MinJungKim.com

Another to add to the “Min Jung is weird” category

Audioblog: 10.31.02

Holy Shit.

Watch all the Pucca files.
I wanna be Pucca.

“KOREAN AMERICAN DRAMA IS CASTING IN LA” found off of KoreanFilm.org

KOREAN-AMERICAN DRAMA – TV PILOT CASTING CALL
“Love Among Us” (JUNG)
Director / Writer: Michael McDonald
Casting Contact: Isaac Kim
Principal Photography: End of November, 6 Day Shoot
Pay: Deferred, Credit, Meals
SEND HEADSHOTS AND RESUMES BY NOVEMBER 15th:
Ahn Productions, Inc.
P.O. Box 34674
L.A., CA 90034
Questions email:
LoveAmongUsDrama@yahoo.com Do not send attachments. Questions only.
Breakdown
Male, 19-27, College student, Lean, fit, clean cut. “Player.” look. Knowledge of gambling is helpful, not required. PRINCIPLE

Female, 17-29, College student, girl next door type, wholesome and natural. PRINCIPLE

Male, 14-18. Junior High/Early High School, innocent, mama’s boy look. Must also be able to play cool, hip hop gangster type. PRINCIPLE

Male, 22-30, old school Gangster type, tough, but clean cut, business style, Intimidating. PRINCIPLE

Male, 19-27, Bohemian artist type, homely, laid back, alternative, artist. PRINCIPLE

Female, 19-27, must pass for 22 year old, trendy, stylish, Rodeo Dr/Melrose type, high maintenance, full of attitude. PRINCIPLE

Female, 17-25, freshman in college, girl next door, shy, innocent. Korean American adoptee, midwestern accent would be helpful but not required. PRINCIPLE

Female, 16-20, late high school/freshman college, “Wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Wild Card.

ADDITIONAL INFO: In the month of July this new exciting drama was screened at the Times Square Hotel in NY during the Asian American Fillm Festival. Since then, response has been overwhelming and stations in LA, NY, Chicago, Hawaii, and many more… are sending requests to broadcast Love Among Us. This will be the first 12 episode prime time (English) Asian American drama to be broadcast on television.

Music by Neil Argo – Emmy winning composer of Melrose Place & Beverly Hills 90210
Lyrics by Roxanne Seaman – song writer for artists such as Barbara Streisand and Bette Midler.

I lied.

I did both tonight. (Dating for both sushi *and* tech support).

And ice cream too.

Hurray for chunky monkey.

PS.
Je regret that all the old comments went kaploowie phooey and ultra booey.
If you say everything with sound effects, it makes bad news seem not nearly as awful.

ie: “Grandma got run over by a reindeer – zowie…” or “Mr Jones, I’ve warned you about what would happen to your colon if you didn’t monitor your fiber intake… bllllllllaraaaattttttttt kaputt putt putt pooo”

I have just moved up from dating for sushi to dating for tech support.

Life is grand and I’m back online.

Woo hoo!

lots of stuff to fix still.
be patient.
Thanks,

testing dns move

PS.
Should this site go down over the weekend, don’t trip, I’m moving the domain to my new host.
MJ

How exciting was my Friday night?

Spent it trying to carve Charlie Brown & Hello Kitty faces onto pumpkins with my bible study.
I hope there still exists such delighful things as sincere pumpkin patches.

Sometimes you hate what you want.

Mostly when you can’t have it. Like right now, I can’t help the fact that I want a really good kiss. A curl your toes kind of kiss. I could go on, but you’ll have to read it on II Stix when it shows up there in the next few weeks.

Once long ago, I was foolish enough to put a kiss diary online. It wasn’t linked from anywhere, but somehow *someone* managed to find it and link it all over the place. I stopped updating that page shortly after that.

Foolish, huh? And man, what kind of kiss slut was I? Nine different guys in the course of one year but no kiss on my birthday or new years. How does that figure?

It’s been a few months since I’ve kissed someone and I’m feeling this weird sense of disequilibrium in the force. In college I was a discreet kissing ho’ too. For nearly two years I managed to kiss a new boy a month. Lucky them. Lucky me. Far too long ago since I had a streak like that.

I wonder if I’m approaching my sexual peak.
Weird.

Boys, you better watch out. I’m not myself these days and misbehavin’ is second nature to yours truly.

I’m looking for a new website host.

Problems: I have loads of storage ~300+ MB of files (maybe i should trim this down)
I get a healthy amount of traffic/transfer a month too..

Ideas? Help?
I have 30 days.
MJ

Reason #42 on why I won’t be appearing on any gameshow’s anytime soon.

To set the scene:
Chris is driving the pimp mobile with myself, Ernie, & Eric in tow. I am beswooned in witty rapture from the company of these gentlemen. I am later beswooned by the small bottle of single malt scotch that accompanies lunch, a gift from dear Eric who has returned from Ireland & Scotland.

We four are embarking on an adventure to eat a burrito of epic proportions with tasty salsa on the side. The sun is high and the skies are clear. The wind is blowing south west at 15 knots. The music is calamitous and raucous. It is Andrew W K. The party anthem album.

Chris: “So, like every song is something like ‘Time to Party’ or “I’m going to Party’ or ‘Party Night” or ‘Party Hard’ or something like that.

Eric: “Hey is this song what I think it is?”

Chris: “What? “Take…take…take it…?”

Moi: “Take it, Bitch?”

Chris: “WHAT?! No, No! It’s definitely not ‘Take it Bitch’. It’s ‘Take it *OFF*’

Ernie: “Gawd I’d love to see you on $100,000 Pyramid”

Moi: “Aw hell no, that’d be a train wreck. And besides, I don’t think the censors could keep up with me”

Ernie: “True.”

Because it’s been a while,

I’d like to declare this today as “Shake your fist at the skies” day.
Stupid things and people have crossed my path with a rather melodic abandon. Since I’m not allowed to kill anyone, I shall just save my fury for a moment later when I will clench my fist tightly and shake it vigorously at the sky for a few moments until the urge to cause bodily harm passes.

So what makes you want to shake your fists up at the skies?

Steve gave me homework

What? Plee?! That’s IT?!!!!

Ok, for those who are not “in the know”
Plee and I go way back. Way way way back. Somewhere between the womb and divaliciousness. College days, to be exact, when we, though from different universities several hundreds of miles apart, used to overdose on Korean American and Asian American intercollegiate activities and headaches. With similar attitudes of Korean Girl chutzpah, and charm, we got along famously over the internet for the year prior to us meeting serendipitously at a conference in Boston, and ever delightfully since our first face time meeting.

Both of us, armed with heavy rolodexes, were forces to be contended with in our own rights as we knew nearly everyone APA that was worth knowing within a 300 mile radius. For 19 year old college students, this was not to be taken lightly.

To this day we argue with each other over who knows more people. She refers to herself as the NY version of Me. I refer to myself as, well ~ just me. But that’s because I don’t *dare* to compare myself to the fearsome powers of social & professional networking that *she* has at her fingertips.

For the sake of equilibrium in the universe of Asian America, it is a very good thing that we reside on opposite coasts. Were we to spend too much time within each others’ spheres, there’d be some sort of cataclysmic event like an earthquake, or locusts, or…I dunno, my roommate getting laid.

We click. We rarely, if ever, need to explain ourselves or our woes to each other. I never feel at all hesitant to call her at odd ours of the morning to talk shop, get some reconnaissance on someone, or just plain dish. We occasionally commiserate about our similar woes with finding worthy men who can deal with our extensive social engagements and responsibilities. (Though she’s gone far more upscale, and me, more ghetto or fag/haggish).

I shit you not when I say I can quote her as saying
“You know, it’d be easier for us to find good men if we weren’t… you know… so … GOD.”

And on her last visit with me earlier in the year, I had tremendous anxiety that she would thieve away my pals. After all, within less than 15 minutes of meeting Ernie, she was beating him up. Literally. I mean, we *are* twins of sorts after all, but to take that right from me with such a sense of entitlement? My gawd. I’ve worked *YEARS* for the right to beat up Ernie and she nabs it in 15 fricking minutes!

And when I give her guest posting rights on my site and all she can say is “if you want to see my boobies…I will send you my sky diving pics. :X” I am utterly appalled. Appalled I say. Resoundingly appalled.

Appalled. She better make good with them sky diving pics to make up for this, yo. Appalled.