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I went to Vancouver on the eighteenth. Unfortunately (but then again, fortunately), my dad got us deluxe seats for Eva Air; with all the extra leg space, I was able to sleep, but jetlag hit extra hard once I got off the plane. I ended up drinking a lot of hotel coffee and watching a lot of late night South Park, Comedy Central, and Family Guy.

Fastforward a restless night, a crappy McDonald's breakfast, and a few showers. My friend Patricia drive from West Vancouver to Richmond (and got lost for about an hour), and brought me to North Mall. Fortunately for me, Patricia didn't make a scene when she helped me pick out clothes. Normally my mom does, though, because she can't seem to pick out anything without touching, picking up, and then criticizing all the clothes on display before telling me (no wait, ordering me) to try something on. For the first time in six years, I put on a pair of jeans. I still don't see what all the fuss is about, because jeans are heavy and they don't breathe.

Pat said I have to dress prep, so I have some sweaters now. Yay, white trash. No, but really, thanks for driving me all over the place Pat, you saved me from two days of would be sightseeing.

In a Roots store:

"Do you mind having 'Canada' on your shirt?"
"Not really."
"Is it going to get you beat up in New York?"
*quickly* "Probably."

Oh yeah, we also stopped by a Starbucks. Patricia works there, so, naturally, I assumed she was a coffee junkie. Oddly enough, she finds coffee revolting and only gets teas or juices from Starbucks. On yeah, and to prove my point about stupid people and lawyers, she told me that Starbucks had to serve hot drinks twenty degrees cooler because somebody sued Starbucks. Really, somebody go sue Microsoft for being too hot too, that should be profitable.

I also got the chance to visit the Vancouver aquarium. Upon seeing the salmon in the large tanks, Patricia said she once stated how tasty salmon were while visiting the Capilano salmon fishery. Consequently, a bunch of conservationists got pissed off and said "you shouldn't talk about animals that way!" (I agree, but I couldn't help but laugh). I guess that's why a few heads turned when I explained that sturgeon were "caviar fish." Fortunately, Patricia had gotten an ice cream cone by the time we visited the sea otters, so nobody talked about eating there. The otters drifted on top of the water belly side up and spent an awful lot of time grooming themselves. One rubbed both his paws on his forehead, as if confused...and then another otter came over and bit him (or her).

Let's see...I also went to Seattle. I visited the original Starbucks and was surprised it looked nothing like other Starbucks; it lacked that weird Starbucks icon. I also visited Pike Market, where my dad told me to go buy a crab. While I was handing the guy my money, I felt a fleck of ice against my neck. I blinked and heard a large plop(!) as a large salmon, the length of my arm, landed in the cashier's hands. Interesting...I almost got knocked out cold by a fish. Apparently, the guys at the fish market toss their fish from station to station, and the accuracy with which they do it still amazes me (we're talking salmon folks, not sardines). Maybe I'll sue them, too.

I am headed to University of Rochester tomorrow. Hopefully I will have some post about the hilarious stuff that will happen on orientation day.

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Goddamn, Carlos Mencia is a god. He is exactly what America, a country where people can sue McDonalds for being fattening, needs.

Here's why (Dee Dee Dee song):[Error: unknown template 'video']

Oh yeah, here's a bonus, because I've never really liked the idea of religion (Religious Royal Rumble).

Irony is...
Irony is...

...the fact that Buddhists and Christians have gods that seem to resemble certain ethnic people (Asians and Caucasians, respectively), when adherents of both religions will claim that their gods (or god) are/is divine

...the fact that certain members of our previous generation studied hard and learned the rules of spelling and grammar, became computer engineers, designed fabulous computers and computer programs, and then bore offspring that type bullshit like "coolios, lolz, IRL, 'sup."

...the fact that most people who spend time admiring and observing computers use their computers to "play games and stuff."

...the fact that most kids who like to say "Asian Pride" can't speak a second language.

...the fact that nowadays even nonpoliticians have to be "politically correct."

...the fact that creationists, who don't feel they need to back up their religion or faith with any proof, deem evolution a "flawed theory."

...the fact that cosmetic surgeons earn more money than surgeons who actually do important things with their degree.

...the fact that people who can't write will go about criticizing other people for their ugly handwriting.

...the fact that there are fat people who spend more time drinking diet coke than exercising.

...the fact that certain first generation Taiwanese people will discriminate second generation Taiwanese people more then white people discriminate black people.

...the fact that a lot of people who claim they're Taiwanese can barely speak Taiwanese...and speak Chinese instead.

...the fact that sarcasm doesn't work on people who are too stupid, when sarcasm is intended for their breed...

...the fact that authentic goods and counterfeit goods are manufactured in the same countries.

...the fact that smart people who succeed in surviving law school eventually help those who try to earn money from "cups that don't say 'hot' on them" or those who didn't realize just how fattening McDonald's actually is...

...the fact that the previous generation has engaged in many many rounds of actual sexual intercourse so that the resulting offspring could say "fuck" on the internet many times before actually achieving sexual maturity.

...the fact that the US is the only country to have ever used a nuclear weapon against civilians, but is also the country that is first to threaten other countries that it believes is attempting to build up nuclear arsenals.

...the fact that there is an online site (http://www.websense-media.co.il/has_200706/default.asp?gid=friend) that is trying to support the troops in Israel by giving them chocolates rather then direct financial aid (which could be used on medication up to a million times more effective than chocolate).

...the fact that people call it an "Adam's Apple" rather than an "Adam's fruit."

...the fact that people say "bullshit" when they step in dog doo.

The Underground Dictionary of NEHS Terms
Acetone (n.) 1) A substance intended for cleaning off pen marks from desk surfaces 2) a flammable solvent used for cubby barbeques 

Aluba (n.) The act of inserting a broomstick or other polelike object between one's legs...and then pulling or ramming forcefully upward. (see "super aluba")

Bunsen Burner (n.) A device commonly found in chemistry laboratories. The exact purpose of a bunsen burner is unknown, but we have discovered that it comes in handy when making smoke bombs or burning holes through lab coats.

Chalkboard Erasers (n.) (see projectile weapon)

Clean Up (n.) A designated twenty minute period from 3 PM to 3:20 PM. We're not quite sure why we get a twenty minute break near the end of the day. Perhaps we're supposed to look for missing janitors(?)

Cockroach (n.) A common household pest, an insect, that is, for some peculiar reason, to be found in great abundance in the 12A classroom.

College Applications (n.) (see high school drama, cutthroat, backstabbing, bedlam)

Discipline Monitor (n.) The most pointless post that can be possibly assigned to a student. (see vice president)

Dormie Elitism (n.) An ironic form of elitism that occurs in response to what is perceived to be "ABC elitism"; the tendency for dorm residing classmates to scorn all others because they believe everyone else to be "too arrogant."

Eckerling (n.) A short, weather worn, and bitter man that occupies a room in the guidance office. His purpose at NEHS is not quite clear. Experts have speculated that he is a good source of income for the local Starbucks.

Elephant Apple (n.) (see skunk, stink bomb, senior prank)

Gladiator (n.) A battle event involving broomsticks, tennis and/or badminton rackets, heavy textbooks, chalkboard erasers, chalk, waterbottles, and any number of objects commonly found in the classroom.

Hair Fetish (n.) (see Denise Lin)

Happy Hour (n.) 1) a period in which free beer is offered at bars 2) Amy Chen's unique war cry

Hazing (n.) Almost anything. Like reading this entry, even.

Hilife (n.)  The NEHS equivalent of Mecca.

Hockey Puck (n.) A flattened soft drink aluminum can.

Jang (Proper Noun). The proper way to spell my surname, you retards.

Plagarism (n.) The highest form of flattery a teacher can offer a student.


Slacking Off (n.) Liar. You're not slacking off.

Soccer Field (n.) A half barren, rarely tended to wasteland. (see bloody shins, scraped knees, bruises, mosquito heaven)

Sparknotes (n.) Divine intervention designed to foil teachers' plots to force students into reading entire novels.

Super Smash Brothers Melee (n.) An event held during breaktime, quiet time, morning quiet time, physics class, PE class...

Tetris (n.) The program on which half a TI's energy is wasted on.

Wooden Desks (n.) (see tofu)

jerry garciuh
This is my blacklist of people, places, things, ideas, fads (...the list goes on) that I think deserve some love.
None of this is going to be sensitive or politically correct. If you don't like it, you can sue me (or get a life, whichever's cheaper).

George W. Bush:
No, this has nothing to do with politics. I am not a tie-dye pot smoking hippie, but I don't think I need to be one in order to recognize a total idiot when I see one. Seriously, I think every hawk who screeched support for the war should stop taking steroids, because they're so pumped with an adrenaline rush that they've got their brains fucked up. "The Pentagon's got more testosterone in it than Mike Tyson's urine does." This I quote from a parody titled "Bushzilla." 
         Nobody in a sane state of mind should take George Bush's word for anything. He told America that there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, found out no such weapons existed in Iraq, and waved the whole "incident" away with some explanation. On the Richter Scale of fuckups, George Bush created a disaster that rivals that of the San Andreas fault. I can seriously imagine him saying "oops, I blew up your country."
        We shouldn't be surprised. This is the same man that choked on a pretzel, can't tell the difference between presidents and prime ministers, and repeatedly claimed that the war was NOT about oil. First off, the Iraq War is all about oil. Really, there are lots of countries out there with "suppressive terrorists" dangerous to democracy. Take North Korea for example. Kim Jong IL actually has nuclear weapons. Bush is doing nothing about a dictator who spends all his money on the development and research of nuclear weapons. On the other hand, Iraq, proven to have no such weapons, is now in state of deep shit. What does Iraq have that North Korea doesn't? Oil (duh). Secondly, George W. Bush is a man that even has trouble pronouncing the word nuclear. How the fuck can ANYONE expect him to know how to handle something he can't even pronounce?
       Stay home and don't hurt yourself, Bush. Help yourself to some pretzels.

Dick Cheney: Okay, I'm not surprised this guy supports the war in Iraq. I mean, come on, Cheney had no trouble shooting his own pal...he doesn't even KNOW the Iraqi people.

Chen Shui Bien: It seems that dumbass presidents are quite the fad nowadays. Several days before his second term, President Chen was the target of an attempted assassination...or so it seems. Here's what happened: the hitman missed Taiwan's chubby president. His bullet grazed President Chen's stomach AND Vice President Anette Lu's knee.
     Okay, you're pretty clever, President Chen. You pulled off an incredibly stupid bogus assassination attempt AND took into account the fact that the southern bumpkins of Taiwan are even dumber than you are. First of all, any idiot should be able to smell something fishy. You don't seat two VIPs (Very Idiotic Persons) together for very goddamn obvious reasons. They did anyway. The only way the President could've made an assassination more likely was to bend over and take his pants off. Secondly, that "mysterious bullet" seems a little too good to be true. Seriously, nobody should call this "assassin" a bad shot; it takes a goddamn lot of skill to graze someone's stomach AND then graze his neighbor's knee with a single bullet. Really folks, anybody who calls the assassination attempt a failure or an "accident" would call the Clinton incident an "accident" as well. Put two and two together, like any second grader can, and the attempt to garner sympathy to secure a reelection should be pretty obvious.
     I take it back. President Chen isn't dumb; he's actually a pretty clever guy. His supporters are.


Internet Newspeak:
I've been noticing that it's a fad to type hollow periods these days, especially ones surrounded by peculiar borders. What the hell am I talking about? It's this linguistic curiosity: "lol." Seriously folks, "lol" is NOT a fucking punctuation mark. If you've got the grammar of a retarded seven year old, then type WITHOUT punctuation marks...it's the less retarded, much healthier alternative to "lol." Nobody gives a damn if you're laughing out loud (or laughing lots) if you don't have a mike. "I flunked my English essay again..." No shit, Mr. LOL. 
And for you people obsessed with typing "...": if you have nothing to say, then shut the fuck up. Nobody'll miss you even if you don't talk, I promise.


Basketball shoes: Shoes named after people. A ridiculous marketing scheme...that actually works. People will actually pay more dough if their shoes are Iversons. Okay, for those of you who can't realize how stupid this is, lemme put this in terms of other sports. In soccer, people would be saying "hey, check out my Ronaldos." In golf: "hey caddy, hand me my nine tiger." In tennis: "hey, check out my Federers." Sound stupid enough? It sounds pretty stupid in basketball, too.

Soccer: I know some people cried when Germany lost. I know some nonGerman people who cried when Germany lost.
...seriously, get a life. It's not like you bet any money (if you did, this DOESN'T apply to you).


Patriotism: There are several things I can't stand: chives, seafood...and patriots. Patrotic zeal registers in my dictionary as hot headed stupidity. Anybody who screams "[insert country name] pride!" should be forced to pay extra tax or serve extra army time to back up their claims.

Progress, Improvement...and Technology

This is a story about a technologically advanced society, a cat in need, and Mr. Cold and Sarcastic.

Mr. Cold and Sarcastic was not a nice man. Few people liked to talk to him, because most felt that they could not understand him. Most thought that Mr. Cold and Sarcastic was hypercritical (for some idiots, hypocritical, even). After all, sometimes we need to forgive excusable mistakes. At some point in all of our lives, we've asked our friends "what are you doing here" (even in places like tennis courts or supermarkets), or made the entirely acceptable mistake of asking entirely retarded questions.

Mr. Cold and Sarcastic, why are you so sarcastic?

A cat in need was lying between two roads. Someone had torn off the flesh and skin off the cat's hindleg, leaving the cat a wretched, chickenleg resembling appendage. Nobody stopped to help the cat, for it was rush hour, and we all know that rush hour is a time of much more important things. For one, rush hour is a time when everyone is too busy to help an injured cat. Rush hour ir a time when everyone is too busy to make a short call to the police or fire department. Rush hour is a time when everyone is too busy to drop the traffic police a short notice.

After all, it was a technologically advanced society. Technologically advanced societies have much better things to do.

Mr. Cold and Sarcastic, the villan of the technologically advanced society, spotted a cat in need. He carefully crossed the road and observed the cat. The wound was dry, which indicated that the cat had been in need for quite some time. Mr. Cold and Sarcastic tried to catch the cat, but the cat hissed angrily and darted away. Mr. Cold and Sarcastic was worried, worried that some citizen of the technologically advanced society would run over the cat with a technologically advanced vehicle.

Mr. Cold and Sarcastic did not own a car, and tried to ask people for help. With his whimsical logic, he deduced that the cat had to be sent to a veternarian immediately. Few technologically advanced vehicles stopped, and the few that did looked at Mr. Cold and Sarcastic like he was an idiot. Frantically, Mr. Cold and Sarcastic asked two teenagers, who happened to be chatting on a sidewalk nearby, for help.

The first teenager looked up from his camera magazine and looked at Mr. Cold and Sarcastic the same way people looked at outlandish bumpkins or space aliens. The second teenager asked what it was Mr. Cold and Sarcastic required help for, and when he discovered it was a cat, he replied with an "oookay..." and went back to reading his magazine.

"Why won't you help?" asked Mr. Cold and Sarcastic, now exasperated. "It's a living thing!"

"Cats and dogs are out of style," said the first teenager. "They never upgrade them. Here, look at this T-707."

"...What? What's that?"

"A camera."

"Are you fucking retarded? There is a CAT with a BLOODY leg in the middle of the bloody fucking road and you're telling me about some bloody fucking CAMERA?"

"Hey, dude, no need to get all critical. I'm just saying, technology is amazing! Look what techonology can do. I mean, look at the beauty, the finesse, the art that steel, wire, and fiberglass can form."

"Okay, not to burst your bubble or anything, but a single cell in that cat is a million times more intricate, more complicated, and more fantastic than any technology known to mankind."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to ask you to help me, fucking nerdwad."

"Nah, I don't want to get my hands dirty. Besides, it's dangerous."

Just then, the cat made it safely on to the sidewalk and Mr. Cold and Sarcastic promptly grabbed the cat in his coat. He thought about asking the two techie nerds for a quick car ride, but he decided it was a futile request. He jogged several blocks to the nearest veternarian and practically yelled out "help! help!" The vet arranged for disinfection and several days stay in an oxygenated chamber.

This is the aftermath of a cat in need.

The cat was alive, but alas...the cat was dead. The cat was dead to a technologically advanced society, a society in which those who contribute to technological advancement are as cold and unfeeling as the innovations they help crank out daily.

"Mr. Cold and Sarcastic," asked the cat, "do you think anybody else would've helped me?" 

"No," said Mr. Cold and Sarcastic.

"Why do they call you what they do?"

Mr. Cold and Sarcastic smiled warmly, and the cat understood. With that, the cat fell silent, and spoke no more.

Engraved on the cat's tombstone: "Life is beautiful." This is why most citizens of a technologically advanced society should get a life.

(no subject)
This morning, the kitten died.

When my mother and I were trying to change the gauze around his leg, he kept struggling and squirming. My mother tried to get him to hold still, but all he did was struggle and grunt even more fiercely.

He began to urinate and defecate...and then went limp. His eyes went blank. He died of shock, or stress, or whatever.

I don't know if it's my fault, but I've been feeling like shit the entire day.

Fuck you, world. You're not funny.

(no subject)
On the way back from school today, my sister spotted a kitten lying in the middle of two roads (an area marked off by yellow lines). My mother suggested we go back and bring it somewhere safe, because the traffic was really crazy. My mother and sister then saw the bloody wound on the kitten's hindleg, and almost decided to give up because they thought the kitten was dead.

Luckily, we went back to check anyway, and I saw the kitten move it's head from side to side. Mom pulled over and hit the emergency parking light, and, armed with my sister's uniform, we went after the kitten. To our surprise, the kitten sprang quickly away and hissed at us before running into some bushes. I ran to the opposite side and tried to prevent the kitten from running into the road, while mom tried to bag the kitten with my sister's uniform. 

For an injured animal, he was pretty quick. The kitten ran away...into the middle of the road.

A car passed by, and mom almost fainted.

We were afraid to check, but, seeing that it was almost green light, we did. The kitten was there, scowling at us from under the shade of the car. Mom tapped the window and told the driver "there's a cat underneath your car! Don't squish it!" Chaos ensued, and we spent a frantic thirty seconds trying to scare the cat out from beneath the car. The kitten did eventually run out...and then hid beneath another car.

By this time, mom got a panic attack and kept asking what do we we do...what if it gets run over? I was frantic too, and I think I even cussed at my mom (meaning a colorful variation of "shut up.") The same thing happened: mom told the driver of the BMW to drive slowly, and we tried to shoo the cat out from underneath the car. The bus driver behind us was staring, and so were many other drivers.

I guess it's amusing to see people talking to car tires, to see people waving a pink shirt frantically across the asphalt.

The kitten was fine. That bastard was sitting between the two front tires of the BMW, so I told the driver to drive away slowly. He did, and the kitten stayed put. Mom, with Tiffany's uniform on her hands, quickly grabbed the kitten. She wrapped it up and put it into a bag.

The vet (yes, the one Denise works at) says the wound has been infected for some time, and, consequently, the kitten is suffering from a severe fever. I went in and observed the kitten; his right hindleg was bare, red, and bloody, while the one of the left had similar injuries below the thigh. I mistook the crawling dots for ants; they were fleas. They were everywhere on the kitten, and the assistant vet kept rubbing alcohol into the kitten's fur. The fleas dropped and hopped out everywhere on to the operation table.

The wounds obviously indicate animal mistreatment. The skin was torn clean, right off the wound, fur and everything. A dog, cat, animal, or car couldn't have inflicted the wound on the kitten.

He's got a 15-20% chance of survival. If he does survive, the vet says he'll need to graft skin on to the wound. Right now he's scheduled for an IV drip, wound disinfection, and an oxygenated isolation chamber.

Carrie was there. It was her first day of volunteer work at the vet's. 
Denise and Carrie: tell me how he does. I intend to keep him.


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