Wednesday, June 30, 2004
The following is special edition of "Abra in Exile", written by Abra's dear, dear friend Brian Biggs:
Snack log:
-Pizza flavored "ruffle" style potato chips. (2)
-Reheated tempura shrimp
-Twist Pepsi (2)
-Juicy burgers (gummy candy)
-Grape Fanta (of course)
-Qoo
-Packaged gyoza tray
-Doughtnuts
-Mysterious sandwich platter from train station
-Trolli Octopus
-Match canned tea
Abra suggested fried octupus balls as well, but I politely declined.
Stay up Rasta,
Brian
Snack log:
-Pizza flavored "ruffle" style potato chips. (2)
-Reheated tempura shrimp
-Twist Pepsi (2)
-Juicy burgers (gummy candy)
-Grape Fanta (of course)
-Qoo
-Packaged gyoza tray
-Doughtnuts
-Mysterious sandwich platter from train station
-Trolli Octopus
-Match canned tea
Abra suggested fried octupus balls as well, but I politely declined.
Stay up Rasta,
Brian
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
I am just about to be off to Jogen elementary, but as I was rereading the lesson plan for today's class, I noticed that we will all be enjoying a game entitled "Touch Your Body" for about fifteen minutes. So now i am sitting here trying to figure out if the teacher wants me to innocently point out the different body parts (head, shoulders, eyes, feet, etc) and have the students repeat after me, or if he wants me to lead some sort of workshop on the correct way to masturbate. I am getting a bit nervous...
Monday, June 21, 2004
Ok, here are the not-quite-official-but pretty-close dates concerning my return to the US. It looks like I will leave Japan August 3rd and arrive in Portland around the 24th. So everyone get ready.
I spent my morning attending an all-city sports day for all five of Mine's junior highs. Because of my lofty position as Assistant Language Teacher, I was afforded VIP treatment at the event, getting to sit under the tent with other important persons, like the school principals, and was served tea by some of the students who chose to work in the hospitality department rather than run sprints in the mid-morning heat. I had been looking forward to attending sports day, and I was not disappointed. It was somehow very thrilling to see my students doing something other than stumbling through basic English sentences or drooling at their desks. And some of them were really quite good. Who knew the smart second grader at Isa, the girl who frequents the staff room at lunch, double checking she has all of her homework assignments duly recorded in her notebook, was one of the fastest sprinters in Mine? Or that the Yamazaki twins, identical second graders at Toyotamae, usually very timid in class, were talented distance runners? At the beginning of every race, I would scan the faces of the students lining up in the hopes of spotting a few of my favorites to root for. In order to be one of Abra sensei's favorites, you have to try very hard in English class, avoid giggling in the halls if you happen to pass me, and let me only see you in a happy, cheerful mood. I thought that those criteria were pretty limiting, but as I sat under the VIP tent, watching all of my students try their hardest and hearing them cheer each other on, I found myself branching out and even rooting for the likes of the obnoxious Omine student who rarely opens his textbook and is always disrupting class. Over the course of this year, I have often wondered if I truly liked working with the students. I mean, I definitely have had some great experiences in the classroom and there are a handful of kids that are so promising, so friendly and just really great people that I can't help but be sad upon realizing that I am never going to be able to find out what happens to them after August 3rd. But honestly, working with junior high aged children can be very trying, especially when they don't seem to have much enthusiasm for what you are trying to teach them. Or when they whisper and point at you, while trying to suppress their giggles with their hands every time you enter a classroom. Or when they jump you in the teacher's room and try and molest you on your first day at their school. But I think attending sports day helped me realize that despite the molestation and frustration I have suffered as a result of working in their schools, I am going to miss the students of Mine--the smart ones, the slow ones, the polite ones, the friendly ones, the indifferent ones, the obnoxious ones, the stalkers, the hard-workers and even the molesters--so much more that I thought I would.
I spent my morning attending an all-city sports day for all five of Mine's junior highs. Because of my lofty position as Assistant Language Teacher, I was afforded VIP treatment at the event, getting to sit under the tent with other important persons, like the school principals, and was served tea by some of the students who chose to work in the hospitality department rather than run sprints in the mid-morning heat. I had been looking forward to attending sports day, and I was not disappointed. It was somehow very thrilling to see my students doing something other than stumbling through basic English sentences or drooling at their desks. And some of them were really quite good. Who knew the smart second grader at Isa, the girl who frequents the staff room at lunch, double checking she has all of her homework assignments duly recorded in her notebook, was one of the fastest sprinters in Mine? Or that the Yamazaki twins, identical second graders at Toyotamae, usually very timid in class, were talented distance runners? At the beginning of every race, I would scan the faces of the students lining up in the hopes of spotting a few of my favorites to root for. In order to be one of Abra sensei's favorites, you have to try very hard in English class, avoid giggling in the halls if you happen to pass me, and let me only see you in a happy, cheerful mood. I thought that those criteria were pretty limiting, but as I sat under the VIP tent, watching all of my students try their hardest and hearing them cheer each other on, I found myself branching out and even rooting for the likes of the obnoxious Omine student who rarely opens his textbook and is always disrupting class. Over the course of this year, I have often wondered if I truly liked working with the students. I mean, I definitely have had some great experiences in the classroom and there are a handful of kids that are so promising, so friendly and just really great people that I can't help but be sad upon realizing that I am never going to be able to find out what happens to them after August 3rd. But honestly, working with junior high aged children can be very trying, especially when they don't seem to have much enthusiasm for what you are trying to teach them. Or when they whisper and point at you, while trying to suppress their giggles with their hands every time you enter a classroom. Or when they jump you in the teacher's room and try and molest you on your first day at their school. But I think attending sports day helped me realize that despite the molestation and frustration I have suffered as a result of working in their schools, I am going to miss the students of Mine--the smart ones, the slow ones, the polite ones, the friendly ones, the indifferent ones, the obnoxious ones, the stalkers, the hard-workers and even the molesters--so much more that I thought I would.
Sunday, June 20, 2004
Even though it is Monday, a day I typically dread, and the promised typhoon will not be making an appearance in Yamaguchi (we are always getting the shaft down here, I swear), I did just get paid, so I am in a much better mood than one might expect (I was perhaps a bit too excited for the typhoon, as I have a love for inclement weather). Not only did I just got paid, but Hiyashi-san, the woman who does the payin' around here, hooked me up with travel expense money for the past three months, which was a pleasant surprise as I had been wondering if that practice had been discontinued. I did not, however, get handing an envelope with my traveling home money, which would have been nice.
This weekend... What can I say? It was a great one, and made me start thinking about some of the things I am going to be sad to leave come August 3rd (which, I just realized, other than friends, in this case means food and alcohol). Friday night there was a barbecue at my apartment building, which I was not exactly looking forward to attending at first because I always eat was too much and drink way too much and end up alone in my apartment feeling like I am going to puke and too drunk to do anything but go to bed and send texts about how maybe i really do like sweet potatoes and i should stop lying to myself and others, claiming that I hate my favorite food's cousin. This time, though I kept it under control, as far as the booze goes, having just two beers. I didn't do so well with the eating though, but if you have ever been to a Japanese style barbecue and tasted that meat, those veggies, all dipped in that sauce (the use of the word "that", I realize, excludes those of you who have not been lucky enough to attend such a barbecue in Japan, but for those who have, no explanation is necessary as to what I am refering)... you just don't want to stop, or in my case, literally can't. After the eating, we lit off fireworks and sat around eating noodles (which the cook with chicken guts on a try on the barbecue once the meat is all gone. so so good). I will say that, though I had a good time, apartment parties are just a bit more fun when experiencing the affects of six chi-hi's. But I just couldn't risk a hangover because Saturday I was headed for a shopping spree, as well as a drinking spree, in lovely Fukuoka. Meagan, Tomoko and I headed down there around 1 pm, and spent the afternoon dropping yenjamins at Zara, the Gap and this awesome little jewelry store my mom and I found when she was here. Later, we met up with Megan, Mary and Selene and the six of us stuffed ourselves at Hard Rock Cafe, which our little group might have a slightly unhealthy obsession with, but an understandable one given the fact we live in Japan and rarely get such treats as chimichangas, brownie sundaes, fajitas, burgers that have not been japanese-ified and can be of the veggie variety and american-style sandwiches. Seriously, the place saves souls. Once the bingeing ceased, we ventured out into the stifling heat to binge again--this time on The Drink. You know, booze. We met up with Jocelyn and James, and a bunch of other Yamaguchi JETs and starting doing battle with the almost painful heat the only way we knew how: forgetting it by drinking ourselves into a stupor in clubs that miraculously were cooler than it was outside. I am not kidding about this. There was a breeze and I was able to breathe easier on a crowded dance floor that night than I could out on the streets. We ended up going to two different clubs, the infamous Crazy Cock and the new hot ticket in town, Sam and Dave's, which is a chain out of Osaka. The best thing about this palce was the two way (or is it one way?) mirror in the guy's bathroom. When inside, you can look out at the club, but they can't see you! Of course, the first thing we drunk girls did upon arrival was burst into the guy's room and have a little look. My suspicions that this might be my new base of operations for nights out in Fukuoka were confirmed when they played "The Thong Song". People forgot about that little gem much too quickly, if you ask me. Since I was reunited with my Thailand cigarette sharing pal Megan, we just had to go on a bumming mission, which sadly ended with some menthol crap, but also led us to the crowded bar, where a short, well-dressed white man gave me a quick once over, tapped the woman standing next to him on the shoulder, and then pointed at me. She started talking about websites and picture taking and filling out forms, and I first thought I was being offered a job as an online pornstar for the benefit of those few white men who come to Japan and miss their foreign sisters, that small minority that doesn't get all giddy over their newfound attractiveness in the eyes of the local female population and start pursuing the submissive ones in much the same way I pursue John Stockton. But the site was more on the promoting the social lives of foreigners in Kyushu scale of things than than the selling of pornography, but still, Megan and I were specially selected, and soon, you will be able to see pictures of us, with our fake names of course, offering to be book buddies with all of Kyushu.
We finally made it back to our hotel around 5am. Megan, Mary and I decided what with the heat and me whining about my heeled shoes causing me extreme anguish, grabbed a cab back and that may have been the best 200 yen I have ever spent. Got up before 10am the next day, grabbed some lunch and headed back to wait to sweat and for the typhoon that passed us all Yamaguchians over. So sad. So very sad.
This weekend... What can I say? It was a great one, and made me start thinking about some of the things I am going to be sad to leave come August 3rd (which, I just realized, other than friends, in this case means food and alcohol). Friday night there was a barbecue at my apartment building, which I was not exactly looking forward to attending at first because I always eat was too much and drink way too much and end up alone in my apartment feeling like I am going to puke and too drunk to do anything but go to bed and send texts about how maybe i really do like sweet potatoes and i should stop lying to myself and others, claiming that I hate my favorite food's cousin. This time, though I kept it under control, as far as the booze goes, having just two beers. I didn't do so well with the eating though, but if you have ever been to a Japanese style barbecue and tasted that meat, those veggies, all dipped in that sauce (the use of the word "that", I realize, excludes those of you who have not been lucky enough to attend such a barbecue in Japan, but for those who have, no explanation is necessary as to what I am refering)... you just don't want to stop, or in my case, literally can't. After the eating, we lit off fireworks and sat around eating noodles (which the cook with chicken guts on a try on the barbecue once the meat is all gone. so so good). I will say that, though I had a good time, apartment parties are just a bit more fun when experiencing the affects of six chi-hi's. But I just couldn't risk a hangover because Saturday I was headed for a shopping spree, as well as a drinking spree, in lovely Fukuoka. Meagan, Tomoko and I headed down there around 1 pm, and spent the afternoon dropping yenjamins at Zara, the Gap and this awesome little jewelry store my mom and I found when she was here. Later, we met up with Megan, Mary and Selene and the six of us stuffed ourselves at Hard Rock Cafe, which our little group might have a slightly unhealthy obsession with, but an understandable one given the fact we live in Japan and rarely get such treats as chimichangas, brownie sundaes, fajitas, burgers that have not been japanese-ified and can be of the veggie variety and american-style sandwiches. Seriously, the place saves souls. Once the bingeing ceased, we ventured out into the stifling heat to binge again--this time on The Drink. You know, booze. We met up with Jocelyn and James, and a bunch of other Yamaguchi JETs and starting doing battle with the almost painful heat the only way we knew how: forgetting it by drinking ourselves into a stupor in clubs that miraculously were cooler than it was outside. I am not kidding about this. There was a breeze and I was able to breathe easier on a crowded dance floor that night than I could out on the streets. We ended up going to two different clubs, the infamous Crazy Cock and the new hot ticket in town, Sam and Dave's, which is a chain out of Osaka. The best thing about this palce was the two way (or is it one way?) mirror in the guy's bathroom. When inside, you can look out at the club, but they can't see you! Of course, the first thing we drunk girls did upon arrival was burst into the guy's room and have a little look. My suspicions that this might be my new base of operations for nights out in Fukuoka were confirmed when they played "The Thong Song". People forgot about that little gem much too quickly, if you ask me. Since I was reunited with my Thailand cigarette sharing pal Megan, we just had to go on a bumming mission, which sadly ended with some menthol crap, but also led us to the crowded bar, where a short, well-dressed white man gave me a quick once over, tapped the woman standing next to him on the shoulder, and then pointed at me. She started talking about websites and picture taking and filling out forms, and I first thought I was being offered a job as an online pornstar for the benefit of those few white men who come to Japan and miss their foreign sisters, that small minority that doesn't get all giddy over their newfound attractiveness in the eyes of the local female population and start pursuing the submissive ones in much the same way I pursue John Stockton. But the site was more on the promoting the social lives of foreigners in Kyushu scale of things than than the selling of pornography, but still, Megan and I were specially selected, and soon, you will be able to see pictures of us, with our fake names of course, offering to be book buddies with all of Kyushu.
We finally made it back to our hotel around 5am. Megan, Mary and I decided what with the heat and me whining about my heeled shoes causing me extreme anguish, grabbed a cab back and that may have been the best 200 yen I have ever spent. Got up before 10am the next day, grabbed some lunch and headed back to wait to sweat and for the typhoon that passed us all Yamaguchians over. So sad. So very sad.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
I am currently at Isa Junior High but as the staff room had been abandoned by everyone but me, one of the vice-principals and the office lady in favor of sports day practice on the dirt field on the side of the school, I have decided to put down the book I have been reading all morning and take advantage of an open computer. However, if any of the English speakers happen to reappear in the staff room, I am going to have to shut this whole operation down as their eyes cannot be privy to the seditious nature of this blog. Anyway, for those of you who don't know, I have always fancied myself some sort of a diet guru and am always in search of a new diet that I can someday include in my diet book which will make me rich and famous, but hopefully not in that Susan Powter, shaved head kind of way. Coming up with groundbreaking dieting techniques is not easy, however, and apart from my famous Candy Diet, a lot of my ideas have been tried before, such as the Cocaine Diet. However, I have recently discovered a diet that I doubt most Americans have ever had the opportunity to test out before. This particular diet is native to Japan, and is only available to those working within the Japanese school system. I have dubbed it, simply, the School Lunch Diet.
Here is how school lunch works in Japan: Around 12:30 everyday, huge metal buckets are brought into the staff room, or the classroom, and students or teachers (usually only the women though, unless the office assistant happens to be male) slop some rice, soup, pickled vegetables and whale into small dishes, which are then piled onto a puke colored tray to be deposited on the desks of the diners. I would also like to add here, if I may, that seeing as though students do all the cleaning themselves in Japanese schools, I have never seen any sort of disinfectant used on the desks to make them clean enough for eating on, and that currently there are a bunch of ants on my desk. But anyway, for the majority of the year, I have been able to choke down most of my school lunch. I am not a big breakfast person during the week, so I am usually starving by lunchtime, and I would be lying if I said that seeing that giant bowl of unadorned white rice and pickled vegetables had never been the highlight of my school day. However, ever since the aforementioned Pregnant Fish Incident, choking down school lunch has become a very difficult task. Since that day, it is like all of the things that disgusted me about school lunch--the tofu, the buckets, the slopping of the soup hitting the bowls, the unidentifiable fish with heads and tails intact--has been magnified to the point that even foods I could previously put away with a semblance of ease have become, in my mind, that pregnant fish reincarnated. So obviously, a lot of my school lunch has been being tossed back into the buckets after the feeding (you are not allowed to simply throw uneaten food in the trash. It must go back into the bucket from which it came. Have yet to crack the code on this one). I felt a little bad about this for awhile, but, to be honest, there is nothing I can do. School lunch makes me ill. Regardless of the fact that most of my problems with it are probably psychological, that doesn't change the fact that getting it down is very hard for me these days.
In the days following the Pregnant Fish Incident, I started noticing that I was eating less and less of my lunch. As my stomach rumbles quit ceasing after lucnh as the had done before, and found myself leaving school hungry, I realized that the Pregnant Fish Incident, though very traumatic, was going to be the inspiration for yet another breakthrough diet for the gure (me). And the School Lunch Diet was born.
Sadly, I am not sure just how accurately I will be able to recreate this diet upon my return home, but I am sure I will be able to find the metal buckets at somewhere like Home Depot, and Jolina's dad can hook me up with some pregnant fish, so I think there is a good chance of it working out. So everyone get excited for the kind of weight-loss opportunities you never dared to dream might be possible!
Special message to Karl Malone: See? Traitors to Johnny never prosper.
But I do feel just a bit sorry for him, I hate to admit. And maybe for "The Glove" as well. But here is who I don't feel sorry for: Every single other one of those Lakers and that weasel-like coach of theirs.
Here is how school lunch works in Japan: Around 12:30 everyday, huge metal buckets are brought into the staff room, or the classroom, and students or teachers (usually only the women though, unless the office assistant happens to be male) slop some rice, soup, pickled vegetables and whale into small dishes, which are then piled onto a puke colored tray to be deposited on the desks of the diners. I would also like to add here, if I may, that seeing as though students do all the cleaning themselves in Japanese schools, I have never seen any sort of disinfectant used on the desks to make them clean enough for eating on, and that currently there are a bunch of ants on my desk. But anyway, for the majority of the year, I have been able to choke down most of my school lunch. I am not a big breakfast person during the week, so I am usually starving by lunchtime, and I would be lying if I said that seeing that giant bowl of unadorned white rice and pickled vegetables had never been the highlight of my school day. However, ever since the aforementioned Pregnant Fish Incident, choking down school lunch has become a very difficult task. Since that day, it is like all of the things that disgusted me about school lunch--the tofu, the buckets, the slopping of the soup hitting the bowls, the unidentifiable fish with heads and tails intact--has been magnified to the point that even foods I could previously put away with a semblance of ease have become, in my mind, that pregnant fish reincarnated. So obviously, a lot of my school lunch has been being tossed back into the buckets after the feeding (you are not allowed to simply throw uneaten food in the trash. It must go back into the bucket from which it came. Have yet to crack the code on this one). I felt a little bad about this for awhile, but, to be honest, there is nothing I can do. School lunch makes me ill. Regardless of the fact that most of my problems with it are probably psychological, that doesn't change the fact that getting it down is very hard for me these days.
In the days following the Pregnant Fish Incident, I started noticing that I was eating less and less of my lunch. As my stomach rumbles quit ceasing after lucnh as the had done before, and found myself leaving school hungry, I realized that the Pregnant Fish Incident, though very traumatic, was going to be the inspiration for yet another breakthrough diet for the gure (me). And the School Lunch Diet was born.
Sadly, I am not sure just how accurately I will be able to recreate this diet upon my return home, but I am sure I will be able to find the metal buckets at somewhere like Home Depot, and Jolina's dad can hook me up with some pregnant fish, so I think there is a good chance of it working out. So everyone get excited for the kind of weight-loss opportunities you never dared to dream might be possible!
Special message to Karl Malone: See? Traitors to Johnny never prosper.
But I do feel just a bit sorry for him, I hate to admit. And maybe for "The Glove" as well. But here is who I don't feel sorry for: Every single other one of those Lakers and that weasel-like coach of theirs.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
My prayers have been said and now all I can do is wait until my favorite online newsource, cnn.com, reports the Lakers' loss to Detroit. Until that moment, however, I am spending a lovely little Friday afternoon in the ol office, recovering from a morning spent at Kawahigashi Elementary, where I taught students from two schools how to make brownies and showed them all up with my basketball and "hand baseball" skills. One of the many things I have discovered in Japan is that if you consistently find yourself competing in athletic endeavors with the under 12 set, you will be the best player on any team and the most sought after athletic presence at any school. I am not quite sure they were as impressed with my brownie making though. Only in Japan would making something as simple as brownies become such an ordeal. Actually it wasn't that bad, and even though the recipe called for things that are difficult to find in Japan (unsweetened chocolate for baking) and I had to improvise with some ingredient amounts and cooking time (remember that all baking in Japan takes place in a microwave), they turned out pretty good. Maybe not as chocolately as usual, but none of the 30 little kids who participated in this experiment or teachers present had ever even heard of brownies, so they were none the wiser. Also, when I brought some extras back to the office to share with my coworkers, they praised my cooking like I was Julia Child or the naked chef or something. As long as none of these people ever sees or tastes a properly prepared brownie, I am some sort of dessert chef extraordinaire, which might not be spelled correctly.
Supposedly there is a typhoon on the way tonight, but I am not going to let some high winds and heavy rain stop me from enjoying my first rooftop beer garden of the season tonight. I was realizing the other night that I have not been properly trashed since my little romp in Kyoto. Oh, wait, just remembered a wine-drenched Friday a few weeks back. But anyway, I only have a few more weeks before my term of service expires, and that means only a few more weeks with my friends here, which means a lot of bonding is in order, which means there is going to have to be a lot of drinking. The things you do for your friends...
As far as my mom's visit here went, it was lovely. Except for a couple of days, the weather was perfect, and we were able to visit a bunch of places and she got to meet a lot of my friends and people I work with. It was really nice to have someone taking care of me again, and doing things like buying my groceries and cleaning supplies. Highlights of the visit, I think, were visiting Miyajima, shopping in Fukuoka (Why is there not a zara in Portland or Seattle or even LA? Why?), and my mom peeing in a urinal at Nonno on big spaghetti Wednesday. Ok, 45 minutes to go. For those of you who are anxiously awaiting my arrival back in the US, it is looking like I will be getting back around the 21st of August. I am expecting a large welcoming committee at the airport, and, as mentioned previously, a pirate-themed welcome back party complete with fortified wine tasting.
Also, would someone please tell Allee happy belated birthday from me as I was never given her address or new email?
Supposedly there is a typhoon on the way tonight, but I am not going to let some high winds and heavy rain stop me from enjoying my first rooftop beer garden of the season tonight. I was realizing the other night that I have not been properly trashed since my little romp in Kyoto. Oh, wait, just remembered a wine-drenched Friday a few weeks back. But anyway, I only have a few more weeks before my term of service expires, and that means only a few more weeks with my friends here, which means a lot of bonding is in order, which means there is going to have to be a lot of drinking. The things you do for your friends...
As far as my mom's visit here went, it was lovely. Except for a couple of days, the weather was perfect, and we were able to visit a bunch of places and she got to meet a lot of my friends and people I work with. It was really nice to have someone taking care of me again, and doing things like buying my groceries and cleaning supplies. Highlights of the visit, I think, were visiting Miyajima, shopping in Fukuoka (Why is there not a zara in Portland or Seattle or even LA? Why?), and my mom peeing in a urinal at Nonno on big spaghetti Wednesday. Ok, 45 minutes to go. For those of you who are anxiously awaiting my arrival back in the US, it is looking like I will be getting back around the 21st of August. I am expecting a large welcoming committee at the airport, and, as mentioned previously, a pirate-themed welcome back party complete with fortified wine tasting.
Also, would someone please tell Allee happy belated birthday from me as I was never given her address or new email?
Monday, June 07, 2004
Was everyone else as elated as I was to learn that the Pistons managed to destroy the Lakers in game one of the finals? If there is one professional sports team I hate with a passion, it is the Lakers, with their pompous attitude, squirrely little coach and show off superstars. There are so many reasons I would love to see the underdog Pistons win the series and the title. Briefly, a few of them:
1) Karl Malone may have been one of my favorite players a year ago, but his decision to leave his team behind to play for the Lakers and fulfill his championship ring dreams was, simply, wrong. He let me down, he let Namsie down, he let the state of Utah down, but most importantly he let Johnny down.
2) Rasheed Wallace is one cool guy. I would love to party with him. He has had some hard times. He needs a ring.
3) I hate the Lakers.
4) Rapist or not, Kobe Bryant is and always will be a ball-hogging show off. And he took Brandy to prom. That's weird. Plus if he has to go to jail, he probably won't be allowed to bring his new championship ring, so it really would be better if someone not bound for prison, someone who will actually get to keep it with them and treasure it, gets it.
5) Phil Jackson is the devil.
6) I hate the Lakers.
1) Karl Malone may have been one of my favorite players a year ago, but his decision to leave his team behind to play for the Lakers and fulfill his championship ring dreams was, simply, wrong. He let me down, he let Namsie down, he let the state of Utah down, but most importantly he let Johnny down.
2) Rasheed Wallace is one cool guy. I would love to party with him. He has had some hard times. He needs a ring.
3) I hate the Lakers.
4) Rapist or not, Kobe Bryant is and always will be a ball-hogging show off. And he took Brandy to prom. That's weird. Plus if he has to go to jail, he probably won't be allowed to bring his new championship ring, so it really would be better if someone not bound for prison, someone who will actually get to keep it with them and treasure it, gets it.
5) Phil Jackson is the devil.
6) I hate the Lakers.
Thursday, June 03, 2004
I am sorry I haven't been able to write. With my mom here, most of my time has been occupied. Plus, while she knows about the site, she does not have the address and is not allowed to read it, as that might lead to her discovering the truth about my meth addiction and past nights spent pimping out my hos on the streets. Anyway, the point is I will write soon.
