February 2005 Archive

In response to a comment on one of my posts.

Hi,

I am amazed by Koreans. You are a very driven, well-educated people who prosper wherever they set-up a liquor store or dry cleaners. I live in northern China and there are 60,000 Koreans here and they own most of the businesses..However, I spent four months in Korea teaching and hated every second. The food was terrible, the men all drank like fish, the women are beautiful, but for the eyes only….What makes you guys tick???

Comment by Dan — 2/8/2005

My response for your pleasure:
What makes Korean people tick?
Well liquor of course. Sub-atomic nuclear cold fusion managed by under highly polarized Kimchi Fridge environments. (If you’ve never actually seen a Kimchi Fridge, then you have not lived life to the fullest. They are mighty and bold. My parents can’t program the time on their VCR but their Kimchi Fridge can predict weather patterns and identify non carbon based environments suitable for life on Mars, Pluto, and Epsilon 5 )

And, oh yeah, how could I forget the evil monkey factory. That completely makes Korean people tick.

So yesterday I made it through the entire day without cursing.
For a potty mouth like myself it was quite a feat. Seriously.
And I also managed to say Happy New Years to all folks before plunking forward with my day.
These were all good things.

Today I woke up and the first words out of my mouth were
“Shit. Shit. Fuck. Damn. Fuckity Fuck Fuck on a Poo Stick.”

*Shrug*
So much for attempts at new year’s resolutions.

Also, instead of being as nice inside my head, I’ve wanted to beat people over the head with a clue stick.
And kick ‘em in the nuts with my mighty clue boots.

Nuts Kicking Clue boots. That’d be a nice brand name, now wouldn’t it. Nice ring to that.

Which means wearing red, and trying not to curse, settling debts, and cleaning house.
I am enamored and personally entrenched with the sense of traditions, values, rituals, and community that make this day particularly auspcious from both Spiritual and Cultural influences in my life.

Overall, I’m enjoying feeling a sense of hope and goodness.

Today I’ll burn incense for my family and make my way to church to get ashes on my forehead.

Convo with Ms Glenda.

[17:26] killapina: doesn’t fat tuesday mean that heavily intoxicated people run around looking for beads?
[17:28] Mjkim1974: yes.
[17:28] Mjkim1974: why that’s what it says in the bible.
[17:28] Mjkim1974: “and lo, there shall be drunkenness and men making money ‘filming girls be gone wildeth’”
[17:29] killapina: eff that, i think man boobies are way funnier
[17:29] killapina: i hereby declare today man boobie day
[17:29] Mjkim1974: funnier yes, lucrative, not so much.

My very talented friend Dean posted some gorgeous pix of the trip a bunch of us took to Tahoe.

That’s me about to run down a sled. I think this was likely before faceplanting.

This and the fact that he was willing to go on the insane quest for In & Out burgers en route up there, and didn’t make fun of me too much for having polished of 3 4 Animal Style Double Doubles (yes 4. but it was over 3 days. I forgot about the one I had when we got home) over the course of the weekend, makes him an excellent friend to have, indeed.

Someone’s been a bad bad girl.

Yesterday, I was with someone, a very beautiful woman, who wanted to stop being alone.
And it shadowed her face, and bruised her hubris a little, to admit that being alone was something that she found both comfort and terror with. And she wanted, needed, and prayed for someone else to be strong for her, because, while she wasn’t weary yet, could anticipate a long harsh and exhausting trial ahead of her. I told her that she was breathtaking. I’d so rarely in my lifetime been so lucky as to encounter such a pure heart.

Earlier in the week, I was with someone, a very beautiful woman, who wanted to stop feeling trapped.
Perhaps trapped isn’t the right word. Dissatisfied is part of it. Frustrated and angry is another. Jjipped, bait and switched, fooled, chumped, and sulky might be other words. Her heart, cchipped bit by bit, weary, and worn, kicked around like a ragdoll owned by a petulant child. I can only imagine what’s going through her head right now. Also terrified of being alone, but more terrified of wasting any more of herself on someone who would not cherish her enough.

Today I was standing at sunset on the beach.
And I was lost in the moment of trying to figure out what was more beautiful:
The sun itself setting into the ocean
The reflecrion of this sunset on the waves
Or perhaps the most ephemeral and imperminent micromoment of the sunset reflecting on the sheen of beach shore immediately after a wave had come in and chased itself out again. That moment of inbetween,caught between the elements, at the end of something great which means something clean sets the stage for the next day.

Perhaps.

Come back from the beach with slightly dirty feet and consider
the possibility of it being far more efficent to wash your feet
in the toilet than in the tub?

I mean, *just* for a second?
After all, you keep a very clean bathroom
and those chorline tabs in there must be good for something, right?
Did you ever think that?
Seriously?

You’re one sick sunnavabitch, you know that.

Honestly, I really don’t care that much about the size of your dick.
So if you inadvertantly got viagra spam from an email address that looks like mine, trust me, it wasn’t me.
So:

Peculiar coincidences.

Today: Decide to activate my LinkedIn account.
Today: Get trackback spam for the first time. A shitload of it.
Today: Get bounceback email msgs cuz it looks like someone’s sending pharmaceautical spam from waht would look like my email address. But it isn’t. Really. I don’t really care if you’re depressed or have insecurities about your dick size. I’m too busy being preocupied about my own depression and my recent choices in dicks. (Don’t ask. No seriously).

Gracious. Crap on a stick.
Now isn’t that just peachy.