Dear apologia fans,
An apology and an apologia are not the same things. Well, they're quite similar except 'apology' is generally taken to mean that you're sorry. But according to Merriam-Webster, it also means (definition 1a) 'a formal justification.'
So here's my not-so-formal apology for my absence from my blog. I was in paradise (I know the Spanish word for 'paradise' is 'paraiso' and not 'paradiso', but doesn't 'paradiso' sound so much better?) Besides, February is a short month!
What is paradiso, pray tell? The cool sea foam of the French Riviera? The hot winter days in Espana? The dry heat of the Aussie summer? The detestable 'food' of Londoners? Sorry, I don't kiss-and-tell. Not right away at least--give me some time, okay?
So here's my week in review, which is naturally a backpost.
Tue, Feb 9 - Please, please tell me now...
A rundown of this particular blog's features. It's very dreadfully plain right now, but as I get more famous (in my delusions), I might hire on a web-designer. It will be my part to get us out of this recession.
If you want to subscribe to liketheletterg, just enter your email into the first box on the right hand side and follow the directions in the confirmation email that will be sent to you. I don't know who is subscribed to my blog, so I won't be spamming anyone.
Wed, Feb 10 - Are Phone Holsters Douche-y?
After a whopping one response to this question (which, as it turns out, is a very large sample size*), I have come to believe that everyone in the world thinks that phone holsters are not douche-y! In actuality, I've come to realize that it's how you wear it; when you feel secure about it, it's actually quite nice.
Is the Razr so thick that it couldn't fit in your pockets?
Thu, Feb 11 - The Rotation Files, Pt. 1
So I got a lot of heat from my friend about this post, accusing the post of being sexist and what-not. Surprisingly it was on this entry and not some of my (in my opinion) more offensive ones. But it is what it is. I'll write with a cleaner, more-PC prose next time, okay eggs?
In a way, if I had done the residency route and became a preceptor myself, this is how I'd like my interns to act.
Fri, Feb 12 - Dry Skin, Expensive Salt, and Evy from Israel
A reflective post on my transformation of self and self-image, tempered with some humor from a failed pick-up attempt of the cute sales girl at the mall.
Evy gets hit on innumerable times every day and has developed a smooth sidestep, like a Spanish matador
Sat, Feb 13 - DacBiet
The trick to using a thesaurus to elevate the vocabulary in your writing without being caught is that you have to be selective, hence the lone fancy word sobriquet (found after a google search for 'nickname synonym'). I'm like Rasheed Wallace when he saves his post moves for the post-season ('I told my buddy to look at it like a kung fu teacher. I might teach you the lotus and I might teach you the tiger, but I'm not going to teach you the crane, because the crane can beat both of them')
In Vietnamese, it means ‘bright mind’, which is a bit of a presumptuous name to call a kid, especially when you’re not sure if he will turn out to be all that smart.
Three weeks in paradise ensues. Then the sad return to normalcy :(
Sun, Mar 7 - Sanofi Aventis's RockBand Title
I apologize to all the lawyers for using a whole bunch of trademarks/copyrights/sue-able infringements. All names are properties of their respective owners, etc. Have some fun, will you? Don't take my Gucci and Prada away from me! I'd absolutely die a non-fabulous death!
Sometimes you should keep your random thoughts to yourself.
--
Random thoughts/occurrences of the past few weeks
My Droid phone has protested my attempt at photography by crashing after I try to take a picture. Am I the only Asian without a functioning camera? I wonder when they'll revoke my Asian card...
I spent half a day searching for a mythical D&G wallet. On my side-quest of the RPG of my life, I visited the Galleria, the Shops at Willowbend, and finally NorthPark. None had the Dolce&Gabbana boutique I was searching for and none had my bi-fold with the interior money clip. And none of the men working at Saks/Neimans seemed straight.
And I won't link you to the wallet, because I want to be the only one to have it! It is what is called a Veblen good.
I've quit trying to reread all my posts and editing out grammatical/spelling errors. For a blog with minimal revisions before/after posting, I think I do fairly well. My diseased writing style, unfortunately, is incurable.
Related to the last 'paragraph', is an article in the Wall Street Journal I came across while cruising the stupid stories on Yahoo's homepage. A non-health professional (I'm assuming) gets it surprisingly correct. MRSA isn't really as bad as people think. There are worse things to be infected with.
My day and night reversions are happening much more smoothly now. I do get a little disoriented when I wake up, as I never know whether to expect the sun or the moon to alight my eyes.
I've been trying to find a few uninterrupted days to read Tender is the Night, but have been unsuccessful. F Scott Fitzgerald writes beautifully, and that's not just my fawning over him because Gatsby is 2nd on the top 100 novels of the 20th century. I can point out things about his writing style that I like (such as it has just the right amount of flourish).
I'm starting to pay attention to footwear. There's a popular notion that the first thing a woman notices about a man is his shoes. If it's true, I got a few pairs of eye candy.
Though this will be posted under 'Monday, Mar 8', it is actually Wednesday morning. And since I said that bit about how my day/night reversions are happening more smoothly, I've jinxed myself into somnolence.
And so after 2 hours of 'work', I think it is nigh** time for a nap.
--
*kidding
**not a typo
Showing posts with label g-Style TOC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label g-Style TOC. Show all posts
Monday, March 8
Monday, February 8
Week of Repressed Frustration
Dear g-Style table of contents lovers,
More on the title in a bit. Without little ado, here are the posts from this past week in review:
Tue, Feb 2 - The Writing Bit
An update on my memoirs. It hasn't been going too terribly well, but hopefully the changes will help.
'But as a narcissist of the nth degree, I must insist that I should be the thing that matters most in a story of my own life.'
Wed, Feb 3 - The Wise Man
A bad joke opens an entry about a lesson from a wise man: always look for the hardware; don't assume that a girl is married.
'The elderly gentleman paid for his prescription and then let a coy grin slide to the left-most edge of his lips from the expertly hidden, sex-filled part of the brain that all males possess, no matter how old.'
Thu, Feb 4 - Tri, Try Harder
The blonde comes back, and what ensues is one of the most awkward interactions I've ever had with a woman.
'She continued her coy smile, as pretty girls are wont to do when they’re teasing you. She wasn’t really sorry.'
Fri, Feb 5 - Night at Ra, Pt. 1
Guys say some stupid things when they're wasted.
'You know I like that dark meat, right?'
Sat, Feb 6 - Brotherly Love Amongst Ourselves
A reflection on the relationship of the Winchester brothers of Supernatural and my relationship with my own brother.
'He is probably the coolest guy I know and became my role model when I lost faith in my father.'
Sun, Feb 7 - SPIDER: Would you like some fresh breh-ade?
A short re-release about Sam's Restaurant located in Fairfield, exit 197.
'Beans so soaked in butter that it's questionable whether the main ingredient is butter or beans.'
--
The Week in Review + random thoughts that are like American Idol rejects: good, but not quite good enough.
There is an understanding in the retail pharmacy sector that customers can hassle us all they want at the beginning of the week, but in return they give us some rest at the end of the week to recover. No dice. I'm still decompressing with my bottle of Tylenol (generic, of course) and Shiner Black. Hepatitis is overrated. Besides, I'm already yellow.
Pharmacies should be provided with caller ID with the option to label certain phone numbers with ‘troublemaker’. Pharmacists should also have the option to screen their calls.
A relief pharmacist commented on my style of wearing a hoodie over my dress shirt and tie: ‘It’s odd you have on a shirt with a nicely matched tie and then throw on that.’ I said I was going for the I-wear-a-dress-shirt-and-nicely-matched-tie-because-I-have-to look. I also cited that the manikins at ExpressMen seem to blend the preppy with the caszh* all the time. Of note, I thought about unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of my shirt (like at the club), but reconsidered since it would look a bit silly with a tie.
I had outdone myself that day with a blue shirt and green checked tie that had a hint of blue at the criss-cross junctions (that’s how it matched). If you were wondering why I didn’t objectify the relief pharmacist, it was because she broke out the ‘my husband’** routine within 5 minutes of meeting me.
The old lady in the apartment downstairs moved to a senior independent living center. She couldn’t stand the noise from the guys in the apartment adjacent to mine (they insist on making a raucous running up the stairs) and the poor insulation. She had complimented me a few months ago on my quietness (‘It’s like there’s hardly anyone living up there!’), so I felt obligated to tip-toe around in my apartment. But now that she’s gone, I’m free to break out a home theater system and get my groove on (in more ways than one).
The bank of one of my savings accounts charged a ‘statement printing fee’ of $10, which is more than I ever got from them in interest. Sneaky, spoony bards!
I couldn’t stop humming INXS’s Not Enough Time. There’s something classy and dirty about serenading a woman with a line like, I want to be inside you.
I kept on typing 01 instead of 02 for the month when filling prescriptions. I can’t believe it's February already! Time flies by when you’re not stressing over tests. I’m starting understand Ponce de Leon’s mad search for the Fountain of Youth.
Making Magic Mouthwash makes me feel like a bartender. Equal parts lidocaine, benadryl, and Maalox. Layer benadryl, then lidocaine, then Maalox in prescription bottle (you put the benadryl in first so that the lidocaine doesn’t stick to the bottom of the bottle). Shake well, label, and garnish with a sprig of mint and lemon peel.
Justin Bieber has probably gotten more action at 15 than most men will have in their lifetime. It’s pretty sad.
Conan O’Brien must be pretty confident in his manhood to wear the nickname ‘Coco’ proudly.
It’s awkward addressing people in their 20’s with the terms ‘sir’ or ‘m’am’. I still do it anyway to unnerve them.
I saw the first woman who I would label as a ‘plain Jane’: neither attractive nor ugly, neither petite nor overweight, neither pleasant nor rude--just wholly unremarkable. Her insurance card wouldn’t work = troublemaker.
Many comedians link subsequent jokes to a beginning one. I refuse to admit that I do anything as tacky as that technique. Don't you dare do CTRL+F for 'troublemaker'!
A woman in her 50s asked where the condoms were. I refrained from asking why since I didn’t want to know.
You know you’re in the boonies when you hear ‘Mr. En-guy-yen’, or ‘New-gen’, or ‘Nu-gent’, or ‘Na-goo-yen’. Hooked-on-phonics doesn’t work on ‘Nguyen’. If you don’t know how to pronounce it, ask.
The Game has some amazing stories. It would be awesome to meet some of the master PUAs and learn in-person.
Congrats to the Saints on their Super Bowl win. According to Wikipedia, you can tote around a plastic cup filled with your favorite beverage (sans absinthe) on the streets of New Orleans. Glass bottles are no bueno. I’m really looking forward to Bourbon Street in a few weeks. Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez.
This past week, I saw two women who did the black skirt with black, opaque stockings and black boot heels thing. I swooned. A co-worker caught me looking, but I wasn’t that embarrassed, surprisingly.
Lastly, I asked my dad when I was younger, ‘Why do women wear heels if they hurt so much and are so uncomfortable?’ He responded, ‘You’ll understand when you’re older.’ If I have sons, I’ll be sure to tell them the exact same thing.
--
*my way of shortening ‘casual’
**when women consciously (or subconsciously, but this is highly unlikely) mention their significant other for no identifiable reason but to say, ‘Don’t bother hitting on me. I’m taken.’ Like we can’t spot that huge (or sometimes miniscule, given this economy) rock on their finger.
More on the title in a bit. Without little ado, here are the posts from this past week in review:
Tue, Feb 2 - The Writing Bit
An update on my memoirs. It hasn't been going too terribly well, but hopefully the changes will help.
'But as a narcissist of the nth degree, I must insist that I should be the thing that matters most in a story of my own life.'
Wed, Feb 3 - The Wise Man
A bad joke opens an entry about a lesson from a wise man: always look for the hardware; don't assume that a girl is married.
'The elderly gentleman paid for his prescription and then let a coy grin slide to the left-most edge of his lips from the expertly hidden, sex-filled part of the brain that all males possess, no matter how old.'
Thu, Feb 4 - Tri, Try Harder
The blonde comes back, and what ensues is one of the most awkward interactions I've ever had with a woman.
'She continued her coy smile, as pretty girls are wont to do when they’re teasing you. She wasn’t really sorry.'
Fri, Feb 5 - Night at Ra, Pt. 1
Guys say some stupid things when they're wasted.
'You know I like that dark meat, right?'
Sat, Feb 6 - Brotherly Love Amongst Ourselves
A reflection on the relationship of the Winchester brothers of Supernatural and my relationship with my own brother.
'He is probably the coolest guy I know and became my role model when I lost faith in my father.'
Sun, Feb 7 - SPIDER: Would you like some fresh breh-ade?
A short re-release about Sam's Restaurant located in Fairfield, exit 197.
'Beans so soaked in butter that it's questionable whether the main ingredient is butter or beans.'
--
The Week in Review + random thoughts that are like American Idol rejects: good, but not quite good enough.
There is an understanding in the retail pharmacy sector that customers can hassle us all they want at the beginning of the week, but in return they give us some rest at the end of the week to recover. No dice. I'm still decompressing with my bottle of Tylenol (generic, of course) and Shiner Black. Hepatitis is overrated. Besides, I'm already yellow.
Pharmacies should be provided with caller ID with the option to label certain phone numbers with ‘troublemaker’. Pharmacists should also have the option to screen their calls.
A relief pharmacist commented on my style of wearing a hoodie over my dress shirt and tie: ‘It’s odd you have on a shirt with a nicely matched tie and then throw on that.’ I said I was going for the I-wear-a-dress-shirt-and-nicely-matched-tie-because-I-have-to look. I also cited that the manikins at ExpressMen seem to blend the preppy with the caszh* all the time. Of note, I thought about unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of my shirt (like at the club), but reconsidered since it would look a bit silly with a tie.
I had outdone myself that day with a blue shirt and green checked tie that had a hint of blue at the criss-cross junctions (that’s how it matched). If you were wondering why I didn’t objectify the relief pharmacist, it was because she broke out the ‘my husband’** routine within 5 minutes of meeting me.
The old lady in the apartment downstairs moved to a senior independent living center. She couldn’t stand the noise from the guys in the apartment adjacent to mine (they insist on making a raucous running up the stairs) and the poor insulation. She had complimented me a few months ago on my quietness (‘It’s like there’s hardly anyone living up there!’), so I felt obligated to tip-toe around in my apartment. But now that she’s gone, I’m free to break out a home theater system and get my groove on (in more ways than one).
The bank of one of my savings accounts charged a ‘statement printing fee’ of $10, which is more than I ever got from them in interest. Sneaky, spoony bards!
I couldn’t stop humming INXS’s Not Enough Time. There’s something classy and dirty about serenading a woman with a line like, I want to be inside you.
I kept on typing 01 instead of 02 for the month when filling prescriptions. I can’t believe it's February already! Time flies by when you’re not stressing over tests. I’m starting understand Ponce de Leon’s mad search for the Fountain of Youth.
Making Magic Mouthwash makes me feel like a bartender. Equal parts lidocaine, benadryl, and Maalox. Layer benadryl, then lidocaine, then Maalox in prescription bottle (you put the benadryl in first so that the lidocaine doesn’t stick to the bottom of the bottle). Shake well, label, and garnish with a sprig of mint and lemon peel.
Justin Bieber has probably gotten more action at 15 than most men will have in their lifetime. It’s pretty sad.
Conan O’Brien must be pretty confident in his manhood to wear the nickname ‘Coco’ proudly.
It’s awkward addressing people in their 20’s with the terms ‘sir’ or ‘m’am’. I still do it anyway to unnerve them.
I saw the first woman who I would label as a ‘plain Jane’: neither attractive nor ugly, neither petite nor overweight, neither pleasant nor rude--just wholly unremarkable. Her insurance card wouldn’t work = troublemaker.
Many comedians link subsequent jokes to a beginning one. I refuse to admit that I do anything as tacky as that technique. Don't you dare do CTRL+F for 'troublemaker'!
A woman in her 50s asked where the condoms were. I refrained from asking why since I didn’t want to know.
You know you’re in the boonies when you hear ‘Mr. En-guy-yen’, or ‘New-gen’, or ‘Nu-gent’, or ‘Na-goo-yen’. Hooked-on-phonics doesn’t work on ‘Nguyen’. If you don’t know how to pronounce it, ask.
The Game has some amazing stories. It would be awesome to meet some of the master PUAs and learn in-person.
Congrats to the Saints on their Super Bowl win. According to Wikipedia, you can tote around a plastic cup filled with your favorite beverage (sans absinthe) on the streets of New Orleans. Glass bottles are no bueno. I’m really looking forward to Bourbon Street in a few weeks. Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez.
This past week, I saw two women who did the black skirt with black, opaque stockings and black boot heels thing. I swooned. A co-worker caught me looking, but I wasn’t that embarrassed, surprisingly.
Lastly, I asked my dad when I was younger, ‘Why do women wear heels if they hurt so much and are so uncomfortable?’ He responded, ‘You’ll understand when you’re older.’ If I have sons, I’ll be sure to tell them the exact same thing.
--
*my way of shortening ‘casual’
**when women consciously (or subconsciously, but this is highly unlikely) mention their significant other for no identifiable reason but to say, ‘Don’t bother hitting on me. I’m taken.’ Like we can’t spot that huge (or sometimes miniscule, given this economy) rock on their finger.
Monday, February 1
This Week at the North Pole
g-Style Table of Contents
Tue, Jan 26 - Senior Rings
A discussion about the not-so-cool dying trend of guys with class rings. Also a defense of the superficial.
'I am simply stating that people develop preconceived notions because of a generalized perception of truth, which may or may not be ultimately true.'
Wed, Jan 27 - The Finger Snap
The celebration of an archaic yet still extant gesture amongst peeps of various ilk. Also included is a quote from Romeo et Juliet, but it isn't my favorite line: O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? (II, 2, 976)*.
'I haven’t grown to think that this is childish just yet, though I do try to keep my finger snaps private as much as possible.'
Thu, Jan 28 - Shopper at Walmart - m4w - 22
A missed connections (a la craigslist) stylized entry where I caught a girl do a stereotypical guy move.
"'I had passed you while going to electronics the first time and you looked at my face, and then you did the thing that most guys normally do, that is look down and check the package.'"
Fri, Jan 29 - Do You Know This Song?
An homage to my favorite group from the South: UGK. I was frustrated that I couldn't find one of their songs.
'There’s nothing like Pimp C’s nasty lyricism ('Take it off, chick, bend over, let me see it...') which are rapped country-style in tune to some bad-ass old-school beat.'
Sat, Jan 30 - I'sa Playa
I find the title of the track, but I start to realize that I am not entirely of the opinion of the rappers. Is it misogynistic to listen to misogynistic music?
'How can I be the man I want to be when I listen to music which are not of my values?'
A comparison of temperature control in the Northeast vs Down South. Also a brief exposition of my time in NYC.
'Apartments with central temperature start at 2 million, because the ones that cost 1 million are still 600 sq foot sh-tholes.'
--
Thoughts that didn't quite make the cut to be blog entries:
Welcome new readers! If you would kindly click the 'Follow' button you see to your right, you will very happily appease my ego, which has grown quite large over the years, hence the massive melon-sized head. If you wish, you can also have my somewhat daily blogs delivered to your email compliments of Feedburner, which you also see on the right hand side. It works; I tried it myself.
I woke up this morning, and the thermostat read 50! Not Celsius, but Fahrenheit, the temperature scale of the greatest country in the world. So what if nearly everyone else uses Celsius? They're just wrong, because as a rule, Americans are always right! Cue up Proud to be an American. Sorry, that's a bit of North Texas brainwashing for you.
I thought about using Calculus to calculate the rate of temperature change in my apartment, but realized it would be incredibly nerdy of me. I'm pretty sure it is possible to do so. If you're thinking about the numerous variables like the 1 millimeter thick insulation or the shoddy non-weather-proofed windows, then that would be very intelligent observations. My answer to that? Simply bundle all non-critical variables into a catchall 'C', for constant, assuming that all those variables are constant. The actual contribution of each variable doesn't matter; you're simply concerned about the effect of all the variables in relation to the temperature. Physics and Calculus are very beautiful, elegant, and paradoxical sciences: though they analyze some things in such minutiae, they're remarkable at ignoring a bunch of other things. I think I would have liked being an astrophysicist, since I enjoy talking about things that matter not a bit to the rest of society. I apologize for the headache.
I have such a crush (mostly platonic) for Colbie Caillat. I don't know, but I think I may be fallin for you... She reminds me of Sheryl Crow. The music video is a bit wrong as it would purport that supplication works. It doesn't (reference: 22 years of my life).
I've stylized my name to be the lowercase 'g'. So if you ever see a book signing event and see just a lowercase 'g', well then that would be moi (still working on my French in desperate hope of meeting Melanie Laurent).
The bits about my night out 2 weeks ago at Ra Sushi: those are en-route. I'm still working on them, because they're bound to be packed with pretty heady stuff, as deep and philosophical as I am (which is to say, not so much).
Darkness Consumes You. That is the title of my book about my entering into the PUA (pick-up artist) society after reading The Game by Neil Strauss. I'm starting to believe that the stuff works; I've already come up with some openers and routines which I will field test on my next break. Unfortunately, as I am a private person (when it comes to personal relationships), you won't hear anything about it. Darkness Consumes You won't sell, because the topic (the not-so-secret PUA society) is played out.
My Droid phone is draining all my free time. When I see it's green LED light flashing, I have no recourse but to satiate my curiosity, even though I know it's just another email from Buy.com, Overstock.com, or Amazon.com. The bundled Facebook app isn't helping either.
A friend from NYC tagged me as an MIA in her 6th grade class pic. The problem with that is I was still in Houston in 6th grade. It was a pleasant picture (because I wasn't in it) nonetheless, and a few of my acquaintances added me on FB. If you're reading this, Hello!
I've come to the realization that I'm a degenerate, but I'm proud of it. I've forgone video games and women and society and alcohol just to get to this point: a doctor (of pharmacy) at 22. I'm cashing in my chips and walking out of the casino while I still can. Maybe in a different life, things would be different, but as I can't travel between parallel universes, you're stuck with this version of me.
It is extraordinary how a week can fly by without a person doing anything productive. And it takes a a very smart person to realize that wasting time is a decidedly delightful choice. If you haven't done it, try sleeping for 16-24 hours straight, and you'll understand what I mean. The REM-ing is magical. (When you wake up after 8 hours or so, just visualize a hot summer afternoon in Madrid or a cool breezy dusk on the French Riviera, and fall gently back to sleep).
Did I mention Melanie Laurent? I think I have, but I'll talk about her again. She has officially supplanted Marisa Miller as the object of my idolatry. Oh if I could but tap into the French bastardry of my ancestry. Those blue eyes... Were that I never saw her face in Inglourious Basterds...
No need to roll your eyes or make a face of disgust at the last paragraph. As always, I am just kidding.
And finally, don't place glasses of water on the carpet when you can't find a coaster (or are too lazy to look for one). Otherwise, you might relive the wet carpet feeling you felt post-Hurricane Rita when the wind nearly blew your roof off. 'Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so.'**
--
*I forgot how to cite literature that isn't in NEJM or JAMA or Arch Intern Med. I'll relearn eventually.
**Douglas Adams
Monday, January 25
The Week in H-Town-dizzle
Table of Contents
Tue, Jan 19 – Blue Eyes
Blue eyes, the mesmerizing iridescence that makes me feel like Forrest Gump, pre-Jenny days (i.e. in leg braces). An exposition of the development of my weakness.
‘But alas, blue eyes are recessive, and unless I have some French blood in me from when France raped Vietnam in the mid-20 century (instead of cab-fare, they gave us French bread and pate), my kids are condemned to having earthy-colored eyes.’
Wed, Jan 20 – Cash, the Modern English Monarch
An airline stops taking cash for formerly included amenities. A review of the fine print on the American greenback.
‘So unfortunately, the airline is within its legal right to refuse to take your cold, hard cash in exchange for its similarly cold, hard pillow.’
Thu, Jan 21 – Heidi’s Boob-napping
Topics: Heidi Montag, Heidi’s new kids, TMZ, police discrimination, Texas > Cali, and a joke about Tiger Woods (he’s black after all!)
‘The Boss Man stands behind the cubicles spying over his minions and drinks out of the same thermos with what I hope are different straws each show’
Fri, Jan 22 – Punked! (TV Edition)
Mama puts my widescreen HD TV to shame.
‘The plastic film protecting the glass-like frame around the screen was still attached, and my antenna from the TV in my old room had miraculously migrated to the TV stand underneath the new member of our family. Traitor.’
Sat, Jan 23 – Hotdogs and Eggs
The emancipation from ground-up, unidentified pieces of ‘protein.’
‘It is ironic how home cooking means hotdogs and eggs while traditional Viet food can only be found at the local eatery.’
Sun, Jan 24 – SPIDER: Pool and Poker
My two dream careers which are even more far-fetched than my becoming a ‘writer.’
‘The side pocket ‘t*tty f*cked’ a couple of my balls, performed ‘rim jobs’ on a couple of others, and disappointingly ‘spit’ out a masterful bank [shot], but on the whole, the table was pretty accepting to my gentle, finesse-imbued touch.’
---
Unsubstantiated claims
This past week’s entries were spent recounting some of the tales from my last trip back to Houston. There are a couple stories about Ra Sushi on Westheimer inside the loop which will be released later this week.
The cold weather took a vacation in the tropics, and a week of 70 highs and 50 lows were quite welcome after a monstrous few weeks with near freezing temps. I also didn’t have to fuss with the gremlin-infested heater.
The electric bill was almost $100. Vaulted, cathedral-like ceilings = cool. Bill for resulting poor insulation = not cool.
I had been hung up on ‘Blue Eyes’ for a good week and a half until I had a ‘very friendly’ conversation with one of the regular customers in her early 30s. As the saying goes, there are plenty of fish (and cougars) in the sea.
My Citizen Eco-Drive watch (sub-$100) came in the mail. Eco-drive’s slogan is ‘Fueled by light, it never needs a battery.’ The Casio has been laid to rest, though the digital display will pulse away the time in the dark until its 10-year life expires. A post will follow in the coming weeks.
I assembled the nightstands that I had ordered through Overstock. They look a bit awkward flanking my temporary bed that rises just 4 inches from off the floor (perfect for the drunken stupors I no longer get). To do list: get a real bed. If you don’t buy it, they [females] won’t come [the alternate spelling has been tastefully expunged].
On my last day in Houston, I upgraded my dead Razr to the new Motorola Droid, the same one in the billboards with the ominous red eye staring out from the luminescent screen. I must say that it is a stunningly beautiful phone, and I like it much more than the iPhone. Handheld internet and GPS are a must. Review to come.
I figured out how to work and clean the vacuum, but like a typical 20-something bachelor, I didn’t put that knowledge to use.
In the boring, financial times, I rebalanced my 401k.
In deeper, philosophical times, I re-contemplated becoming a Catholic priest. Then I figured I was suffering from the grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side syndrome and subsequently spent my way out of my funk on Amazon.
Think of these 1-2 sentence updates as my tweets if I were ever to be sucked into the Twitter scourge. These updates are a nice way to remember what I was doing at a certain point in time. Diaries/Journals are surprisingly time-consuming.
I was depressed that there were absolutely zero comments on my backposts. Then I drank, and the feeling went away. Thank you MacAllan 12-year. Joking, but I am a little sad about the lack of love. The bottle of MacAllan, like the comment boxes, remains untouched.
I had a minor epiphany that the story of Narcissus would not have existed if people didn’t love him in the first place, despite the fact that he was an ass.
It’s the fundraising season of my local public radio station. I changed the station on my clock radio. These two events were entirely unrelated.
I wondered what percentage of people enjoyed what they did for a living. Then I looked at my pay stub, and I stopped complaining.
Ties are like nooses. Heels are like shackles. They both look good when done properly. Though women can pull off both, men who pull off both are generally frowned upon.
A pill-counting spatula makes a good letter opener. Actual letter openers don’t make good letter openers.
And finally, a friend once said to me, 'g, sometimes you can be a real blonde.' I understand that now, given the last 2 paragraphs of very random observations. Unlike my drinking water and cigarettes (if I smoked), I like my thoughts unfiltered.
Are you liking the table of contents or do you think it's a stupid idea and would rather have another post?
Tue, Jan 19 – Blue Eyes
Blue eyes, the mesmerizing iridescence that makes me feel like Forrest Gump, pre-Jenny days (i.e. in leg braces). An exposition of the development of my weakness.
‘But alas, blue eyes are recessive, and unless I have some French blood in me from when France raped Vietnam in the mid-20 century (instead of cab-fare, they gave us French bread and pate), my kids are condemned to having earthy-colored eyes.’
Wed, Jan 20 – Cash, the Modern English Monarch
An airline stops taking cash for formerly included amenities. A review of the fine print on the American greenback.
‘So unfortunately, the airline is within its legal right to refuse to take your cold, hard cash in exchange for its similarly cold, hard pillow.’
Thu, Jan 21 – Heidi’s Boob-napping
Topics: Heidi Montag, Heidi’s new kids, TMZ, police discrimination, Texas > Cali, and a joke about Tiger Woods (he’s black after all!)
‘The Boss Man stands behind the cubicles spying over his minions and drinks out of the same thermos with what I hope are different straws each show’
Fri, Jan 22 – Punked! (TV Edition)
Mama puts my widescreen HD TV to shame.
‘The plastic film protecting the glass-like frame around the screen was still attached, and my antenna from the TV in my old room had miraculously migrated to the TV stand underneath the new member of our family. Traitor.’
Sat, Jan 23 – Hotdogs and Eggs
The emancipation from ground-up, unidentified pieces of ‘protein.’
‘It is ironic how home cooking means hotdogs and eggs while traditional Viet food can only be found at the local eatery.’
Sun, Jan 24 – SPIDER: Pool and Poker
My two dream careers which are even more far-fetched than my becoming a ‘writer.’
‘The side pocket ‘t*tty f*cked’ a couple of my balls, performed ‘rim jobs’ on a couple of others, and disappointingly ‘spit’ out a masterful bank [shot], but on the whole, the table was pretty accepting to my gentle, finesse-imbued touch.’
---
Unsubstantiated claims
This past week’s entries were spent recounting some of the tales from my last trip back to Houston. There are a couple stories about Ra Sushi on Westheimer inside the loop which will be released later this week.
The cold weather took a vacation in the tropics, and a week of 70 highs and 50 lows were quite welcome after a monstrous few weeks with near freezing temps. I also didn’t have to fuss with the gremlin-infested heater.
The electric bill was almost $100. Vaulted, cathedral-like ceilings = cool. Bill for resulting poor insulation = not cool.
I had been hung up on ‘Blue Eyes’ for a good week and a half until I had a ‘very friendly’ conversation with one of the regular customers in her early 30s. As the saying goes, there are plenty of fish (and cougars) in the sea.
My Citizen Eco-Drive watch (sub-$100) came in the mail. Eco-drive’s slogan is ‘Fueled by light, it never needs a battery.’ The Casio has been laid to rest, though the digital display will pulse away the time in the dark until its 10-year life expires. A post will follow in the coming weeks.
I assembled the nightstands that I had ordered through Overstock. They look a bit awkward flanking my temporary bed that rises just 4 inches from off the floor (perfect for the drunken stupors I no longer get). To do list: get a real bed. If you don’t buy it, they [females] won’t come [the alternate spelling has been tastefully expunged].
On my last day in Houston, I upgraded my dead Razr to the new Motorola Droid, the same one in the billboards with the ominous red eye staring out from the luminescent screen. I must say that it is a stunningly beautiful phone, and I like it much more than the iPhone. Handheld internet and GPS are a must. Review to come.
I figured out how to work and clean the vacuum, but like a typical 20-something bachelor, I didn’t put that knowledge to use.
In the boring, financial times, I rebalanced my 401k.
In deeper, philosophical times, I re-contemplated becoming a Catholic priest. Then I figured I was suffering from the grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side syndrome and subsequently spent my way out of my funk on Amazon.
Think of these 1-2 sentence updates as my tweets if I were ever to be sucked into the Twitter scourge. These updates are a nice way to remember what I was doing at a certain point in time. Diaries/Journals are surprisingly time-consuming.
I was depressed that there were absolutely zero comments on my backposts. Then I drank, and the feeling went away. Thank you MacAllan 12-year. Joking, but I am a little sad about the lack of love. The bottle of MacAllan, like the comment boxes, remains untouched.
I had a minor epiphany that the story of Narcissus would not have existed if people didn’t love him in the first place, despite the fact that he was an ass.
It’s the fundraising season of my local public radio station. I changed the station on my clock radio. These two events were entirely unrelated.
I wondered what percentage of people enjoyed what they did for a living. Then I looked at my pay stub, and I stopped complaining.
Ties are like nooses. Heels are like shackles. They both look good when done properly. Though women can pull off both, men who pull off both are generally frowned upon.
A pill-counting spatula makes a good letter opener. Actual letter openers don’t make good letter openers.
And finally, a friend once said to me, 'g, sometimes you can be a real blonde.' I understand that now, given the last 2 paragraphs of very random observations. Unlike my drinking water and cigarettes (if I smoked), I like my thoughts unfiltered.
Are you liking the table of contents or do you think it's a stupid idea and would rather have another post?
Monday, January 18
Week in Review
As promised in the last post, this is the g-Style table of contents for the last week.
Tue, Jan 12 - Backposts, natch
Exploring the seedy underbelly of bastard words and how they come to defile the most pure and born-again virgin English Language. Fo shizzle, my nizzle.
Wed, Jan 13 - My Country Tis of Thee
A somewhat nostalgic look at the difficulties facing first generation Americans who have never been back to their home country. An essay by an American Born Viet (ABV not ABC). Included are mentions of the Tet Offensive and the Fall of Saigon, and (more importantly) a picture of pretty Viet girls in traditional ao dai attire (from Wikipedia, natch).
Thu, Jan 14 - Being Claude Speed
Combining light philosophy (the kind that doesn't want to make you gouge out your eyes), with the Matrix, and Grand Theft Auto III. 'It is oddly therapeutic to be so violent.'
Fri, Jan 15 - Rejection Notice
'It's always the pretty ones who reject you, while the dogs are sending unsolicited offers of credit.' American Express puts a hand in g's face.
Sat, Jan 16 - Going Postal
Irritation at poor delivery service, a new recipe for unquenchable ire. 'GTA III is missing postal workers. I just want to talk to them nicely... with a rocket launcher.'
Sun, Jan 17 - g-Style, the Weekly Blog-azine(TM)
A new way of writing and publishing blogs. 'It will be where I try to kiss the reflection in the water; hopefully I won't fall in and drown.'
--
Week in Review
Most of this past week has been spent in anxious desire of an iPod case which didn't show up until after I returned to Dallas. I had finally caught up with all the backposts since I hadn't published anything since Dec 21st, 2009. Though it is a lot to read, I hope you do manage to peruse through them if only for a couple of giggles.
I had discovered the satisfaction of blowing up cars and razing groups of pedestrians with a machine gun in the PS2 classic Grand Theft Auto III. Subsequently, my vision has worsened as well as my real-life driving skills.
There was a pretty girl who stopped by the pharmacy a week ago who was the inspiration for tomorrow's post. She had the prettiest eyes, the color of the Caribbean Sea, and her adorable frown (because she was sick) made me want to hold her in my arms even though what she had was probably contagious.
I returned to Houston to enjoy some R&R before the start of another hellish week. And I still haven't gotten a prescription for Xanax yet...
And Dallas finally warmed up a bit. The cold front has thankfully departed, and the heater is somewhat intact. Every fifth time it turned on, the air would blow instead of the heat because of some short circuit or something. It was annoying to say the least.
If you like what you're reading, please click on the follow button to your right. And if you have any comment, friendly or insulting, feel free to leave it. Growing up in the ghetto means that you learn to never take things (ie, critical comments) too seriously, because after all, you could be lying 6 feet deep.
So Follow and Comment. I exist because you are here. And because you see me and I see myself, I am no longer Invisible.
Tue, Jan 12 - Backposts, natch
Exploring the seedy underbelly of bastard words and how they come to defile the most pure and born-again virgin English Language. Fo shizzle, my nizzle.
Wed, Jan 13 - My Country Tis of Thee
A somewhat nostalgic look at the difficulties facing first generation Americans who have never been back to their home country. An essay by an American Born Viet (ABV not ABC). Included are mentions of the Tet Offensive and the Fall of Saigon, and (more importantly) a picture of pretty Viet girls in traditional ao dai attire (from Wikipedia, natch).
Thu, Jan 14 - Being Claude Speed
Combining light philosophy (the kind that doesn't want to make you gouge out your eyes), with the Matrix, and Grand Theft Auto III. 'It is oddly therapeutic to be so violent.'
Fri, Jan 15 - Rejection Notice
'It's always the pretty ones who reject you, while the dogs are sending unsolicited offers of credit.' American Express puts a hand in g's face.
Sat, Jan 16 - Going Postal
Irritation at poor delivery service, a new recipe for unquenchable ire. 'GTA III is missing postal workers. I just want to talk to them nicely... with a rocket launcher.'
Sun, Jan 17 - g-Style, the Weekly Blog-azine(TM)
A new way of writing and publishing blogs. 'It will be where I try to kiss the reflection in the water; hopefully I won't fall in and drown.'
--
Week in Review
Most of this past week has been spent in anxious desire of an iPod case which didn't show up until after I returned to Dallas. I had finally caught up with all the backposts since I hadn't published anything since Dec 21st, 2009. Though it is a lot to read, I hope you do manage to peruse through them if only for a couple of giggles.
I had discovered the satisfaction of blowing up cars and razing groups of pedestrians with a machine gun in the PS2 classic Grand Theft Auto III. Subsequently, my vision has worsened as well as my real-life driving skills.
There was a pretty girl who stopped by the pharmacy a week ago who was the inspiration for tomorrow's post. She had the prettiest eyes, the color of the Caribbean Sea, and her adorable frown (because she was sick) made me want to hold her in my arms even though what she had was probably contagious.
I returned to Houston to enjoy some R&R before the start of another hellish week. And I still haven't gotten a prescription for Xanax yet...
And Dallas finally warmed up a bit. The cold front has thankfully departed, and the heater is somewhat intact. Every fifth time it turned on, the air would blow instead of the heat because of some short circuit or something. It was annoying to say the least.
If you like what you're reading, please click on the follow button to your right. And if you have any comment, friendly or insulting, feel free to leave it. Growing up in the ghetto means that you learn to never take things (ie, critical comments) too seriously, because after all, you could be lying 6 feet deep.
So Follow and Comment. I exist because you are here. And because you see me and I see myself, I am no longer Invisible.
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