I want to live on the big screen

"A movie is great if it can illicit an emotional response from the viewer"

I don't know if anybody actually said that quote, but if no one has, than I said it.

After I watched Transformers in the theater, I came home REALLY depressed. In fact, I may have been welling up in the eyes a bit. My wife asked me what was going on. I told her that I was sad that Transformers weren't real and that my life sucked because I'm not friends with Optimus Prime.

We went to the store and she let me buy some Transformers to make me feel better.

Nobody loves me, everybody hates, I guess I'll go get drunk

Apparently the only person who has commented on my blog was my own wife and after reading my blog, she's pretty sure I'm insane.

I just realized the comments link wasn't working correctly (thanks blogger). Try it now. If it doesn't work, disable (or add my domain) your pop up blocker.

I eat Lam(b)

I always had this thing against eating lamb. I felt it was a bit cannibalistic since I'm a Lam (no "b"). In fact, I wouldn't go into the wool store at the mall where all of the products were made from lambs because the thought of seeing my distant cousin hanging on a clothing rack made me shiver.

About a year ago, my mother-in-law wanted to make me a birthday dinner and had a nice lamb she wanted to cook. I wasn't enthusiastic about it but I wanted to be polite. My wife ended up telling her the reason why I was apprehensive about eating lamb. I wasn't sure if the look was of confusion or more of "why did you marry this guy".

So I ate the lamb. Everybody said it was delicious (cringe). Being that I never had lamb before, I wasn't sure what to expect. I excused myself from the table after the second bite, ran into the bathroom, and licked my arm to see if there was any resemblance in taste. I swear to you that it was so similar, I challenge you to lick my arm and compare.

Friends Forever

To keep my sanity at work, I email my friends outside of this company. Last week, I began to question whether that technique was working. I changed the names in the email to protect the innocent. (But if you try really hard, you'd figure it out)

ME: Have you guys ever questioned your sanity?

C: Have you ever met me? I'd be insane not to.

K: I think only ever twice. One of which was recent. Why?

ME: I read through some old blog posts from an old blog I used to maintain. I should be given a straight jacket. C, I blame you for the fact that I should be committed.

C: That's like blaming the distiller when you get a DUI.

ME: Do you think they make duo straight jackets so that we can be liked conjoined twins?

C: That would be awesome. Together forever.

ME: Matching tattoo time?


K: Is [my wife] okay with the fact that you two are clearly gay for each other?

And mind you, I'm married...to a woman.

I can kick higher than you can kick

I took Tae Kwon Do when I was 12. I chose this martial arts form because it was the cheapest and my parents instilled in me that saving money was more important than picking a martial arts that better suited me. I lasted a few years until my desire to stay at home during the week night to watch "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air" overcame my desire to whoop some ass.

When I was in college, I wanted to get in shape so I took Goju Ryu from Sensei Chinen, the only guy to ever make Chuck Norris cry. Sensei Chinen was so awesome that he recognized my skillz early on, and therefore, relentlessly picked on me. The one lesson I will always remember is this: just because I think I'm bad ass doesn't mean I really am.

You know what's also a good lesson? Taking martial arts doesn't mean you know how to fight. I know a few people who have taken martial arts for the better part of a decade. Yeah, they have great confidence and great form technique, but let's face it, what they know is confined by the rules of tournament combat.

In a real world fight, there's no ref to signal a stop. There's not rules of combat. Just the desire to survive. That's why if Chuck Norris hid a rock of meth in his butt crack, Crystal-Meth Tweaker > Chuck Norris.

I write for the universe

I'm pretty sure no one has read my blog. In an odd way, its refreshing. I can say something like:

I had a dream in which Big Foot killed a giant albino alligator and forced Ronald McDonald to skin it and wear it because Big Foot had a clown - albino alligator fetish.

And nobody will judge me for having this dream.

Cook me some pho

If you haven't sleuthed my blog title, pho is a Vietnamese rice noodle soup. It's about as traditional Vietnamese as most Americans are willing to try (although YOU may be the exception). My friends and I like to see the different variations with the word "pho" that we could include in the name of our future pho restaurant:

- Pho-get About It
- Pho King Specials (we actually used this as a team name)
- Pho Me? No Pho You!
- What the pho?

Jimmy Chew shows you how to make pho here (CAUTION: profanity and probably NSFW):

Digital Leash

I was recently given a work phone to carry around. To be exact, its a Blackberry Tour. The phone is pretty spectacular, although I am not as enthusiastic about it as my coworker who was also bequeathed one - probably because my personal phone is an iPhone.

I spent the two hours with it sitting on my desk, in it's box. I wasn't sure what to do with it. Its not like I was scared of it or anything, I just had this underlying fear that I would succumb to the Crackberry phenomenon.

People with this addiction would make you believe their Blackberries' are an extension of their professional persona. They were given the absolute power to respond to emails from virtually anywhere:

Me: Hey John, can you swing by my office to pick up the Alaska file?
John: n a bit, i m in the bthrm
Me: Ok, I'll just catch you later
John: no, no, its kewl, i'll stop by when i m done

My next present to John is going to be a package of sanitizing wipes for his phone.

How to make a box from a bigger box (boxlings)

I tried shipping something today in a used Dell box that someone left in a conference room. It had tape on it that said “if this seal is broken, inspect contents before accepting”. At the mention of breaking a seal, I stopped on my way back and used the bathroom.

I went back to my office and placed my item in the box, taped it up, slapped on my shipping label and went to the post office. The lady behind the counter said she wouldn’t take it because I already broke the seal (I think a little pee may have slipped out).

I went back and searched all three floors that we occupy and finally conned IT to giving me another box (Amazon, not Dell). The problem was it was too big. So I lit a candle, put on some Barry Manilow, and channeled my inner MacGyver. I managed to cut and fold the box into the right size (although none of the corners are a true square). Four layers of tape later, I was done. I reslapped on my shipping label and trotted down to the post office to show off what I made during arts and craft time. Too bad they were closed for lunch.

And so it begins

I rejoin the world of blogging today. One of my resolutions was to start a blog and actively update it. While I was using Facebook as a micro-blog, you can only enter in so much into that itty-bitty status field. Here, I have the full glory of unlimited space to entertain you. So whether you visit once or often, stayed tuned...