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DIANA: OMG, JEN. OMG. Did you hear about that jungle Asian lady in OC that chopped her estranged husband’s dick off and threw it in the garbage disposal? Er, allegedly?
JEN: Diana, everyone‘s heard about Catherine Kieu Becker! She’s the Dick Disposer!
DIANA: I thought of you, you know. As soon as I read the story, I thought of you.
JEN: Because I’ll cut your goddamn dick off if you fuck with me?
DIANA: Well, yeah.
JEN: That’s so sweet.
DIANA: YOU’RE so sweet, knife lady!
JEN: Aw, doll. You flatter me so.
DIANA: But I mean, she threw it down a GARBAGE DISPOSAL! Holy shit.
JEN: She meant business! “No dick-respect or anything…”
DIANA: They had to fish the pieces out and send ‘em to the hospital! I bet they were all gross and covered with hair and disposal gunk!
JEN: Maybe some onion peels and little bits of rice.
DIANA: EWW. Don’t you think that’s a little much?
JEN: Hard to say because I wasn’t there, but it’s certainly very thorough.
Loretta Sanchez, Blue Dog Dem incumbent representing California’s 47th Congressional District, would like to introduce her new web series*, How To Lose Votes And Alienate People. Here’s the first installation, pulled from a recent interview on Univisión’s Al Punto show:
Well shit, man. If I didn’t know any better, I’d venture that Sanchez’s eyebrows were–with an intensity–trying to cultivate a race war in Orange County. Those eyebrows betta hope this Vietnamese lady doesn’t come across them in a dark alley while packing Tweezerman Luxe Edition Swarovski® Crystal Slant® tweezers anytime soon. AND THAT IS NOT AN EMPTY THREAT!
*not an actual web series
Filed under: Anti-Latino, Blue Dog Democrats, Boat People, CA 47th Congressional District, Calling Immigrants Anti-Immigrant, Community, Congress, Don't Fuck With Jungle Asians, Drivel, Dumb Democrats, Dummyheads, Eyebrows That Frighten Me, Fools, Jungle Asians, Loretta Sanchez, Making Van Tran's Campaign Easy, Orange County, Race Wars, Really? There's No Better Option Than This Bitch?, The Vietnamese, Univision, Van Tran, Vietnamese Community, What If The Shoe Were On The Other Foot?, Xenophobia
Filed under: Adorable-ness, Cuteness, Dance Wid Me, Indie Bands, Indie Pop, Kollaboration, Nerd Pop, New York, No Doubt, NY Kollaboration 2010, Orange County, Paperdoll, Pop Music, Save Ferris, Ska, Teresa
I’ll be honest. For about three weeks, when not busy playing Beatles Rock Band*, I’ve been dusting off old and also sorta-oldish punk albums, to give them a good spin–providing a soundtrack for the month’s chaos and all of my nervous holiday energy.
“Punk” coming out of my speakers can mean a lot of things–sometimes the herky jerk of Bad Brains or Black Flag, sometimes a fun romp with the Ramones, Fugazi if I’m feeling fresh, Stooges if I’m not. And… okay. I’ve also been indulging my Orange County roots with bad 90′s power punk that will go unnamed to preserve my innocence.
What I’d not even thought to entertain, at least until this week, were all of the fun Japanese punk bands that I meant to fall in love with twenty years ago but didn’t because I was in elementary school without an Internet connection. Take, for example, The Predators, who I’m listening to right now (via MySpace recommendation by Japanese alt-veterans, The Pillows).
Filed under: Awesome Japanese Bands, Bad Brains, Black Flag, Chaos, Fugazi, Japan, Japanese Bands, Memory Lane, Nostalgia, Nostalgiasian, Orange County, Punk Rock, Punk's Not Dead, Punks, Soundtracks, The Clash, The Holidays, The Predators, The Ramones, The Stooges
Thank you for taking Gwen Stefani off our hands this summer. And by off our hands, we mean touring with her and making a new album together, thereby preventing her from doing something foolish and godawful on her own, like parading around with her four matchy-matchy Harajuku Slaves or doing another solo record of lobotomizing tunage that serves no discernible purpose other than to fill the void during a 30-second timeout at a Laker game (some of which you’re responsible for, but let’s just pretend we don’t know that). You’re doing us–and, we like to think, the world–a HUGE solid.
Oh, and happy 39th birthday, too!
Our friend Raymond sent over this local Fox News piece, broadcast live (no idea why) from one of Garden Grove, CA’s newest and hottest Vietnamese alternatives to Starbucks: Cafe Di Vang 2.
I know what y’all expect from me: an angry, shame-filled tirade. I know, I know… there’s so much innuendo in this news piece alone–Vietnamese ladies in “high heels and revealing outfits?” Providing “quality service?” Plenty scandalous. Probably pretty bad for the collective rep of my peeps. Hey, these comfort cafes are nothing new in Little Saigon. But whatever.
All I’ve got to say is wow, they can get dudes in these economic times to pay 6 bucks for a smoothie and $4 for a nonrefillable coffee? Dayum, these ladies must be doing something right. Whatever that something may be.
Filed under: "Service", Asian Hooters, Bikinis, Coffee Houses, Economic Crisis, Fake Tits, Garden Grove, Hooters, Innuendo, Orange County, Same Ol' Same Ol', Theme Cafes, Weird Vietnamese-American Behavior
As a former Miss Little Saigon USA 2000 pageant mega-loser, I feel I can speak with some expertise on the matter of beauty pageants for Vietnamesers, staged in Orange County.
My god, how it pains me to admit publicly that I speak on this subject from a place of experience. But I do–and my experience (Listen, I swear this is not sour grapes talking) was just plain sketchy: backstage cheating, suspicious fraternization between contestants and judges, dubious scoring techniques, the works.
I would never contest that these contests are fair. But I must say, when I learned that last year’s Miss Vietnam USA (a different pageant, I think?) just waged a lawsuit against the organizers for allegedly flaking on her $10,000 cash prize and defaulting on the payments for her prize Mercedes, I immediately sided with her. I also thought:
Damn. These pageants way more fucked-up than I imagined.
And those, my friends, are two sentences I never thought I would hear myself, uh, think.
Filed under: Cash Prizes, Flaking, Fucked Up Shit, Lawsuits, Mercedes, Miss Little Saigon USA, Miss Vietnam, Miss Vietnam USA, Orange County, Pageants Are a Joke, Strange Vietnamese Behavior, Vietnamesers
Remember when we said that stealing from your people is a crime beyond shame? We didn’t think that we’d be using our next breath to chastise one of our own peeps, financial manager Danny Pang of Irvine, CA, for allegedly defrauding investors–many from Taiwan and Orange County’s Yellow Belt–out of hundreds of millions of dollars using a life insurance ponzi scheme.
Look, we’re not even talking about the fact that Pang’s former business partner is suing for $50 million and adding loudly to the Ponzi scheme accusations. We don’t feel the need to mention that he apparently lied to investors about his C.V., saying he possessed degrees that didn’t exist. We’ll ignore the highly irrelevant fact that the 1997 murder of Pang’s ex-stripper wife remains unresolved, and that he has been portrayed in court “as a shady businessman and high-stakes gambler [with evidence of] …ties to Taiwanese mobsters.”
Because even though the S.E.C. has temporarily frozen assets managed by Pang, and officially accused him of Fraud, he may very well turn out to be innocent.
That said: if he doesn’t turn out to be innocent, boy, will we be tearing him a new one.
Dusty Rhodes and the River Band, are, for a fact, too young to sound as soulful and scratchy as they do. Yet somehow, belying their Orange County upbringing and minimal years, they manage to summon the wild, weathered spirit of a raucous, shoreline, rip-roarin’, bluegrass, rock ‘n roll hoedown–the stuff usually reserved for good ol’ boys with tangled beards, whiskey-stained leather goods, and a bargain with the Devil.
We never thought we’d say this, but we love their classic-rock-with-a-hipster-swill blend. Guzzle a track down with us, will ya?
Gwen Stefani’s ska-pop launching pad, No Doubt, has announced an official reunion tour (via an unlikely iChat conversation) on their official website.
That’s good news for those of us who holiday-skanked to “Oi to the World” during the mid-nineties, cry whenever they listen to the lyrics of “Bathwater,” have a crush on Tony Kanal, or are willing to forgive a band of Orange County brats that traveled to the islands, messed around with a few steel drums, emerged with a record splattered with grafitti font, and called the whole damn thing Rock Steady as if it could embody the spirit of a whole genre. Good news. Great news!
But bad news indeed for a couple of silent Harajuku Girls, who, now out of work, might finally have a reason to look so glum:
TMZ just discovered that Joe Son, the actor who played Dr. Evil’s henchman Random Task in Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, has been linked to an unsolved, violent, Christmas Eve gang rape of an Orange County woman in 1990. Son is being charged with five felony counts of rape, two felony counts of forcible sodomy, two felony counts of sodomy in concert by force, seven felony counts of forcible oral copulation, and one felony count of sexual penetration by foreign object by force.
According to TMZ, Son was connected to the crime after pleading guilty for a non-violent felony offense:
Son pleaded guilty back in May to felony vandalism. The plea required him to fork over a DNA sample. Investigators ran his sample and found Son’s DNA connected him to an unsolved gang rape back in 1990, where a woman was pistol-whipped, raped, threatened with death and eventually blindfolded and released naked.
These offenses are revolting. If Son is found guilty, we would like to ask that he kindly step down as a member of the Asian race. After all, he sounds like no son of ours.
Growing up SoCal style in Orange County, one is forced to at all times have an acute awareness and even physical proximity to the Haven of All Happiness, Disneyland. Tucked in between the baseball stadium, orange groves, train tracks, and strip malls of Anaheim, Disneyland may be just another fun amusement park to the average tourist–but for local teens, the place is (or was, in my day) the stuff of dreams: you could actually work at the Happiest Place On Earth! And if you did, you could actually make more than minimum wage, see inside Minnie Mouse’s suit, walk the secret tunnels from Tomorrowland to Frontierland, or lose your virginity in the People Mover. Good stuff!
Some of these jobs, however, were not so happy. Back in the day, I knew an unfortunate few whose not-so-happy duties included following the Main Street horses around the park (see photo, above), all the live-long afternoon, waiting, just waiting in case of a CODE BROWN.
What’s CODE BROWN, you ask?
Why, a pile of horse shit (the real stuff, not just what Dana Perino barfs up every day):
In response to a CODE BROWN, a group of young workers must circle the…er…brown, mask their behavior, collect and dispose of it without ruining a child’s day/fantasy vacation/photo-op with Daffy or allowing an angry, obese lady with an unusually loud voice to step in anything that has been evacuated from horse bowels.
It’s a–pardon the pun–shit job. And I’ve always kinda thought that following a bunch of sad, trained, slow-moving horses (on the hottest of days, at the most saccharine of Main streets, surrounded by the loudest of kids and smelliest of tourists), just walking alongside and waiting for them to defecate all day just so one can clean all of the shit up…sounded like, basically, the worst possible job (well-digging, Nike factory labor, and prostitution notwithstanding).
Until, of course, I realized that somebody has to impersonate a monkey pest for a living. Imprimate, I mean.
What a weird, fucked-up, monkey job.