MinJungKim.com

Kissing Bandit: Well, aren’t you going to say anything?
Moi: About what?
KB: Ya know. I saw them. They were all cooey and creepy and lovey dovey and stuff.
Moi: So?
KB: I mean. Here I was, just minding my business, having a latte and I see the dude who like… fuck. I mean. FUCK!
Moi: And?
KB: Then I saw that he was like all over that…I mean…
Moi: So it was pretty gross and goopy and stuff.
KB: Yeah. And like on your birthday and everything.
Moi: And my point again is, so?
KB: I mean… ok…
Moi: What.
KB: So you’re really not weirded out anymore?
Moi: A little.
KB: And that’s all you’re going to say?
Moi. Pretty much.
KB: What the fuck is going on.
Moi: *Shrug*
KB: Wow. So it’s really over.
Moi: Yup. Has been for a while. About time, right?
KB: And you’re really well adjusted and shit?
Moi: As best as I can be, considering.
KB: And even though that…
Moi: Yeah, don’t bring it up.
KB: Are you going to…
Moi: Probably not. I mean, why dig up old corpses again, right?
KB: True, but aren’t you at least a bit curious?
Moi: Nope. Not really.
KB: So, like, wow.
Moi: Yup. I know. I’m pretty proud of myself too.
KB: Does this mean you’re fucking someone new?
Moi: Maybe.
KB: Wait, is it a girl or a guy?
Moi: Bitch.
KB: That’s not an answer. Or…is it?
Moi: That’s cute.
KB: I mean, so tell me something great then.
Moi: It is with the best intentions that I declare a moratorium on drama when it comes to me and the meditations of my heart. Also, that should anyone try to dredge up drama that I don’t want into my life, that I shall not consider myself selfish or ungracious for promptly and uncompromisingly excising them from any opportunity to do so.
KB: What, and leave *me* to cause all the trouble by my lonesome?
Moi: You and your pussy posse.
KB: Will you at least tell me *something* about this new person in your life?
Moi: He’s pretty fucking great.
KB: It only matters if he’s great at fucking.
Moi: So say you.
KB: Only cuz it’s so true.

National Poetry Month is wrapping up.

“To commemorate the end of National Poetry Month, blog about your favorite poem and provide at least one link to other poems and/or a bio of the poet.”

Morning Poem by Mary Oliver
(more…)

Think before speaking.

Because if you’re trying to say something flirty regarding red panties and ear nibbles, the last thing you want to do is accidentally make a reference to Miracle Whip when you really meant Cool Whip.

Yes, I really can be that dumb sometimes.

Oh come on, give a girl a break.
Engrish isuh not my purst language-uh.

Booyah.

Highlights:

Roses with Haiku!
Squished Chocolate Cake!
Lots of Liquor!
Hug Decanter of Lemon Soju!
Lots of new friends!
Hip Hop Ring Tones!
Hula Hooping!
Dancing!
Great Music!
Same Sex Kissing (Boys! Girls! Joy between Straights and LGB!)!
Partial Nudity!
37 Year old Scotch!
Monks Juice (don’t ask)!
Loads of Kimchi Jjigeh!
The cops swung by and were nice!
Impromptu Piano concert by Mou @ 3AM!
Snuggling up to fall asleep happy with 2 girls in slumber party!

A good time had by all!

Officially 30 and still a pouty brat.

This is going to be a very good year. 2004 has been good to me so far.

Happy Birthday me.

Now while I loves me some MT and heard raves of TypePad, I can’t help but see the logo as a woman’s crack from behind with a tampon string dragging out.

*shrug*

Lillypad? My ass.
Er…not *my* ass. But well, you know what I mean.

Oh man!

First the headlock to Mr. Abrams. Next, the guillotine.

Via Lia

WASHINGTON (Reuters) — Poets die young — younger than novelists, playwrights and other writers, a U.S. researcher said Wednesday.

“The fact that a Sylvia Plath … may die young does not necessarily mean an Introduction to Poetry class should carry a warning that poems may be hazardous to one’s health,” he said.

No, seriously.

Nerdtastic!

a) Breedster
You’re a bug. You eat. You shit. You fuck. The end.

UPDATE: I have a free egg if you want to try it out.

b) Dodgeball
“It’s like Friendster for your mobile phone.”
Kinda interesting stuff. Might be fun if you’re like me and want to use it for social coordination (ie trying to track down your friends at …say…Coachella. Or while out clubbing in SF)

But *this* association/application for it is uh… not for me.

If it did, it could replace Craigslist in their Casual Encounters sphere. I betcha if this springboards anywhere in the US, it’d be here.

This soft drenched conversation
Under dream covers, heavy and warm
When your voice is in my ear
And your breath against my cheek

It reminds me of my younger days
Before you and I ever met
And I’d lie back on the summer grass
Watch clouds, taste honey and lilac in the air

I didn’t know that I was closer to you then
While clinging tightly to the ground
Feeling the earth pulse beneath my spine.
If I concentrated, very carefully, I could hear you smiling.

An early bday present from the fine peeps over at Google and Gmail.

My very own gmail account.
minjung at gmail dot com

Hit me up.

Now this is good for a laugh.

With my birthday coming up (next week!)
I am doing a gutcheck on how I am with my current new year’s resolutions.

To reiterate:

New Year’s Thunk – 1/1/2004
* Go forth into the new year “naked” and keep that in mind every once in a while.
* Life is too short not to look cute.
* It is not being selfish to say no sometimes. Even to yourself.
* People will survive or fail based on their own personal actions, words, and relationships.
* You can only be responsible for yourself. You can only fix yourself. You cannot wish for nor be a savior or salve, crutch nor Christ for anyone else.
* If you can, do. or…as better phrased “Do or Do Not. There is no try.” – Yoda

I think I’m doing alright.

Went housepainting at Ernie’s new digs today.

See the shots.