Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: bank robber, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Ghost Town, Norther Winslow, treasure
The sky had completely darkened when they reached the town Norther had set his sights on. Dimly flickering neon lights were all that kept them from swerving into one of the flimsy wooden buildings. “This is a ghost town,” Dr. Frank murmured, hugging himself tighter.
“Right. And we’re going to rob that bank there,” Norther slowed down as he drove by the bank, the tallest building in the small settlement. The town itself was only one street, just in a Spaghetti Western.
“Can I be frank with you, Mr. Winslow?”
“You are,” Norther grinned at the wordplay.
“That bank looks like nothing.”
“You underestimate, Frank. In that bank – ” Norther looked around suspiciously, ” – I’ll tell you once we get in a secured area.” He continued driving to the end of the street. Beyond that there was only the sparse camel-colored sand for miles, dotted with the occasional tumbleweed.
The very last building on the right looked like it was about to collapse on its side and die. To Dr. Frank’s horror, this was the one Norther pulled up to. He parked the car behind the building and they walked to the front, where a faded sign hung above their heads. Hotel, it read, and nothing more.
“Wha-how’d you find this place?” Dr. Frank asked incredulously, staring.
“Google,” Norther replied casually and continued up the steps. Dr. Frank looked back down the street. This seemed to be the only open establishment, and it didn’t look sanitary. In the end he had no choice but to follow Norther into the hotel.
“Hi, yes. I’d like a room please.” Norther leaned over the counter.
“Two rooms,” Dr. Frank hissed. Norther ignored him.
“Name?”
“Mr. uh, John Smith.” Norther turned and winked conspiratorially at Dr. Frank. His pseudonym was fool-proof. They would never be able to sort through the millions of John Smith’s in the United States.
Moments later they were opening the door to their room, Dr. Frank berating Norther for requesting a single room.
“It’s cheaper to share,” Norther said as he laid down his belongings on the bed. He sat down and patted the area beside him. “Sit down.”
“I’d rather stand, thank you,” Dr. Frank retorted, folding his arms.
“Suit yourself,” and Norther lay back on the bed, relaxed. “That bank is no ordinary bank. Its vaults hold one of the greatest lost treasures of the world.”
Dr. Frank couldn’t take it anymore. Here he was miles from home in a seedy hotel with a crazy treasure-hunting bank robber. He turned and left the room.
“Your funeral,” Norther muttered, picking up the television remote.
Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: Alice in Wonderland, bank robbery, Big Fish, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Johnny Depp, Mad Hatter, Norther Winslow
Norther lay his head back as he drove, laughing maniacally. Dr. Frank anxiously reached for the wheel, but his hand was slapped away. “I drive,” Norther warned possessively. The wind whipped their hair back, exposing their almost identical wrinkled foreheads as the red sports car raced East toward Texas. “We need to find us a place to sleep,” Norther said, looking around them for a rest stop. But the flatness of the desert stretched out uninterrupted for miles.
The sky slowly darkened above them until it was a deep champagne red. Accepting his fate, Dr. Frank let his guard down and rested his head back. The car swerved dangerously and he sat up, alarmed. Norther’s chin rested on his chest, and a loud snore erupted into the air. Dr. Frank slammed his hand down onto the steering wheel and maneuvred the car to the side of the road.
He was afraid to sleep, but could not resist the downward pull on his eyelids. Soon the two men were sleeping like babes, their snores scaring away the wildlife. It was enough to protect them through the night. Their jackets, however, were not enough to protect them from the desert’s harsh nights, and they eventually slept closer and closer until they were holding each other to keep warm.
The next morning, Norther awoke screaming. “What is this?”
Dr. Frank snorted awake, “What?”
“We’re in a ditch! More than that, what the hell were you doing hugging me in your sleep?”
Dr. Frank chose not to answer that, because he didn’t know. “We should probably push the car back onto the highway.”
“Damn right we should.” Norther scrambled out of the car and leaned on the back-end of it. Dr. Frank followed, albeit at his own much slower pace. “Hurry up! Is this how you’re going to be at the robbery, because if yes you’re gonna get us killed.”
Dr. Frank didn’t know what had gotten into Mr. Winslow making him so snappy, but he hurried nonetheless. The two men pushed against the car with all their might until it moved slowly upwards and onto the main road. Sweating, they rushed back into their seats and drove off.
“That was a good workout,” Norther said.
“Keep your eye on the road please,” Dr. Frank reminded him nervously.
“Don’t worry about it, Doc. I’m a bank robber. I can take anything.” Dr. Frank stayed quiet, although his mind was still racing with worries.
“How many times have you robbed a bank?”
“Once, last year. I told you, it’s how I got this shiny car.”
They drove on for several days, with nothing uneventful happening because Norther miraculously managed to find a rest stop each night, successfully eliminating awkward nights spent huddling in the sports car. It was as if that traumatic experience had made him determined never to spend the night in his car with Dr. Frank again.
At the end of three day’s drive, they reached Texas. Norther’s land of opportunity. It would be another three days until they reached their target.
Side note: I can’t think of the Mad Hatter as Johnny Depp. Is this the second Jack Sparrow?
Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: bank robbery, Big Fish, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Norther Winslow
“Is something wrong?” Dr. Frank’s wife asked him when he exited the bathroom. Caught defenseless, Dr. Frank hastily zipped up his fly and widened his eyes.
“What? Well that came out of nowhere. No. There’s nothing wrong. Why, is there something I don’t know about? He looked everywhere but at her. Dr. Frank’s wife folded her arms, then unfolded them again to take off her reading glasses. Her book started to close, and she rushed to save her page. It ruined the effect she was going for, to say the least.
“What did the white man have to say to you today?” she asked him, getting to the root of the problem. Ever since Mr. Winslow had visited their office earlier that day, Dr. Frank had been alternating between brooding and jumpy.
“He said that he needed a root canal done.”
“Well why did he go into your office, Dr. Frank?”
“He was ashamed that he needed the root canal. It is a shameful thing in white people’s culture.”
His wife looked at him. “Dr. Frank, we’ve both been living in the United States for over fifteen years. You and I both know that white people are not ashamed of root canals.” They both paused to remember Mr. Henderson, who had come in yelling that he had a root canal. He had enjoyed the consequent spectacle.
“It varies with each white person. Come on, Wife. You can’t generalize like that. Let’s go to sleep, hmm?” And with that Dr. Frank turned off the lights and slid into bed next to her. Dr. Frank’s wife sighed, then closed her book and placed it on the nightstand.
The next morning Dr. Frank awoke and found his wife to have left for the office earlier than usual. Sighing, he finished his morning routine and began the walk to the office.
He was just passing the hip new Asian restaurant next to the firehouse when he was tackled to the ground by a big blur. In the bushes, they wrestled. Finally the blur tired and gave up. Dr. Frank sat up. “Mr. Winslow?”
“Call me Norther. Are you ready to go?”
Dr. Frank, bewildered, shook his head. “No, of course not. You told me yesterday.”
“That’s plenty of time.” He looked down at Dr. Frank’s shiny black bag. “Ah, you’ve packed.”
“No, these are some dental -” but again he was yanked to Norther Winslow’s shiny red sports car. A sign of his mid-life crisis, to be sure, but also of his newfound wealth after robbing his first bank nearly a year before. The wealth was surely deteriorating as well, for the car had a few unrepaired scratches, and when Norther tried to start it, it rumbled furiously in response.
“Let’s go.” He smiled creepily at Dr. Frank, and the car raced off in a whirlwind of dust. Coughing and choking, Dr. Frank had no choice but to comply. Thus Dr. Frank, dressed in a forest green polo shirt, brown belt, and khakis, drove off with Norther Winslow into the sunset. His wife could only make the conclusion that he had turned gay and run off with his Caucasian lover. She cried for five minutes, and moved on. What strength and resilience did this woman portray.
Filed under: Dr. Frank, Uncategorized | Tags: bank robbery, Big Fish, crossover, dentist, Dr. Frank, fanfiction, Johnny Depp, Steve Buscemi
Umm, okay. After weeks of neglect, I decided to check my stats, because that’s always fun. And what did I see in the search terms but “dentist fanfiction”? Since I have nothing better to do than walking around in a Hugh Hefner-ish bathrobe that belonged to my mother, I’ll indulge this strange fantasy.
I know I’m crazy for wearing a bathrobe in this heat. But, how do I say this delicately? My uterus is expelling blood.
Wow I’ve never been so outright about it before. Must be a hormonal thing, and I’ll come to regret it in six days.
Okay, the dentist fanfiction. Naturally I must make the protagonist my beloved dentist, whose belly grumbles as he rewires my braces. It is important to note that Dr. Frank looks like everyone, most notably Steve Buscemi and that one picture of Johnny Depp in Rolling Stone magazine. I know, how does he do it?
Onward.
Dr. Frank picked up his sleek dental bag. It was shiny and black, and only added to his hipness that summer morning as he walked to his office. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, beads of water falling to the cement in a graceful formation. How Dr. Frank was able to be this cool, no one knew. And he’d be damned before he shared his secrets. Dr. Frank stopped himself mentally. He never used those sort of words; Dr. Frank was a mild man. He lived in a a beige suburban house with his wife, who helped out at the dental office as his receptionist.
After stopping to admire the new red paint on the neighboring dairy store, Dr. Frank continued until he reached his office. The bell jingled as he pushed the door open, and his wife looked up from the counter. “Dr. Frank,” she greeted him. “Mr. Tse’s your first appointment. He’ll be coming in in a few minutes.”
Not even a good morning, Dr. Frank thought sadly. He nodded and walked deeper into the office. His assistant, Clara, stood at the counter, labeling plaster models of teeth. Hearing his footsteps, she glanced up. “Good morning Dr. Frank,” she smiled. Even if she was just getting on his good side for that recommendation letter she needed, Dr. Frank appreciated the gesture.
“Good morning Clara,” he returned. “How are the models coming along?”
“They’re great,” she said, turning one around in her hand. “This one’s got a bit of crookedness with the wisdom teeth, but there’s nothing we can’t pull out.”
Dr. Frank opened his mouth to reply when he heard the bell jingle in the lobby. “Excuse me Clara,” he said, rushing over to the doorway. “Mr. Tse?” he said, but it was not Mr. Tse.
“Uh no, I’m Norther Winslow,” the man smiled, his teeth making Dr. Frank’s fingers itch. How he wanted to straighten them all right now. And to scrape the evident plaque off of them.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Winslow. I’m Dr. Frank.” He stuck out his hand, and they shook.
“I’m Norther Winslow,” the man repeated.
“Yes.”
“Uh, may we speak in your office? Privately?”
Dr. Frank stared, taken aback. No one ever entered his office, except his wife to drop off files and dust the bookshelves. “Uh, sure. Yes, right this way.” Norther trailed behind him as they entered his office. Dr. Frank quickly flipped on the light switch and welcomed Mr. Winslow to sit in one of the plush chairs facing his desk.
He himself sat down in his own swiveling desk chair. Norther leaned in conspiratorially. “Dr. Frank, I am a wanted man.”
“What?” Dr. Frank, once again was taken aback. Here was a man who had managed to shock him twice within five minutes of acquaintance, a challenging feat in itself.
“I robbed a bank in Texas,” Norther continued to whisper, glancing occasionally at Dr. Frank’s wife, whose eyes darted toward the office every three seconds. She had no idea what business her mild-mannered, if not cool husband had with such a wild-eyed white man, but it didn’t look legal.
“Why are you coming to me? I’ve never seen you in my life!” Dr. Frank whispered furiously back at Norther. He didn’t want any trouble, he just wanted to run his dental clinic and live his quiet life. He had won awards, and deservedly so. Neighborhood housewives regularly invited him and his wife over all the time. In fact, they got by without cooking for themselves, so beloved were his services to the community in filling cavities and curing root canals.
“I need a decoy, Dr. Frank. I need a distraction.”
“You’re going to pull another one?”
“Very smart Dr. Frank. I heard you were a quick one. So,” Norther looked deep into his eyes. “Are you in or are you out?”
Dr. Frank’s moral compass spun around wildly. It was obvious the answer was no, so what was he hesitating for? He weighted the options. Dr. Frank the bank robber or Dr. Frank the dentist? It was obvious which he belonged to.
It was a great surprise to him then, when the word that slipped out of his mouth began with a Y and not a N.
Looks like this one’s going to be a serial. Unless I lose motivation, or am booed off the stage.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: AA, Arrested Development, bald, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, decor, dentist, directing, Dr. Frank, facial hair, family, frolicking, hair, hiking, Johnny Depp, junk food, nature, Norther Winslow, Northern California, Oliver Twist, school, spring break, surfing, Taco Bell, teenagers, Tobias, trip, Utah, weight gain
I had a thought about bald men today, but thankfully I’ve displaced it from my noggin.
Actually I had different thoughts on the same topic two days ago at a Taco Bell when two teenage guys walked in and had that “closely shaven but not quite” haircut. And it was ugly.
What can I say, many have that hairstyle. None can pull it off. Unless, of course, you look like a hideous with a full head of hair. In some instances, hair should not be grown. More and more I realize this applies to Johnny Depp’s mustaches and beard. Excuse me, goatee.
Who wants a beard? Well, beatniks for one.
I’m not going to continue with that. One, because I’m lazy and should be writing an essay right now. Two, okay…I’ve slightly forgotten it. Shame on me. Shun.
Speaking of CatCF, Grandma Georgina appeared in “Oliver Twist”. Gah I’m so proud of her. And I know she loves me.
Maybe the bald men thing is coming from watching all of “Arrested Development” in a little over three days. Tobias is my favorite character.
Anyway, it was a really deep thought, but has since been replaced by a blue whale.
Randomly, I remember when I used to think surfing was cool. And wanted to buy every piece of furniture/art that reminded me of the ocean. Thankfully, those days are over. I don’t think anyone likes surfboard decor except for surfer dudes and young preteen girls.
I recently epiphanized (as I often do) how much I miss just being outside. Frolicking, no matter how gay it sounds, is the best activity in the world. If I could just frolic forever, I would be happy. If we all frolicked, we’d laugh more and stay fit.
So yes, I guess there is something I would love to do more than directing. I’d like to frolic and hang out in trees, but that is even more of an unreasonable career. “Hi, I’m Grapes and I’m a professional frolicker.” Sounds eerily similar to “Hi, I’m Grapes and I’m an alcoholic.”
Of course, just hiking or being in nature is boring. You have to play in it. Wow, this post is just getting frillier every second.
Besides all of this, school is getting really frustrating. I have three projects due the pointless week before spring break. And I know it’ll just be worse after break, because my brains will be gooey. I never remember anything after spring break. Although, who feels like going shopping with me?
My family is going somewhere…not sure where. We might wander over to NoCal (haha) or Utah, apparently. Might see Norther Winslow in Utah…I hope not, because through the transitive property I’d have seen my dentist.
And, I’ve been stuffing myself with junk food lately. It’s huzzah. I know I’m gaining weight by the second…
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: clark gable, coffee, court, da vinci code, dentist, film, free, interview, LA, lawyers, lunch, lunch box, Public Enemies, Starbucks, Sushi, Taiwan, trailer
My dentist has invaded even my future, and he did this years before I was born. How stealthy is Dr. Frank.
I went on a interview today and on the drive home my dad asked me how I had found this opportunity. I don’t think we have weird conversations, it just comes out wrong when it’s typed. Then again, this is mild compared to “does it hurt above or below your belly button?” I said, through (insert organization name here of Taiwanese people who like Taiwanese independence) He thought for a moment, then said, “I know. It’s the dentist.”
Time froze. I’m not exaggerating, the cars on the highway began to blur, and it wasn’t because I wasn’t wearing my glasses.
Then he began to explain how in the dentist’s college’s alumni network (why does my dad know this) a bunch of them moved to (insert state where interview lady came from) who were also pro-Taiwan independence.
It was reasonable.
FJP strikes again?!!?!? After invading every other aspect of my life, he had only this to conquer. So that the day I win an Oscar I can say, “Dr. Frank, this is because of you.” And denture sales will rise like never before.
He’s even invaded my most anticipated movie of 2009. In the background of a “Public Enemies” still, there is a movie poster with Clark Gable on it. For those late in the six degrees of grapes game, Clark Gable is one of many who equal Dr. Frank.
I found this picture online and laughed at the fact that something random Chinese people carried their lunches in is now being sold as a marvel (ish).
That’s what my parents delivered to me the one time they brought my lunch to school this year.
My friends and I stared at it and proceded to try to open the darn thing.
It wouldn’t open.
It was like the Da Vinci Code. After many ornate twists and turns we opened the first compartment to find: an egg. Disappointed, because the container was huge, we tried more ways until finally the entire lunch was unboxed and eaten. Huzzah.
Today was pretty exciting. Free lunch and skipping a few periods of school, and then a trip to LA where it seems infinitely more fun but much unhappier. And my dad taught me how to order at Starbucks while forbidding me to drink coffee. Luckily we did not get coffee at all for our interview.
Now it’s late and I’m staying up for the “Public Enemies” trailer.
Also, I loved slapping Sushi with my “18 year old survival guide” they gave out today at the courthouse.
Filed under: sweet dreams are made of this | Tags: acting, child abuse, dentist, dilemna, directing, dream, entertainment, giants, Jack Sparrow, movies, orchestra, shots, theater, tuberculosis
Next year is still befuddling me.
Vince, who was in Bottom Locker with me in 8th grade, came around asking us to sign his petition so that he could run for Commissioner of Spirit. Then, offhandedly, he looks at me and says, “Why aren’t you acting anymore?”
Destruction immediately ensued, and now I am in internal turmoil. How can I be in school plays if orchestra is on Mondays? And how do I fit theatre lab into my schedule? I know I’ve decided to pursue directing but that doesn’t mean I have to give up acting.
His comment also confused me. Why would someone take notice of the fact that I had been acting? Was I actually any good? Because I always felt that I sucked. Maybe it was my dad always telling me that I didn’t know how to let myself go. In fact, when I told him that I wanted to act again, he said, “but didn’t you not make it into the third Bottom Locker?” Thanks.
He’s so protective. That’s not a bad thing, but when it comes to the entertainment business you have to start. You can’t wait for things to come to you. And I want to get a head start, but he won’t let me until I’m done with college and all of that. I might get raped at an audition, and shady people are everywhere in my internships.
I can’t go on ranting about this to my friends in a whiny, “decide my life for me” voice. But I can’t go to school advisor either until I’ve sorted out my thoughts, because if I don’t they’ll inevitably ask me, “what are you asking me?” My parents would just launch me into another sitting of “I’m not trying to discourage you but the film industry sucks.”
Enough with this “you don’t know what you’re getting into” stuff. I know it’s not glamorous and I’ll probably end up a hobo! Who doesn’t wish they could look into the future and see if they’re making the right choice?
Yesterday I took six shots at the doctor’s office and now my arm hurts like it got pooped on from the inside. My unrelenting doctor made me take another TB test. Of course it’s going to show that I do have tuberculosis, because when I was little I took a TB immunization shot that will forever make me seem like I have TB.
Sometimes I hate having spent my toddler years in Taiwan, because this doctor will not believe that it is just the immunization shot. My other doctor, who is from Taiwan, understands perfectly.
Another problem for Chinese babies is that blue spot we all get on our butts when we’re little. It goes away for most as we grow older, but if some American gets a look at the blue spot, they instantly think: child abuse. And the poor fobby parents never get a chance to prove otherwise. Besides, they’re the suspects and the child is just a little kid whom no one believes. How helpless.
I had an awesome dream last night regarding rebuilding a city, giant people (okay, one of them), the evil sister of Jack Sparrow, and escaping from bullets by running with a giant box held to my back. It was epic, and only getting more epic when Angela called to ask for my dentist’s address.
Dr. Frank, why must you be everywhere?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: acting, aging, AP, Beard Papa, blank room, childhood, children's TV, classroom, cubicle, dentist, design blogs, Johnny Depp, Kevin Bacon, life, Liza Minelli, materialistic, Nanalan', nerd, parents, purpose, redecorate, risks, school, sexiest man alive, six degree, store
My dad finally realized that I was watching a show geared towards three-year-olds and told me to change the channel.
Today’s episode was really special, too. Mona came over to Nana’s house and they had a sleepover.
Change of topic. I’m really excited about the English extra credit project, actually. But is it just me or is school getting a lot busier? I feel a ghost of that helpless feeling I used to get freshman year at three in the morning with a position paper due the next day.
Today in the Career Development Class we did a six degree game. I almost peed myself. Not literally, but I did hold back a squeal. Then we started talking about six degrees, and how Miss Saucedo was our link to Kevin Bacon. I swear, this thought crossed my mind: Pssh. Who cares about Kevin Bacon? I’d rather play six degrees of Johnny Depp/my dentist.
Seriously, “Johnny Depp” and “dentist” meshed together into one overlapping word. It is a sad state of affairs when my dentist has managed to become one with the 2003 “Sexiest Man Alive”.
I get frustrated when people expect me not to know something because it was before my time. I guess you wouldn’t know about them dinosaurs then…
Today Miss Saucedo also mentioned Liza Minelli, and I was the only one whose eyes lit up. Is it that everyone else lives in a bubble or am I just a freakish encyclopedia of unnecessary information?
I’m feeling incredibly materialistic right now, and I want some Beard Papa. Have I ever told you how much I love design blogs? Does this post seem spastic to you or what.
I really want to redecorate my room. Heck, I want a whole house just to do whatever with. You know what, I’ll just put it out there. I’m willing to redecorate anyone’s room if they pay for all expenses. You may not even have to pay me. I’ve cleaned Amanda’s many a time. And considered it fun. Just beware: it may end up a Nanalan’ wonderland.
No.
I’m not that insane, I know that many are blind to the wonders of children’s television. So I won’t force it on them. Much. Maybe just a picture of Mona stashed away in the sock drawer for that one unsuspecting day.
It would be so fun to have a little store too, with whatever the heck I want in there. I’m tired of seeing cute stores with some awesome stuff but mostly just cute or funny things for sale.
I also want a blank room. Just think of all a blank room could be. You could do Ernest’s photoshoot in there, build stuff…I’m drooling. And you save on furniture costs, huzzah.
That does it. My future house will consist of a cubicle, a classroom, and a blank room.
Next year will either be killer or awesome. Maybe both at the same time. In high school you physically age five years for every one because of all the stress. Also, you’re so naive you don’t know to protect your skin, and all the awesome wrinkle diminishing lotion-things are for old ladies.
I’ll finally be able to take AP’s in subjects I’m good at. I’ve been waiting for this moment since the beginning of middle school. Until now, the only way you could be ahead of people at Whitney was if you were a math nerd. At Whitney, everyone is a nerd, so you would have to be a nerd of a nerd. Huzzah?
And finally, contemporary media. I feel like I know where I’m going now.
Occasionally, the desire to be an actor returns. But I’ve got no way of pursuing that path now thanks to my surroundings. For all their talk of forging one’s own career, my parents are still very conservative. “Wait,” they tell me. What they’re hoping for is that I might realize next year that I want to be a lawyer instead. They tell me they support me and they only worry, but what parent would willingly let their child gamble their life away?
Going to college gives one purpose in life. For once, you don’t feel like you’re going to school for nothing. You’ve got a purpose, and that is to beat out all your competitors for your dream future.
Pathetic? Perhaps, but that’s what I’m doing.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: A Happy Ending, angry, Arthur, Asian, Bonzom, buffalo, Buster, chinese, Christian Bale, comments, dance number, dentist, dull, forums, grapes, Johnny Depp, life, lollipop, Mika, Miley Cyrus, mole, Obama, rainbows, unicorns
Did I mention that life is currently dull?
If only a herd of unicorns would stampede by and perform a dance number, topped by seven rainbows jiggling in the sky. That would be a day worth living for. Do I sound suicidal? I’m not.
Apparently, though, I look like Buster from Arthur. Remember this guy?
Is it because of the buffalo dream? Because that was not a conscious decision, to become queen of the buffali. Did I mention that it was a nightmare?
Holy guacamole. This slightly cheered up my day. I found a video predicting the end of the world in 2012 – and when it was finished it was so awesome I had to find another, so I looked and beside it -
Could it be? No. Never!
It was.
From the animators of “Lollipop”…holy moly. Yesh. Hey! What’s the big idea?This is the big idea: http://www.passion-paris.com/flash.html#page=d69
Check out the first video. And then of course, watch “Lollipop” because it’s freaking Obama! Excuse me, Mika. What phenomenon is this? I think, however, that Dr. Frank was destined to be my dentist, because we are both lookalikes of EVERYONE. He more so than I, but still.
Obama has it, Christian Bale has it. What does it feel like to have a protruding mole between your nose and your eye? Is it always in your line of sight? In that case, Christian Bale should have been also yelling at his mole, and not just the cinematographer. But really, if you got annoyed at someone, could you just tilt your head to the side and put the mole in front of their face? Or when you’re censoring a movie, could you just cover stuff with your mole?
Person 1: George, what are you doing?
Person 2: I’m…head banging.
Person 1: My, that’s a dirty movie your watching.
Tee hee.
Good golly, I’m bored. There must be an epidemic of boredom traveling around because my friends are all bored too. Or maybe it’s just us.
So. There’s this photo of Miley Cyrus making slanty eyes with her buddies, one of whom is this Asian guy, so this Asian group thingy decides to get very very angry. They do. I wasn’t going to say anything, because even though at first I was like, “What a poop”, I remembered that it was Miley Cyrus, who is generally a poop, and why should I care about her life? Except that they’re making Valentine’s grams with her face on it because apparently it will sell…no it won’t.
Then I read this comment, “Well, if an Asian celebrity had been making round eyes with Caucasians”…Should I just end there at the stupidity of that statement? I have yet to see someone do that, and I’m not the lone Asian kid in the middle of Kansas. There are swarms of us here, kind of. No, I don’t live in Chinatown. And, the commenter wouldn’t have said that unless she did agree that Asians have slanty eyes. Which then obviously proves that she doesn’t know much about Asians because a lot of us have rather hugemongous eyes that really freak me out. Because they look like bugs.
Wow people are vicious in their comments. Shouldn’t be surprised though, I used to sometimes lurk in Johnny Depp forums and read comments of everything related to such. People are vicious there too…and I was strangely more offended then than I am now by this.
Except I do hate when they say stuff like, “Fine, go back to China, where you would get killed for having an opinion.” That makes me say, shut up. You don’t know a thing about being Chinese. Even if it is true that they are freakishly strict over there, people exaggerate for effect. When you’re in that raging commenting mode, you forget common sense.
It’s probably not good for my health to keep reading.
Ah. Angryish post over.
