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Take My Music Compatibility Test word up! Subscribe to this to blog if you would like to be emailed whenever it is updated. Entertaining reads! full of BS. come on over the mountain dave Age. 42 Gender. Male Ethnicity. Chinese Location Valley Village, CA School. Cornell Univ » More info. The Story of My Life
Like a Rabbit Loves Its Hutch The Creative Mind of Online Scammers (Part 3 of 2) The Creative Mind of Online Scammers (Part 2 of 2) The Creative Mind of Online Scammers (Part 1 of 2) Impossible is Nothing Twas once was lost, was once of cost Traveling down the River of Life The Challenge - Facts 51 to 100 of 100 The Challenge - Facts 1 to 50 of 100 Grand Openings She calls me from the cold I am a free, retired vagabond Two more down, I'm behind pace The Child Inside 2009 over, 2010 onward The Zoo of Hangzhou is... You know your cholesterol's high... The slaying of an eggplant A new chapter in my life: homelessness? How can she slap? 800B Payout What Can Happen May Happen Top 5 Bad Ass Guitar Solos of Youtube My New (Online) Addiction Intragnizence Irrefutable Proof that Dinosaurs Once Ruled the World The Most Delicious Destination in the World Let's Celebrate Celebrity Apprentice Of Ninjas, Scientific Research, and Mammalian Vegetation My 2nd Facebook App -- Perfect Match Eh Ah Uh Oh Eh Ah Uh Oh Eh Ah Uh Oh '08 - The Year to Get Rich or Die Tryin' My 5 Most Anticipated Movies of '08 A Handy Helping Hand Back in Time for the Holidays Welcome to Egg City Have you tried the Ultimate CN Soup? The Impossible Defense Escape of the Thundercat Conspiracy, Death, & Interstellar Cohabitation From CA to PA Another Soul for Sale, Oh Well My First Vid MyNuMu Community | How to spot a fake 223th day of 2006 Another week, and my opinion has not swayed. Work surely sucks. Anyway, let me share with you an invaluable life lesson that I learned the hard way. After reading (and scrutinizing) this blog entry, I guarantee that you will learn how to spot a fake. It all began Wednesday evening... I had just got out of work, off of my 11 hour shift of flipping veggie burgers. I was walking home, through Compton, when I suddenly realized that I was completely lost and disoriented... must've been the veggie burger fumes. After almost an hour of walking through a graveyard filled with camaflouged snakes, I finally make my way out and spot someone. So, I approach the guy. The following conversation ensues: Me: Hey, do you know how to get to Burbank? Guy: Hmm, let me think about it. Me: Okay. Guy: You know Paparazzi Ave? Me: No, sorry, not really. Guy: Hmm. Okay, follow this street down 4 more blocks. Me: Okay. Guy: No, wait let me think about it again. Me: Okay. Guy: Right, 4 blocks. I was thinking it might've been 3. Me: Heh. Guy: Cause I can never remember whether there's an actual light in front of the Denny's. Me: True. Guy: Huh? Me: Oh, nothing. Guy: Did you say true? Me: Um, maybe, I don't remember. Why? Guy: I dunno. Me: Heh. Guy: Okay, anyway, where were we? Me: 4 blocks down this road? Guy: Yea, okay... so go down 4 blocks, then turn right onto Wild Ass Street. Me: Hmm, ok. Guy: Alright, got that so far? Me: Yea. [5 minute pause] Me: Okay, go on. [1 minute pause] Me: Okay. [1 minute pause] Me: Yea? [30 second pause] Me: Hello? [30 second pause] Me: Yo! [15 second pause] Me: Yo wtf, man. You suck!!!!!!!! And then it happened! I realized I had been talking to a talking statue this entire time. So tricky. I looked around me, slightly embarrassed, and noticed a gang of deadly hoodlums playing with machetes laughing at me. A tear slowly trickled down my face and formed a pool of blood at my feet. The lesson, my friend, is to never talk to a person that's 20-foot tall and made of stone surrounded by a small fence. That is in all likelihood a FAKE person. A fake person will only waste your precious time and possibly feed you faulty information (as the case for me). Comment! (29) | Recommend! | Rate! | Categories: fake [t], life lesson [t] All content copyright by dave. Please do not reproduce, recycle, or regurgitate without the express written consent of the CTU. deep fried guinea pig 218th day of 2006 Man, works truly sucks. I can't wait till retirement. So, I've moved into my new place in Burbank, California. There are still some rather useful items I need to purloin -- including a fridge and a bed. So right now I'm sleeping on the floor. I've also been eating out most meals, because of the lack of refrigeration, which is burning a hole in my paper bag pants. Anyway, to conserve money, I've decided to cut my beverage selection down to just water. As for food, I've concocted a magical dish called Lo (price) Mein. Basically, I will run all my junk mail and those weekly circulars through the paper shredder. I can then stir fry the strips of paper into a pasty meal. Such a delicious means of recycling! Speaking of food, my friend Danny had the recent fortune of enjoying a true delicacy whilst adventuring in Peru. That, above, was once a guinea pig. He said it tasted like a mix of chicken and duck. Oh, by the way, while chatting on AIM, I've discovered one of the best kept secrets in the English language. If you add an 'e' to the of 'machines,' you will notice a secret word emerge. What does it mean? WTF DOES IT MEAN?? Man, I'm tired... thinking of going back to floor. Comment! (13) | Recommend! | Rate! All content copyright by dave. Please do not reproduce, recycle, or regurgitate without the express written consent of the CTU. Kingdom Boredom 209th day of 2006 Well, this week marks my first week of real work at my first full-time job. (That sentence seemed a bit loaded, but oh well.) I got back from training Wednesday evening, and reported to my first project Thursday morning at Kingdom Boredom. So, I've only worked for 2 days, and during those days, hardly had much to do. Nonetheless, I feel incredibly tired right now. Unfortunately for me... I have to get up early tomorrow to move all my stuff to my new temporary home in Burbank, CA, a land where kings and peasants drink merrily together from a pot of burnt grasshoppers. I still have 3 suitcases and 2 duffel bags left to pack. Such is the life... such is the life... This reminds me of story of the... ah fuck it, gotta go pack. Lat0r. Comment! (10) | Recommend! | Rate! All content copyright by dave. Please do not reproduce, recycle, or regurgitate without the express written consent of the CTU. Training in Dallas 203th day of 2006 So I've been training in Dallas for this past week and the grueling training shall continue till Wednesday. What training is this for, you ask? I'm training to be a contestant on this new show I've been watching, Solitary. This is one of the funniest show I've ever seen. Whoever produced Solitary is a comedic genius! For those of your not familiar w/ this reality TV show, here's the general idea: we start off w/ 9 contestants, each put in solitary and only allowed to communicate w/ this sick, twisted robotic voice that goes by the name Val. Each week, the contestants go through 2 tormenting tests. The first is usually mental and tests your memory under severe pressures and distractions. The person who passes this test first is exempt from the 2nd test. This 2nd test is usually physical torture (such as the "bed of nails"). The first person to quit this 2nd test due to the unbearable anguish leaves the show. ATTENTION MEMBERS! If you want to make some pps daily and you use Internet Explorer, contact me on IM! Comment! (6) | Recommend! | Rate! All content copyright by dave. Please do not reproduce, recycle, or regurgitate without the express written consent of the CTU. The Indian Giant 193th day of 2006 They say a picture is worth a thousand words. However, as scientists have proven in recent years, a picture is actually only worth one great tale. Below you will find the tale of "The 7'10" Indian Giant and His Bodyguards" ... ... and so, concludes chapter 1 of my life in the city of angels and demons. Comment! (15) | Recommend! | Rate! | Categories: great khali [t], LA [t] All content copyright by dave. Please do not reproduce, recycle, or regurgitate without the express written consent of the CTU. the Russian giant 183th day of 2006 I woke up to the sound of pouring rain. Then it happened! A bolt of lightning tore through the skies--through my roof--and punched me in the face. It was the most painful punch in the face I have ever felt. It was more painful than the time I was boxing a Russian giant... time for a flashback. The date was the 164th day of 1486, before many of you were born. In fact, it even precedes my current birthdate. However, as you must already know, a true warrior like myself is reincarnated numerous times. So, on that fateful day, I stood tall, 4' 8" (back then, the average male height was 3' 11"). My name was Homres Raskalnivotor. I was quite handsome and often stared at myself in the mirror. I had just killed a snow monster and was carrying him home to feed my village of 164. Then it happened! A Russian giant jumped out from behind a boulder the size of the sun. I was caught by surprise and dropped the snow monster. At the instant, the Russian giant sucker punched me in the face. He then whispered into my ear, as I lay on the ground bleeding to death, "Çäðàâñòâóéòå. Ìíå íóæíî ïîãîâîðèòü ñ Åëåíîé. Çäðàâñòâóéòå. Åëåíó, ïîæàëóéñòà ãîâîðþ äîìà." Translated into English, those words were "Killed. You will be reborn. Alive. Lightning punch, seek prophecy of äîìà." I will never forget those words, as difficult as that may be, considering they seemed like complete gibberish. ... flashback ends. In a state of agonizing pain, it all became clear to me. The time has come for me to fullfill the prophecy of äîìà. As I'm sure you learned in school, äîìà was an ancient Russian god. He walked and lived amongst men, but no one mistook him for one, for he had green eyes and legs as long as the Euphrates River. He may have been known for acts of kindness, often producing golden roubles from the shedded hairs of wild blizzard wolves, but he is best known his prophecy. The prophecy of äîìà reads: Fly high, into the mighty sky, and smile down, into the eyes of a clown, and land slow, like a child who cannot grow, into the district of angels, where girls wear pearls of solid gold. And ergo, in two days, I will be living in Los Angeles, a magical and friendly land where there is so much gold that even the clams produce gold and give it for free to the smiling girls and boys who say "Thank you Mr. Clam." Then, the magical, talking, gold-producing clam responds, "Anytime, sirs and madames." Comment! (11) | Recommend! | Rate! | Categories: adventure [t], prophecy of äîìà [t], los angeles [t] All content copyright by dave. Please do not reproduce, recycle, or regurgitate without the express written consent of the CTU. |
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