You are currently browsing posts tagged with Grandmas

Wanna Know What Diana Will Be Doing In 50 Years…

June 8th, 2010 | 6 comments | Posted by Diana

…besides writing her 53,271st DISGRASIAN post? Probably cheering, like the fine ladies (average age: 66) of Japan Pom Pom:

I PRAY that the Japan Pom Pom squad still exists in fifty years, and they that will accept a clumsy/mildly overweight (I expect to eat many, many, many boxes of Kyochon fried chicken over the next few decades) Vietnamese American girl into their awesomely glittery clique… although Jen would probably argue that I’m already an old lady with a wig collection, pair of broken-in poms, fondness for sparkly outfits, and mean high kick—so why not just try out now?

Hunh. I just might. And if they won’t have me, maybe I’ll just go out for old lady drill team.

See Japan Pom Pom’s moves here.

[via OMG Blog]
[Reuters: Cheering On An Aging Japan]

Thanks, Chris!

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Somebody, Please Teach Lohan The Look Of Shame

October 20th, 2009 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

In my most shameful of moments, I once received a boot on my car.

Not my boot. Or my car. But you get the picture.

And, okay, it wasn’t that long ago.

Fine, FINE. I deserved it. I’d racked up about five parking tickets in one month, and each little slip quickly got lost somewhere in my junk mail, or my trunk, or my purse–every one of them crispy with dried coffee stains and dirty from, ah, me stamping them with fury into the ground. Out of sight, out of my busy muthafuckin’ mind! I kinda assumed that the parking gods would just take care of it and I wouldn’t have to pony up $160 overdue bucks a pop.

Wrongo! They didn’t. So one day, I got the boot.

Now here’s the thing. I’m troublesome, but I never get in trouble–and certainly, not with the LAW. This was the worst moment of my life. I felt like a criminal. I didn’t know what to do or how to handle the situation. Was this going on my permanent record? Would I have to pay my fines or face jail? Do they flog you when they return to remove the boot? Why was it so ORANGE? Where was my lawyer? Was I a bad person now?

And my gosh, the large orange mark of shame somehow negated all of the coolness of my slick black car paint and rad Steelers license plate frame! ACK!

Most importantly: WOULD THE TERRIBLE PEOPLE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE BOOT TELL MY PARENTS (who I haven’t lived with since age 17)?!??!

I called the number, my heart racing. The mean old lady on the phone told me come down to some super-secret government/law/prison/clerical (it all sounds the same to me) office, where I would meet my reckoning.

Immediately, I raced to my closet, trying to imagine the outfit that would best convey my a) intense, due shame b) willingness to turn my life around c) overall good citizenship and d) inability (okay, lack of desire) to pay the fines in full. After much deliberation, I landed on a modest, sensible, not-too-luxe getup that screamed “I’m a non-profit librarian and devoted disadvantaged youth volunteer!”

I showed up at the office–which turned out to be administrative, with no armed guards flanking the entrance. I took a number, walked up to the window, gave her a bunch of money. The (different) mean lady at the window informed me that the boot would soon be taken off, and I was all set–I would not be arrested or even given a talking-to by the police. Sure enough, twenty minutes later, the orange boot of shame was gone–like a whisper in the wind.

I can’t help but think that dressing the part, showing how ashamed I was for being bad, kinda stood for something. Sure, the responsible garb didn’t garner any discount from The Man that day, nor did it save me from a ritual beating (shockingly, people don’t get beaten over parking tickets–although maybe they should?), but it did tacitly express deep remorse for my wrongdoings when I walked into the building. That counts, somehow. At a certain point, we’ve got to just tuck our tail between our legs, bow our heads, and admit that we’ve done something wrong. We’re not loud and proud and wrong, we’re just wrong. That makes it, y’know, better.

Perhaps this is why, when I eyed Lindsay Lohan’s “look” for her court appearance last week (to discuss violation of her probation), I was taken aback.

Who appears before a judge looking like…

…a cracked out, greasy-haired…

…Atlantic City…

Moreover, a not sorry one?

Fortunately, for Lindsay, celebrities don’t have to be sorry. We’ll still keep “rooting for them” and extending their probation.

[Reuters: Judge Extends Probation For Lindsay Lohan]

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Motherf*cker Means Mother and Father, Right? [VIDEO]

July 30th, 2009 | 0 comments | Posted by Jen

Dude. I always thought that my brother and I were evil for calling our grandma “Wipes” (that’s short for “Wai Puo,” or maternal grandmother). But this guy “K-Dawg,” who teaches his Chinese grandma how to say “Fuck you,” “Bullshit,” and “Motherfucker,” is going straight to hell in a hilarious handbasket:

File this under Lost in Translationanigans!

[via Neatorama via I have seen the whole of the internet]

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Weight, Wha??

December 15th, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

I just read that South Korean pop star Lee Hyori, who stands 5’4½” , recently revealed her weight of 53 kg (about 116 lbs) on the Korean variety show Family Outings. Those on the show apparently gasped! 53 kg indeed! In typical Hardass Asian fashion, the producers then had guest star Lee Su-Kyong (5’5″) step on the scale for comparison–her 101 lbs return was received much more kindly.

The shocker of Lee’s big “weight” is now hot blog news. What a fatty! …My jaw is on the floor, guys. I mean, huh?

Mind you, by pretty much all weight indexes, the minimum healthy weight for someone a half-inch shorter than Lee would be 116 lbs., and anything below that worthy of some concern. Take a look at her, in the photo to the left (ignore the fact that her right arm appears to be missing and that she’s wearing a flapper shirt as a dress). The girl is healthy, and borderline too-tiny. So why the gasps? I expect that kind of scrutiny from cruel little hens like my grandma and aunts, not cool kids in the blogosphere!

This whole episode is hammering me with flashbacks from my one traumautic experiment in pageant competition–wherein my competitors and I were required to parade down the catwalk while being introduced. Correction: while being introduced and having our respective heights and weights announced over the mic. I stand 5’8″–about a head taller than almost all of the other contestants–and even at my broke-collegiate-biking-and-walking-everywhere-cuz-I-couldn’t-afford-gas-for-my-compact-car weight of 127 lbs (a number I now laugh at in my far-too-wealthy-or-at-least-hungry-or-ok-I’m-old-and-busy-and-hate-exercising-too-much-to-be-skinny stage), my weight was digits above all of the other 93 lb midges in the quest for the crown. They were horrified by the sound of “hundred something pounds.” They all begged me to lie–”It sounds better,” they urged. “Just say 99.”

I couldn’t say “99.” I was too proud. The girl before me, a sweet, doe-eyed thing that was about 5’9″, maybe 160 lb, walked up on the stage and I listened for her numbers overhead. The announcer’s voice boomed: “Five-foot-nine, and ninety-nine pounds.” The audience clapped politely, taking no notice. I heard my name and stepped up for my turn.

“Five-foot-eight, and one-hundred twenty-five pounds (Yes, I lied a little).” I could’ve sworn I heard him chuckle.

The audience gasped. In the far back corner of the room, I saw my grandma smack her forehead with her soft, wrinkled, jade-baubled hand.

And as you probably remember, I didn’t make it to the pageant semi-finals. Was it because of the gasps? I’ll never know. But I wouldn’t be surprised–just like I’m not surprised that all of these blog hawks jumped on this little pop star. Of course they gasp! After all, THEY ALL SUCK.

Source Source Source Source Source

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DISGRASIAN OF THE WEAK! Grannies and Labor Camps Go Together Like Ramma Lamma Lamma Ka Dinga Da Dinga Dong

August 22nd, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Jen
Wu Dianyuan and Wang Xiuying

I don’t know about you, but when I hear the word “grandma,” I don’t think about knitting needles or freshly-baked cookies, I think “labor camp.” That’s because my great-grandmother spent her last years, almost up to her death, in a Chinese labor camp, or “re-education camp,” depending on your semantic inclinations.

You see, my great-grandma was a corrupt landowner, and when the Communists took over China in 1949, her privileged old ass needed to be re-educated. Her re-education included having her ancestral home taken away from her, hard labor, and torture, er, I mean, teaching. Unlike other members of my family, great-grandma couldn’t leave the country for Taiwan or Hong Kong because her feet were bound. (Sucks for her!) But I’m pretty sure that once she was re-educated, the government showed great-grandma how even those bound feet were made for walkin’. Her re-education package also included being rendered blind, which seems fitting for an old lady who couldn’t “see” the error of her disgusting, capitalist ways and who never saw her husband, children, or grandchildren again after ’49, save for one daughter.

I thought the era of putting grandmothers in labor camps was over, but then I heard about Beijing grannies Wu Dianyuan, 79, and Wang Xiuying, 77, getting sentenced to one year in a re-education camp for filing applications to hold a legal protest. Before the Olympics, Chinese officials promised to allow protests in three city parks so long as protesters filed an application first. So far, none of the 77 applications have been approved. Wu and Wang, who are lifelong friends, applied five times to protest the fact that they have not received compensation for the demolition of their homes, bulldozed seven years ago to make room for new developments.

Like seasoned criminals, these two agitators, who both walk with the assistance of a cane, deny any wrongdoing:

What crime have we committed?” said Wang, as the two lifetime friends let out a burst of laughter.

“We never committed any crime when we were young. Now we are so old we can’t even speak clearly. How can we possibly commit a crime?“

Wang says that the two will keep “disturbing public order” (the official charge) and she’ll even refuse to serve her labor camp sentence.

Clearly, these two grey-haired revolutionaries are in desperate need of re-education. Daring to legally protest in a country that said a few weeks ago it would permit legal protests? That practically sounds like a threat to overthrow the government! Chinese officials should put their old anarchic asses in a labor camp before those biddies start a trend! Make them see the error of their ways until Wang, who is blind in one eye, and Wu are cleansed of their putrid, Westernized ideals! If they have to be made completely blind and crippled–like my great-grandmother–to learn their lesson, sucks for them!


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August 15th, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

On ABC’s This Week, which aired on Sunday, Cokie Roberts criticized Senator Obama for taking a week of much-needed downtime in Hawaii, because, y’know, vacationing near his 85 -year-old grandmother in the place of his upbringing makes him look even more elitist.

She continued to explain why renting a reasonably-priced private house on Oahu–which we’ll have you know boasts a Bubba Gump, Sizzler, Bank of America, Wal-Mart, and over 10 McDonalds locations (dudes, we’re talking on one island!)–should have been shunned in favor of, say, Myrtle Beach. Lawd knows that beaching in the Cowolinas is so much more everyman:

“Going off this week to vacation in Hawaii does not make any sense whatsoever. I know his grandmother lives in Hawaii, and I know Hawaii is a state, but it has the look of him going off to some sort of foreign, exotic place. He should be in Myrtle Beach… if he’s going to take a vacation at this time.”

She then continued to say, “All those brown people and their coconuts really fucking freak me out. I hear they put spirits in the poi (whatever that shit is), too, and they don’t even accept the good ol’ American dollar. They barter with shells and sacrifice. Thank heavens Myrtle Beach is mostly blacks and whites, all those Polynesians and Hispanics really muck up the water in all of the playas on the Pacific.”*

We have to ask: where the hell do these middle-minded TV pundits come from, anyway?? Does Cokie not know what a gherkin is, either?

*This was not actually said on camera. We cannot confirm that Roberts was actually responsible for this quote, because there is no written proof. So sue us.


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ROCK OF ASIAN: Justin Nozuka

May 21st, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

Try as I might to convince you to do otherwise, some of y’all are simply not going to burn your Jack Johnson, John Mayer (sure he’s got finger-lickin axe skills, but is why does he insist on using them on an inane blog and brainless celebrity girlfriends?), Josh Groban, James Blunt, assorted other J-name singer-songwriter-guitarist grandma-masturbation-material albums. Fine. That’s fine.

So I’m going to hop in the train for a moment here and introduce you to the one cute cute cutey J-name that we do actually happen to like: Justin Nozuka.

Go ahead… watch… listen…

…you love him, right? So does your grandma.

Thanks, jRu!

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SPORTS ILLUSTRASIAN: Sam "I Am…Jen’s Grandma" Cassell

February 29th, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Jen

Hi Sam!

Duuude. I’m so pissed that the Clips let you go. As some people know, you bear an uncanny resemblance to my wai puo and I just, like, love you for that. All of these sports writers are now calling you “injury-prone” and old, which may be true, but shoot, so is grandma, and when it’s time for her to suit up and get her mah-jong game on, she brings it and cleans her friends’ clocks. I know you’re cut from the same cloth. So do the Celtics, apparently, which is a helluva step up from the Clips. Who are now dead to me.

See you in the Eastern Conference finals, Sam-ma!

familially yours,


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Third place? Ya mean, "First Loser to the First Loser?"

January 29th, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

Dear Mr. Giuliani,

What’s happening? I know you’re very busy hanging out in Florida right now, but I wanted to drop you a line and show a little moral support tonight, on what truly might be one of the most lackluster and disappointing nights of your political career.

I’m gonna give you a little advice. When I was in high school, I became a competitive long-distance runner. Not a great one, not even really a good one. I was already good at lots of things– long jumping, spelling, speaking, whatever, but not running.

I once made the mistake of inviting some family members to a track meet to see me compete; I thought the cheering would give me endurance. Instead, as I huffed and puffed my way towards two six-minute miles, I found myself making the eight loops around the track to the tune of my hulkish older cousin Michael’s booming voice. He would heckle me each time I lunged for the straightaway: “GO FASTER!!! YOU’RE LOSING!!!”

At that point I vowed never again to invite family members to an event I wasn’t going to win.

See, this is kind of where you’ve gone wrong. Not only have you put all your nominasian-seeking eggs in one gross, balmy, Floridian basket–you guaranteed a win in tonight’s primary and told the entire free world to watch!! Are you some kind of masochist? What do you think your mother thought when she read this [sub-]headline??

Here, I’ll tell you what my grandma thought: “(clucking tongue)Ayy-ya, Giu-yani so shame, he not even first loser. He COMPETE to be second loser!”

Then again, I’m pretty sure my grandma would spit on a bronze medal. But there you go.

Save a little face, Rudes. Maybe it’s time to call it a day.



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Bag It Up, Bag It In, Let Me Begin

January 9th, 2008 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

A new step for Project: Clean Up China* Before Everyone Gets Here For the Olympics And Calls It A Dirty Shithole, has been announced. Thin plastic bags will be banned in the country come June 1st.

Frankly, I don’t know how anybody’s grandma will tie up their tupperware leftovers with such a ban (Mine has a wonderful technique: place tupps in used plastic bag, tie once, tie again with just a little nub loose–not a knot–so that the whole bundle can be easily released, presto!), but there you go. These grandmas are gunna have to git with the Enviro-program!

Anyhoozle, We are just absolutely thrilled to hear of this development. We may not all live in China, but for once, let’s all follow suit. You can buy a Canvas tote (we like the Ditty Bops’ version, cuz it’s cute and cool just like them) here, or might we suggest holding your groceries in your arms “like the Cavemen did.” Could be really fun, in that “throwback” way.

Source Source Source
*not actually an official Project

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Lap It Up, Grandma

November 28th, 2007 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

Tila Tequila has never failed to confirm that she has a cache of truly great talents:

1) squooshing her boobs together

2) walking and breathing at the same time

3) laying around

4) inciting disapproval and shame in
my parents, who have never met her, but would give anything to whomp her hand with a chopstick, make her sit in the corner, and rip up her Madonna records

5) pole dancing/lap dancing

She seemed especially eager to confirm her aptitude in the latter during the most recent “meet the parents” episode of A Shot At Love, in which she sought to impress her gal’s family with a cheery lap dance for Grandma:

Wow. Class and Sass, all the way. Oops, I mean ASS AND BLELEGLGHHGHGHGHGHHGG (which doesn’t rhyme, but not even Chaucer could rhyme after witnessing this abomination). I guess I’ll join Jen today and fuggedabout lunch.

Thanks, Tila. Thanks a-fucking lot.

jRu, you da man!

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You’re Asian Fast

August 14th, 2007 | 0 comments | Posted by Diana

GODDAMN YOU Access Hollywood!! You damn near killed me with this headline:

But now that I think about it…

…I kind of see how it could work.


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