear that anymore. The number is getting lower and lower and lower." Stacey says now when she goes out on dates she asks herself, "Does this person have EP—earning potential? Even if he's a janitor, I'd give him a chance." But Stacey would do well to learn from the market. Trading in futures is risky business.
a squirrel just came through my chimney and ran through my living room.....
?????@?#!@?#?!?@#
?????@?#!@?#?!?@#
i've been back in NY for 3 days and i feel culture shock. maybe it's the frigid feeling that my face is about to fall off every time i step outside, but after being away for 1.5 years, i feel out of place. im always loud and i always drink. that hasn't changed. but i find that sometimes when telling a story, im so used to using certain chinese slangs that when forced to english only, i hiccup the punch line. usually, my comeback assimilation takes 1 day max. i'm at day three and i feel a bit slow. probably doesn't help that the month long bday celebration has hit the midway point with CHUNG AND VICTOR STRAPPING ME TO A CHAIR, HOLDING MY FOREHEAD AND NECK BACK AND FORCING ME TO CHUG GREY GOOSE, CUERVO, JWALKER. within 1 hour i was done. i woke up and found puke on the bedstand, the floor and the bathroom. sorry chomo.
i ate pretzels today. i can't remember the last time i had pretzels.
also...i had deli sliced muenster cheese and liverwurst. a staple in my household. definitely 2 years since my last liverwurst.
NY PIZZA!!! it's not the same anywhere else~
i ate pretzels today. i can't remember the last time i had pretzels.
also...i had deli sliced muenster cheese and liverwurst. a staple in my household. definitely 2 years since my last liverwurst.
NY PIZZA!!! it's not the same anywhere else~
and i quote
"alex back in town for one night with all of us getting drunk has already taken our behavior back in time 3 years. "
"alex back in town for one night with all of us getting drunk has already taken our behavior back in time 3 years. "
thanks everyone.
i feel like death.
lets do it again tonight!
i feel like death.
lets do it again tonight!
lin lin sits in this corner all day and eats all day
it's feeding time!
tumbling and somersaults all day!
it's feeding time!
tumbling and somersaults all day!
quick recap of the past 4 days without internet...
i've been in macau @ the venetian in a suite...with my mom.
everyday consisted of dim sum, abalone, shark fin, 大甲蟹, wine, chivas royal salute, and congee.
cirque du soleil zaia sucked. we fell asleep.
i ended up @ a ktv sunday night with a self proclaimed doctor (夜晚醫生）because he grabbed so many boobies that he's an expert.
that same night, i saw 2 sets of huge boobies, both grabbed by the doctor and by the 63 year old grandma that was with us.
in the background, they were playing my moms live dvd concert.
while drinking the tray's of mini-shots, the grandma proceeded to tell me about how love doesn't last with pretty girls and i will be heartbroken in 3 years.
i got sea sick on the ferry back.
did i mention i wore the same outfit for 4 days?
canto people are outta control vain, ridiculously superficial...so before auntie ma's bday dinner, i had to buy a sweater to change things up.
some pictures.
i've been in macau @ the venetian in a suite...with my mom.
everyday consisted of dim sum, abalone, shark fin, 大甲蟹, wine, chivas royal salute, and congee.
cirque du soleil zaia sucked. we fell asleep.
i ended up @ a ktv sunday night with a self proclaimed doctor (夜晚醫生）because he grabbed so many boobies that he's an expert.
that same night, i saw 2 sets of huge boobies, both grabbed by the doctor and by the 63 year old grandma that was with us.
in the background, they were playing my moms live dvd concert.
while drinking the tray's of mini-shots, the grandma proceeded to tell me about how love doesn't last with pretty girls and i will be heartbroken in 3 years.
i got sea sick on the ferry back.
did i mention i wore the same outfit for 4 days?
canto people are outta control vain, ridiculously superficial...so before auntie ma's bday dinner, i had to buy a sweater to change things up.
some pictures.
it's dec 5th. we've kicked off the month-long festivities already.
DIAMONDS DIAMONDS DIAMONDS!
DIAMONDS DIAMONDS DIAMONDS!
for the past 1.5 years, i've been flirting with 2 gigs remaining space on my HD (even after i bought an external HD). a big reason for this, other than procrastinated file organization, is in order to keep up with non-chinese pop music, i parasite the yousendit mp3's my buddies share with me. and the best time to review all new jams is at the gym, on the treadmill, an extended period of time, where your head jolts up and down and your body rhythmically goes no where. your body hurts and your face is covered in sweat. you do nothing but stare at 180 degrees in front of you and listen to music.
i find the random insertions of bad songs in ur playlist is a good motivator on the treadmill. i get really angry when these songs come on, and know that it can only possible last 3-5 minutes and pump angrily hard for faster finit of the song. anyone else share that feeling?
i find the random insertions of bad songs in ur playlist is a good motivator on the treadmill. i get really angry when these songs come on, and know that it can only possible last 3-5 minutes and pump angrily hard for faster finit of the song. anyone else share that feeling?
i was up last night chatting cuz IM MOTHER EFFIN EXCITED TO GO HOME! and from the looks of my messenger convo's, the local party might actually be happier, ehem chomo. he parallels my return as a savior with an axe ready to hack away at houses to save the burning souls inside them. i shrug these notions of wrecking houses as traditional bi-annual holiday festivities and i'll pass savior duties to one who can revive the economy. i stayed up to finish shawshank redemption on tv, when i switch back to cnn, another titanic of a day in the markets.
"i told you so"
i had a discussion the other day about family business and how much futile energy can you put in before you give up? if they're not going to listen to pure statistical data, heed credible data, cut losses and steer away from antiquated methods of finance (cuz they've been bleeding for years already), when do you *sigh* and let them do what they are ultimately going to do in the end anyway?
after some discussion, the answer: "...it depends on how much money is at stake"
i had a think about that. fair enough.
"i told you so"
i had a discussion the other day about family business and how much futile energy can you put in before you give up? if they're not going to listen to pure statistical data, heed credible data, cut losses and steer away from antiquated methods of finance (cuz they've been bleeding for years already), when do you *sigh* and let them do what they are ultimately going to do in the end anyway?
after some discussion, the answer: "...it depends on how much money is at stake"
i had a think about that. fair enough.
move over icecream man...here comes the meatman....
i waited 15 years for guns n roses to come out with another album, but apparently i waited much longer to realize my dream come true! on the day chinese democracy came out, i hit the studio...
everyday, on my walk to and from the subway entrance, i pass by this storefront home. it looks like someone's attic of personal storage except it stores rubbish. it looks like a garage sale except the items are pyramid piled and not lined up for sale. it looks like an unkempt outdoor shed for broken landscaping equipment except the broken appliances are blenders and typewriters hidden behind the columns of rubbish. it really just looks like a store front garbage dump.
the man that owns the shop is apparently worth 200M NT (~$6M USD) and his job is to collect garbage. however, all he's ever seen doing is sitting @ his corroded wooden table, tucking his greasy long grey hair behind his ear, drinking gao liang and watching his 1989 13" tv. he's got a bunch of stray dogs outside, a black and white one, a few black ones, and a few more others that i felt sympathetic for until they almost attacked my toy poodle, niku. he's just recently added little black and white puppy to his stray dog collection, which i want to kidnap and take home.
there's money in garbage, but that doesn't mean you have to live in it?
the man that owns the shop is apparently worth 200M NT (~$6M USD) and his job is to collect garbage. however, all he's ever seen doing is sitting @ his corroded wooden table, tucking his greasy long grey hair behind his ear, drinking gao liang and watching his 1989 13" tv. he's got a bunch of stray dogs outside, a black and white one, a few black ones, and a few more others that i felt sympathetic for until they almost attacked my toy poodle, niku. he's just recently added little black and white puppy to his stray dog collection, which i want to kidnap and take home.
there's money in garbage, but that doesn't mean you have to live in it?
i helped someone write a centerfold blurb about themselves and this was the result....
i like: beer, bulldogs and bad boys
if my life had a soundtrack, the theme song would be "beastie boys: fight for your right to party"
my life motto: "if it ain't tight, short and barely there, then i ain't wearing it!"
guess that person!
i like: beer, bulldogs and bad boys
if my life had a soundtrack, the theme song would be "beastie boys: fight for your right to party"
my life motto: "if it ain't tight, short and barely there, then i ain't wearing it!"
guess that person!
i spent 4 hours and 4 bottles @ ktv last night. and this morning, i just kept humming this song.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfeQGYNp3-I&hl=en&fs=1]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfeQGYNp3-I&hl=en&fs=1]
guess who's coming back?
DEC. 2nd - HK
DEC. 5th - MACAU
DEC. 9th - NYC...............(tuesday night here we come!)
when i came out to asia in 2004, my aunt kept indirectly urging me to head back to the states. she was very skeptical of me being able to stay out in the east. after 2 years, she still claimed that it would be better suited for me to head back. when i moved to singapore during my 3rd year, there was still a bit of a "temporary stay in spore" undertone. so, as i inch closer to a full 4 years in asia, i called my aunt today. told her i'd be going back to nyc for dec. she said "don't stay too long. come back soon". it's amazing what financial armageddon does to people. unfortunately, i get no points for "i told you so"
DEC. 2nd - HK
DEC. 5th - MACAU
DEC. 9th - NYC...............(tuesday night here we come!)
when i came out to asia in 2004, my aunt kept indirectly urging me to head back to the states. she was very skeptical of me being able to stay out in the east. after 2 years, she still claimed that it would be better suited for me to head back. when i moved to singapore during my 3rd year, there was still a bit of a "temporary stay in spore" undertone. so, as i inch closer to a full 4 years in asia, i called my aunt today. told her i'd be going back to nyc for dec. she said "don't stay too long. come back soon". it's amazing what financial armageddon does to people. unfortunately, i get no points for "i told you so"
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1AmeB1bYYE&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=zh_TW&feature=player_embedded&fs=1]
"who's more perverted? the japanese? or the italians?"
there's no hiding that every race in the world has some serious obsession with asian women and it's severely evident when foreigners come to asia for "business" travel. in these "business" scenario's, the noun "business" could easily be synonymous with the verb "drinking", and the verb "drinking" could easily be replaced with the word "womanizing". so after extensive research in this field of "business" the question arose..."who's more perverted? the japanese? or the italians?"
japanese society has developed their sex culture ingrained as a schizophrenic hormonal need, where i've witnessed their ability to have fun no matter what the scenario is. they, even when drinking with 40+ year old women, still find blissful joy in womanizing/drinking/yelling/singing. there is absolutely no stopping them in the pursuit of women. italians, on the other hand, carry a much smoother charisma with their hairy chests, greased back hair, and italian accents. however, when it comes to women pedestrians (specifically asian women), they too are relentless in their pursuit of passion. so who's more horny? you be the judge. (there were a bunch of honorable mentions, but that's for a later post).
the conversation of japanese perverts triggered some nostalgia for one of us, so she told the story...
"growing up, my dad always had japanese clients over. they would always be sleeping in the next room watching all sorts of loud porn, so me and my sister would always peek into their rooms to get a glimpse of what they were watching. one time, i saw a porn where the girl was peeing on the toilet and all of a sudden, ghost hands would come out the wall and rip her top off. as she shrieked in shock, a hand sudden reached up from out of the toilet and grabbed her panties..."
jeff, who was huddled behind helena's shoulder, immediately popped out with curiosity "so, u were watching SCARY PORN?"
HAHAHAHA...it was funny @ the time....
happy birthday jeff, we'll find you a scary porno for your birthday.
there's no hiding that every race in the world has some serious obsession with asian women and it's severely evident when foreigners come to asia for "business" travel. in these "business" scenario's, the noun "business" could easily be synonymous with the verb "drinking", and the verb "drinking" could easily be replaced with the word "womanizing". so after extensive research in this field of "business" the question arose..."who's more perverted? the japanese? or the italians?"
japanese society has developed their sex culture ingrained as a schizophrenic hormonal need, where i've witnessed their ability to have fun no matter what the scenario is. they, even when drinking with 40+ year old women, still find blissful joy in womanizing/drinking/yelling/singing. there is absolutely no stopping them in the pursuit of women. italians, on the other hand, carry a much smoother charisma with their hairy chests, greased back hair, and italian accents. however, when it comes to women pedestrians (specifically asian women), they too are relentless in their pursuit of passion. so who's more horny? you be the judge. (there were a bunch of honorable mentions, but that's for a later post).
the conversation of japanese perverts triggered some nostalgia for one of us, so she told the story...
"growing up, my dad always had japanese clients over. they would always be sleeping in the next room watching all sorts of loud porn, so me and my sister would always peek into their rooms to get a glimpse of what they were watching. one time, i saw a porn where the girl was peeing on the toilet and all of a sudden, ghost hands would come out the wall and rip her top off. as she shrieked in shock, a hand sudden reached up from out of the toilet and grabbed her panties..."
jeff, who was huddled behind helena's shoulder, immediately popped out with curiosity "so, u were watching SCARY PORN?"
HAHAHAHA...it was funny @ the time....
happy birthday jeff, we'll find you a scary porno for your birthday.
i just saw beerfest on mute. i've been wanting to see it and unfortunately when it came on cinemax tonight, my phone rang. so i watched most of the movie on mute and that made all that beer consumption even more poignant. I WANT A BEER! i'm going to be sure the next time i watch this movie im not alone and i have plenty of beer in the fridge...tomorrow? pictures to come.
apparently, johnny depp's drunken demeanor and panda eye shadow in "Pirates of the Caribbean" brought sexy back for much of the world. (2 movie sequels, theme park attractions, restaurant decor, and a RESURGENCE IN REAL PIRACY!). Time magazine did a feature on Pirates last year...and at that time, i was aboard 40k ton oil tankers thinking "how the heck is it possible to jack this thing"...of course as of this week, there have been 8 pirate attacks highlighted with the jacking of SIRIUS STAR holding 100 MILLION DOLLARS WORTH OF CRUDE OIL (2M Barrels of Oil).
forget trading oil.
the real money is in STEALING OIL.
imagine movie previews "STEALING A CD...AND A VeryLargeCrudeCarrier...IS WRONG"
The Sirius Star tanker, shown here conducting a trial run off the coast of South Korea, was invaded by Somali pirates 450 nautical miles off the coast of Kenya.
forget trading oil.
the real money is in STEALING OIL.
imagine movie previews "STEALING A CD...AND A VeryLargeCrudeCarrier...IS WRONG"
The Sirius Star tanker, shown here conducting a trial run off the coast of South Korea, was invaded by Somali pirates 450 nautical miles off the coast of Kenya.
from time to time, i'll take advantage of xanga to get a bit political. since 2004, i've bashed a ton of people from greenspan to kofi anan. i remember a few kim jong il rants last year, then there was some thaksin dedications, and today, there's former president of taiwan chen shui bian. side-stepping partisan allegiance, i think chen shui bian is a few steps away from political genius. he's one of those savvy politicians that is able to drive the dagger of hate so far into the opposing side only as a by product from riling up the people for his massive support. i call him the taiwanese britney spears because he's this years media's most wanted! britney, through the k-fed years, divorce, 2 kids, jamie lynn pregnancy, weight gain, paris hilton club nights, no underwear fotos, was continually voted the number 1 papparazzi feature, the number 1 coveted gossip item. either inverse to her IQ or a brilliant marketing team, the media not only didn't shake her from the front pages, but only gained momentum and when she won her first MTV moonmen "piece of me" chronicling the downtimes of her gossip frenzy, it stamped her marketing ingenuity.
mr chen shui bian, no matter what the adversity, somehow finds a way to deflect all kinds of accusations into some kind of positive media epic for his supporters. his latest hunger strike (currently 7 days) to protest corruption charges, even had me grinning when i saw the news. i want to watch more of this on going saga! i want to see what his crippled wife will do next. i want to see his daughter unleash fury at reporters again (i have her as a ring tone on my phone). i want to see more chen shui bian in the news! starve bitch starve! (in that non life threatening way of course)
Former Taiwan's President Chen Shui-bian is transferred in an ambulance out of the Taipei County Hospital back to the Tucheng Detention Center in Taipei County Tuesday, Nov. 19, 2008. Chen was was released from hospital on Wednesday, after going on a hunger strike to protest his arrest on money-laundering and corruption allegations he claims are politically motivated, his lawyer said. (AP Photo)
mr chen shui bian, no matter what the adversity, somehow finds a way to deflect all kinds of accusations into some kind of positive media epic for his supporters. his latest hunger strike (currently 7 days) to protest corruption charges, even had me grinning when i saw the news. i want to watch more of this on going saga! i want to see what his crippled wife will do next. i want to see his daughter unleash fury at reporters again (i have her as a ring tone on my phone). i want to see more chen shui bian in the news! starve bitch starve! (in that non life threatening way of course)
Former Taiwan's President Chen Shui-bian is transferred in an ambulance out of the Taipei County Hospital back to the Tucheng Detention Center in Taipei County Tuesday, Nov. 19, 2008. Chen was was released from hospital on Wednesday, after going on a hunger strike to protest his arrest on money-laundering and corruption allegations he claims are politically motivated, his lawyer said. (AP Photo)
"You're a cross between a dolphin and a panda"
"it's not about frequency, it's all about intensity" - this is a phrase that my social group uses to reflect our drinking habits. the taipei traffic authority has apparently embedded this phrase as a constant in their traffic-light wait-time algorithm with pedestrian-crossing wait-times up to 100+ seconds DURING PEAK TIME! it's ironic, considering this is a country full of engineers infamous for cost cutting efficiency.
if you spend an inordinate amount of time with someone who is Obsessive and Compulsive about hygiene, then one of the worst places you can go to is an internet cafe. From the moment I mentioned the words internet and cafe in the same sentence her countenance flipped from pink to pasty, a sudden reflex that put her mood into a flux of stress which triggered a chain reaction that endured as follows...
1. omg, it's so dirty in the internet cafe. think of how many dirty and sweaty school kids go there and sit on the couches.
instinct 1: i need to change my jeans. im going to wear the same jeans from yesterday so i won't get the new jeans dirty
impulse 2: not leaning back on the seat when using the computer
2. omg, i dont want to go. think of all the kids that pee, dont wash their hands and touch the keyboard. that's penis on keyboard!
instinct 1: wet wipes.
impulse 2: can't touch face, bag, or anything that you're eventually going to take home with you afterwards
3. "hey OCD, there's 1 free drink with internet purchase"
instinct 1: omg, the cups are dirty! think of all the dirty kids that touch the cups with their dirty mouths, then the dirty staff washes it in a bucket in the dirty toilet with the dirty water.
reaction 2: im not drinking any liquids for the entire day until i get home. because i refuse to use the dirty bathroom at the dirty internet cafe.
internet cafe in this instance was a necessary evil for the OCD victim. she seemed to have dragged her work deadline long enough and finally gave into the last resort of internet cafe. ironically, what was supposed to be a 3 hour stint, turned into 8. and maybe another trip tomorrow. im coming prepared tomrorow. same jeans from 3 days ago, wet wipes, bottled water and a back brace!
***
how many times did i use the word 'dirty' in this entry?
[last lines]
Ray: There's a Christmas tree somewhere in London with a bunch of presents underneath it that'll never be opened. And I thought, if I survive all of this, I'd go to that house, apologize to the mother there, and accept whatever punishment she chose for me. Prison... death... didn't matter. Because at least in prison and at least in death, you know, I wouldn't be in fuckin' Bruges. But then, like a flash, it came to me. And I realized, fuck man, maybe that's what hell is: the entire rest of eternity spent in fuckin' Bruges. And I really really hoped I wouldn't die. I really really hoped I wouldn't die.
tonight, i thought about death. about life after death. about religion. about faith. about luck. about karma. about purgatory. about life before life. about blissful ignorance. about little kids in africa. about our galaxy. about jupiter. about mars. about earth. about human intelligence. about life on earth. about the big bang theory. about earths position in the solar system. about water. about evolution. about moisture and clouds. about sustenance. about life. about death.
this time, this death train was trigged by fuckin' bruges. what was the most recent "life/death" catalyst for u?
From WSJ: About 90% of banks' consumer-fee income comes from overdraft and insufficient-funds charges, which are expected to increase to $42 billion this year from $20.7 billion in 1999.
as much as i love surfing and reading the internet for continually up to date true and false information, i still find oodles more knowledge in the high gloss text of a magazine. i find that when u lick your fingers to turn the page of a shiny page of a magazine, the crumpling of the paper btwn ur index finger and thumb triggers a self-proclaimed chemical reaction that diffuses extra IQ molecules through ur fingers to your brain. that's my compromise to antiquated actual paper reading. (even though i've learned to love books, book reading has taken a semi-haitus for a bout 2 years now)...when i read a magazine, i always find the time to read it cover to cover, staring at each facet of the magazine that suits my persona at that point in time. i was once infatuated with font and studied the font of each section of a periodical, then there was the time i was into ad placement and spent a good portion of toilet-time counting the pages btwn ads, then there's the fashion trend study, and my own commentary of caption commentary...and then of course a sporadic urge to annotate the articles. most recently after this months jimmy kimmel cover article for GQ, i started reading up on the magazine correspondants.
***
No TV lineup in the world compares to US programming. and even with STAR WORLD syndicating US and UK shows for the English speaking population in Asia, i'm still limited to a tardy, locally filtered selection of overseas programming. Additionally, after some extensive TV shopping, I realized that the TV culture is undermined technologically. ironically, Taiwan, the number chip manufacturer in the world, doesn't cater to their own technological production capability. HD capable TV's almost make no sense to buy in Taiwan. I wouldn't say there's no consumer medium for home entertainment, there just isn't the options to utilize technology-forward gadgets that revolve around tv programming! digital cable is limited hence no 'on demand' (blockbuster seems to be doing well here, despite huge losses, -- someone bring in netflixxxXXxx!), i haven't heard one person use tivo or know what it is, and what's the point of buying and HDTV when there's only one HD capable channel? even if u wanted to grow ur blu-ray collection, ur blu-ray purchasing power is limited by the local selection.
ergo, im stuck with star world and recently i've been stuck with a lot of jimmy kimmel. i've been one of his loyal fraternity followers since his "man show" days. i find kimmel hilarious in that easy going, non pretentious, 'one-of-the-boys" kind of way. not to mention im a huge fan of the pontiac garage lineup. he seems like like a celebrity i'd want to get drunk with. i'd want to meet him. we'd eat pizza, watch football and get drunk. now why does gq magazine correspondant jeanne marie laskas, author of "growing girls" get the opportunity to do a piece on the "LIVE" kimmel? taking nothing away from her literary experience and her english prowess, she writes a great piece on kimmel. she writes a first person omniscient narrative on kimmels nature, office life and home decor. she transcribes kimmel's personal anecdotes but it's nothing anyone else couldn't write sans a professional editor? a guy like kimmel paired up with a martha stewart lookalike (check out her website) seems like such a wasted opportunity for an unyielding fraternal piece that ties "anecdote" kimmel with "creating a new anecdote" into a first person narrative with an edge (or falling off the edge!).
maybe it was a good piece to get to know the "real kimmel" and we'll let laskas have her moment in the sun until, HOPEFULLY A FOLLOWUP. she had "daytime interview" with kimmel and got a "food vaccuum sealer" as a gift, now lets unleash one of his buddies (afleck, damon, or whoever) to give a first hand account as to what REALLY GOES ON and maybe adriana lima will ring my doorbell after the interview! man i wish i was that "magazine correspondant"
***
“People who use ChapStick have to have ChapStick with them at all times,” he says. “They have to constantly reapply the fucking ChapStick.
Recycle Your RomancesThe joys (and savings) of sex with your ex.
4 Comments | Add Yours
By Em & Lo Published Nov 2, 2008
Illustration by Remie Geoffoi
Normal dates—with the requisite mani-pedis, barbershop shaves, drinks, and movie tickets—can easily add up to more than $200. But just because you’re single and can’t afford big nights out doesn’t mean you need to forgo sex altogether. Just sleep with your ex. Booty-calling an ex, at least one you’re on good terms with, is a low-risk, high-yield investment. You’re familiar with each other’s flaws already, so no need to mask them with pricey beautification or elaborate mating rituals. Just order in Chinese—or better yet, nuke some Ramen, then get busy. Bonus perk: Your ex knows his or her way around your body, and vice versa, which means a guaranteed good time for all.
Annual Savings: $2,400
(Compared with twelve $200 dates.)
4 Comments | Add Yours
By Em & Lo Published Nov 2, 2008
Illustration by Remie Geoffoi
Normal dates—with the requisite mani-pedis, barbershop shaves, drinks, and movie tickets—can easily add up to more than $200. But just because you’re single and can’t afford big nights out doesn’t mean you need to forgo sex altogether. Just sleep with your ex. Booty-calling an ex, at least one you’re on good terms with, is a low-risk, high-yield investment. You’re familiar with each other’s flaws already, so no need to mask them with pricey beautification or elaborate mating rituals. Just order in Chinese—or better yet, nuke some Ramen, then get busy. Bonus perk: Your ex knows his or her way around your body, and vice versa, which means a guaranteed good time for all.
Annual Savings: $2,400
(Compared with twelve $200 dates.)
the problem with being back in taiwan is that this island is a black hole for anorexic vanity. my last passport stamp of entry into this country is October 17th. and since that date, there's been too many trips to the gym, a healthier diet and only been 2 bouts of drinking...which without practice has turned me almost fatefully violent this past weekend.
maybe i need practice. afterall, will, victor and larry are only a quick flight away....
maybe i need practice. afterall, will, victor and larry are only a quick flight away....
e.KHYM...another for you.
I know, right? Save it for the coffeehouse poetry slam, César Chávez. This is a money column. Give me some advice on how to allocate my 401(k). All I’m trying to point out, though, is that there’s a growing class chasm everywhere you look these days, and it’s especially stark when you think about something as basic as food. And all those purple potatoes people like me buy at $10 a pound—in addition to putting a little money in a farmer’s pocket (which is an undeniably good thing), they also represent consumerism at its most rarefied. And while we buy this food for excellent reasons—because it tastes better than what we’d find in a supermarket; because the range of choices is infinitely greater than it is in the produce section at Safeway; because the experience of going to the Greenmarket and milling around with your neighbors and chatting up the misanthropic beef guy or the lesbian cheesemakers is a much more pleasant experience than being shuttled through a human maze where every turn leads to corn syrup—it also seems, at least for me, that one of the biggest reasons I’m willing to pay ludicrous prices for this food is that it confirms my sense of myself as a do-gooder.
So why do I feel like what I really am is less a do-gooder than a charter member of the virtue-buying class? I suppose part of it is because people tend to define themselves through their purchases, and in grim economic times, as flagrant consumption becomes morally suspect (seriously, when you see some guy in a massive SUV now it’s like looking into the eyes of a serial killer, is it not?), we invest certain purchases with exaggerated moral value. I’m not just some lucky duck who can afford to choose between all these delicious foods, I’m part of a movement! I’m a locavore! I’m helping farmers and I’m reducing carbon emissions and I’m ensuring that my kids will never be touched by pesticides! Except I’ve also grown elitist and judgmental, and/or occasionally ashamed, when it comes to regular supermarket food (I’ve actually apologized to someone for feeding his kid Dannon yogurt), and for my monthly tab at the Greenmarket, I could lease a BMW. I imagine there’s a better way to use my money.
....“Americans have a way of thinking that shopping can change the world,” he said, “as if when we feel guilty it’s all a matter of going to Whole Foods and buying the right labels.”
I know, right? Save it for the coffeehouse poetry slam, César Chávez. This is a money column. Give me some advice on how to allocate my 401(k). All I’m trying to point out, though, is that there’s a growing class chasm everywhere you look these days, and it’s especially stark when you think about something as basic as food. And all those purple potatoes people like me buy at $10 a pound—in addition to putting a little money in a farmer’s pocket (which is an undeniably good thing), they also represent consumerism at its most rarefied. And while we buy this food for excellent reasons—because it tastes better than what we’d find in a supermarket; because the range of choices is infinitely greater than it is in the produce section at Safeway; because the experience of going to the Greenmarket and milling around with your neighbors and chatting up the misanthropic beef guy or the lesbian cheesemakers is a much more pleasant experience than being shuttled through a human maze where every turn leads to corn syrup—it also seems, at least for me, that one of the biggest reasons I’m willing to pay ludicrous prices for this food is that it confirms my sense of myself as a do-gooder.
So why do I feel like what I really am is less a do-gooder than a charter member of the virtue-buying class? I suppose part of it is because people tend to define themselves through their purchases, and in grim economic times, as flagrant consumption becomes morally suspect (seriously, when you see some guy in a massive SUV now it’s like looking into the eyes of a serial killer, is it not?), we invest certain purchases with exaggerated moral value. I’m not just some lucky duck who can afford to choose between all these delicious foods, I’m part of a movement! I’m a locavore! I’m helping farmers and I’m reducing carbon emissions and I’m ensuring that my kids will never be touched by pesticides! Except I’ve also grown elitist and judgmental, and/or occasionally ashamed, when it comes to regular supermarket food (I’ve actually apologized to someone for feeding his kid Dannon yogurt), and for my monthly tab at the Greenmarket, I could lease a BMW. I imagine there’s a better way to use my money.
....“Americans have a way of thinking that shopping can change the world,” he said, “as if when we feel guilty it’s all a matter of going to Whole Foods and buying the right labels.”
For E. Khym. READ THIS ARTICLE. WHEN I READ IT. I THOUGHT OF YOU. Wired magazine "I'll be there 4 U". Scott Brown starts "thanks to facebook, i never lose touch with anyone. and that my friend, is a problem". He talks of this "infinite friendspace" as an unalloyed good b/c
1. it encourages hoarding. Friends are the currency of the socially netowrked world; therefore, it follows that more equals better. But the more friends you have, the less they're worth - and more to the point, the less human they are....
2. friending has subsumed the ol'rolodex. granted it's often convenient to have all of your contacts under one roof. but the great thing about the rolodex was that it never talked back, it didn't throw virtual octopi or make you take movie quizzes, and it never, ever poked you. the rolodex just sat there. it was all business
3. THIRD AND MOST GRAVE - WE"VE LOST OUR RIGHT TO LOSE TOUCH. "A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature," emerson wrote, not bothering to add, "and like most things natural, friendship is biodegradable" We scrawl "friends forever" in yearbooks, but we quietly realize, with relief, that some bonds are meant to be shed, like snakeskin or a showtime subscription. It's nature's way of allowing you to change, adapt, evolve, or devlolve as you wish - and freeing you from the exhaustion of multifront friend maintenance.
"Deletion is scary-and, we're told, unnecessary in the Petabyte Age. That's what made good old-fashioned losing touch so wonderful - friendships, like long-forgotten photos and mix-tapes, would distort and slowly whistle into oblivion, quite naturally, nothing personal. It was sweet and sad and, though you'd rarely admit it, necessary"
- SCOTT BROWN I'll BE THERE 4 U - WIRED MAGAZINE NOV 2008
everyone's always talking about the internet these days...after the initial tech bubble burst in the late 90's, cyberspace went through a 2.0 change that has arguably perfected a more mainstream cyber medium for social, economical and political information. with web 2.0, there's out with the old (blogging) and in with the new (twitter/facebook).
my xanga, originally intended to keep in touch with people back home, spawned into a whirling tornado of rant. narcissism fueled the fire along with the possibility of fame and eventual -paid-to-blog...but it seems that i now, as i edge closer to 30, am feeling certain effects of being outdated. my itunes playlist is still clogged up with seattle 90's alternative, i compare all athletes to JORDAN, nostalgic vh1 shows actually stir up nostalgia, and most recently, my most accelerated technological social stream (blogging) is now seemingly outdated.
"Writing a weblog today isn't the bright idea it was four years ago. the blogosphere once a freshwater oasis of folksy self expression and clever thought, has been flooded by a tsunami of paid bilge. Cut-rate journalists and underground marketing campaigns now drown out the authentic voices of amateur wordsmiths. It's almost impossible to get noticed, except by hecklers. And why bother? The time it takes to craft sharp, witty blog prose is better spent expressing yourself on Flickr, Facebook, or Twitter" - Paul Boutin, Wired Mag 'Kill your blog'
my xanga, originally intended to keep in touch with people back home, spawned into a whirling tornado of rant. narcissism fueled the fire along with the possibility of fame and eventual -paid-to-blog...but it seems that i now, as i edge closer to 30, am feeling certain effects of being outdated. my itunes playlist is still clogged up with seattle 90's alternative, i compare all athletes to JORDAN, nostalgic vh1 shows actually stir up nostalgia, and most recently, my most accelerated technological social stream (blogging) is now seemingly outdated.
"Writing a weblog today isn't the bright idea it was four years ago. the blogosphere once a freshwater oasis of folksy self expression and clever thought, has been flooded by a tsunami of paid bilge. Cut-rate journalists and underground marketing campaigns now drown out the authentic voices of amateur wordsmiths. It's almost impossible to get noticed, except by hecklers. And why bother? The time it takes to craft sharp, witty blog prose is better spent expressing yourself on Flickr, Facebook, or Twitter" - Paul Boutin, Wired Mag 'Kill your blog'
so change has come...obama has won and the bradley effect has had no effect.
how fast will change come? obama faces armageddon-type crises and americans have voted him best suited to lead a patriotic comeback. but that change won't be so immediate. but what is immediate is the impact the election has on foreign perspective towards the United States. It's easy for analysts to talk and write about the significance of obama's victory, but you can't feel it. i frequent countries where people ask me about american stereotypes "nyc is dangerous? are americans racist and belittle minorities? they seem arrogant? they sleep around? casual dating? sex and the city?". whether true or not, i can FEEL a definitive change in foreign perception towards america after the majority has elected a minority for president. kudos to change.
how fast will change come? obama faces armageddon-type crises and americans have voted him best suited to lead a patriotic comeback. but that change won't be so immediate. but what is immediate is the impact the election has on foreign perspective towards the United States. It's easy for analysts to talk and write about the significance of obama's victory, but you can't feel it. i frequent countries where people ask me about american stereotypes "nyc is dangerous? are americans racist and belittle minorities? they seem arrogant? they sleep around? casual dating? sex and the city?". whether true or not, i can FEEL a definitive change in foreign perception towards america after the majority has elected a minority for president. kudos to change.
i made him chicken and rice. he looked at it, sniffed it, then looked at me. so i gave him a paper towel. he looked at it and sniffed it. he went back to his chicken bowl and sniffed that again then looked at me. then went back to eat the paper towel.
wikipedia -
Boyzone are an Irish boy band who had popular mainstream success during the 1990s. They were most successful in the Republic of Ireland and the UK and they also had differing levels of success in parts of Europe and Asia. The band had six #1 UK hit singles when they were first together. They made a comeback in 2007, originally with the intention of just touring but Ronan Keating confirmed in an interview that they wanted to "outdo Take That"[1] in terms of a successful reunion. They are due to release an album in 2008.
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i caught 4 minutes of them @ 西門紅樓 and that was enough to be disgusted. boybands are formed when the members are teenage heartthrobs.
boyzone members are now the exact antithesis of their name, no longer boys and maybe in the twilight zone; stuck in a realm where they think scruffy meatheads, small balding perverts, a blonde front man still appeals to fans new and old. I have to say that it was a bit chilling watching the 4 on stage doing choreographed shoulder shrugs, synchronized spins, pointing into the office and making sweet love into the microphone...what made it ball gripping was when the meathead in the back stuck those falsetta notes looking homo-er than all homo's.
Boyzone are an Irish boy band who had popular mainstream success during the 1990s. They were most successful in the Republic of Ireland and the UK and they also had differing levels of success in parts of Europe and Asia. The band had six #1 UK hit singles when they were first together. They made a comeback in 2007, originally with the intention of just touring but Ronan Keating confirmed in an interview that they wanted to "outdo Take That"[1] in terms of a successful reunion. They are due to release an album in 2008.
**
i caught 4 minutes of them @ 西門紅樓 and that was enough to be disgusted. boybands are formed when the members are teenage heartthrobs.
boyzone members are now the exact antithesis of their name, no longer boys and maybe in the twilight zone; stuck in a realm where they think scruffy meatheads, small balding perverts, a blonde front man still appeals to fans new and old. I have to say that it was a bit chilling watching the 4 on stage doing choreographed shoulder shrugs, synchronized spins, pointing into the office and making sweet love into the microphone...what made it ball gripping was when the meathead in the back stuck those falsetta notes looking homo-er than all homo's.
we got tickets to sit in the media section, so from the moment i sat down i was thinking...."being a critic seems like such a great job. if you're a food critic, you eat everything everywhere and write a bout it....or if you're a music critic, you get to see all different types of band and all you got to do is write about it. but what if your job entails eating bad food? and there's a ton of bad food out there....and what if u're forced to listen to crap music? and there's a ton of crappy bands out there...being forced to do anything sucks doesn't it?"
sitting through fan fan's, 范瑋琪, concert had all sorts of ADD thoughts whirling through my head. anything to stray away from watching intently, listening too carefully or gulping down my bottle of haterade. it's just too easy to bash on the frail, timid, awkwardly lanky fan fan. 小S couldn't control herself to bash on fan fan. ASOS came out for a song with fan fan, there was some corny dialogue then some bad vocals by the HSU sisters, then 小S said "what's wrong fan fan, the song is over...oh that's right, u're just dancing"
concerts are as much driven by the fans as by the artists...but in asia, u're not going to get the lollapalooza vibe nor even the tony bennett concert 'crazy woman woman in the first row who's had too much wine and is swaying even when there's no music' vibe. so watching western artists out here, especially with the language barrier, u'd have to just make due with what you got. asians may not have 'soul, but that doesn't mean they got no artist allegiance, the real amped up crowds are the local concerts. jay chou, lee hom, david tao, fan fan! teens scream, hold up banners and smell like dirty hs uniform body odor. that was fan fan's show.
it took her 10 years to have her own concert and it seemed like a success. a packed house, a live band cutsey background videos (a slue of 黑人 video clips 'love you this love you that'), guest cameo's and barring the shy and her skeletal awkwardness and crappy songs (which i don't think she wrote any of them) she's got a decent voice. other than ASOS, the kids from 模范棒棒堂 did some break dancing and singing with her and little girls started screaming. u might think nsync was up there at one point. fan fan sang her repertoire of ballads and it was a smidgen of sarah mclachlan in an oversized arena. i looked around and even the chaperones seemed to be singing along.
AMEI came out. that made the 200NT cab ride to NTU arena worth it. i haven't seen amei live since i was 15 @ foxwoods? or was it atlantic city. i think that was the badboy tour. (that was when i didn't even know who she was....djdoc was in my cd player) she was awesome then and she was awesome with fan fan. sporting shorter hair, amei's a bit older now, the older sister-ish and still sings with the vigor, confidence and the panache of a star. amei, a veteran from the CD era of music, gave nothing but supporting words for fan fan....and well...i think it made a difference.
sorry for the shitty camera phone pics....
skeletal fan fan
cereal box backdrop
packed house
taiwanese are obsessed with the chewy, rubbery, elastic texture of food they like to describe as "Q". Other than deep fried tasties, crunch and firmness take a backseat to gooey, corn starched doused, mushy recipes on the island formerly known as formosa. so in your best cutsy japanese anime voice..."WAHHH IT TASTES SOO Q!"
Grilled MOCHI with cheese sauce (which instead tasted like sweet milk)
it was as Q as mochi is defined. but the sauce was shit and the wait in line was shit. won't go back.
Grilled MOCHI with cheese sauce (which instead tasted like sweet milk)
it was as Q as mochi is defined. but the sauce was shit and the wait in line was shit. won't go back.
