“You preenaized me,” my friend Joey said in his most accusatory tone.
“What’cha talkin’ ‘bout, Joey?” I replied.
“You did to me what Prince did to Sheena Easton—you preenaized me!”
For those too young un-hip to figure it out, “preenaize” is 1 part Prince (“pr”), 1 part Sheena (“eena”) and 1 part ize (“ize”). The root of this word comes from the fact that before she met Prince, this was Sheena Easton:
With President Obama’s public statement of supporting same sex marriage (he is the first standing President to do so) causing a media fire storm and perhaps, defining this already divisive election campaign season, it just gives me pure, geeky pleasure that perhaps the Washington I loved in shows like The West Wing is happening in real life. Check out the clip above where President Bartlett (played by Martin Sheen, who I wish was my grandpa) throws the smackdown.
(Via Kal Penn)
This is 29-year-old Kenichi Ito:
He has just earned a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records as the fastest man on four legs. To achieve this title, Ito has spent the better part of the last decade walking and running on all fours like a monkey, hence the nickname his friends gave him—monkey.
But lest you think the life of a human monkey is all glitz and glamour, Ito currently does not have a steady job (apparently, “running fast on all fours like a primate” is not a skill that attracts many employers) and other downsides associated with his passion include almost getting your face blown off by a shotgun blast from a hunter who mistakes you for a wild boar.
My fellow Offender Justin has talked about wanting to find an obscure record to break so we can get into the Guinness Book. I guess we can cross running fast on all fours off that list. Any other suggestions?
Well, I finally did it. I got myself a sports car. After several decades of pining, lusting, and suffering, I finally mustered up the mojo to satisfy my man itch.
Sort of.
OK, I actually didn’t get a sports car. I put a deposit on one.
I want this. The CAR, not the photoshopped waif.
And come to think of it, the thing’s not even really a sports car either. It’s more of an SUV meets minivan meets something fast (and furious 6).
What the heck is wrong with me? After spending my entire post-puberty life torturing my soul with the mantra, “one day I will get myself a sports car…one day…”, when I finally decide to pull the trigger, I don’t even opt for a sports car. It’s like going to a strip club for your first time and getting a lap dance from the janitor.
So the celebrity gossip site Just Jared posted a short piece this afternoon with photos of actor Zachary Quinto (Star Trek) running errands with his pooch. An otherwise seemingly dull standard piece of celebrity fluff, but something about this story prompted a reader named Vanessa to post some lengthy rambling remarks in the comments section that started off like this:
Yup, whoever this mysterious Vanessa is, she has finally exposed the truth: that Asians have the secret ability to read people’s minds. That’s clearly why we have “completely expressionless faces” and are “very unfriendly in general” ‘cause we’re using that as a cover for reading your minds.
Now, thanks to the mysterious Vanessa, Zachary Quinto and his dog, we have been exposed. And if you’re thinking to yourself, what the hell does Asians reading minds have to do with Zachary Quinto and his dog? Well, I already knew you were thinking that ‘cause I can read your mind, sucka!
Check out Vanessa’s comment in full as she lays out the truth:
You can now check into Japanese’s newest five-star luxury hotel, or rather, your sheep can.
Yes, the Hotel Sheep Guest House is a new 30-room hotel just for sheep. I can only assume that a number of Japanese keep sheep as pets, otherwise, well, Japan may be an even odder place than I original thought.
The hotel has all the amenities from maid service to TVs in every room to ward off loneliness:
But not everyone is welcome here:
So I was talking to a white dude the other day and he told me he dug YOMYOMF. Which was cool. But then he stopped and started to backtrack.
“It’s OK that I like the blog, right?” He asked.
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“You know…because I’m not Asian.”
My first thought was that this was a silly question. But the white dude was completely sincere. So in case there are other white folk out there, reading this with the same sort of doubt, let me just say this:
We welcome you, white people! Here at YOMYOMF, we embrace you in all your pale whiteness! And in the good way, not in the way your ancestors “embraced” Native Americans with gifts of blankets infected with smallpox.
I dropped the F-Bomb at least 50 times in fifteen seconds. At full volume. Right in the middle of Beverly Hills and right in the middle of the Beverly Hills sign.
Actually, I was slightly behind the Beverly Hills sign, parked, with all the doors of my minivan wide open and whacking my ride to the rhythm of my global, F-Bomb assault with, of all things, a baby towel – a baby towel covered in puke.
I was less than a quarter mile from an important TV audition when my 15 month old unloaded the entire contents of her stomach onto herself and the car seat that she was strapped into. This was not a cute, little baby spit-up, by the way. This vomit was on the order of The Exorcist. The only thing that didn’t come out were her internal organs.
As the following video shows, eating your food is just one of the many functions of the chopstick. And apparently, the proper response to seeing pickpockets stealing from people using their chopsticks is not to call the police, but to videotape them and provide running commentary:
(via Boing Boing)
Daddy’s log, zero three, zero one, two zero one two.
My 15 month old sleeps. In the bathroom. It’s the only place I can stick her that enables me to proceed with daily, adult activities without having to tip toe around everywhere. 1,144 square feet of living space makes you do strange things like this. To my credit, I did leave the toilet seat down to minimize foul odor and to prevent the baby from accidentally taking a refreshing drink from the potty. All so strange, I know. But for some reason, the baby seems to sleep best next to a toilet during the daytime hours. Don’t ask me why.
It has been two weeks since my babysitter left us to tend to her mother’s untimely death in the Far East. She phoned us 2 nights ago. The news was tragic – she would not be returning as our babysitter. She had found a new job closer to her home in the Americas. Turned out she lied about her mother’s passing so that she could test drive another job opportunity. She really had me with this whole “mother’s death” thing. Silly me for believing her…
So here I am, staring at my daughter. In the bathroom. Sleeping. Next to the toilet.
Crap.
Double crap.
I need to take a crap.
If the thought of sticking your head out your car window to place your order at your local fast food drive-thru sounds like an inconvenient hassle, I have the perfect alternative for you: Move to Japan.
Because McDonalds in Japan will soon allow you to browse their menu, order and pay for your food using your car’s navigational system. So not only do the Japanese get to experience cooler menu items that you can’t find here in the U.S. like the Bacon Potato Pie:
I don’t have a babysitter right now. Her mother unexpectedly past so she left for Asia on Friday for a month or two (or three). I don’t have a geographically-convenient, sexy, Korean wife right now either. She just departed on a business trip for a week.
So without a sexy, Korean wife/mom and babysitter to help share in the daily, care schedule of my 2 baby girls, I find myself a bit short-handed at this very moment. Where is Jeremy Lin when you need him? C’mon #17, I needs yo help!
it's peaceful and serene. until the baby wakes...
Being home, alone with 2 baby girls is not easy (at least not for me). It’s not a child to parent ratio that I prefer. It’s exhausting at best and a very lonely space to be in. This happens to me from time to time – my parental support system going down unexpectedly. The work/social/daddy world that I so delicately constructed instantly explodes and I have to become 110% Daddy Fan 24/7 until reinforcements arrive. My personal and professional life must be lived, at best, in between naps.
