Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Last night I tried out my new show "America Sings", and it got me to thinking about singing and people and singing. My mom is the worst singer in the world. I can say this because she is. She is almost tone deaf but that doesn't stop her from yelling Elvis songs. She doesn't really sing, she just talk/yells. I know I'm being very mean right now, but it's okay because she'll never read this. She never learned to read. That's right, my mother is illiterate. She has gotten by on her good looks and her extremely loud yelling voice. Also she is 6 feet tall and she eats all meat raw. Her talons are ten feet long and children run from her. I love my mom. I really miss not seeing her more often. I hope she'll one day fly over to New York and say "hi". Her wingspan is pretty amazingly large. I'd say it reaches over 30 feet and in a good wind it stretches further.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
I think corn chips are delicious. I enjoy them. I wish that in the summer my feet as well as most people's feet didn't smell like them. I mean, I'm disgusting for thinking about this longer than I need to but is it worth it? Is it worth the smell of cornchips to eat them? All I think about is the smell and it always smells like feet, but corn chips are delicious. They make that sandwich extra special. When I was a kid this girl in my class always put corn chips in her ham sandwich. Very smart, very very smart. I wish I had invented that. I bet somewhere in America they're selling that sandwich as a little thing people can laugh at. "Hey, how original we are. We put chips IN the sandwich, that way people don't need to get their hands messy by picking up those greasy greasy chips. Aren't we amazing and inventive people?" I would say yes, but I knew a girl in grade school who did that way before you even thought of it. She's the OG of the chips in sandwich. Don't even try to steal her thunder, you haters.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
So yesterday I had an audition for something where they separated us into groupings according to race, which is always fun. I was in the Asian woman category and there we sat. A row of Asian women. We were escorted to a room and told to recount our favorite childhood memory. (this could have been a dangerous question. What if they asked a child from the Industrial Revolution about a favorite childhood memory? That kid would have to say, "Sir it was the one day I had to play on the grass, when I was six". But I guess kids during the Industrial Revolution didn't audition for commercials.) Luckily us Asian ladies had some good memories.
The girl next to me, an authentic Japanse girl from Japan, talked about this story she was told as a kid about how there is a rabbit that lives in the moon that makes mochi. I love that. I can see that little rabbit now smooshing mochi by himself in an apron. That was maybe my favorite story out of the bunch.
This was my favorite memory:
I used to love rabbits. What kid didn't? Am I right? (funny there's a rabbit theme here)
When I was eight, my mom brought home two bunnies, Floppy and Fluffy who almost immediately after they arrived, made babbies. A month or so after Floppy and Fluffy settled in, there were eight more bunnies in our home. One night after staring at them for hours, I noticed one baby bunny slipped out of the cage. My dad built the hutch so there were a couple small gaps. I'm not saying he was a bad craftsman. I'm just saying there were some gaps is all. Well so I picked up the miniature baby rabbit and brought it to safety. I saved a life. It is perhaps the best thing I have done for mankind in my entire life. The only thing is that it wasn't for mankind. It was rabbitkind. Oh well, it's close, right?
Friday, April 14, 2006
Well about two days ago I got this phone. This one up here. How? Well I upgraded my plan, blah blah blah. There was a rebate. Blah Blah. But the fact is, I have this piece of technology that I don't quite know how to completely and fully use. But I keep holding it and staring at it and pushing buttons and am marvelled at it. Wow the screen lights up like a television. It's in color. All my life, I prided myself in being behind times, having a phone that has a dull green glow. I was one of the last of my friends to get a cell phone (well, actually I know people who got them even later, and in my heart I know they're like hard core lovers of antiquity or something.)
So, new phone, I'll call you Bertha ann. Oh, I don't care what name I give it. Oh phone, just know that I am very happy to have you. Thank you for your screen full of color, your camera, your sleek design. Thank you.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
This is a throwback to the olden times when boys wore their pants very low and some claimed they saw the underwear.
And they did.
All four of them wearing very low pants. Perhaps this is nothing new nor is it anything fantasmical. It's just cute and funny. I had a little laugh about it all. Look at those pants man, they're low. Look at that. What are they doing with those low pants? How do they run? Do they find a need to run? Who would they be running to and why? I have so many questions about this all.