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dave
Age. 41
Gender. Male
Ethnicity. Chinese
Location Valley Village, CA
School. Cornell Univ
» More info.
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).

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