Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Random Kingdom Nation #2

This is only an experiment. I am posting this picture from the train on my way home. Does it work? We'll see!

Keeping up with the Joneses,


Sunday, March 22, 2009

If The Shoes and Hats Fit

In need of some new shoes for the Orlando trip, I went shopping in the O.C. last night with Erico Suave and MacArthur.

The first mission was to buy a fedora. I never met a fedora that I could make work, but I was determined to force one to. At Urban Outfitters, it just so happened that all fedoras were $20! Score. So digging through the lot, I found nothing. Everything was either too big or like highwater pants for the head. It made it all the more depressing when many whiter folks came into the store sporting fedoras and looking oh so natural.

So I gave up. I accepted that I just wasn't the correct race and found a golf cap that I loved. I put it on and immediately felt like I was Usnavi from "In The Heights." How lame is that! I know!

But then just as we were about to checkout, Erico Suave found a straw fedora, plopped it on my head, and it worked! I was an Asian in a fedora and looked normal. So I bought it! And I wore it around for the rest of the day.

Then we moved on to South Coast Plaza for some shoes. I classify myself as a stingy shopper. Generally I only buy things when they are on sale. I remember Erico Suave once told me that he bought a $200 pair of jeans. My jaw hit the floor and I hurtled myself out a window. I was shocked.

And while I would still never pay $200 for a pair of pants (why when Old Navy has them for $15?) I did think buying shoes only for deals is the wrong way to go. So I went looking to buy a pair of shoes that felt good on my feet. And boy did I find them!

Diesel shoes. White. Like they were custom built and broken in for my feet. Light and like stepping on clouds. I bought them without considering the price. They were $90. Not TOO bad actually. That's normal, I'm told.

But then, on a shoe shelf, I found a pair of slippers (made from many recyclable parts) that matched the golf cap I bought earlier! I tried it on for the hell of it and they too were extremely comfortable! So, I had to have it. Slippers... $60.

I won't make these shopping sprees a habit. I'll still look for deals since I'm human and want to max out my buck. But it's nice to buy stuff for the right reasons (you love it / it absolutely fits) rather than because it's cheap and you can settle on the look and feel.

Does that make sense? Who cares. Check out these photos:

Yo ye-ye-yo yo!


Thursday, March 12, 2009

Gas Fit For Passing

If you're looking for a high-brow blog entry today, you're in for quite the disappointment. This story is about gas.

All this week I've done nothing to help my runny-bowelslexia. From Sunday, eating nachos just before midnight; Monday, yogurt and coffee cake; Tuesday, Hooters massive wing overload; Wednesday, spicy ramen noodles and Yogurtland; Today, cereal with milk, this is not good for my quasi-lactose intolerance.

And so, each day riding home on the train from work, I've been in agony holding the gas in. It's torturous because in such a small enclosed space such as a train cabin, I don't want to embarrass myself by being the one who dealt it. But let's face it, you can't always keep it bottled inside. Sometimes there are some like the jaws-of-life that rip open your cheeks and soar like uncaged falcons.

So here's the strategy: When a fart comes a-knockin', I feign sleep and let it rip quietly. If I'm playing my iPod, I pause the song or lower the volume so that I can hear the successful silence. I feel bad and pray that nobody smells it, but I'm sure people do. I mean, the way the chairs are situated, someone is sitting directly behind me on a seat that's attached to my seatback.

But most of the time I hold it in, which makes me feel sick. Sometimes even, when I'm asleep on the train, I wake up just in time to clench my bum and block the gas from becoming a fart. It's nerve-wracking thinking about how close I've come to total dignity destruction.

Anyway, today, a really fat man sat next to me (and across from Timotei). I really had to be on my best behavior with the guy sitting right next to me, so I held back in pain. Every once in a while a fart would escape and became the source of my shame. I felt so bad when that happened.

At the next stop is when 75% of the passengers detrain the train. There were several empty seats everywhere in the car... so why the hell were three guys cramped in so closely together in a four-seater. Maybe the guy was too fat to move, I have no idea. But it pissed me off! Seriously, the guy was so massive that he spilled over into my seating area and also invaded Timotei's space. We had claimed the seats first! He should have moved to a different spot!

I was pissed, so my source of shame suddenly became my weapon. I let 'er fly. I let 'er rip as long and sloppy as I could. I'm not sure if it was the attack that was so gratifying or maybe it was just because I was unloading all the toxic gas, but it felt GOOOOOOD.

But you know what? It still did not chase him away. Maybe it was because my passed gas was a step up from his usual odor, I don't know! But when we reached the next station and he still didn't budge, I had to bail. I got up and moved to a wide open space. Anything that happened after that was completely inconsequential. Though I do feel bad as I write this out.

My story does end happily however. I got to the toilet with time to spare and truly unloaded what ailed me. I may have to reload soon for a future sneak attack. You'll never know what hit you.



Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Super-Size Three

Originally I was going to write three separate entries for the very different stories that I've accumulated over the past four days, but I just don't have the time nor patience for that. So one combined blog is what you gonna get!

--My Last RENT!--
I've lost count of how many times I've seen the show RENT. It had to be at least ten. But when I caught word that the original Mark and Roger would reprise their roles for a final national Broadway Tour, I had to get tickets. And so I contacted group sales on the very first day they became available and reserved 52 seats in the front mezzanine of the Pantages. In the end, I was only able to fill 35 seats (and relinquished the rest). The show became sold out! It was a very hot ticket event and I should have scalped them like mad!

The show was this past Sunday evening. So how was it? It was a great last show to watch, definitely! Anthony Rapp (Mark) is the best Mark ever. His youthful enthusiasm is awe inspiring. And then Adam Pascal (Roger) has the best singing voice for Roger. No one sounds better than him, bar none. But I was disappointed. He seemed like just a voice. He seemed to have phoned it in. I've seen way better Rogers play the role with fire and intensity. Pascal was stiff and nonreactionary. I later learned that in an earlier city, he had a herniated disc which explains what we saw. Still though, it was a great show, brilliant to see, and a high note to end things on. The best part of the night was Pascal singing "One Song Glory" and near the end, he hit this note higher than usual. It was amazing!

--Hawt Wing Men!--
Tuesday evening brought about finally satisfying my hot wing craving at Hooters! All-you-can-eat wings and trivia night! Mr. Mikey, Timotei, and I went after work and when the night was over, we had a total of 88 wings under our belts! I personally had 27 wings.

During their trivia challenge, we didn't know the answers to the questions, so we just had fun creating our team names. During the first round, we were Stunlaw (our old Rock Band band name); second round we became Rack Bauer (named after the female equivalent of Jack Bauer on this season of 24); round three we were Snoo-Snoo (named for the Amazon Women's favorite activity in Futurama). And in that third round, Snoo-Snoo tied for first place and Mr. Mikey went up to the front for a tie breaker, but lost.

All-in-all, I never want to see another chicken wing again. And a fun night.

--Gopher the Jugular!--
We thought our gopher woes were over after I bought an electronic sonar gopher detractor. It seemed to be working perfectly after all the gophers left and the mounds on our lawn leveled off. But then we came home last week to find mounds of dirt all around the sonar stick. The gopher is either deaf or the thing doesn't work.

There were two fresh holes. Looking down on one of them, I saw the little devil peek upward and retreat back down. It was actually kind of cute and cuddly. I sprinkled gopher killer pellets down the hole in hopes to kill it.

Cut to today. We returned from work and found a fresh hole carved in the middle of our lawn. Having had enough, we shoved a hose down the hole and pumped that little shit's habitat full of water. As the hole topped out with water, we knew he'd have to come up for air sooner or-- THERE HE IS!

An ugly soaking wet, skinny head popped out of the previously dug hole. It had nasty beady eyes and resembled a squirrel crawling with disease; no more cute and cuddly.

The website I visited said to keep a shovel handy and whack it once it reared its ugly head. I couldn't do it though! So Timotei took a swing, but the little bugger dropped back into the hole just as the shovel came down on it and then immediately back up. Comically like a Whack-a-Mole game, Timotei continued to hammer down, but no luck! Finally, Timotei took a stab at its head in an attempt to guillotine it to death and the thing didn't pop back up.

So assuming it was dead, we shoveled the mounds of dirt back into the holes. But alluva sudden, I noticed the beady eyes under a previously unseen hole under a tuft of grass! Timotei dropped the hammer one last time and we never saw those eyes again.

Hopefully it's dead. This weekend we will dig up the entire area in an attempt to fill in the underground burrows so that no other squirrel-looking squatters move in. If it's not dead, we'll flood that home one more time, but this time, with my dad's help who has experience whacking gophers. We will reclaim our lawn.

Glad to be done with this,


Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Always The Groomsman...

Sweet cheeks! Ellvin Kelvin asked me to be a groomsman in his wedding! And he asked me all funky. Case in point:

Ellvin Kelvin: it would be an honor to have both you and [Timotei] as one of my groomsmen

To which I responded:

RickyRoutes: How does that work?

To which he went on to tell me what a groomsman does.

Obviously I know what a groomsman does, but for a second, I thought he had one groomsman position open and he wanted both me and Timotei to fill it. I imagined both of us taking one arm each of a single bridesmaid and walking down the aisle in a sort of formal dressed ménage à trois.

But alas, he meant that both of us would be groomsmen -- which is sweet as heck!!!

I'm super psyched! Should make for a really fun time!

Dressed to kill,