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Even after I give birth to my first child, I’m pretty sure I’m going to tell my mom and dad that I’m a virgin. It’s like, my duty as the fourth child of two Hardass Asian Parents (who, as far as I know, are also virgins). It’s how we roll, yo. We’re expected to avoid dating but marry someone rich and virile, have babies without ever making sweet monkey love, and teach our kids to do the same.
So the first thing I thought when I read on HuffPo that an Aussie producer put together a cast willing to auction off their virginities to the highest bidder for a reality TV show was: I’ll be damned if there’s an Asian-Australian on that show!!! Hardass Asian Parents would go ape shit.
Apparently, all of the parents are pretty unhappy about the show’s concept.
Filed under: Cultural Lows, Disappointing My Parents, Fear The Wrath Of A Hardass Asian Parent, Flogging, Hardass Asian Parents, Pervs, Prostitution, Reality TV, Shameful TV Show Concepts, Shaming Your Family, Sluts, Virginity, Virginity Is So Overrated It's Unbelievable, Virgins, Weird Australian Behavior
Happy 47th birthday to Scotty Nguyen!
Nguyen is one of those dudes that my parents would never associate with publicly, because he drinks and smokes and curses and does drugs and has lost his fortune over and over again as a direct result of his vices.
But deep down, I know they love him. After all, he’s Vietnamese, and he’s such a consistent winner. Any time a Nguyen is winning in Vegas, my mom is happy.
Filed under: Asians Love Gambling, Birthdays, Disappointing My Parents, Everybody Loves a Winner, Fortunes, Las Vegas, Nguyens Rule, Poker, Professional Poker Players, Scotty Nguyen, Secret Fascinasian, Vices
Can somebody please ask this young’un to–as my parents would say–stop “enjoying life” and stick to real work, like learning calculus?
He may try to be humorous, but–as my parents would say–all we see is failure.
Hails from: Los Angeles
Known for: Graduating (with a degree in astrophysics, natch), at his young age, from East Los Angeles College with an AA degree and a 4.0 GPA.
As if our parents didn’t hate us enough for waiting until our teens to finish high school: news that an adorable, dutiful kid can easily rocket through college while mastering martial arts techniques and displaying mighty charisma, citing “hard work” as opposed to “genius” for his achievements, is sure to fuel the fire.
Sigh. He’s even better in action. Check out video of the little bugger:
I am in one terrible, awful, no-good, very bad mood. Could it be because the moon is full? Did I do one rail too many last night? Is it because I’m still nursing a post-Election comedown and desperately need some methadone? Maybe it’s that I had bad pizza yesterday (which I’ve always thought was impossible). Or that I forgot my parents’ anniversary and feel like a terrible daughter. It’s the fact that I don’t have Guitar Hero World Tour at my house and am worried to death that, without practice, I’ll never master the wild new strumless solos. Or because without debate coverage, new Mad Men and Project Runway episodes, I’ve got nothing to watch on TV besides the Steelers losing to both Manning brothers, and reruns of Dog Whisperer. It definitely has something to do with the fact that that most of my guy friends are being as dramatic as chicks, and all of my chick friends (except for Jen, who is at all times elegant, amazing, and a pleasure to be around) are as crazy as chicken.
But really, when it comes down to it, the “why” I’m feeling shitty doesn’t matter. What matters is what I can possibly do about it. All I’ve been thinking, since opening my angry, slanty eyes this mornings, is what could possibly, in any way shape or form, make me laugh today and turn this crappy attitude around.
And then I saw this week’s FABULOUS Globe cover, which accuses Michelle Obama of exploding against Oprah’s, er, romantic advances:
I mean, I know Barack is ahem, “pretty” and “sensitive” and “soft” and everything, but I’m pretty sure there’s, uh, no love triangle going on here.
Filed under: Bad Moods, Barack Obama, Disappointing My Parents, Funny Stuff, Just A Hunch--Pretty Sure She's Not That Into Him, Love Triangles, Michelle Obama, Misanthropy, Oprah Winfrey, Shit Friends, Tabloids
Happy 26th Birthday, Apolo Anton Ohno! We can’t believe how much you’ve already accomplished at such a young age (by the way, thanks for making us look bad to our moms). Hopefully this year will be another fruitful one… as well as the year you finally shave those god awful pubes off of your face.
When I first saw the above picture of Dina Lohan receiving an Outstanding Mother of the Year award this week, I immediately thought:
Are they a collection of beautiful Chinese women that get together to play Mahjong, sing songs, and compare expensive leather bags and children? Do they dine on rice and complain about how their sons can’t decide between going to Harvard Med or Yale Law? Do they get microdermabrasian together? Do they go for steams together?
Of course, a moment later I realized that “Mingling Moms” is just a small, Long Island, NY-based groups of baby mamas that pretty much like hanging out and having lunch and stuff.
…Which is, of course, why Dina Lohan truly is an outstanding role model! She’s very good at hanging out and having lunch and stuff!
Y’know, if there did happen to be an organizasian called The Ming Ling Moms, I doubt very much they would be willing to honor anyone with acrylic tips as an Outstanding mother. Perhaps, instead, they might issue a statement like this:
“We do not approve of children that do not go to university, do drugs, drink, go to jail, and show private parts to public. The only explanation for this is that mother is failure. Maybe mother should go back to school and show daughter how to succeed in life, by working hard and making good food at home.”
…but maybe not a fancy, expensive plaque worthy of Lohan’s tips.
David “My Magic Isn’t Exactly Magic Per Se” Blaine held his breath for a record-breaking 17 minutes and 4 seconds today, an achievement that was broadcast live on The Oprah Winfrey Show. Immediately after completing the mind-boggling task, Blaine told Winfrey that the accomplishment had “always been a lifelong dream.”
It all kind of reminded me of my early years of dating, when every guy I brought home had just gotten off of a tour vehicle of some sort or spent much of their free time peddling records and buying vintage cowboy shirts. They would always look, unsteadily, with four eyes or a smidge of eyeliner, at my dad and talk about their hopes for the future.
It often sounded an awful lot like this:
“I definitely want to like, manage a record shop.”
“We’re gonna sell a bunch of albums. Maybe go to Japan!”
“I’ll probably take some classes sometime.”
My dad would always raise his eyebrows in bewilderment and nod us off. I knew that with our backs turned he would be shaking his head at me, imagining his youngest daughter barefoot and pregnant alongside a 40-year old record store clerk. “These guys,” he would say later, “they have no ambition, no goals. What kind of future do you think they will have?”
I assume that if he heard about Blaine’s long-held ambitions he would scowl something in the same vein: “Holding his breath is his lifelong dream? Tell him to breathe and go to college, get a job!”
Or maybe just “I hate magic!”
Or maybe both.
“Hi Diana, it’s Mom. You never called me about those forms for your stocks. You need to do that before the end of the week. Don’t forget. You always wait until the last minute, that’s why you always end up making mistakes. Anyway. Just called to say hi. Are you traveling this weekend? If not, your aunt is having a birthday at the Seafood Palace on Sunday. Come at noon. It starts at one but you are always late. Make sure you leave LA with plenty of time to–”
“Hi Di. It’s Mom. Your Daddy says hello. We read in the paper today that Bill Gates is no longer the world’s richest man. He is the man that makes computers, right? My friends and I were very impressed by him. My friend from meditation practice was always thinking he is very handsome. Why do you think he lost his fortune? He probably got very lazy and then lost a lot of money. That is so bad, to fail at business. His parents must be very disppoint–”
“Anyway, Di, I’ll talk to you later. When you come down to visit, can you bring that movie you forgot to give me last time? Okay. And don’t forget to deal with those stocks today. Don’t wait. Like I told you before. Bye.”