4-1!!!

Bahahahahahaha!!!

3-1 LA Kings

Happy New Year! Suck it, Canada!

I'm a Judge Judy, girl

I would LOVE to see Judge Judy, and Gloria Allred, square off in a courtroom.

"That's not how it works in my courtroom, Madam!"

My (only) problem with Gloria Allred

In my opinion...

She makes the women she represents look incredibly dumb.

In other words...

"I'm a woman. I'm weak and feeble. I'm too stupid to make grown up adult decisions. I have a vagina. I'm a victim."

I used to hang out with this one woman until I realized she was too stupid to admit knowing. We'd go to clubs, check out bands, she used to wear little mini skirts, high heels, sometimes no panties... and then complain when men hit on her. 

"I'm not a whore!" 

Really? You're dressed like one. 

"I'm not a piece of meat!"

Then maybe you should wear skirts that cover your vagina. And wear panties. 

Common sense. Prevention. Responsibility.

Women have fought and died so that we (ladies) today can enjoy our liberties. I don't excuse women who fail to take responsibility for their own actions. Stop excusing them.

You always hear how the girlfriend or wife wants to see her boyfriend or husband "take responsibility for HIS actions" but what about her (in)action? Or is she just too dumb to have any responsibility? 

"I'm sorry your honor, I'm an idiot. I have a vagina."

And that's how Gloria Allred, makes her female clients look, like stupid feeble useless cunts. Too dumb to be held responsible for their own decisions. To weak and feeble to use better judgement. 

"I started dating this guy, but lately he's rude, he's vulgar, he's insensitive, he drinks too much, he's controlling, he gets calls from other women in the middle of the night, he's abusive..."

So you're going to stop dating him, right?

"No. I love him. I can change him."

And the next thing you know she's hired  Gloria Allred to be her attorney in a semi high profile spousal abuse/divorce/assault case. 

Regardless if it's about publicity and/or money for both Allred and her female clientele, in front of the camera, in the headlines, these women she represents just look (amazingly) stupid. 

Gloria Allred, gives these women Twinkie Defenses, and that's what bothers me about her. She's not a feminist. She's an enabler of stupidity. 

Allred sued the Boy Scouts on behalf of a little girl who wanted to be a Boy Scout. They have Boy Scouts, for girls. They're called Girl Scouts. And if there isn't a Girl Scout, chapter near by, than that girl has potential to be, what I call, independent and interesting. Let's see, do I want to be independent and interesting, or do I want to be a Boy Scout? I think I'd rather be... 

Independent. Do my own thing. Live my own life. Earn my own money. Not rely on men for everything. 

"Well, ladies and gentlemen of the press, when I was a little girl, I wanted to be a Girl Scout, but there wasn't a Girl Scout, chapter in the area where I lived, and I wasn't allowed to join the Boy Scouts, I'm not a boy, so I started reading books about science, and then I started attending science fairs... And while earning my science degree I met a med student... And together we cured cancer."

Why was suing the Boy Scouts, better than that scenario?

(AWED, Attention Whore Ego Disorder?)

Why can't we just let little girls learn disappointment, and through minor disenchantment find alternative routes to happiness?

Happiness. Like the kind faced little old man in the 43 degree LA winter morning, smiling at the sun, happy as can be, standing on the corner waiting for his Mr Flopsy to make dukies.

Christ, lady. Stop suing the Boy Scouts. I'm going to need those kids to help me cross the street one day!

Oh Canaduhhhhh

Calgary, can't lose to (both) the Ducks AND the Kings. That would just be embarrassing.

It even took four Calgary Flames, to (attempt) knocking down ONE Anaheim Duck.

I think I see what the problem is...

Oh Canadaaaaaaa

Vancouver Canucks, done! Edmonton Oilers, done! Maybe Calgary Flames, can stop the Kings? I'm thinking not so much.

Suck it, Canada! All your stars are gone.

"Met her last night. She has really long hair..."

Wrong! Anyone who's seen me since Saturday morning will tell you, I have very short hair now. I cut off 2 1/2 feet of hair. Unfortunately I was unable to donate my hair due it to being dyed hair. They don't accept dyed or bleached hair.

Why did I cut off? I explain all that in THIS BLOG regarding my natural hair color (now) being almost entirely white. As my little midget hands are about to show you...

 

 

 

When my hair turns entirely white/grey, when all the black is cut out, I'll grow it long again. Until then, I'll keep it styled with short hair. I'm not dying it again.

Maybe now I'll actually hit puberty... or menopause. Whichever comes first. I'm easy. 

Hey Minnesota! I'm about to get racey!

Tomorrow night the low temp in Saint Paul, MN, is reported at 10 degrees. (No, I wrote that correctly, 10 degrees.) Precisely why I live in southern California, now. That, and, I firmly believe the cold weather locks in the "whiteness" of all who reside there. "Whiteness" as in no tan lines, no tan. It took three summers on the beaches of LA and OC before I got tan! When it finally happened I was thrilled. Thrilled!

I got tan! I got tan!

"Maybe there is a god?"

Let's not go overboard.

What am I reading here? Minnesota residents pulled a fake flash mob #blacklivesmatter protest at... The Mall Of America... to divert the (real) protest at... the airport? 

Facepalm. 

The great white heroes. The great white hope. "Save us, white people!"

Help me Heidi!

Help me Willard!

I remember a time when white folks in Minnesota, my neighborhood in particular, a well groomed upper middle class neighborhood, weren't too eager to accept black folks into the neighborhood. 

If the "N word" wasn't being used, it was a method of passive aggression.

Example...

"You're not from around here, are ya?"

Over and over.

"You're not from around here, are ya?"

Not, "Welcome to the neighborhood!" 

Not, "Our kids should play together!"

Not, "We're having a BBQ next Sunday. Come by!"

But instead...

"You're not from around here, are ya?"

Guilt, it's a hell of a thing.

And while making the statement/question "You're not from around here, are ya?" may seem harmless, after hearing it 100 times in a row, it might not sound so much like a question, but rather a polite invitation to move. Which is exactly what that one (and only) black family did. They moved less than (one) winter season later.

Fighting for a humanitarian cause is a beautiful thing. Especially when the significance of the cause is defending those unable to defend themselves. But I have to wonder...

In this day and age...

If it were white folks getting shot instead of black folks...

How many black citizens who use Chicago subways, New York subways, malls, or any method of public transport would intentionally hold up operation in order to protest #whitelivesmatter

?

White people, if you want to help the cause of #blacklivesmatter, if you truly want to do your part, how about raising your children to be responsible compassionate adults, or simply raising them to not be assholes; how about caring for your mentally and/or emotionally disturbed family members?

Cause. Effect. Prevention.  

White people fighting black causes by holding up an airport, a rail, a mall...

In Minnesota

Facepalm.

Mall Of America

Genius.

Mall of America #thewhitestplaceonearth

I meant to say "honky"!

Damn. Messed that up.

 

Discussing what style haircut I should get.

 

"Oh the weather outside is frightful..."

"But the fire is so delightful..."

Most Asian females have some variation concerning one of two hair colors, brown or black. 

I am in the brown category. Dark auburn brown, to more precise, with red highlights in the sun. 

I was in high school when I found a long strand of white hair among my fussy long auburn coiffure. The long white strand of hair was firmly rooted, and thicker than any other strand of hair. Why hadn't I noticed this long strand of white hair before? 

"Because dear, you weren't looking for it."

My grandma was a very smart woman.

I firmly wrapped the white strand of hair around my index finger, and plucked the hair from my head. 

When I was in my early 20's, now living in Los Angeles, working for a music store, a lesbian store manager while French braiding my hair, as lesbian store managers do, commented, "You have a lot of white hair!" 

And I've colored my hair, every two weeks, every month, faithfully, ever since. Black. Black with blue highlights. Black with blonde streaks. Whatever. Black.

 

If you're a woman with a long elegant neck, that's where you wear your diamonds and gemstones, above expensive, but well worth, plunging neckline attire. 

If you're a woman with sexy long shapely legs, you wear your skirts just above the knee with any heel, and look fabulous.

A sizable bust, you wear snug "soft fuzzy sweaters" and with a snap of your fingers get almost anything you want.

But if you're like me, where compliments are in respect to your pretty face and pretty smile, we're supposed to pull our hair back, or wear it up...

Me personally, I notice women who have elegantly quaffed long hair. I'm a hair, girl. I notice first men and women with nicely styled hair --and then I look at what they're wearing. 

Since my early 20's...

I've spent thousands of dollars on my hair. Thousands. Ten thousand. More. Easily. Children are starving, and I've spent over ten thousand dollars on my hair. 

Over this past Christmas weekend...

A loved one and I saw TRUMBO. (Go see it!) We saw it at the Sundance theater where you have to be 21 years old to get into the theater...

I was carded.

I was carded to see a movie.

I guess there comes a defining moment in time when you don't... When you no longer... 

Want to be carded.

I can't explain it. Not yet.

Life. Time spent. I'm tired of being carded. 

I'm not coloring my hair anymore. I'm letting the natural color grow out -- which now happens to be white. 

Over 90% of my hair is now white. I know this based on the color of my follicle roots. 

What's the worst that can happen? Boyscouts help me cross the street? I start getting senior discounts? 

As I told a loved one near and dear, people who think 50, as being middle aged, are delusional. Not many live to celebrate 100 years of age. Once you hit late 30's, 40's, you have to rethink what sexy, beautiful, sophisticated, and accomplished is --for you as an older person. Competing with 20-something, for youth, is foolish. 

I'm not saying coloring your hair is foolish. By all means color your hair. 

But for me, the (only) reason I colored my hair was due to premature aging white hairs. I was afraid of how the world, men, would look at me. Then, a young woman with white hair.

Only...

I'm not so young anymore.

I want something... else. 

I don't care if you think I look young or not, or what your opinion of women with white hair, is. I don't want to dye it anymore. So I'm not,

In two years the white hair will grow out, replacing all the dyed black hair. I can't wait!

Maybe next year I can be Mrs Santa Claus. I would be perfectly content.

And what the hell has happened to all the Christmas movies?

It's A Wonderful Life

White Christmas

Have been replaced with...

Son Of Saul

Spotlight 

Nothing spreads holiday cheer like child molestation and Auschwitz!

?

This time is year (for us) isn't about religion. It's about fun celebratory spirit. 

Seriously, Mr Scrooges. Lighten up.

Ok kids, time to "brave" the 54 degree weather. Oh c'mon! Aramis went surfing this morning! We can do this!

"Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!"

According to my dynamo Asian math

A number followed by eight zeros is more than a million.

Like that one? Fuck trigonometry. I got this!

Miss Colombia, check him out (again!)

I'm sure you've seen him dance by now, but any guy who moves LIKE THIS you know it's going to be good, girl!

And remember...

A number with eight zeros behind it is more than a million dollars. It's how negotiation works. You high ball it, his low bid was a million. You go 100 million and negotiate. Girl, you're Colombian, you know people. He's just a white boy from...

Miss Colombia

Channing Tatum! Pick Channing Tatum! I know he's happily married, but you can still pick him! 

He's so hot.

P.s. A million dollars? Punk money. Your response should be, "FYI a number followed by eight zeros is more than million." Negotiate!

Thank you, Mrs. Claus!

#tigerlivesmatter (good one!)

And can I just add...

#fuckyouSeaworld

Michael Hackenberger is an asshole

Will someone PLEASE give that prick *Michael Hackenberger, 20 lashes. Video tape it. And send me the clip: plaidskirttorpedoes@gmail.com.

I want to watch that animal abuser cower, and hear him beg for mercy. Repeatedly.

That's what I want for Christmas.

*Michael Hackenberger, Hollywood "animal trainer".

In addition...

A whale reportedly died at Seaworld. Fungal infection. I'm thinking whales & Seaworld, shouldn't be a thing. On second thought, Seaworld, shouldn't be a thing.

It's always weird around Christmas

Especially this year.

And then...

Joel Osteen's televised Monday night seminar was about to begin.

I'm torn. On one hand Mr Osteen is a decent preacher, easy to watch and listen to, relatable. He, in truth, had my undivided attention -- juuuuuust before he starts quoting passages from (thee) Bible, as if his uplifting address wouldn't make sense to anyone if there was no Bible to quote by.

I appreciate quotes are helpful when words of wisdom compliment a timeline to something/someone in particular. I get it. I use quotes in my blogs. Like this one...

Blog: Wednesday, December 2, 2015

"A whore's life..."

"Some career advice; a whore's life is five good years, five bad years, and then some half-dick sweat stain grinds you out like a cigarette. Like a goddamn spent cigarette."

FARGO (TV series), Dodd Gerhardt

BUT that's because FARGO is awesome. The social media timeline fit. And because FARGO was picked up for a third season. 

Back to Joel Osteen...

It was a weird moment. Osteen was preaching not to prophecy negativity in our lives, etc, and then Osteen used this rather particular example: Alzheimers. Like in my recent blogs where I think I have early "onset Alzheimers" 

It was creepy.

Creepy!

As if my dad was talking from (beyond) using Osteen to speak to me through the TV. Which is SO like my dad to do.

And as Osteen spoke, I heard my dad...

"Prophesy, my mind is sound. My memories are strong. Alzheimers will not control me."

It's just a blog! I was being sarcastic with the whole Alzheimers thing, dad. Geez.

"If you prophesy negativity, you shall reap what you sow."

Christ.

I was half expecting to have this conversation with my television...

"Do you belong to a church?"

Yes. Kind of.

"Which church do you belong to?"

House of Kings

"Isn't that the liquor store by your house?"

Church, to me!

--- My dad and I actually had a conversation very similar to just that.

Christ, dad. Even in death you're a religious nag. Stop using Joel Osteen, to speak to me. It creepy and weird. You're totally freaking me out. Can't you just slam a few doors and flicker the lights on and off?

Serious religious question: When do you "praise God" and when do you "praise the Lord"?

Is there a rivalry? Because the lord is Jesus Christ, correct? And God is the almighty? 

So...

How do you know who to praise? Is there a play chart? I think this was the question that got me kicked out of Bible camp when I was 11.

I'm still waiting for an answer.

Cult film? Are you sure?

When people call your project the second worst made movie ever --- why, why, WHY would you make a film about MAKING the second worst made movie ever?

Just accept you drank a little too much and forgot your smartphone access code!!

P.S. I wasn't drunk. Just because it took me over 20 tries before correctly accessing my smartphone security code, that's my "onset Alzheimer's" kicking in. I wasn't drunk. I'm Asian. It's really super stupid hard for us to get drunk --- though it doesn't stop me from trying --- faithfully. I'm no quitter! 

If this turns out to be ranked the third worst movie ever made, are you going to make another movie explaining the third worst movie ever made... Like 'Return Of The Jedi'? Look how many movies have been made since, explaining that one. 

It will be like that... Only without the billions of dollars... Or epic downtown light saber battles...

Or Jake Lloyd, who's like 26 years old now.

BLOOD sport!

And I don't mean period sex, because that's just disgusting. I'm talking blood sport. Not drama. Big difference. Drama never ends. Getting your eyes clawed out of their sockets, distinguishes an end. Unless you're Fish Mooney. She just got a new eyeball. A blue one. And I'm not sure it counts if you jab (your own) eyeball out with a fork...

And speaking of eyeballs,

Hey! Have I mentioned being an organ doner, lately? Because let's face it, most of us aren't going to live for very much longer.

There you go

Toronto. 5-0. But (you) Canada, (you're) still a sloppy useless cunt.

How to get Jews to...

Go camping with you. Negotiate. Ok. Ok. Fine. We'll go where there's indoor plumbing.

Chicken.

Mammoth

There are those who absolutely thrive on drama. They have nothing to else. They want nothing else. They create drama. Look for it. Love it. Nurture it.

The rest of us are going to Mammoth. See you there!

Man o festo

I'm surrounded by men. 

For the whole of my life, I'm surrounded by men. 

I work with nothing but men. I live with only men. I grew up in a house of men. I'm amazed I haven't killed myself by now. 

I breathe, sleep, eat, and bathe in the "evanescent" fumes of testosterone, so much so, and for so long, I'm pretty sure I've grown a prostrate. I've named it Vladimir Gannus Wainwright. 

"What's that smell?"

Conceit? Ego? Jealousy? Ah, yes, the aroma of mortal platonic swain. Be happy I imbibe. It's what keeps me in this chair rather than lighting a proverbial match without a devil may care. 

I blog 'Channing Tatum' and the text messages commeth, "He's not that hot" the men spike. Oh I beg to differ, sirs. He's hot. Any man who can move like that... HOT!

And beyond...

Are you sure it's gas?

One volatile whiff of ooze (furthermore, what the hell are you doing living next to a gas plant with kids?!) and I'm reminded of the (ob)noxious weary brume of male machismo.

Did I just compare men to gas plants? Yes. Yes I did. If there was a way I could make a living sitting with a bunch of old ladies drinking tea and knitting sweaters, everyone would be getting (intentionally) ugly holiday sweaters for Christmas. 

If you're going to crew your business with 99% men, make it 100% and call it a day. 

Chan'tube!

It's a Youtube, Channing Tatum, morning. Good for my bustle. When caffeine just isn't enough.

Lardass

It's an iPhone thing. It doesn't work in Galaxy 6 Edge. But still funny!

Home school

I'm surprised more parents don't hire tutors to home school. It could catch on. Crazy world we live in.

Escape from Los Angeles. Not just a movie anymore.

Maine. I've been pondering New England. But I'm an LA KINGS fan, so that could be weird.

$1,592

Who wants it? I'm just giving it away. It's only money. Fuck it. No, seriously, next week I'm just giving it away. This should be fun. (Yes, there's a story behind that specific amount of money. And yes, I'll blog about it eventually.) 

Plus...

Shed 10 holiday (P)ounds!

Which has nothing to do with the money. Separately, for the past two weeks I've been strictly shopping/eating at Whole Foods markets. After the first four days on the Whole Foods diet, I lost three pounds. Well, in addition to...

I also run (approx.) 50 miles per week. In two weeks, it's twice the L.A. Marathon which is 26 miles AND I run it in the required 7 hours. Ok fine. I run it in the required 7 hours, PLUS 6 days, 17 hours, 21 cups of caffeine, and being chased per diem by a few dozen surfers who keep mistaking me for that Chinese herbalist who sells "medicinal elixir" from the front seat of her beat up murder camper. (I'm not her! Stop chasing me!)

But the end result is losing 10 pounds in two weeks, and a regular healthy poo schedule. Take THAT, yogurt! Whole Foods, is pure magic.

AND I recognized my "first" actor at a Whole Foods, Eric Andrè. How cool is that. It may not have been Eric Andrè. It could have been his doppelgänger sporting red Converse high top'ish shoes and a backpack, but I'm thinking it was Eric Andrè. --Hey Mister, you have a backpack. I have a backpack. Let's go hiking! 

Which brings me to this...

If anyone was cool enough to get the joke and sarcasm behind the photos, it would be Eric Andrè! I want to take "Rude Girl" photos ala 'Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!' Circa 1965, Russ Meyer, of course, not lacking a grain of sweet holiday Christmas/Hanukkah defamatory cheer! Even a bear got accused of rape. A bear! Poor bear. Thanks for specifying it was a girl bear. Because that somehow makes it totally less gay? I saw that video. There was no rape. If that bear wants to file a defamation lawsuit on behalf of lost income, I've got an ass-beater of an attorney for her. (Call me.) 

And speaking of attorneys, or in this case, divorce attorneys...

*Sigh* Swingers.

Not their real names...

Couple 1: John & Jane

Couple 2: Ken & Barbie

Both couples wrote me expressing how "madly in love" they are with their spouses, and how each couple have nothing but "love and respect" for the other couple. They wanted to find a single female to add to the mix for "no drama fun"... 

During the first encounter with these two couples, I observed (something) but kept it to myself. I could be wrong. Besides, whatever happens, happens, regardless if I'm right or wrong. And who knows, probably just my imagination...

Only, it wasn't.

After the second and third encounter with these two couples, I knew in my gut what I observed during the first encounter was accurate. Jane and Ken were something more than just swapped spouses. And I wondered how (how the fuck?) did John and Barbie not see it?

I left their group faster than ASAP! "Ok then. See ya. Thanks. Bye."

Not more than two weeks past, I started getting text messages from John, Jane, Ken, and Barbie. Jane and Ken, left the spouses they were "madly in love" with, and screwed over each other's spouse left behind who they had "nothing but love and respect" for. 

(Not my problem! Stop texting me!)

As a single female, you have to vet people for a lengthy time before getting involved with them. And by "vet" I totally mean vaccinations and shots for rabies. You got it boss. Do it!

The "humorous" part of all this was receiving text messages not long down the road by Barbie (and her new partner), by John (asking me to be his new partner), and by Ken and Jane (asking if I still wanted to be their playmate).

Um. Let me think about it. No. No. And Jesus Christ, hell no.

Singles talk. 

"How can you let your spouse fuck other people?" 

Well personally I couldn't. Not my spouse. Which is why I'm not married. My live-out boyfriend/lover, sure no problem, fuck whoever you want. But my husband? The man I'm financially/legally bound to absolutely not. Again, I'm not married. I'm not ready for monogamy or marriage.

I'm old fashion about marriage. I just am. But that's me. Live your lives however you see fit. P.S thanks for letting me have sex with your husbands! 

Swingers, are swingers, because while the sanctity of marriage is gone, the lifelong friendship remains with marital benefits.

Potato 

Po'tato

Swingers in divorce court...

Wife: I now realize when my husband watched me have sex with a dozen other men, at one time, in our living room, with our infant asleep upstairs. The sanctity of our marriage was gone!

Judge: No shit. (Gavel) Next case!

California, is a no-fault state. And judges don't like their time wasted.

I've been laying low and going on Netflix dates with myself. I get me buzzed on liquor, watch about 30 minutes of the movie, masturbate, then fall asleep on myself. --Sounds about right.

I recently watched the documentary SECRETS OF HIGHCLERE CASTLE. That's the castle used in the British drama series 'Downton Abbey'. I learned something about English hunting. Duck hunting. Bird hunting. First of all, I deplore hunting. I find it disgusting and unnecessary. My dad used to hunt and fish. Dad hated abortion. I hate hunting. You better believe debates about death happened in our house! But according to the groundskeepers in this documentary, (British) hunters have a ritual of carrying their bird kills by the neck so that the (dead birds) in death hold their heads up high... in death... As in, the birds are dead. 

Um

You do you know those birds were holding their neck up high (on their own!) before you SHOT THEM for sport. 

Anyway, in closing...

Carlos, bullied me into learning the proper way to sing: 

Feliz Navidad

Feliz Navidad
Feliz Navidad
Prospero año y Felicidad.

P.S. The last chorus of that song is sung in English. Why can't I just sing the last Chorus? 

What?

Whatever!

Fine!