According to Time Magazine, Dimitrij Ovtcharov's ping-pong serve is the 36th best invention of 2008. I'm not shitting you. It's ranked ahead of smog-eating cement for Chrissake. Dimitrij is the guy wearing red in the video, but the other guy's serve is almost as ridiculous. What the hell happened to ping-pong serves from the days when I played against my dad in our wood-paneled family room? And how the hell did they find TWO white guys to play competitive ping-pong? They must be the Yao Ming and, errr ... Mengke Bateer of pro table tennis.
The one thing I prided myself on when my girlfriend was in Korea was that our dog Terry didn't have diarrhea once under my watch. It was always firm, like a proper handshake, yet not too hard. Well my girlfriend hasn't been back for more than four days, and Terry's already become Turdy again. All day his poophole was firing liquid brown like the chocolate river in Willy Wonka's factory. Thank God this was during his walks and not on the floor.
This time it wasn't entirely the girlfriend's fault. She'd left dried squid on our kitchen counter last night with some of it hanging over the edge. And Terry - who normally is really disciplined about leaving food alone - couldn't help himself. Who knew he had a weakness for dehydrated mollusks?
But still, I couldn't help but gloat. Too many times she'd ignore me when I protested her feeding Terry potentially disastrous treats like fruit or dairy products. And too many times, I'd end up being the one having to clean up his lakes of butt curry. Hopefully she'll take me more seriously in the future, and we'll see more days of proper handshakes coming out of his ass.
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