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I'm responding here because Red China blocks .blogspot. URLs but not .blogger. URLs. So I can post and view posts in the Edit section, but not the actual site. Just another example of how absurd Red China is. Another example? I think they are blocking AIM during working hours, which is most of the fucking day for most teachers, from early morning to late evening, though not the foreign English teachers. I think this because it started recently and recently I installed AIM on a Chinese English teacher's computer so she could chat. Probably a no go here in oppressive Red China. Or maybe I'm just paranoid.
But to clarify. I'm not treated poorly. I actually have it pretty nice, working only a few hours a day and getting paid much more than most everyone else in China, making living easy. Hell, I wasted three weeks of class by showing Finding Nemo. But it is the system that treats everyone poorly, relatively. It's just take advantage of and cut corners in order to make more money. I fought back. And I like bitching.
But regarding Khuu's post: Are you calling me fat?
No, really, I don't remember how the cake got on the door. I think it was Ai-Tam's apartment, though, not Tony's. And I smeared the cake when the ringing and knocking went unanswered. Maybe because Ai-Tam was the only one there and she had gone back to her place? Wait a minute...then maybe it was Tony's apartment, but Tony wasn't there, Ai-Tam was supposed to answer, but she had stepped out, and yadda yadda yadda there's cake smeared all over the door.
But in my defence, I cleaned it up very well. That's what I remember thinking that night. I think we were stoned as well as drunk and you do funny things while both. Like clean up cake from doors really well. That's the only thing I remember from that night. Thinking, Damn, I cleaned this cake up really well. This door looks pretty fucking clean, I am amazing at cleaning cake off doors. If cleaning cake off doors was an Olympic sport, I would dominate all categories. French doors, bank vault doors, ripped screen doors that are attached by one hinge to a redneck's trailer. And when the doping tests came back negative, the world would be amazed. They'd ponder my giant head and resting heart rate of 21 BPM and think I must have used Bach's urine to beat the rap. Which has absolutely no performance enhancing substances. Including the nutrients needed to live.
But back to the most important point: Are you calling me fat, bitch!?!
362 days left for Bach to get laid by a laaadyyy
(I think we should tag every post with that from here on out)
But to clarify. I'm not treated poorly. I actually have it pretty nice, working only a few hours a day and getting paid much more than most everyone else in China, making living easy. Hell, I wasted three weeks of class by showing Finding Nemo. But it is the system that treats everyone poorly, relatively. It's just take advantage of and cut corners in order to make more money. I fought back. And I like bitching.
But regarding Khuu's post: Are you calling me fat?
No, really, I don't remember how the cake got on the door. I think it was Ai-Tam's apartment, though, not Tony's. And I smeared the cake when the ringing and knocking went unanswered. Maybe because Ai-Tam was the only one there and she had gone back to her place? Wait a minute...then maybe it was Tony's apartment, but Tony wasn't there, Ai-Tam was supposed to answer, but she had stepped out, and yadda yadda yadda there's cake smeared all over the door.
But in my defence, I cleaned it up very well. That's what I remember thinking that night. I think we were stoned as well as drunk and you do funny things while both. Like clean up cake from doors really well. That's the only thing I remember from that night. Thinking, Damn, I cleaned this cake up really well. This door looks pretty fucking clean, I am amazing at cleaning cake off doors. If cleaning cake off doors was an Olympic sport, I would dominate all categories. French doors, bank vault doors, ripped screen doors that are attached by one hinge to a redneck's trailer. And when the doping tests came back negative, the world would be amazed. They'd ponder my giant head and resting heart rate of 21 BPM and think I must have used Bach's urine to beat the rap. Which has absolutely no performance enhancing substances. Including the nutrients needed to live.
But back to the most important point: Are you calling me fat, bitch!?!
362 days left for Bach to get laid by a laaadyyy
(I think we should tag every post with that from here on out)
1 Comments:
Hilarious.
By
David, at 1/03/2006 1:46 PM
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