Die.Airenot mad. not black. not woman.
cheedogg
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Name: Chee-Ming.
Country: United States
State: New York
Metro: New York City


Interests: Finding another way around it, trying to get away with it, and getting yelled at by others for doing so
Expertise: Retaining useless facts; Imitating my brother imitating me; Naming all 49 states, alphabetically (no, I will not recognize Missouri)
Occupation: Writer (with a Literary Agent)


Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website


Member Since: 8/28/2002

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Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Video Gaming 3.0

Some might call this a gag, but I call it the first war-themed video game I'd actually drop 50 bucks to play. I mean, seriously, wouldn't this kick so much ass?



Let my daydreaming begin.


Friday, October 30, 2009

Boo

I'm not a fan of holiday-themed TV episodes. Most of them are cheap, cheesy, and made for the same kinds of people who still think "Smallville" is a good show (yes, it's still on the air).

It's been a while since I've enjoyed a good Halloween episode. The last one I can recall was The Simpsons "Treehouse of Horror III," but that was 17 years ago.

I'm here to announce that the dry spell has finally been lifted, and I couldn't be happier. See if you agree.

If you don't, enjoy Smallville and The Vampire Diaries. And see you in seventeen years.


Thursday, October 29, 2009

Makes a Great Meal

Instead of Hamburger Helper they should call it Ground Beef Helper, cause that's what it is.

I once tried to make their beef stroganoff using hamburger patties instead and it ended up looking like a large animal had pooped, then stepped on it, then let it dry, and then blew diarrhea on top of everything.

Yes, it still tasted good, but it looked nothing like the picture on the box. And that, my friend, is what's called false advertising.


Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Somewhere Between It and Not It

Elizabeth Taylor is telling everyone to see Michael Jackson's "This Is It" documentary. LaToya Jackson, on the other hand, says don't see it.

This really sucks. So far I've lived a life free of not having to follow the bullshit, crazy advice of people like Liz Taylor or LaToya, fourth-rate celebrities who love themselves so much I'm convinced they eat their own toenails.

Now, how can I possibly do the opposite of both these losers? Do I have to end up agreeing with one? Do I have to have to say, for the first time, "Yes, I completely agree with LaToya?"

I think I do. Please take this cassette single of 1984's "Bet'cha Gonna Need My Lovin'" and fuck me.


Saturday, October 24, 2009

Change in Plans

After leaving a reasonably-priced Japanese restaurant, my party of 8 had plans for a night of drinking and catching-up. Some of us came from out of town, and most hadn't seen each other in years. Everyone had planned this a month in advance. I had purposely cleared up the entire Saturday night.

The second we stepped outside in the rain, 1 person said she was not feeling well, so she and her sister (who commuted for 2 hours just to get to this dinner) headed back home.

Ten minutes later, at a frozen yogurt shop, 1 person went into the bathroom to throw up. She did this twice. She and her boyfriend then called it a night. We're now down to 4 people. No one's had a drop of alcohol yet.

While this girl was throwing up a second time, 1 person got a call from his family. His grandfather, who lives 8,000 miles away, was basically dead. He was no longer in any mood to celebrate. He and his girlfriend decided to go home to cry about it.

Down to 2.

1 person decided he really wanted to go home and watch the Angels play the Yankees at Yankee Stadium on TV. We're both holding up our umbrellas, 3 miles south of Yankee Stadium. I told him there's no way in hell they're playing tonight. I totally called the fucker out, since he still left anyways.

So less than 20 minutes after 8 people had made solid plans to hang out for one "special" night, everyone else, for lack of a better phrase, pussied out. Standing in the rain on a busy street, I looked at my watch. It was 9:25 pm on a Saturday night. Random New Yorkers were walking all around me. Everyone was dressed up, talking and laughing, ready to start their nights.

This is total bullshit.



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