Work kicked my ass today. When I wasn't in meetings, I was getting smacked around by Murphy and his damn laws. Then, I came home only to attend ANOTHER meeting for our building's Condo Board. My stomach is growling. My head is pounding. And my liver is threatening to kick my ass if I don't give him some Scotch soon. So in lieu of a real post, I offer you this smorgasbord of intellectual cow dung (categorized and titled for your easy viewing pleasure)...
IT DEPENDS. HOW MUCH DOES A VAMPIRE MAKE?
The Peanut wants to stick her finger up your nose. She also likes poking her fingers deep into your ears. And if she really likes you, she'll nuzzle up close and bite your neck. Either she's got a hugely successful career ahead of her as one of Manhattan's leading E.N.T. doctors or she's going to grow up and be a vampire.
VETERINARIAN SOUNDS GOOD TOO! HOW MUCH DO THEY MAKE?
The other night, BossLady and I watched with amazement and jaws agape as the Peanut chased the dog around, trying to stick her tiny finger up his butt! Never in my lifetime did I ever picture myself chasing an infant baby around my apartment and yelling, "NO, Honey! Please do NOT stick your fingers up the dog's anus!"
JUST IN CASE THERE WAS ANY DOUBT THAT (1) I'M GOING TO HELL, (2) MY DAUGHTER IS DESTINED FOR THERAPY, AND (3) MY UNRESOLVED ISSUES WITH GUILT AREN'T GOING AWAY SOON.
I have this terrible habit of saying things out loud solely for my own entertainment. It's like a fucking disease! I don't know how to describe it. It's some sort of combination of verbal diarrhea, oral masturbation and Tourettes Syndrome. For example, when my lovely wife was pregnant and approaching her due date, she was understandably large (I can say this now because she's lost all her pregnancy weight and now looks more beautiful than ever.) Anyway, one night when I was standing near her, she started walking backwards towards me ass-first. Without even thinking about it, I started yelling "Beep, Beep" (i.e. the sounds that garbage trucks make when they're backing their shit down the street). She was totally pissed off at me and I ended up being banished to the couch that night but I thought it was so funny that I think I chuckled myself to sleep.
Anyway, I bring this up because, recently, the Peanut has started running. When she's going at full-speed, she's a little unsteady so she tends to run with both hands straight out in front of her. The other day, we were out in public and Peanut started running over to me. I started calling her "Franken-Baby" and now I can't stop. Unfortunately, the nickname seems to have stuck. You think she's going to be affected by it? God, I'm such an asshole!
PANTERA, PINATA, PANERA...WHATEVER! JUST GIVE ME A DAMN JUMBO JACK WITH CHEESE!
There are many things I miss about living in Berkeley. My quality of life there was fantastic and I was surrounded by a truly great group of friends. Instead of going to class, I would often spend my days sailing in the Bay, digging for clams at Pt. Reyes, skiing in Tahoe, harvesting grapes in Napa or spending lazy afternoons hiking up in the hills. Life in the Bay Area was great and there are times when I miss that part of my life a lot. But Dude, you know what I really miss more than anything? Fucking Jack-in-the-Box. Is there a greater fast-food establishment known to mankind? You can keep your Chipotles, your Paneras, and your White Castles. Give me Jack-in-the-Box or give me death! BossLady and I were watching Larry Sanders the other night and they had a scene that took place at "The Crack." I swear to God that a small part of me got a little choked up just thinking about all the Jumbo Jacks and Sourdough Burgers I consumed there during my Cali years. I just checked their website and the closest one to downtown Tribeca is in Statesville, NC. According to Mapquest, that's 601.7 miles away and will take me 10 hours, 7 minutes to get there! Who's with me? Let's go!
I DIDN'T MEAN SIAMESE TWINS!
Memo to my honky friends (and White people everywhere)...You really should try to avoid saying things like, "Asian babies are SOOOO cute. I TOTALLY want one!" Another phrase to avoid is "Oh my God! She's so cute. She's like a little China doll!" Fuck you! How come when two Caucasian babies are standing side-by-side, nobody ever says, "Ooohh. Look! Twins!" But put two Asian babies within 10 yards of each other and all of sudden it's like they're Chang and Eng!
"YOU SHOW THAT TURD WHO'S THE BOSS, BUDDY!"
Usually, I save that line for when I'm peeing at a urinal in a public men's room and some anonymous stranger is grunting in a nearby stall (like I said, I'll say anything to amuse myself.) But lately, I've been using it as a mantra for the Peanut, who seems to be in some sort of bowel purgatory. This weekend, I don't think she pooped once! But for the past three days, she's been crapping about four times a day. It's amazing yet horrifying to watch. I guess it's safe to say that she's inherited her father's Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I feel so bad for her sometimes. Of all the things she could have inherited from me, why did it have to be my bowel irregularity?
I ADMIT THAT I USED TO WATCH 90210, PARTY OF FIVE, WONDER YEARS, DALLAS & DYNASTY. SO WHAT? I STILL PEE STANDING UP!
Many of you long-time readers know that I've watched my share of television over the years. I think I've demonstrated this to you before. But for those of you who didn't know this about me, I think I certainly outed myself to you in my last post. Some of you readers seemed especially surprised that I actually admitted to watching "girlie" shows like Party of Five and 90210 (or as RBrown says, "PO5 and 12.") Allow me to explain.
As the offspring of immigrant parents, everything I learned about American culture came from television. Of course, I was never allowed to watch television because my Asian parents were forcing me to do 5 hours of homework every night. But unbeknownst to my parents, I used my genetically-inherited math and science skills to fix an old portable television and hide it in my bedroom. So while they thought I was studying in private every night, I was really watching Falconcrest, The White Shadow and my beloved Mets. As a young child, I literally subscribed to the theory that if it wasn't worth watching, then they never would have allowed it to be on TV.
Ultimately, I ended up overdosing on television and become somewhat of a Luddite. Maybe it was because I discovered the joys of alcohol and women. Maybe it was because I had simply watched a lifetime's worth of television. But during my early 20's, I started boycotting television. I disconnected the cable and tossed my TV. Choosing instead to nurture my literary side, I started reading incessantly. Being an insomniac speed-reader, I must have averaged about 15-20 books per month.
But now? I'm a full-time working parent. And although I still read prodigiously, I find that there are times when there's nothing I'd rather do than zone out and watch TV. And you know what? I've got no regrets. I'm back, baby! And though I try and maintain standards when it comes to watching television, I'm not ashamed to say that I love the idiot box. And if TiVO were a woman, I'd probably sleep with her.
Anyway, bitches, I've got to run. "Laguna Beach" is about to start!