As you can tell, tenderized meat is pretty dormant now days. I am blogging over at a few places now. I have a blog about my life in my saab. I am also tumbling over at Tumblr as Greatfulbread. Hope to be posting here again soon.
As I sit here, on this wonderful Valentine’s Day holiday; watching dozens of text messages bombard my phone like that satellite that is going to bombard this very earth , or like the bullets that whizzed by a college in Illinois (they made ‘illa’ noise. is it to soon for that joke?) Today, a few questions arose in my head.
1. Who actually reads these?
They are never useful (unlike my Barack Obama election text updates). It’s always a retarded joke or picture or some attempt of someone to be clever that got passed through a bunch of immature idiots like a fucked up version of ‘The Telephone Game’.
I thought I was through the rough patch. I thought I could finally watch TV in peace. But alas, Valentines Day and all its estrogen themed nausea foiled my plans. You see, there was a veritable onslaught of those jewelry commercials leading up to Christmas and it was starting to drive me a little batty.
Of course, I could have just turned the TV off and done something productive instead…but I digress.
And then for a while after Christmas, it was safe to watch TV whilst eating my baked potato dinner again.
But now, they’re back. In full force. Kay, Jared, Zales…they’re all back and just as annoying. Just with a V-Day coating. Which brings me to this simple question? Why are women stupid? Or maybe I should be asking, how bloomin’ stupid are the men who get suckered into purchasing these shiny death rocks? Real stupid. Asked and answered.
The other night I was with a group of friends at a martini lounge and saw what is know as the phenomenon “Mutton Dressed as Lamb”. This is basically when an older woman tries to get away dressing like she’s in her twenties. I want to clarify that older meaning at least 40. This one woman looked like a Pro and I don’t mean an athlete. She had a short black leather skirt and a top way too small. Small, meaning I see bread rolls. Another woman who had to be at least 45 came in wearing some lingerie top from Frederick’s. Her fake 12 pound, rock hard, bowling ball breasts were stretching the very weak fabric containing them. Her hair was so chemically damaged it looked like a witch’s broom. Her skin was so tanned by the sun that it looked like leather from your grandpa’s wallet. On top of all that, when she turned around she exposed her shoulders and back that was so tattooed it resembled a mural of some kind.
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Being an Asian guy married to a Caucasian girl I would have to say is like any other relationship people go through, but with some obstacles. Some might be cultural, but as long as both partners have an open mind then it should be no problem. Of course, being in an interracial relationship takes an open mind to begin with. I would have to say the main obstacle that I had to get used to would be the stares and glares that I see in the corner of my eye as my wife and I walked through crowded shopping malls or any other outside venue.
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