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dave
Age. 34
Gender. Male
Ethnicity. Chinese
Location Valley Village, CA
School. Cornell Univ
» More info.
The Story of My Wife (Part I)
308th day of 2006
As you may remember, I met my wife in Pana Valley. I have since to write about her, because of a most terrible crime that I have committed. This o' most ungrateful-- o' most reckless and foolish crime--has been haunting me for the past several nights. I will elaborate on this later.

For now, I will continue where I left off: the night of our wedding. (If you haven't yet already, I advise you to first read the tale of Pana Valley, which narrates how my beautiful wife and I met.)

My wife was right. We were lost, lost in the Jungle of the Retarded Ninjas.

This was a most terrible and terrifying place. You see, retarded ninjas are amongst the most formidable and viperous of creatures. Due to their state of mental denormalization, it is essentially impossible to predict their attacks. Their movies are without reason--without logic--and their formations change like the expressions on a peevish baby's face.

After the first of several attacks, I saw my life flash before eyes more times than I could count (i.e. more than 4 times). Each time, my wife, while fending off her own retarded attackers, came to my rescue and saved my life.

As I quickly came to realize, my wife was a master of martial arts. Her moves were swift and graceful. As dawn rapidly approached, my fears began to dissipate with the mist. The retarded ninjas were dropping like brick possums to my wife's flying-fowl-hidden-hippo chops.

By the next morning, we had fought our way out of the Jungle of the Retarded Ninjas. We headed due west, to the Sea of the Mediterraneans.

"Wow," I finally said, breaking the silence and still catching my breath, "I.. never.. knew you.. were so good.. in.. fighting."

"Yea, well, that was nothing," she replied, coyly. "I used to watch a lot of martial arts flicks when I was young." I could see she was blushing.

I was in awe of my wife. In one night, I had learned so much about her. And, they were all great things!

Over the next several weeks, I would discover that I had merely glimpsed the skim of her talent... and my awe for her would manifest into something much more dangerous.

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Priceless
307th day of 2006


Public Service Announcement
Parents! Don't let this happen to you. Give your kid a NuTang (and watch his IQ and vocabulary grow).

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dave's Halloween Special - Here's to us!
305th day of 2006
For those of you, like me, who couldn't afford a real pumpkin, here's to us. Here's to the spirit of ten-thousand year dollar, to the spirit of the ten-million mile dollar. Here's to all those beautiful memories we never enjoyed and never lived to regret -- because it saved us money! Here's to the us noblemen who are too cheap to go trick-or-treating. The initial investment of a costume is just too unaffordable! I present to you... the cheapskate's jacko-lantern.




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RockThirst Revamp
302th day of 2006
The day has been relatively productive, though uneventful.

I decided to revamp RockThirst.com. By revamp, I essentially mean, redesign. I'm gonna spend a lot more time promoting that site, too.

That was essentially my late morning / early afternoon.

I then vacuumed my apartment. Oh man, the dust. I emptied out the dust canister thing outside. What resulted was a total destruction of the local ecosystem. Because of the toxic dust fumes, all the neighboring bunnies and smurfs were forced out hiding and promptly died from asphyxiation. "Damn you, dave!" they shouted in unison.

I apologized, by sometimes even a man of my apathy towards cleanliness must vacuum. Such is the life. SUCH IS THE LIFE!!

And now, I shall leave you with a nerdy riddle that seems to somewhat befitting:
How are Halloween and Christmas the same?

Hint 1: The solution is somewhat mathematical.

Hint 2: Think binary.

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Onions Make Me Cry
298th day of 2006
It's true, it's true. An onion made me cry.*

I decided to splurge, so after an hour or two of internal debate, I finally bought the onion from the flea market.

I went home, sharpened by samurai sword and prayed to the Buddha of Sacred Sins for forgiveness for what I was about to do. I held up the sword so high that it touched the cumulus clouds above me. I was about to bring it down to slice the onion... Then it happened. The onion began to speak.

The following conversation ensued:

Onion:
An onion, am I,
It's true, I is shy,
My english is suck,
No school, I bad luck.

Why you kill me?
Cut me, then eat me?
I taste like shit,
You won't like it a bit.

Me (with tears in my eye): STFU!

* I'm just kidding. The onion didn't make me cry, because I'm not a sensitive wuss.

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The Soft & Moist Peach
296th day of 2006
Man, I was so hungry. A Chinese newspaper diet is not only totally unfulfilling, but gives me massive diarrhea, thus leaving me hungrier and weaker than I was previously.

Anyway, in a frantic fit of hunger... I opened my fridge hoping that, by some strange chance of great fortune, I were to find some food (instead of empty shelves filled w/ Chinese newspapers).

Much to my surprise, I opened up one of those little drawers and found a peach inside. The peach was very soft and moist, and had a darkish hue that was unbecoming of a peach. It must've been in there for 2 months. Seriously.



Well, anyway, I am now eating that peach. I feel very nervous--not to mention nauseous. Each bite is taken with great caution, as my weakened taste buds search for any signs of grotesque flavors. Wish me luck! If I fall asleep tonight never to awaken again, after poisoning myself with toxic peach poisons, please... I beseech you!... please, tell my wife that I'm sorry.

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