My New Boyfriend

I met him a few months ago. My officemate introduced me to him at an Indian restaurant and it was love at first sight.

I love everything about him. He’s rich, he’s smooth, he’s cultured, he smells good, and, most importantly, he satisfies me, if you know what I mean. He is also vegetarian, which is a nice touch.

His name is Malai Kofta, and he is a South-Asian flavor invader. Here is a picture of him.

Doesn’t he look delicious?

In case you haven’t caught on, Malai Kofta is not a person, it is an Indian dish. I’ve gone back to being vegetarian again, and thanks to tasty dishes like this, I may stay that way.

This is my holiday card

You click now!

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=9626862768

Parts

Sometimes when I’m alone I like to think about the past. I think about people who have entered and exited my life. I think about the times when I was at my happiest. I was a happy child. I was very non-judgmental. I tried to find the fun in every situation. I found that adults were very drawn to me. I started talking at a very young age, so I was easy to communicate with. I would talk to practically anyone.

I remember having many conversations with my Uncle Eddie when I was a child. I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house in those days, and Uncle Eddie still lived with them. He had a collection of spare radio parts which I found fascinating. I would play with the moving parts and buttons and he would explain what each part did.

He also had a collection of vinyl records and a very old turntable. He would let me take his most precious records out of their sleeves and mount them on to the table, with only the slightest bit of assistance when putting the needle down.

I looked forward to spending time with Uncle Eddie nearly every week. He always had a new gadget to show me, or a new record to test out. At the age of six I felt like Uncle Eddie was my closest friend.

I never wondered much about my Uncle Eddie’s life outside of the radios and the records. I never wonder why he still lived with his parents. I never wondered why my Nana made him sleep with his bedroom door open. I never wondered why I never saw him leave the house, why he never had any friends over, or why he didn’t have a job. At least, I didn’t start to wonder until a few years later.

My visits to my grandparents’ house became more and more infrequent over the years. When I was about 9-years-old I found out that Uncle Eddie was the oldest of all my dad’s siblings. It got me thinking about why a man older than my dad would still live with his parents.

Children always understand more than their parents give them credit for. They hear whispers and under the table conversations. Before they can add, the can put together bits of a conversation to come to conclusions that are not that far from the truth. By the time I was 13-years-old I had finally solved the equation.

Uncle Eddie was a diagnosed schizophrenic. He manifested when he was about 20, and he started to self-medicate. He became addicted to a variety of drugs, which only exacerbated his illness. Consequently, he was never able to hold down a job or a place to live. He stopped taking the drugs, but he never gave up chain smoking. I remember hearing loud coughs in the middle of the night, but I never saw him smoke.

As I became older I found myself wanting to spend less and less time at my grandparents’ house. After I became fully aware of my Uncle Eddie’s past, the image of his life very became very saddening. I became scared that my parents or I could one day end up in the same situation. I didn’t want to think about it.

I avoided conversations with him. He would try to show me his latest radio kit or vintage record, but I would usually just brush him off. I could tell that this would affect him. His brow would crinkle in disappointment and he would shy away. As much as I was depressed by his lifestyle, I was even more depressed and sickened by my own behavior.

At the age of 15 I had a bit of a falling out with my father and his side of the family. I didn’t see Uncle Eddie again until my grandmother was on her deathbed.

When my grandparents died I became worried about who would take care of Uncle Eddie. My aunt told me that all of my grandparents’ assets were liquidated into a fund for Uncle Eddie. My aunt and uncles set him up in an adult community. My great aunt, who suffered a similar affliction, spent a lot of time in a similar community, and I got the impression that it enriched her life.

After hearing this I felt a bit better about my Uncle Eddie’s situation. He would be out of the house; he might make new friends. The fund that was set up for him was not sizeable, but it would be enough to take care of his food, lodging, car and healthcare.

I sort of forgot about him through the rest of college.

The winter after I graduated my aunt invited my mom, brother and I to a holiday dinner. We decided that it would be nice to see everyone.

I was surprised to see Uncle Eddie there. He had gained a lot of weight, his hair was disheveled and his shirt was not buttoned properly. He had a blank, bordering on melancholy, look on his face. Schizophrenia is a degenerative disease, and he had slipped a little further down the slope. At first I felt the same stab of sadness that punctured me when I was thirteen. But then my eye wondered to the woman that was sitting next to him. I had never seen her before. She was wearing a similar façade. I asked my aunt who the woman was. She turned out to be my Uncle Eddie’s new girlfriend.

My mom had been divorced from my dad for nearly seven years at that point, and she had yet to secure a significant other. I feeling began to well up within me. I looked at my Uncle Eddie with joy.

We engaged in some very small talk, mostly about NPR and smoking. He told me that he was trying to quit again. He said he hadn’t attempted to quit again since about 17 years earlier. I would have been about 6-years-old.

After the meal we exchanged a few presents. My aunt always loved to buy me clothes, and she is the one person that knows my taste. The rest of my family gave us checks. My last gift was the most unexpected. Before I got up to get dessert, my Uncle Eddie walked over to me and handed me a small package.

“I remember how you used to say you loved watching movies with your dad,” he said.

I opened the package and inside was a Blockbuster coupon for one free rental.

I stared at the card for a moment. I was very silent for a few moments, which may have come across as disappointment. He gave the same crinkled eyebrow look and began to shy away. I practically screamed thank you at him before he turned away. In those moments of silence I was trying to fight back a waterfall of tears. The emotion caught up with me and became lodged in my throat. When he began to shy away some of that emotion came out.

The rest of the night I had to fight from breaking into tears. I kept thinking about his condition, his fixed income and my cold disposition. He fought through all that to buy me something that linked to a conversation I shared with him as a child. That small blue card was the best Christmas present I have ever received.

I still have it with me to this day. I keep it to remind myself not to judge too harshly. I keep it as a reminder of true kindness.

I Don't Normally Post Internet Quiz Results...

But this one shows how fucking awesome I am:


See What You're Made Of - Visit The Official Site

Watching

The Ravages of Time

It's around that time of year again. It's very close to my birthday. I usually get depressed around this time, and recently I found some pictures that did not help my mood. These pictures made me realize that time does no one any favors.

I was surfing Yahoo News and I came upon this picture of Jim Carrey and Jenny McCarthy:












They say time ravages the face, but I think in this case time replaced Carrey's face with a catcher's mitt.

A couple of days ago I watched the movie "With Honors," which stars Brendan Fraser. After the movie I looked Fraser up on Wikipedia and came across this picture:
























It looks like Fraser traded his hair for an extra chromosome.

Utica Wedding

This weekend I went to my friends' wedding in Utica, New York. I was surprised by how nice the town was. It was surrounded by rolling fields of green, and the town itself had a lot of character. There were not one, but two record shops within walking distance.

It was colder than usual, and I had forgot to bring a jacket, so my friends and I stopped by the Salvation Army. I bought two awesome corduroy blazers, one of them being bright red, which went well with my shiny purple nails.

It made me realize that most of my favorite pieces of clothing were bought in thrift stores. I find that if I shop at thrift stores, I'm more likely to wear something more interesting and risky. If people question my fashion sense, I can always use the thrift store defense, implying that it's better to buy something that's cheap and audacious rather than something expensive and plain.

The wedding was tons of fun. I got to spend a lot of time with good friends, and I got to catch up with some old ones.

You can view a slideshow of photos I took at the wedding here.

I decided to hire a cat sitter for this trip, being that I found it too stressful on myself and my cat to load him up in the car every time. When I got home after the wedding, I found a note on my door that stated something akin to:

“Your cat is fine…..so cute….blah blah still have your key….blah blah stop by later….blah blah I BORROWED YOUR ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT SEASON TWO DVD.”

The emphasis in this statement was added by me.

Some of you might be familiar with this ancient Chinese proverb: “Don’t fuck with another man’s car.”

Some of you may be less familiar with the female equivalent of this proverb, which is: “Don’t fuck with a single woman-who-doesn’t-have-cable-tv’s DVD collection.”

I tried not to get too miffed. After all, she did tell me she borrowed it, despite not asking for real permission. Besides, it was kinda like someone borrowing my bible. Yes, they took it without asking for permission, but it will help convert her to the awesomeness that is the Arrested Development series.

Another Expulsion Article

This one I wrote when Patrick Ramsey was moved from starting to backup quarter back for the Redskins. For those of you don't know, Patrick Ramsey looks like he's twelve years old. This is a point/counterpoint.


No One Takes Me Seriously Anymore, Not Even Coach
by Patrick Ramsey

I can’t stand this anymore. Everyone treats me like a stupid little kid. I keep getting pushed around. I’m constantly bullied on the field, and my offensive doesn’t want to cover me. They think it’s “cute” when I get sacked three times in a row. They laugh so hard they don’t care that we lose to the freaking Cardinals because they got four safeties off us. What does a guy gotta do to get some respect?

Whatever happened to team unity? When I was at Tulane I set over 20 passing records. I couldn’t have done that without the help of my offensive line, who didn’t think it was so funny to see me get knocked on my ass every week.

I try explaining my college success to my fellow ‘Skins, and they mostly laugh and say that I probably fit in well with the other “little college shits.” When I get upset they would offer me some milk and cookies. Lavar Arrington usually offers me a consoling shoulder, and he says it is because the other guys are jealous of my boyish good looks. If that doesn’t cheer me up, he offers to put me down for a nap.

Things briefly changed when Spurrier made me the starter in his last season as Redskins Head Coach. He seemed to be the only team player. But after he left and Coach Gibbs signed on, things went right back to crappy. Gibbs signed on stupid Mark Brunnell, who stupidly sucked throughout the first half of the 2004 season. I guess then Coach decided to give me a real chance and he put me back as the starter. At the time I thought, “Finally, some gosh darn recognition!” For a while, things seemed to only get better.

A month after putting me back in the game, Coach announced that I would be the starting quarterback of the 2005 season. This is where the poop hit the fan again.I guess the guys found it pretty funny that I was the head of the team again. They began bullying moreso than they had ever done before. Every time I get sacked now, Portis looks at me with a fake frown and says “Aww what’s wrong? Are you gonna cry now little girl?” I find this question rather obtuse considering that I’m usually not crying out of pain, but to help reject the cleat spikes that are imbedded in my eyes sockets.

Then came the Bears game. The neck injury I suffered during this game was minor, but Coach saw it fit to take me out and make Mark Brunnell the starter. That Brunnell is such an f-ing a-hole. Out of all the jerks on the team, he is the meanest to me. He says that if I don’t call him “Big Master Daddy” every time he makes a completion, he’ll tell the monsters in my closet to eat my family. Every now and then I hear rumbling noises in my closet, but I swear it is just Santana Moss doing drills.

Well, Hi There, Little Boy! Are You Lost?
By A Teenage Girl

Well aren’t you just the most precious thing I ever saw! You are so cute and sweet I could just eat you up! Now, what is a little guy like you doing in a big, scary stadium like this? I’m here because it’s my little brother’s birthday and he is a big Santana Moss fan. Say, you are probably about my brother’s age. Once we find your parents we should arrange a play date! Oh, little boy, don’t cry. I’ll get you some candy, and then we will find your mommy and daddy. It may take awhile; do you have to go potty? No? You are fully trained right? Well aren’t you a big boy now! If I had any stickers I’d give you a big gold star. So how old are you sweetheart? Oh, you kidder, you couldn’t possibly be 26! You don’t look a day over 8. Gee, this stadium is big, don’t ya think? Well, that’s ok. You can come home with me! You can sleep on the edge of my bed, right next to my cat Mr. Noodles. Do you like kitty cats? Can you spell CAT? Really, oh my what a smart one you are! You are such a sweetie; I must show you to my friends! If you do some tricks for them, I’ll give you a whole shiny quarter. Wouldn’t you like that little guy? You could buy a trading card! Who is your favorite player? Mine is Mark Brunnell. You know, if you eat your vegetables, you could be big and strong like him when you grow up!

Photo Competition and Puerto Rico pictures

I recently entered a photo of mine in The New York Institute of Photography’s Photo Contest. The theme is “Your Hometown: Local Music.”

I took this photo of a bluegrass street band in Old Town Alexandria. If you like it, please vote for it by clicking on the photo below and then clicking on “Vote!”

I also finally uploaded my Puerto Rico pictures. You can view them here.

Ocean City, Maryland 2007

Earlier this month I visited my favorite place in the universe, Ocean City.

Some of you may scoff at this. I am well aware that Ocean City is over-commercialized and full of hicks. It's basically a low-class-beach-front Las Vegas, without the gambling, if you are in a hotel near the boardwalk, that is.

My family owns a house in Little Salisbury, the one residential area in the north part of city.

It's the best place on Earth.

















You can view the slide show here.

After I Ocean City my brother and I went to Puerto Rico with our mom and step-family. I will post the slide show of that later.

Chicago

Last weekend I went to Chicago with my family and I took several photos:

















You can view the slide show here.

Harry Potter 2007

Last night I went to the Harry Potter Release party at the Barnes and Noble in Fairfax. I took a whole bunch of pictures with my new camera:














Here is a slideshow.

The Most Important Purchase of My Life

Recently I made the most important purchase of my life. This seemingly small trinket has already affected my life to a degree that could not have previously fathomed. After I purchased it, I took it home and put it on my shelf and admired it from a distance, as one might admire a sunset or a Picasso in an exclusive art gallery.

This product has inspired me to travel to exotic places, to try new foods and to meet new people. It is my muse, my heart, my everything. It has shed light on my otherwise shadowy disposition. Its importance to me might not be unlike the pen to Hemingway, the bow to Vivaldi, the brush to Dali. It is the tool that will define my artistry, write my history, and sing my music.

Last week, I bought a six ounce stainless steel flask.

I bought it for this booze cruise that I went on with some coworkers last week. The cruise, which took us from Georgetown to Old Town Alexandria, was 45-minutes long and they only served beer and wine. Since I'm try to slim down, I only drink hard liqour, and therefore I needed way to smuggle some aboard. I went to the liqour, purchased this gem along with a bottle of Wild Turkey, and sailed into the sunset (figuratively; the boat sailed southeast).



I'm kidding. Well only half-kidding. I did indeed buy a flask for the booze cruise, but that wasn't my life-changing purchase. This was:


A Canon EOS D350 Digital Rebel XT SLR with an F-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 lens. Unlike the flask, most of the things I mentioned in the first paragraph really do apply. Having a great camera will force me to try new things and go to new places.

Three things inspired me to buy this camera at this point in time:

1) After a six-year hiatus from photography, I finally had the money to buy it.
2) The price. Both the camera and the memory card were on sale.
3) I will be traveling to three different cities next month (Chicago, Ocean City, and San Juan).

There is also one other awesome product that has come into my life:








This, my friends, is a melodica. It sounds a bit like a small accordion, or a concertina. If you really want to know what it sounds like, it is featured in the song Champagne Supernova by Oasis.

I did not purchase this product. It belonged to my cousins, and they are letting me borrow it for an unknown amount of time. For the past year or so, I would play it sporadically, but now that it is in my possession, I play it nearly everyday. My goal is to learn a new song every week or so.

Once the battery on my new camera is charged, I plan to take 1000 pictures of my cat, make a cuteness collage, and post it here. Stay tuned.

My First Business Trip

My first business trip was to a print site just outside of Rochester, NY, in a town called Henrietta. I spent two horrid weeks there, then I went on to visit friends and family in the rest of the state. Since I didn't bring a camera with me, I had to borrow pictures from the Internet to illustrate my journey.




This is the town of Henrietta, NY:























I was stationed here:
























This is what I looked like during my time there, except with more work, and I was slightly more attractive:



















This was the one friend I met there:





















I also watched quite a bit of HBO in my hotel, and I fell in love with Flight of the Conchords:

















I plan to marry the one on the right, then cheat on the one on the right with the one on the left.

Eventually my project was finished, and I went to visit my friend Jay in Ithaca. This is Jay:























He painted his fingernails in honor of my visit.

And this is Ithaca (compared to Henrietta):




















This is my friend Jay's favorite band, The Verve:



















This was Jay's reaction when he found out that the band was getting back together:























I met some of Jay's friends:
















We climbed one of Ithaca's famous gorges:























Then I went to Syracuse to visit my family:
















And last but not least, at the airport, an insanely hot guy sat next to me on the shuttle bus:























Fin.

My extremely intensive and extensive review of Pirates of the Caribbean 3

Orlando Bloom is hotter than Johnny Depp. There, I said it. I feel so much better now.

Grade: F-

The Silent but Deadly Epidemic

A few years ago I lived with some friends in a rented townhouse. We ran an independent newspaper together. At least once a week we would get drunk and try to brainstorm ideas for the paper.

On one of these evenings, my roommate Oliver and I decided to make a beer and snacks run at the local 7-11. As per usual, we were goofing off in the store, cracking bad jokes and the like. We started browsing through the snack cake section. I turned towards Oliver to crack a joke about extra-long Ho-Hos, but before I could speak, he let out a gasp and his eyes widened with amazement. I knew he had just seen something astonishing. I looked towards the entrance to see if that was the source of the amazement. Nothing. I looked towards the cashier. Again, nothing. I looked back at Oliver, who was still catatonic with bewilderment. I looked down at the assortment of snack cakes before us.

Prominently displayed next to the powdered sugar donuts was a close-up of an extra-large, gaping, asshole. It looked like it had not been cleansed in the better part of this decade. The asshairs, which were easily visible due to the spread eagle nature of the photograph, were thick and matted. The strawberry-blond color of the asshairs made us very suspicious of the rose-Aryan cashier.

As a poetic cu-de-tat, the rim of the asshole was coated in a white powdery substance, not unlike condensed sugar. I looked from the photo towards the neighboring powdered donuts, and was amazed by the resemblance. My appetite for snack cakes had now dwindled, and I headed towards the Slim Jims.

We made our purchases and exited the store. We walked slowly to the car, pondering what we had just witnessed. Who was this person, and what possessed him (or quite possibly, her) to flaunt their bung in the snack cakes section? Did they wakeup and say “Yep! Today’s the day!”

Oliver insisted that the cashier was the asshole assailant. We turned back to the automatic glass doors. We gave him the stink eye, just as he had allegedly given us moments earlier.

Little did we know that we were at the forefront of an epidemic…

I was surfing some Internet forums the other day, and I stumbled upon this post.

It seems Oliver and I are not the only victims of this hanus act (misspelling intended).

Only one question remains:

Which one of you will be next victim of the bunghole bandit?

Possible Secondary Tragedies

It hasn't been the best week, to say the least. I'm not going to get supergushy on this blog and unload about my sympathy for the VT victim's families, which is in abundance. I will say that my brother (a senior at VT) is fine. As much as my heart swells with sympathy for others, it is equally filled with gratitude for my brother's wellbeing.

But that is not what this blog entry is about. The one thing that has hit a bad note with me has been the constant mention of Asian-American people, specifically Koreans, fearing backlash because the perpetrator was Korean. I can't be help that no one would have ever thought to attack Asian-Americans had the media not called specific attention to the perpetrator's race. During the Columbine Massacre, I don't believe Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold's races were ever in the spotlight. Neither were their sexes, eye/hair colors, religions, or sexual orientations. No media corporation reported "White Males Fearing Backlash."

These incidents are completely separate from race. All races are capable of extreme acts of hate.

Finally, let us not forget the victims. Let us not forget Mary Read, the half-Korean "fun-loving 19-year-old" from Annandale, VA, or Henry Lee, the Chinese-American computer engineering student. If one were to attack Asian-Americans because of the perpetrator’s race, they would be attacking the Mary Read’s and Henry Lee’s families. If one were to blindly lash out at Asian-Americans because of this tragedy, they would do nothing more then dishonor the victim's memories, and add a bigger load to their families' already unbearable burden.

Awesomeness

The Onion has started distributing paper isues at metro stations in DC. It's about loving time. I've been driving to work in the past couple days. Driving is convenient, but it is more costly and it doesn't get me any exercise. Now that The Onion is now at my metro station, I now have more incentive to ride my bike to the blue line in the morning.

I really shouldn't be so excited about this.

The Perfect Movies List

This list could also be called "The Best Movies You've Never Seen" as all of them were probably considered box office bombs. But there are hundreds of "Best Movies That Did Shitty Opening Weekend" lists. There are very few "Perfect Movie" lists.

What do I mean by "Perfect Movies" you ask? Well, I mean several things. A perfect movie fully satisfies all the desires that lie buried within the human psyche. They execute situations of love, action, suspense, hate, and melancholy with flawless precision, animated wit, and supreme genuineness.

Watching a perfect movie is a sublime encounter. You feel like a better person for partaking in a perfect movie. The movie adds to your bank of experience. It gives more than it could possibly take. The time spent watching a perfect movie is productive time. Just by watching a perfect movie, you feel like you've molded the movie around your own personality. You leave the experience and step back, much like an artist stepping back from a canvas to reflect on her work. The perfect movie becomes your own art.

Here is my short list. There are definetly more than what is on this list.



1) Wonder Boys- Sometimes it is difficult to distill the essence of a movie, because it lives in the mind. Not really, that previous sentence was a quote from the film. This movie is about a writer, Grady Tripp, who is suffering from the opposite of writer's block. Though he has no problem getting words on to the page, his anti-writer's block is just as imposing. His neverending opus is impedeing on his success as a writer, being that it is preventing him from publishing his followup novel. During the course of a weekend, his wife leaves him, his editor shows up asking about the book, his on-the-side girlfriend drops a metaphorical bomb on him, and in the meantime, one of his troubled students has been following him on this wild ride of a weekend. It's sentimental and witty without sapiness or self-indulgence. The movie is about self-discovery, love, lust, drugs, passion, drugs, alcohol, writing, booze, pills, and dead dogs. What more could anyone want?


2) Joe Versus The Volcano- Not many people seem to like this film. But I have a theory about this. You know how sometimes you will have very fond memories of a certain movie or tv show, and when you revisited it later in life, you realized how stupid it really was? I think the opposite is going on here. This movie came out when most of my contemporaries were in grade school, so a lot of the complexities of this detailed cinematic manifesto may have been lost on them. The same thing happened to me when I saw The Big Lebowski the first time. I thought it was stupid, raunchy and juvenile. Now it is one of my favorite films. This movie is more literary than it appears upon first glance. There are several underlying themes and subtle nuances that weave this story into an amazingly epic tapestry of a film. If you ever rent this movie, plan this fun little drinking game:
Take a drink everytime you see the "lightning" symbol. You will find yourself more than tipsy by the end of the film. Bonus drinking if you hear a reference to the symbol.

3) Donnie Darko- Everyone should have seen this movie by now. If you haven't, crawl out from under your rock and Netflix it.











4) The Big Lebowski- See above. I have only one thing to say about this film. A lot of people have said that this is a purely masculine film. Anyone who says that has clearly overlooked the hard feminity of the female lead, Maude Lebowski. She is womanly but strong. A perfect ideal of a woman.

My extremely intensive and extensive review of 300

It was HOT. The extremely well built men were 3/4 nakey the whole time! The story telling was lame, the effects were good. But the men were HOTTTTTTTTTTT!

Lots of gory violence as well. It had as many beheading scenes as Sin City had castration scenes.

It was all around delicious.

New Apartment

I have finally moved into my new apartment. Not only that, I've almost settled in. Just a few things remain:

-I need to get and rf modulator for my tv
-I need to get cable Internet

For a solid week I did not have a tv, so I relied heavily on radio, dvds on my laptop, and books to keep my sanity.

Right now I'm sitting in a trendy coffee shop just a block away from my new place. This place has free Wi-Fi, which is awesome, being that I have no Internet at home.

So far everything has been great at my new place. It's quiet, clean and in a good location. It has a gym, bike room and laundry on site.

I will post pictures once I take them and then find a stable Internet connection.

On Friday I will be picking up a bike from my mom's house, then, weather permitting, I will explore the town.

Another "Best Of Expulsion" Article

Expulsion Exclusive!: Bush’s
Rough Draft of RNC Speech

Thanks to the heroic efforts of Expulsion’s own team of undercover spies, we have obtained a rare first draft of George W. Bush’s Speech at the Republican National Convention. Many thanks to those who lost their lives for this historic document.


My Speech for the Republikaan Nashunal Convenshun

My name is George Dubl U Bush. My mommy
sayz I should run for Prezadent agin. She sayz
I.m the coolest boy in the Whit Horse. I wuld
make a good prezadent agin cause I gave lots
of monies to all my friends. If I am eleckted
prezadent agin, I will give more monies to my
friends. If I am prezadent I will not alow homor
homer homosech Gaywads to get married. My
friend, Mr. Cheney, sayz I should get reeelekted
cause Mr. John Kerry is an fword-ing butthole. Mr.
Cheney also say that Mr. Kerry is a small cat. He
uses another word for small cat, but mommy
sayz that I shouldn.t say it. I think Mr. Kerry.s nose
loks like a giant peepee, and his cheeks look like
droopy balls.
I like playing war a lot. We should get into
more wars with the terororists. Terororists are
scary brown men with Weapons of Mass
Destrukshun. Did I say Weapons? I mean Programs
for WMDs. Did I say programs? I mean
plans for programs of WMDs. Besides, a terororist
with a slingshot is still a terororist, and I say we
should see their slingshots with rocket launchers. I like rocket launchers.
I also like horses and frogs and I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight.
But I also like starting fights with the smelly brown people. It makes me
feel big, like He-Man. When I grow up I want to be He-man, or possibly a
CHoo-Choo train. When I am a choo-choo train, I will drive all the way to
the middle east and run over osama bin laden. Then I will take his snack
pack money.
I think i will make a great prezadent because i am good speaker
and i like blowing things up. Prezadents have to like blowing things up,
cause that is their job. If you make me prezadent, I will make sure that
tatter tots are served every friday, and that their will be a bigger hot
tub in every millionaire's bathroom. Thank you.

Memories

I've decided to post some of the articles that I wrote as Humor Editor for Expulsion, GMU's only independent newspaper, for two reasons: 1) I don't have time to write a full entry, and 2) the Expulsion website will probably close down, so I want to post them here so I have access to them.

So the next couple entries will probably just be my Expulsion greatest hits.

This article was published in October 2005, in a special bizarro world edition of Expulsion:

Bruce Campbell Wins His 12th Academy Award


This year’s Academy Awards had moments of grandeur, surprise and awe. The red carpet was a sea of glitter, glam and breathtaking beauty. However, none of us were stunned when Bruce Campbell walked away with three academy awards, making a grand total of twelve Oscars within the past ten years. With grace and charm that can rival no other, Campbell was able to thank all 43 members of his family, 37 of his closest friends, and give three shout outs to Buddha, Jesus, and some guy named Bob in all three of his acceptance speeches.

Bruce Campbell’s career started with a major bang when he starred in the international blockbusters Evil Dead, Evil Dead 2, and Army of Darkness. His role as Ash in all three of these movies earned him three separate best actor nominations and two wins. Several Hollywood elitists agree that Campbell was robbed of the Oscar for Army of Darkness, and most say it was because the movie hinted at some sort of massive monarchial conspiracy to end capitalism.

Campbell went on to conquer Hollywood for the next eight years, snagging at least one Oscar every year. After the Evil Dead films, his next project entitled “Zombies Ate My Brain” snagged him another leading role Oscar. The year following he nabbed another leading role Oscar for his portrayal of Harvey P. Knockers in the internationally acclaimed epic “When Harvey met Some Zombies.”

With all this Oscar action, Campbell still has not met the record for most Academy Awards won by one person, a record which is still held by the late Walt Disney at 487. However, Campbell broke the record this year for most Best Actor Oscars received by a single man. During the 78th Academy Awards, Campbell nabbed two Oscars for starring and directing his tour-de-force “Leaves of Grass: A Zombie Killer’s Tale.” Additionally, he also nabbed a best actor award for his portrayal of Johnny, the deaf, blind and mildly autistic hero in “Zombies Attack Johnny: the Deaf, Blind and Mildly Autistic Hero.”

“This is so unexpected,” said Campbell as he accepted his last award of the evening. “I only prepared two speeches. Well I guess I will have to thank Sam Raimi’s money, Sam Raimi’s popularity, and last, but not least, God.”

Smorgasbord

Way too much has been going on.

I look at my life as a long list of to-dos. Some of the to-dos are really banal, like filing taxes. Some are more exciting, like planning for trips. My next trip is going to be to New York City on President's Day Weekend. It will be a trip on behalf of my cousin's 16th birthday. We will go shopping, walk around Central Park, go to the museums, and, as a special gift, I got us tickets to this:

















On Broadway, no less. I got the tickets for amazingly cheap. It is a matinee, though.

My next big trip will be Puerto Rico in August. Eventually I will go somewhere less commonplace, like the Galapagos Islands. Perhaps hiking in New Zealand. Anything is possible.

Pan's Labyrinth

I went to this movie expecting a slightly dark fantasy flick. You know, like The Neverending Story meets The Dark Crystal. What I got was Irreversible. I have seen snuff films with less violence.

The movie takes place in 1944 in fascist Spain. The movie's main character, an imaginative little girl named Ofelia, is the step-daughter of a very cruel army captain. The movie starts with Ofelia and her pregnant mother moving onto the Captain's post, which is located in a dreamy, unnamed, deciduous forest in the Spanish countryside. While wandering in the forest, Ofelia encounters a fairy, who leads her into a fantastic world of faun's, ogres, and secrets. In between Ofelia's encounters with the fantasy world (which are surprisingly few and far between) her mother is falling ill, and her mercilessly cruel stepfather is trying to quash the guerrilla warfare in the countryside by using the most brutal of practices.

I walked out of the theatre thinking I had just seen one and half movies. The stepfather gets more screen-time than the main character, and almost all of his scenes involve intense violence. This movie focused more on the harshness of warfare rather than cherishing of wonderment. I felt like I saw a whole war movie, than half of a dark fantasy movie.

I guess the key to enjoying this movie is knowing what to expect. It is well written, directed, and had excellent acting. However, it is more of a war movie than a fantasy film. It is not, repeat NOT, a film for kids. In fact, anyone, at any age, who has a weak stomach should stay away from this film. But if you like good film-making, and you don't cringe at violence not unlike the worst scenes from Saw, then knock yourself out. Oh, and surprisingly, most people where unaware that the movie foreign, so it has subtitles. Now you know.

Happy n00b Year

One of my promises to myself is to keep up with my writing. That means actually paying attention to this thing. It’s 5 P.M. on New Year’s Day, and I’m still in my pjs. I’ve spent most of the day watching the DVDs that I got for Christmas. The holidays were great, as usual. Here some of the stuff I hauled in:

This was one of my family's favorite shows. It appealed to everyone in our family.

Josh got this for me. I asked for it specifically. I made the most delicious sweet and sour meat balls with it.

Of course.

Another gift from Josh. My old one had a couple different species of mold.

A sappy but hilarious show.

Naturally.

I’ve got about 100 hours of DVD watching to catch up on.

I’m planning on moving in a month and I haven’t even found a place. I’m not that worried though because I know deep down I won’t be homeless.

I saw my best friend Oliver over the weekend. He invited me to this family party at his parents’ house. His sister just had her first baby, and this party was sort of like a big baby unveiling. His sister’s friends brought over their babies as well, and at one point we had a baby pile. It was a little mountain of adorable. Then they all started crying, kind of how neighborhood dogs set each other off. I was then reminded of how quiet (and equally adorable) cats are.

As far as 2006 is concerned, it was a year that evened itself out. The first half of the year wasn’t that great. My best friend left town, I couldn’t find a job, and my current job was getting on my nerves. But then I got a new job, and I’m still in touch with him. I feel like this year is the first year for the rest of my life. Or some such bullshit.