Hey!
Listen to some dudes in Chicago who are drunk/stoned audio & video blog!
With several horrendous mispronunciations of my name!
For those who only read my text and have never heard my name spoken, here’s a few notes for you.
Min - as in miniscule … like some guys penises that i know
Jung – Not like the fucked up psychologist quack pot but with the actual J sound. Still, it does rhyme with young. Soft g at the end. The second part of my first name should not sound like a Cantonese war yelp before butcher knives and swords (along with random instances of cherry blossoms and/or snow) get thrown through the air and Zhang Zi Yi pretends to not be pouty for once in a film.
Kim - as in Kimberly. That girl in highschool that you had the hots for so badly that you let her copy off of your physics test.
Other ways my name has been mispronounced in the most recent past?
Minja – as in Ninja.
For which I felt obliged to post the Pink Ninja pix.
*shaking head and clucking tongue in dismay*
In other news:
Latest mathematical/socialogical truisms
The liklihood of wifi being present is inversely proportional to the number of doilies on a premisis. Real Doilies. Paper Doilies apparently only mean that there are wifi networks present but locked off.
Tested and true.
Also: The propensity for doily making increases as the frequency of a woman’s menstruation cycle declines.
Also: The size of one’s purse is directly proportional to the number of people that a woman cares for. Those chicks with those tiny little hand clutches? Bitches. They’ll expect to be taken care of. Those women with epic sized bag larger than a mini-cooper are likely trying to take care of a small village in south america. And/or 2 children and a significant other who frequently acts like one. Add additional bags for diapers, yoga gear, and valium. Lots and lots of valium.
Also: The frequency with which one makes drunk dialing calls is inversely proportional to your acceptable level of attractiveness to anyone. ANYONE. And even your friends will feel less likely to try & pimp you out.
Also: The liklihood of trying to run on gas fumes towards the gas station is not indicative of idiocy so much as a chance to experience an opportunity for humility and recognition of a very heartbreaking human condition. (Oblique I know.. I’ll write more about this later)
Also: On a monday, one really does *not* need to hear a friend speak about purchasing a strap-on to spice up one’s sex life. Seriously. Ever. Unclean. Unclean. Unclean.
