September 7th, 2004


Liver Labor.

Guess who's dogsitting again? This one's my kid sister's.


Since my girlfriend's been spending almost all of her free time with her mom, who's visiting LA for two months, I've been virtually single. The 'virtually' part means I didn't insert my penis into other women; but I engaged in all the other naughty single male activities: Neglecting household chores, eating abnormally large burritos, and stabbing the elderly. And I discovered this delightful clear liquid called vodka. Apparently you pour it down your throat, and it kicks your brain out of the skull.


Friday, for instance, I went to this launch party for "Taegukgi", a deliciously spicy Korean rice cake dish. Kidding. It's a massive Korean War epic that broke the box office record in the motherland and is now playing in the U.S. in limited release. Haven't seen it yet, but my friends have said it's somewhat similar to "Saving Private Ryan" in that South Korea gets attacked by Germans.

Lots of Asian-American entertainment industry people, actors and such - which means for non-industry peasants like myself, the conversation was dry, painful, and required lubrication. Bang, Grey Goose. After a while I decided to lie and pretend I too was in glamorous show biz. Didn't go too well:

GIRL: ... and that's how I still make money off that scene in "Rush Hour 2." And what do you do?

ME: I'm an actor as well.

GIRL: Really? So what've you done lately?

ME: Well nothing big just yet. But there's this mpeg circulating around the Internet where I'm fucking a horse.

Believe it or not, that was a fictional conversation. But, sadly, this one wasn't:

ME: You know the more you drink, the more interesting you are.

GIRL: But I don't drink.

ME: Then I guess the more I drink, the more interesting you are.


Sunday night I somehow ended up eating dinner with isogen's brothers and sisters at BCD Tofu. Interestingly enough, they all had blogs and read each others stuff. I know that my girlfriend, many of my friends, and random acquaintances read this thing. But if my kid sister read my Livejournal, I'd immediately stop posting, erase my account, and set fire to my computer. She's the reason why I stay out of Xanga - well that and the ultragay eProps.

Afterward I met up with the other people who were lame and uninspired like me and stayed in LA for Labor Day weekend. We first went to this party at Level 3 where a couple of my friends became instantly mesmerized with one of the dancers. "She makes every girl here look like a junior high school chick," one of them muttered. Me, I ran into this woman who knew all sorts of random facts about me: How I met my girlfriend, where I worked, that my friends' old apartment had a stackable washer/dryer, etc. Oddly, about the only thing she didn't know was my name. And then she vanished like Keyser Soze. Actually I just excused myself and got another Goose.

After a while, we went to White Lotus for our second Asian party du nuit. We'd also considered Shelter, where a couple of other friends were located - in fact I think there were four or five Oriental drunkfests going on that night. Back when I was single and amusing, I think there was just one or maybe two of these. But now that I'm old and feeble, all this sudden variety is wasted on me.

Speaking of wasted, White Lotus is where we all got plodgered. It was ridiculous. I saw a married guy lustily pursue ugly, fat chicks. A usually smooth friend of ours kept trying to woo females by asking them if they were strippers. An ancient Greek warrior kept yelling, "Immortality! Take it! It's yours!"

The evening ended at 3:30 AM, in a K-Town restaurant, where I finished a hot, steaming plate of Taegukgi.

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The Antarcticans.

I have this theory about Eskimos.

They're either the most content people on this planet, or the most lazy.

It all goes back to the prehistoric days, when there was a land bridge connecting Asia to North America. It was over this bridge that the future Native Americans crossed in search of a better life and, perhaps, Hobbits.

Once they got to the other side of the land bridge, the Eskimos' ancestors looked around at the frozen landscape with its lethal temperatures, icy winds and man-eating walruses. Then they shrugged, "This ain't that bad." Either that or they thought, "I don't care how fucking cold this place is, I'm not walking anymore."

Just south of the Eskimos you'll find the second most content/lazy tribes in the Western Hemisphere - people whose ancestors said, "Granted, it's still pretty cold. But at least my testicles haven't fallen off my body. Let's just stay here in lovely, testicle-safe Canada."

And so forth. That's my ingenious "Native American Personalities According To Latitude" theory. The more restless tribes kept heading further south, certain that they could find something better. One by one, the tribes would either settle down at a spot because they liked or tolerated it - or they realized that those delightful little Hobbits didn't exist. Or they kept moving.

That would mean the most restless, most unsatisfied tribe was ultimately forced to settle down on the southernmost tip of South America, right? No. My second theory is that they looked across the dark, stormy waters of the Drake Passage and figured maybe there might be something even better on the other side. A wondrous land that kicked the asses of the lands the other less-ambitious tribes had settled for in the Americas. A land made of candy.

So they quickly built their ships, packed them with beef jerky and Gatorade, and set off for a happier tomorrow ...

And they got Antarctica.

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