Oh Punk

G.I Nooooooooooo!

I've seen some pretty bad movies, but GI Joe takes the cake.


Even though my ticket was paid for -- with two slices of pizza, popcorn, nachos and two drinks at a theatre across the street from my condo -- when the credits rolled, I *STILL* felt ripped off.

GI Joe was complete with terrible acting, an equally awful storyline, and clearly green-screened sets; not to mention CG worse than Dune 2!!!

If it weren't for Sienna Miller (I love her) and Rachel Nichols (I also love her) this movie would score a 0 out of 10. Instead it receives a 0.5 out of 10. Good work ladies, good work!

Here is a list of things I'd rather do than watch GI Joe again:

- Praying the rosary... all mysteries... while kneeling... on rice...
- Volunteering with H1N1 infected lepers in Mexico City
- Having lunch with Ben Stein
- Eating hardcore Indian food in my new car with the windows rolled up
- Shot gunning cans of Vienna sausages and chasing with warm cans of Red Bull



Above: Sienna Miller. "Hola Senorita!!!"

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Do I look Korean to you?

On Sunday, Y E Yang came from behind to beat Tiger Woods for the 2009 PGA Championship. Coincidentally, a couple of the guys and I hit the local driving range.



We step into the proshop, and an older gentleman behind the counter points to my Philipino friend: "You, you're Korean! You guys won today!"

Chin: "Nah, I'm not Korean?"
Old man: "You're not Korean? You're not Korean? What are you?"
Chin: "I'm Philipino"
Old man: "What's the difference? You people won!"

Maybe I'm a jerk, but I found that hilarious. Remind's me of Chappelle's bit on Do I look Chinese?


What wasn't hilarious was Chin's intentional lack of taping my Ryan Howard golf swing:





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From Dusk 'til Dawn

There aren't many Saturday nights that I find myself at home alone. This past Saturday was no different. The options? Dinner with a smoking hot model-type girl and/or hitting a trendy downtown lounge with friends.


After getting dressed sooner than expected, I found myself with an hour to kill. It was the perfect time to test out my new super computer!


I recently moved from a Mesozoic Era Pentium 4 to an 8 GB Quad Core system complete with SLI'd video cards. Overkill for e-mail, Facebook and YouTube -- however, not all was a waste -- I did by a game, Red Alert 3:






I have been a huge RTS gamer since a bunch of Russian mobsters intro'd me to Red Alert back in 1997, although I haven't put in any serious gaming hours since 2003. Why?


When I play RTS games, I get completely immersed.

Nothing else matters. Not even my GGR636 exam. Yeah, that's right -- I skipped the exam to defend the Western Hemisphere from commie bastards. What's wrong with that? Nothing according to $45 and a medical certificate signed by my doctor. Plus it was an elective, and only Geography. Who majors in Geography? Really?


But that was then and this is now. The difference between 2003 and 2009 is that I'm 30 years old. I am officially an adult. I have will power.

I installed the game at 9pm and gave myself a time limit of forty-five minutes. And that's what I did.


WOW is all I can say! Games have come a LONG way from where they were in 2003. The shading, the special effects, and the explosions. I was literally blown away!


Time ran out quickly and it was time to meet up with my friend for dinner. I shut down my PC, and left my den to grab my phone...


... before I even made it to my phone, it hit me: Sunlight.


The forty-five minutes that I spent playing was actually 9.5 hours!!!

And the worst part? My cell was on silent so I had SEVERAL missed calls. Ugh! I've never gone a gaming rampage like this. Now I know how kids in Asia keep dying from lack of sleep due to RTS games.

Not all was lost though. At least the Emperor's Floating Battle fortress was mucled by my relentless fleet of Vindicators. Kane, I'm coming for you next.





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District 9

Saw District 9 tonight. It was unlike *anything* that I have ever seen before! Incredible.



... go to the theatre, pay and watch this. It won't disappoint!

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Stalkerific!

Was on MSN earlier tonight. This convo made me laugh:



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Jumping, jumping...

Aren't jumping pictures fun?



Found this picture over the weekend. Needless to say it was taken by Reflecting Pool in Washington DC. Former president G-Dubb was surely rolling in his tomb.

Lincoln? He was probably thinking that Lex always gets great hang time. Chin is showing off his belly. I'm uselessly flapping my wings, while Air Jordan is simply Air Jordan. Ahhh, good old Linky.

Speaking of monument desecration, this picture reminds me of this picture. Geez, I can't take these guys ANYWHERE.

Anyhow, karma has attacked. I'm dying from a migraine. Back to bed for me! Love me or hate me, send me an email.

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Human Ring Toss

Ever run into a girl wearing a tiara with a rubber penis stuck to it? I did, last night.

She was like a sex toy unicorn princess. Thankfully -- for her -- it was her bachelorette party. Her friends forced her into wearing the hideous headpiece.

While most of the bar's male dirtbag clientelle made crued and generally "stupid-guy" comments, I used my charm. Moments later, voila.

I had magically acquired glow-in-the-dark-bracelets and had the girl on her knees. She had become a human ring toss game. See video:



It's a shame I didn't have my real camera with me. Oh well, you get the point. I'm a jerk.

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Refuse to lose...

Yes, it's March 21st -- however -- the Christmas lights will stay up and stay on. They have been running straight since November 2008.



Out of four segments of lights, the above is the only set that still illuminates. Conserve energy? Uhhh, no.

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Soulja Boy's number?

In Soulja Boy's new song, Kiss me through the Phone, he tells his girl to call him at six-seven-eight-triple-nine-eight-two-one-two.



The song is super catchy and has seen heavy rotation in RSXXXY. Needless to say, 678-999-8212 has engraved in my mind. Could it really Soulja Boy's number? Hmmm.

I did some research and the area code 678 is a real area code assigned to Atlanta and suburbs. Ironically DeAndre Ramone Way (aka Soulja Boy Tell 'Em) is from ATL.

Coincidence? I think not.

I had to find out.

So I called...

... words cannot explain how stupid I felt, when some random answered the phone "No, I am not Soulja Boy!"

Now you know why movies use the 555 prefix in numbers shown on-screen. Otherwise, you'd have thousands of idiots (including myself) writing down numbers, going home and dialing:

"Hi can I speak to Indiana Jones?"

At least I'm not the only one. I took great consolation in the these Yahoo! Answer questions.

Ugh, terrible...


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Lending a helping hand...

Never call me for help, especially if your name is Ruby and your car happened to die across the street from my place, as in I can see you from my balcony!

If so, you will become a video blog entry...



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O-mazing protection...

Unless there's a brand new Ferrari 430 with a giant bow on your driveway, no one really like surprises. That's why you use protection.

I recently stumbled upon these in the drugstore:



I've since been hooked. They're called One Condoms by Global Protection. Not only do they come in stylish metal cases with funky wrappers -- but -- they are made out of some space aged latex that feel truly au naturelle.

Un-focking-believable.

A definite must buy!

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Questions from the Mailbag

Q: Why haven't you updated your blog in over a month?

A: I've been busy.



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Big Ballin' Sub



Visiting Subway restaurants can be problematic. I always encounter dilemmas such as "Which sub should I get?" or "What type of bread would be best for this sub?"

When it comes to Subway, I have 99 problems, but their products being inexpensive for me ain't one"

A while back, we were heading home from a nightclub. We pit-stopped into a sandwich shop, surveyed the menu and ordered. I was up first. I whipped out my wallet and paid for the driver and myself. Two large subs, two drinks, $16.

"Can I help you?" the sandwich maker asks the third and last in our group.

His focus shifts from the menu and onto the sandwich artist in disgust. "Yes, but none of these subs fit my **ballin'** taste."

"Excuse me?"

"I need something classier. Something your menu doesn't have. Can we make something custom?"

"Yes, but I'll charge you extra."

"No problem, I'm **ballin'**, I can afford anything here."

NEVER, EVER tell a storekeeper you're ballin'. That's like writing a blank cheque. One sandwich later, no drink, $18. He ordered an extra slice of cheese and it brought the total to $20. Long live the Big Ballin' Sub!

FOOLISH.

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Delayed Reaction: Bad Santa 2008

Thanks to everyone's wacky travel schedule, my friends and I are having our annual Christmas party tonight, January 31, thirty seven days after schedule.

Should be an evening of food, drinks and good times... but we know what we're all looking forward too. The annual Bad Santa game!

The present that I'm bringing is absolutely stellar. Can't tell you what it is, but here is a clue:



For those of you who are unfamiliar with our little game, the rules to the game are pretty simple. As described in a post from a few years back:

Everyone brings a present to the party, their names are thrown into a hat and drawn for order of selection.

The first person selected picks a gift (except their own) from a pool of presents and unwraps.

The second (and subsequent) person can either select a new wrapped gift from the remaining pool or steal any previous person's gift. Should they choose to steal a gift, the victim of the stealing gets to choose a new wrapped gift from the remaining present pool.

This continues until every participant has opened a gift!

Since the first person never had an opportunity to steal gifts, they are now given the opportunity to keep their gift (which probably has been stolen and swapped with something lame) or steal any one of the particpant's gifts.

In 2008 we will continue with our veto rule. If you bring a present to the pool, and it sucks, it can be "veto'd."

Let's say you contribute an MP3 player. Should they be cheated by the appeal value of your gift, whoever opens it has the right to call a vote in which people will determine wether or not your gift is crappy.

If it is, the gift you selected (or future pick) from the pool goes to the person who chose yours, you get get your shitty gift back, and you have to get the F-out. Simple.

Thanks to rules like this, the prizes get better year after year. In 2007 I scored a Logitech Harmony. A Nintendo DS Lite in 2006. You get the point. We figure that by the time 2020 comes around someone will be giving away a car: "Hey look, I got a 2020 Hyundai Accent."

Come strong, or don't come at all.

I'm also looking forward to the annual punkie awards. There aren't many categories up for grabs in 2008, but they're always a laugh.

Does anyone remember the "Talib Kweli Home Cleaning Gift Certificate" that was awarded to the messiest bachelor pad? The videos are just classic.

Good times! Here's hoping I don't win another stupid Chinese Fortune Cat.


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Put your hands up for Detroit...

This past weekend me zoomed down to Detroit for our annual trip to the North American International Auto Show.



Despite the economic downturn, the show was great.

GM, Honda and Toyota showcased the latest in hybrid technologies, while the rest scrambled to keep pace. Stages through the COBO Center were packed with hot technology, hot cars and what seemed to be a neverending stream of hot women: The new Allante -- I love Kelly Bundy.

Unlike last year, I wasn't quite the photowhore. Here are a few pictures of our adventures:


Above: Scion's display of customizable cars! Awesome.




Above: *Drool* Audi's R8



Above: Lambo heaven. I didn't even notice the models prancing around giving out misc PR garbage. What a hot bunch of cars. I so need to get a better paying job...



Above: GM's World Headquarters, the REN CEN. Too bad the resto -- Coach Insignia -- on the 71st floor was closed. Thank God for Tunnel BBQ.



Above: Is it me, or does downtown Detroit remind you of I am Legend? The sun was setting so we had to get the *F* out.






Above: Speaking of "I am Legend" we managed to get some time in the "hood." Good times. And yes, that first building really was an abandoned police station! POLICE STATION!

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