'Fuzzy Numbers', Asian Moment & Fantasy Football

Dear Watchdog groups,

If you've been patiently tuning in to my blog every day, you will have known that there weren't any posts for the past 2 days. It was not because I had scoped the location of Marisa Miller's whereabouts by hijacking a Google Earth satellite and was flying to meet her and confess my undying love for her. As mentioned on Thursday, Dad had disconnected the DSL so I had to resort to schlepping over the library to bum their WiFi. On Friday, I got lazy. On Saturday, I was sleeping. Ironically on Sunday, the traditional day of rest, I finally got to crackin' on the keys (ie, typing on the keyboard).

But I decided to fudge the dates because I'm obsessive compulsive about trying to have a post on each date, even if it's not entirely true. Can a person be both OCD and lazy? Is that somewhat of an oxymoron? Whatever. Mission Accomplished!

[imagine a pic of me making the 'V' for victory sign with both hands]

I'm finally back at my apartment after another epic 4.5 hour drive where I nearly died a couple of times by not having a ready source of caffeine. I thought I had weaned myself off from the energy drinks, but I'll definitely have to buy some before I become another cross on I-45. It will read 'drink Monster Lo-Carb energy drink so you don't fall asleep at the wheel and die, and make sure you don't combine it with vodka even though it's bound to be loads of fun.'

--

At around milemarker 140 and 210 on I-45, there are rest areas. For the interstate highway uninitiated, rest areas are public places where truckers have clean places to fellate each other. That's why there's a separate area for 'trucks.' I'm kidding, but I would not be surprised if my educated guess is really true. Rest areas have relatively clean restrooms and some vending machines. And you don't feel awkward for using the facilities and not buying anything (like you would at a gas station). There are also cameras posted nearly everywhere, even if they may or may not be connected to anything.

After a couple of trips to and fro on I-45, I had noticed 'WiFi available' signs on the sliding glass doors of the rest stops; Texas is not as backwards as Californians and New Yorkers may think, even though it may have produced the 'Dubya.' I had not connected to the 'outside world' since Thursday, and I was fiending to check my email and the latest news on the Tiger Woods's scandal (not really). So after using the facilities at milemarker 140, I went out to my car, calmly took out my netbook (the ever sexy ASUS 1101ha) and pressed the power button.

A minute later, I checked the WiFi signal only to find a single hotspot with 1 bar. In my intuitive Asian computer wisdom (we're born with kung fu skills and the skills to fix your home computer), I know that a single bar is pretty much a [male member]-tease. It's like going to a strip club--you know that the WiFi is within reach, but you can't touch or do anything about it. Then I had an Asian moment: I really really needed to check something (if Marisa replied to my email), so I balanced my netbook in my left hand and opened the door and started walking to the building, hoping that I would get more bars.

The metaphoric bouncer kept me from getting closer to the stripper; I got no more bars. I just looked like an idiot. An Asian guy walking around with a laptop. How common.

In all reality, it's probably uncommon since the majority of Asian males (excluding newcomers) probably have smartphones with internet service.

What was so important that I had to risk looking like an idiot? Fantasy Football. It separates the men from the boys, because boys are too busy playing actual sports. And my kicker was injured and I didn't have a chance to replace him, so if I lose by 10ish points, I will be disgusted.