You are currently browsing posts tagged with Weird Korean Behavior
really effin’ weird Korean dude has taken Diana’s idea of pillow-humping and done one better by marrying his. The bride is Fate Testarossa from the anime series Maho Shojo Ririkaru Nanoha. Fortunately, the pillow wasn’t a male character, because I hear there are laws against that.
I have so many questions about what horrible turns life has taken for one to get to this point, but mostly what I want to know is…
Filed under: Anime, Dakimakura, If People Can Marry Pillows Gay Marriage Has Got to Be Legal, Korean Nerd Marries Pillow, Man Marries Pillow, Pillow Humping, Twilight, Twilight Manllows, Weird Korean Behavior, Whatever Keeps You Warm at Night
…is that you can’t eat the sausage while you’re using it as a finger!
Lawd knows, sometimes a girl just wants to eat the sausage.
Filed under: Awesome Korean Behavior, Doodle Jump iPhone App, Eating Sausage, Innovasian, iPhone, MacGyver would be stoked about this, Sausage Party, Sausage Stylus, Snack Sausage, Weird Korean Behavior, Winter
The first time I saw this picture of The Fucking Lovely Salon, which sits in Itaewon district of Seoul, and was featured on Buzzfeed today, I thought: “How sweet!”
Because every person wants to look or feel at least a little bit lovely–lovely like arranged flowers, or a spring day, or the scent of a Sarah Jessica Parker perfume. Why not step that up a bit, and feel really fucking lovely? Sounds awesome!
But then I started to think about the times I’ve used the phrase “fucking lovely”–and I can’t say it’s ever been for anything good, pretty, scented, or sweet. In fact, it usually slips out of my mouth like this: “Oh! Well isn’t that fucking lovely?!”–accompanied by a scowl and an abrupt hand motion towards the fucking lovely thing in question–when something really crappy is happening:
Like when I see a parking ticket on my car.
Or an ex at a party.
Or dog shit on the sidewalk in front of my house.
Or two really hideous teenagers dry humping in the park.
Or a girl’s ass cheeks hanging out of the back of her skirt as she’s sitting down to dinner in an otherwise civilized restaurant.
Or some small-dicked asshole blowing through a stop sign when a little old Asian lady with a shopping cart is puttering across a crosswalk.
So maybe the cuts at The Fucking Lovely Salon aren’t that great. Unless dog shit on the sidewalk has changed.
After Dave Chappelle stopped doing Chappelle’s Show, he did an interview with Oprah to discuss what happened. There’s one quote in particular that has always stuck with me:
“There was a good-spirited intention behind it,” Dave says. “So then when I’m on the set, and we’re finally taping the sketch, somebody on the set [who] was white laughed in such a way—I know the difference of people laughing with me and people laughing at me—and it was the first time I had ever gotten a laugh that I was uncomfortable with. Not just uncomfortable, but like, should I fire this person?”
We laugh a lot here at DISGRASIAN, which can be a challenge when dealing with the arguably touchy subject of Disgrace. Sometimes laughter is the only answer when shit gets really dark–or, more importantly, when shit is just funny. And I’m no stickler for what exactly makes funny things funny, and I know that sometimes the “what” is a grey area.” But like Chappelle, I often find myself looking at tips from readers and thinking, that seems to be funny to everybody, but I’m not sure I’m so comfortable with why.
For instance, when I first saw this Internet gem, a Korean guy doing his rendition of Mariah Carey’s “Touch My Body”:
…it was too ridiculous to pass up. Ridiculous-funny. So I wrote about it.
But today, when somebody sent me the updated karaoke version of this video on YouTube, which subtitles the poor guy with the garbled nonsense it sounds like he’s saying (because he’s got an accent, and he’s singing in another language), I paused.
Why? Because I didn’t know if people digging this version are laughing with him or at him. At his Asianness. At his Koreanglish.
And that makes me feel funny.
Call us grinches, but as much as Jen and I love
presents the winter holidays, it’s unlikely that anybody’s going to get a personalized Season’s Greetings card from us this year. It’s not because we don’t like everybody, or that we can’t afford card stock, or that we don’t have a design aesthetic in mind. It’s just not likely. Here’s the truthier truth: I’m just not that kind of person–the kind that sends perfectly-penned handwritten thank-you notes after a dinner party, or puts updated photos of my friends’ children on my refrigerator. Frankly, I’m not even feeling all too festive this year. And maybe Jen is (she does write a lovely thank-you note), but, well, she’s a bit hampered by her partner in this situasian.
All points aside, I’d hate for you to spend the holiday season without proper joyous treats. So in the meantime, please enjoy Big Bang’s holiday Baskin Robbins spot (made in their homeland), to keep you in the jingly spirit:
Body Dysmorphic Syndrome and Plastic Surgery Addiction are no fucking joke.
And I’m not just saying that to YOU, Hollywood:
And let’s just multiply that bummer by about a million when we think about a beautiful young girl, who, at 28, started in on the alterasians:
…and over two decades, became so desperate to keep mangling herself that she eventually began injecting herself with doctor-provided silicone.
And when she ran out of silicone, she just started using cooking oil.
And now, she looks like this:
Which is sad and… scary.
World, we have a problem.
First we hear that Kim Jong Il has been dead since 2003. Then we hear he had an incapacitating stroke, a fact that North Korea denied today. So what gives? And more importantly, who’s minding the nukes right now?
Did something get lost in translasian during this interview with Time magazine or does Korean pop star Rain sound a lot like Patrick Bateman (as played by my boyfriend Christian Bale) in American Psycho?
When he asks the interviewer, “Do you know kimchi? It’s perrrfect. It’s amazing,” I half-expected him to bust out a chainsaw!
As a public high school graduate, I didn’t know what a prep school was until I went to college and found myself surrounded by kids who had gone to Exeter, Andover, and St. Paul’s, among others. I quickly learned that being a graduate of one of these elite schools meant you were better prepared to write a 5-page paper on, say, homoeroticism in The Iliad, more predisposed to wearing fleece, obsessed with being “mellow,” well-versed in “lax” (i.e. lacrosse), a lover or hater of the Dead; someone who used “summer” as a verb, was attracted to people in baggy pants, had an elaborate eating disorder, knew how to ski, and owned a bong or two.
Yesterday, the NY Times published a front-page story on first-tier Korean prep schools that serve as Ivy feeders, and they sound just as fun. Some of the things these schools have to offer:
The New York Times published a story yesterday about a boot camp in South Korea called “Jump Up Internet Rescue School,” which purports to cure young web addicts. All the unhappy campers at this Outward Bound-ish rehab are teenage boys.
One fifteen year-old, Lee Chang-hoon, who was sent to this camp because he was on the internet 17 hours a day, was described as “wet and shivering” during one exercise where he had to climb a telephone pole:
At the top, [Chang-hoon] slowly stood up, legs quaking, arms outstretched for balance. Below, the other boys held a safety rope attached to a harness on his chest.
“Do you have anything to tell your mother?” the drill instructor shouted from below.
“No!” he yelled back.
“Tell your mother you love her!” ordered the instructor.
“I love you, my parents!” he replied.
“Then jump!” ordered the instructor. Chang-hoon squatted and leapt to a nearby trapeze, catching it in his hands.
Geez. Talk about some Hardass Asian In Loco Parentis. Sure, some of these dudes sound like they got social probs, but aren’t they on the computer 17 hours a day because they haven’t gotten laid and are funneling their sexual frustrasians into WoW?
A better idea is to introduce these fellas to some ladies. Real live ones instead of those anime porn stars with circus tits that they “play” with online. The camp could teach them useful things like how to chat a girl up, properly use tongue, and unhook a complicated bra. Kinda like The Pick-Up Artist for teens. But instead, these poor guys are forced to stroke telephone poles? Aren’t they doing enough of that already?
The Daily Telegraph reported yesterday that Kim Jong-Be-Illin’ has banned smoking in Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, due to the fact that he had major heart surgery in May, which was due to the fact that, for most of his life, the dude has famously binged on food, drunk copious amounts of liquor, and smoked a ton.
First Illin’ bans karaoke and internet cafes, and now this?
(special thanks to Thomas for the special effects)
I think we all knew in our hearts and minds that it was only a matter of time before Kim Jong-Be-Illin’ would be named DOTW. But which offense, exactly, would we nail him for?
All of his posturing over nuclear testing and disarmament?
Or how about when he halted reunions between divided families in North and South Korea, because South Korea imposed food sanctions on NK under international pressure?
Or maybe just because the dude’s steez reminds us of a sad-sack, out-of-work, hardcore porn producer grinding out low-budge movies in his garage with its blacked-out windows in never-beautiful Van Nuys, California?
All of the aforementioned offenses are criminal, but it was this straw that broke the disgrasianamel’s back: “Nation bans karaoke bars, Internet cafes?”
SEOUL (Reuters) – North Korea’s security agency has ordered the shutdown of karaoke bars and Internet cafes, saying they are a threat to society, a South Korean newspaper reported Wednesday.
Exqueeze me?!? There are two major muthafuckin problems with this.
1) No one in North Korea can read DISGRASIAN.
2) After everything that Illin’ and Illin’ Sr. have put North Koreans through–war, famine, deprivasian, separasian, and global isolasianism–they’re not allowed to blow off steam comme ça?
bitchin’ karaoke photo by Michael Rababy