Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Looking for panda porn?
Well the Chinese government is... Wild panda porn, in fact. Or rather panda mating habits in the wild. This is almost as funny as showing pandas sex education tapes so they can learn how to mate.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
On language - &#(@^#%()!!!
I have a potty-mouth. I readily admit it. I keep it in check while I'm at work and in the presence of children. But, left without those restraints, well, I'm a New Yorker afterall... and I believe that it was Robin Williams who said that while in other parts of the world, f*ck is considered a curse, in New York, it's a comma. Genteel language is left for the upper crust (or those who believe they belong there) and the tight-assed of this world. There is so much more that can be expressed with the use of minimal words... as long as the words are properly chosen.
So, I always find it very interesting this obsession with "cleaning up the airwaves." In other parts of the world, foul language is abound on television and radio. It's really not taboo (the same can be said for nudity, but that's another post entirely). The problem is, the more taboo one makes something by saying "that's bad" or "you shouldn't use/hear that sort of language," the more fun it is to do, especially for kids. So the obsession with cleaning up foul language when it has always existed, seems to be a really silly concept.
My dad cursed like a sailor - he was briefly in the army, so perhaps he cursed like a solder? Anyway, it was always amusing when I was a kid to hear my dad go off on someone. The profanity that would come out of his mouth was made all the more amusing with the really thick Chinese accent. And pretty much nowadays, we can say whatever we want around him, as long as it's not f*ck. He actually thinks it's somewhat amusing when I curse - I still see him laugh sometimes.
I've tried to clean up my language over the years. It really hasn't worked. It doesn't suit my personality. I don't curse for the sake of cursing - there's no point to that. Usually, whatever comes out of my mouth comes in the context of the conversation or the emotion that I'm trying to express. And that's the whole point of language... isn't it?
So, I always find it very interesting this obsession with "cleaning up the airwaves." In other parts of the world, foul language is abound on television and radio. It's really not taboo (the same can be said for nudity, but that's another post entirely). The problem is, the more taboo one makes something by saying "that's bad" or "you shouldn't use/hear that sort of language," the more fun it is to do, especially for kids. So the obsession with cleaning up foul language when it has always existed, seems to be a really silly concept.
My dad cursed like a sailor - he was briefly in the army, so perhaps he cursed like a solder? Anyway, it was always amusing when I was a kid to hear my dad go off on someone. The profanity that would come out of his mouth was made all the more amusing with the really thick Chinese accent. And pretty much nowadays, we can say whatever we want around him, as long as it's not f*ck. He actually thinks it's somewhat amusing when I curse - I still see him laugh sometimes.
I've tried to clean up my language over the years. It really hasn't worked. It doesn't suit my personality. I don't curse for the sake of cursing - there's no point to that. Usually, whatever comes out of my mouth comes in the context of the conversation or the emotion that I'm trying to express. And that's the whole point of language... isn't it?
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Fugitive golf...
For a while now, I've been wanted to play a real round of golf. No driving or putting range, but on a real course. I got my chance this weekend - twice. I played with my dear brother (JK), sister-in-law (ALK) and sister-in-law-dad (BL) on Saturday, and it was a riot. Mostly because of how absolutely awful the latter two and I were. But there were some shining moments - BL sinking a par shot chipped out of the bunker, my making par on the most unexpected putt from the rough, lots and lots of shots onto the wrong fairway (making the day really hysterical, actually), etc. etc. etc... Great fun - I wanna do it again.
Well, speaking to BC on the phone on Sunday evening upon my return from NYC, he suggested that we go play on Monday (yesterday). Hey, two trips to the golf course in three days - sure, let's go for it. I've written previously that BC had tried to teach me a bit, tried to get my form up a bit. It obviously didn't translate on my first go at a round, so I hoped that with him there, I would get a little guidance.
Now, BC has told me time and time again that he is a bogey golfer - shoots 90 or so, lots of par, occasional birdie, lots of bogeys... and he warned me before we started that he had only played once this season, so not to expect anything really great. Bogey golfer my ass! Three over on the front 9 and par on what we finished of the back 9... yeah, bogey golfer - whatever. He was having a good round, and seemed surprised and happy about it. And I was there to learn, so the fact that he was doing well gave me confidence that BC wasn't talking out of his ass while giving me advice. I had a few good shots, made the green on a par 3 (woohoo!), had a few good chips, could not drive for shit, started okay on the front 9 and got progressively worse as the back 9 went on (I don't even want to know what I shot on that last par 5 we played). Meanwhile, BC was making monster drives, hitting greens, and made two birdies in a row on the back 9.
But by the 14th hole it was getting late. We were losing light, and were playing moonlight golf instead of twilight golf. Finish the hole, bring the cart back, go home content in a fun day. Well, as anyone can guess, nothing is ever that easy. When we rented the cart, the guy at the clubhouse said that we had to return the cart by sunset - 7:20. "Play until 7:20 and then come back," he said. We were out till, maybe, 7:35-7:40, so a little late, but not horribly. When we made our way back to the clubhouse, however, we found our path from the back 9 (which was across the road) blocked - by a locked gate. What the F*CK?! We weren't that late. Oh, well, let's try to find another exit. We drove around the back 9, thinking that maybe there was a way onto the road, or another path to the clubhouse, or whatever. No such luck. The path circled around by the end, and the only way out was this locked gate. Fine.
Unload the clubs, jump over the fence, leave the cart at the gate. Let's just get to the car and go home... er... um... we have a problem. OH F*CK! THE EXIT GATE IS LOCKED!! How the HELL are we supposed to get the car out?!?! Well, as the old saying goes - if you don't have a door, make one. The course was separated from the road by a wooden fence - each section was 4 boards nailed into 2 posts. We drove a bit away (probably not far enough, now that I think about it) from the parking area and chose our target. "Anyone coming?" "Nope, no cars." BC made a few good swings and kicks... and we had ourselves a way out. Pull the car into the road... and we try to fix the fence (only one of the boards really broke, and one was already broken). "Car coming..." Dodedodedo... back to work. Ah, screw it. We tried the best we could.
Once we got in the car and started driving away, we both started hysterical laughing. Oh, geez. Who the hell has ever heard of breaking an exiting - out of a golf course! It just seems so ridiculous! Well, I've always had a talent for getting myself into ridiculous situations... I have to be consistent, you know? I guess we're never going back there to play golf again!
Well, speaking to BC on the phone on Sunday evening upon my return from NYC, he suggested that we go play on Monday (yesterday). Hey, two trips to the golf course in three days - sure, let's go for it. I've written previously that BC had tried to teach me a bit, tried to get my form up a bit. It obviously didn't translate on my first go at a round, so I hoped that with him there, I would get a little guidance.
Now, BC has told me time and time again that he is a bogey golfer - shoots 90 or so, lots of par, occasional birdie, lots of bogeys... and he warned me before we started that he had only played once this season, so not to expect anything really great. Bogey golfer my ass! Three over on the front 9 and par on what we finished of the back 9... yeah, bogey golfer - whatever. He was having a good round, and seemed surprised and happy about it. And I was there to learn, so the fact that he was doing well gave me confidence that BC wasn't talking out of his ass while giving me advice. I had a few good shots, made the green on a par 3 (woohoo!), had a few good chips, could not drive for shit, started okay on the front 9 and got progressively worse as the back 9 went on (I don't even want to know what I shot on that last par 5 we played). Meanwhile, BC was making monster drives, hitting greens, and made two birdies in a row on the back 9.
But by the 14th hole it was getting late. We were losing light, and were playing moonlight golf instead of twilight golf. Finish the hole, bring the cart back, go home content in a fun day. Well, as anyone can guess, nothing is ever that easy. When we rented the cart, the guy at the clubhouse said that we had to return the cart by sunset - 7:20. "Play until 7:20 and then come back," he said. We were out till, maybe, 7:35-7:40, so a little late, but not horribly. When we made our way back to the clubhouse, however, we found our path from the back 9 (which was across the road) blocked - by a locked gate. What the F*CK?! We weren't that late. Oh, well, let's try to find another exit. We drove around the back 9, thinking that maybe there was a way onto the road, or another path to the clubhouse, or whatever. No such luck. The path circled around by the end, and the only way out was this locked gate. Fine.
Unload the clubs, jump over the fence, leave the cart at the gate. Let's just get to the car and go home... er... um... we have a problem. OH F*CK! THE EXIT GATE IS LOCKED!! How the HELL are we supposed to get the car out?!?! Well, as the old saying goes - if you don't have a door, make one. The course was separated from the road by a wooden fence - each section was 4 boards nailed into 2 posts. We drove a bit away (probably not far enough, now that I think about it) from the parking area and chose our target. "Anyone coming?" "Nope, no cars." BC made a few good swings and kicks... and we had ourselves a way out. Pull the car into the road... and we try to fix the fence (only one of the boards really broke, and one was already broken). "Car coming..." Dodedodedo... back to work. Ah, screw it. We tried the best we could.
Once we got in the car and started driving away, we both started hysterical laughing. Oh, geez. Who the hell has ever heard of breaking an exiting - out of a golf course! It just seems so ridiculous! Well, I've always had a talent for getting myself into ridiculous situations... I have to be consistent, you know? I guess we're never going back there to play golf again!
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Power between the legs, part II
It's been too long since my last post, darn it, and much has happened. We returned to the Bethesda Crab House the very next week after the last post with Felumpfus in tow, as she informed me that she had not yet sampled this year's crop of crabs! Well, obviously, that needed to be remedied. And we went (JS, Fel and I) and feasted till we were full, perhaps overfull, downing a pitcher of Sam Adams and much corn in addition to just under 3 dozen crabs... ahhhh. Needless to say, when we returned home, we all reveled in our respective food comas on the couch.
The mighty Thor has a new playmate - no, we did not get a new dog. But we did get new neighbors, one of whom is a darling 7 year old girl... 7 going on 30, who knocks on the door and very politely says, "If you want, you can let Thor come over for a little while. We can take him for a walk and stuff... of course, if you want." Cracks me up every time. She's going to be a politician someday, or she may just simply take over the world. When I speak to her, I forget that she's just 7. She's far more eloquent than many adults that I know.
The most exciting news, however, is that I had my motorcycle riders course over Labor Day weekend. Two days of classroom, two days on the range. It was awesome! It amazes me that in those two days, I learned to operate this fabulous 2 wheeled machine... Going from timidly letting the clutch out to get the bike to even move, to wanting to go faster and faster, changing gears and rolling the throttle. Yeah, sure, I didn't get the bike past 25 mph in 3rd gear. But I was doubtful that I would even learn to shift gears - in the beginning, every time I shifted, my bike would cut out, so I obviously had my doubts on whether I would ever get it. I did, however, get really adept at starting up my bike.
We were taught on old Honda Nighthawk 250s. These are 234cc pieces of crap, but it got the job done. It is impossible to find neutral in these bikes when you want to. But when you're trying to shift from 1st to 2nd or downshift from 2nd to 1st - oh yeah, you can find it then, just when you don't want it. I hit neutral a number of times when I thought I was shifting to 2nd. Let me tell you, it's not a nice surprise to roll on the throttle and literally go nowhere fast.
After two full days of learning, riding, swerving, leaning and quick breaking, we took our course test. I learned a couple of things about myself - I can't do a figure 8 in a 20 x 40 foot box and I apparently make a really funny face when I perform a quick break. I was nervous, since I had put my foot down a number of times in the figure 8 exercise, and really didn't know where else I would have lost points. But, I passed! And now I have a shiny certificate which I will take to the MVA (and sit for hours and hours) to get that fantastic little 'M' on my license.
What's really cool is that BC seems willing to let me ride his extra bike, once he gets it up and running. I had been jokingly asking/begging him since I signed up for my course, but really didn't think he would. So when I was speaking to him on Monday, all excited from passing my test, I was quite surprised and really happy when he brought it up. I am excited and exhilarated, and really can't wait to get back on a bike.
The mighty Thor has a new playmate - no, we did not get a new dog. But we did get new neighbors, one of whom is a darling 7 year old girl... 7 going on 30, who knocks on the door and very politely says, "If you want, you can let Thor come over for a little while. We can take him for a walk and stuff... of course, if you want." Cracks me up every time. She's going to be a politician someday, or she may just simply take over the world. When I speak to her, I forget that she's just 7. She's far more eloquent than many adults that I know.
The most exciting news, however, is that I had my motorcycle riders course over Labor Day weekend. Two days of classroom, two days on the range. It was awesome! It amazes me that in those two days, I learned to operate this fabulous 2 wheeled machine... Going from timidly letting the clutch out to get the bike to even move, to wanting to go faster and faster, changing gears and rolling the throttle. Yeah, sure, I didn't get the bike past 25 mph in 3rd gear. But I was doubtful that I would even learn to shift gears - in the beginning, every time I shifted, my bike would cut out, so I obviously had my doubts on whether I would ever get it. I did, however, get really adept at starting up my bike.
We were taught on old Honda Nighthawk 250s. These are 234cc pieces of crap, but it got the job done. It is impossible to find neutral in these bikes when you want to. But when you're trying to shift from 1st to 2nd or downshift from 2nd to 1st - oh yeah, you can find it then, just when you don't want it. I hit neutral a number of times when I thought I was shifting to 2nd. Let me tell you, it's not a nice surprise to roll on the throttle and literally go nowhere fast.
After two full days of learning, riding, swerving, leaning and quick breaking, we took our course test. I learned a couple of things about myself - I can't do a figure 8 in a 20 x 40 foot box and I apparently make a really funny face when I perform a quick break. I was nervous, since I had put my foot down a number of times in the figure 8 exercise, and really didn't know where else I would have lost points. But, I passed! And now I have a shiny certificate which I will take to the MVA (and sit for hours and hours) to get that fantastic little 'M' on my license.
What's really cool is that BC seems willing to let me ride his extra bike, once he gets it up and running. I had been jokingly asking/begging him since I signed up for my course, but really didn't think he would. So when I was speaking to him on Monday, all excited from passing my test, I was quite surprised and really happy when he brought it up. I am excited and exhilarated, and really can't wait to get back on a bike.
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