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So here I am in Akron, Ohio. Home of the...uh...people who live in Akron, Ohio. I've been here for the past few days working on yet another project. Those of you who know about my disdain for travelling could probably guess how much I'd rather be back in LA right now...regardless of what a toilet it is. Well, my punishment for such a negative attitude has been this job. On Sunday, we leave Ohio for TN. I'll be in Gatlinburg, TN for a week and then I'll finally be back home. After a week, I'll be heading back to TN but this time to the Knoxville area. And before all's said and done, I will have gone to Virginia, Texas, Arkansas & Las Vegas as well. Unless I get canned for doing something stupid like not showing up to the airport when we have to leave for TN again. And why do I spell out the names of the other states and not TN? Because I don't know how to spell Tene...no, Tenne...no...TN! DAMMIT!!! If only life had a fast forward button. Oh well, might as well try to enjoy this as long as I'm doing it. How's that for keeping positive? | | |
| goodbye, tak kaneshiro. you are a decent friend and a homo. | | |
| TUBA!
For the past couple months, workers of the Mexican persuasion have been building a new rooftop on our building. They arrive early in the morning and immediately crank up their music from one of the 3 million spanish speaking radio stations here in LA. Throughout the late morning and into the early afternoon, they bang away with their hammers and drag heavy planks of wood around while their boombox continues to belt out la musica de espanol on a volume so high the speakers buzz. Then around 1 o'clock, they break for lunch so the banging and dragging noises stop for an hour or so...but God Bless them, they kindly leave that music on maximum for all of us residents to enjoy. Oh yeah, and the best part is they lock the roof access door just to make damn sure nobody can go up there and turn it off. Then they finish out the rest of the afternoon and early evening hitting stuff with hammers and dragging dead trees around until finally...FINALLY they go home and turn off their boombox only to start over again the next day. So these guys work hard under the hot sun and probably get paid poorly...which is why I'm totally cool with the loud music and whatnot. Music soothes the soul, makes the day go by a little faster. But son of a bitch, why is the TUBA such a huge part of traditional Latin music?!!! The singing? Good. The language? Sexy. The guitars and the sproingy instrument the fat Italian waiter plays during the romantic Spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp? Intriguing. The occasional, random yelps from the workers? "AYE-YAH-YAH-YAH-YAH!" <---(note: I'm not being racist or poking fun, they really do this) Cool. But that TUBA. That annoying, ceiling-buzzing, eardrum-rattling TUBA. I FUCKING HATE THE TUBA. | | |
| AGAIN.
Yeah, yeah, yeah...this is the same one that was on my Friendster profile. I just wanted to archive it because it reminds me of how hectic last summer was right before I got married. So here it is...AGAIN:
I hate traveling. Why do people like traveling so much? I have no interest in what other cities or countries look like AT ALL. I even hate packing because that means I'm about to travel somewhere. Before I got married, God & his kid Jesus required that I go on a weekend retreat for engaged couples down in Tustin, CA. Only an hour away, I figured. Not so bad. Of course forgetting to pack underwear turned "Not so bad." into "Shit. Fuck. Shit."
There I was, in a room smaller than a closet with some white dude from Texas who farted so loud in his sleep that I didn't know whether to laugh or...okay, I laughed. But I digress...Mr. Texas probably thought it was weird that I always turned off the lights before taking my pants off. Mr. Texas probably thought it was even more weird that a 29-year-old still wore tighty whities. I can only imagine what he told his family when he went back home, "Hey, y'all...My roommate was one of dem yeller fellas and they don't give a horse's ass about personal hygiene and they all wear man-panties."
WELL I'VE GOT SOME NEWS FOR YOU, MR. TEXAS! That was an isolated incident. Don't let my careless mistake misrepresent an entire race. All the Asian gentlemen I know wear boxers and change into fresh ones every single day. Maybe if you left Texas once in a while and educated your pea-sized brain about different people and cultures, your narrow mind could widen and you'd see the light................................shit. Touche, Jim Lee. Touche. | | |
| STILL SEEING YELLOW.
I had a good run on the treadmill today. Ran for a solid 20 minutes. I went ahead and skipped the weight-lifting portion of my workout because who needs muscles when you can run away from a fight at a brisk pace for 20 minutes straight? Unless of course the person who's trying to kick your balls can run at a brisk pace for 21 minutes straight AND can bench 250. Shit...Maybe I should reread that Sun Tzu book.
After I left the gym, I decided to pick up some malt ball crunch ice cream from the Rite Aid next door. If you're thinking that only an idiot would eat ice cream immediately after a workout...you're absolutely right. I also picked up a canister of White Cheddar Pringles. Shut up.
The cashier line I was standing in already had three people waiting. So instead of parking myself right behind the third person and blocking the space between the register and the aisles like a DICK, I decided to stand a couple feet back. Of course this is LA so a man with a basket full of crap comes out of nowhere and stands right between the third person in line and me. I'm usually not a confrontational guy but this time I had to say something. I got up close behind him and said, "Excuse me, sir, but I was already standing in line." He turned around and OH MY GOD...if Larry David and Yoda fucked, this freak is what would've popped out of Yoda's mint green vagina. I figure Yoda must have both sets of genitalia. I mean, he IS a Jedi Master...So then this 50-some-odd-year-old pappy says, "Well, I didn't see you there." and simply turns his head to ignore me.
At this point, I'll present this story to you in dialogue form:
JIM: Well, whether you saw me or not, I was standing in this line before you.
YODA DAVID: Look, I'm in no condition to argue with you.
JIM: Why is that?
YODA DAVID: Because I have a medical condition.
JIM: Just because you have a medical condition it doesn't mean you can cut in front of people whenever you want.
YODA DAVID: There was a time I could fight you. I am trained in the martial arts but that won't do me any good at this point, now will it.
Okay...I'll cut it right here. WHY DID HE HAVE TO BRING UP MARTIAL ARTS? Why couldn't he just say something like, "I'd kick your ass you little punk but you're lucky I have a medical condition"?! Is it because I'm "oriental"?!! Is it because I resemble Bruce, Jackie and Jet so I must know kung-fu as well?!! I guess no matter how far we've come in this country (supposedly), we're still slant-eyed, noodle-slurping, dog-eating, ninja assassins in the eyes of many Caucasian people. Or maybe he really was a black belt in his prime and I'm just being overly sensitive.
He eventually revealed that he had open heart surgery just a few months ago...and I was empathetic so he suddenly took a liking to me. In fact, he apologized and insisted that I go ahead of him in line. After I finished paying, we exchanged pleasantries and went about our separate ways.
Yeah, that's right...while holding a box of ice cream and a can of chips, I managed to get into a fight with an ugly grandpa who just had heart surgery and he apologized to me AND insisted that I go ahead of him in line at some shithole convenience store. Now I guess I can skip the treadmill along with the weights. Pathetic, Jim Lee. Simply pathetic. | | |
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