Happy Chinese New Year!

In case you haven't smelled it coming yet, yes folks, this is the Year of the Dog.

"Experts warn pet-owners to shoot all Chinamen on sight"

As part of my anti-anti-sociality training, I took Erin and JFK to the Chinese New Year Festival at C-Side, this past Saturday. Erin, because she's undertaking to learn Mandarin. John F. Kennedy, because he's dead and hasn't been to a good party in a long time. I wanted to keep that streak going for him.

Ok, so Joseph Francis Kregler also works. (Attention all Internet child molesters: if his full name is not enough, email me at strugglingcomic@gmail.com and I will forward you his home address and phone number.)

Things we learned:
1) The Chinese Communist Party leadership wished us all a Happy New Year, c/o of the Chinese Consulate in Houston.
2) The cute Chinese children flanked us on all sides and began their bombardment.
3) Box dinner means what it says.
4) Raffles are not meant to be won, especially not by the cheap tickets, and especially not by white people.
5) I have no conman-skills, yet...
6) There are no attractive Chinese females around my age.

Then we hit a Blockbuster (that hurt), and couldn't decide what to get. The Aristocrats was unavailable for rental, so me being the smart business man that I am, I go and find the last and only copy for sale. And "for mature audiences only" apparently now means, "for 17-year-old Chinese boys who aren't too good at trying to look older than they are."

Did I mention Erin was still there? She watched Moulin Rouge on my iPod (wait, how'd that get on there?) while JFK and I watched Billy the Mime tell the joke in pantomime.

Seriously, that was even cooler than it sounds (pun totally intended).

At this point, Erin refused to vacate the premises, even at the request of the manager/owner, and so it was deemed necessary to throw her out. Literally. By the time we got to her house, it was 9:52 PM, and I was dangerously close to missing the new episode of Hustle. Even at my most reckless, there was no way I would have made it home in 8 minutes (Later when I did go home, I cut the trip to 14 minutes flat, running 2 red lights and scaring the hell out of 3 pedestrians. Speed limits are only half of what they should be anyways.)

Phone calls were made, smooth-talking was talked, and I introduced Erin to the magic that is Hustle:

Danny Blue: "What do you know about alarms?"
Ash Morgan: "I know about everything."
Danny Blue: "Oh, you know about everything, okay, if you know about everything, what's the capital of Luxembourg?"
Ash Morgan: "Luxembourg City."
Danny Blue: "...You're good."

Somehow, I also have to take dancing lessons now.

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Our collective resolution for 2006?

Get the world to drop the "Chinese" and have ours be the New Year.

Time for you know what

There really is no better time to blog than 12:43 AM. Holy crap, it's frozen. Seriously, my clock ain't moving. Hehe, I broke time, yayyyyyyyyyyyyyy... never mind, there it goes.

So, I've been pretty much incommunicado for the last 2.5 days, and by now the math teachers probably have a bounty on my head. Hey, guess what's not happening on Saturday at our high school? What, not an Invitational competition, with 1200 students or so expected to come? Oh no, no way.

I've panicked before. It's not new. It's more fun this time though. Panic, panic, panic. I should take up biting my fingernails. Or professional procrastination. Where you get paid to not do things.

Oh man. I need to stop. STOP.

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You will wake up and fall out of bed tomorrow moring. Don't land on anything sharp.
- Practical fortune cookies brought to you by, Cody "Look it's 12:48" Wang.

Addendum

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Taryn is great,
but I'll leave the end-rhyme to you.

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That's as close to an ode as you're ever going to get from me. :-)

And I thought this would be easy

Disregarding the last, super lame comment on my blog (Karan, are you serious? Why do I need gas?), I seem to have one and only one faithful reader.

And when I say faithful, I mean she likes to goad me into writing more and working less. And when I say working less, I mean not at all.

I'm sure you all know her quite well by now; her own xanga was quite famous in its time, and her current blog, though less profilic, is nonetheless well-appreciated by critics Internet-wide. Ok, so the only comment she's gotten in the past 2 or 3 months was from a spamming Forest Ranger's blog, but what the hey? We still love her.

... By the way, I wouldn't actually click that last link if I were you; we're fairly certain there will be worms and trojans and automatic porn-downloading viruses involved.

Perhaps she trolls my blog because we're kindred spirits. Perhaps she's awed by my wonderous command of the English language. Nah. She just likes to poke (yes, poke) fun at me, and there's nowhere better than here to load up on ammunition.

Good luck with that English presentation.

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T.D., I hope you appreciate this shout-out. It took me 45 minutes just to log in.

By Popular Demand

Now, context is a very important thing. Things that are fine when said in context become capital offenses in an inappropriate setting.

Example: the three little words "I love you." When uttered in the middle of a good laugh among best friends, it is a great way of showing affection. No one takes offense to it, and everyone loves each other all the more for having said it. However, if you so much as whisper these three little words on say, a first date... boy oh boy, are you in a world of hurt.

Why the little spiel? Well, popular means different things to different people. When used in the title of an otherwise unspectacular blog, "popular demand" really just means one person happened to mention that I hadn't blogged in a while.

Yay for low expectations and being easily influenced. Actually, it's more like, I felt flattered that at least someone noticed I hadn't blogged, and so I'm really doing this to sort of show off. Excuse me while I go polish some Mu Alpha Theta trophies too, by the way.

One thing I've been wondering for the past few weeks, and I don't know how to find out the answer to this either... would Princeton rescind my admission if I got straight B's second semester? I think if I got more than 2 C's, they probably would... but exactly how badly do I need to do before they say, "sorry kid, you ran out of gas." Boy, talk about a kick in the crotch, that doubles you over in pain so that you don't see the pile of dog shit that you're about to fall face first into as you collapse in pain, and when you do realize your face is covered in dog shit, you jump up and run blindly trying to find water or something, only you end up running across some busy intersection and instead of just falling face first in excrement, you also fall face first into a speeding semi-truck loaded with (oh the irony... wait for it, wait for it) horse manure.

It seems like that should be a Darwin award... only not.

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You will soon realize fortune cookies are meaningless.

Kicking off the New Year with an Old Tradition...

Haha, time to get back to work.

"Boy, I haven't done this in ages."
"Done what?"
"Blogged instead of doing IB homework."
"Man, you're right."
"Wicked."
"Shut up."

Chemistry IA, you say? Why the heck should I, when I've got so many better things to do? Sarcasm, you say? Damn well right sarcasm.

It's ok, I can afford it. I like having a positive balance in the emotional bank account from which I can draw upon. How did it get there? I'm not sure. It just sort of... materialized.

Don't you love it when things come together like that?

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Love. She's a funny word she is. I meant it though. As far as I know, I meant it.