So today, I embarked upon a pre-closing solo mio. For those that don't have greasy hair and spaghetti stains on their wife-beaters, that means "all by myself" in Italian-talk. Yes, Julia, I am mocking your people. Now go make another pizza and tell me how spicy thine meatballs are. Mama mia! Anywho, as the pre-closing winded down, the client decided to ask me some crazy property question that I had no idea about. Without getting into privileged areas, it was way over my head. I apologized and stated that I had just started as an attorney (LIE!) as I just graduated law school last year. Of course, the following question was "Oh really? Where did you go to school?" Since I'm a firm believer of honesty, I chose to say "THE University of Alabama" instead of some school up north that rhymes with Carvard. Of course, said client made a face that can only be described as that face from when the cop in Dumb and Dumber played by Harlan Williams drank the "beer" in Dumb and Dumber. Before I could offer a defense of "Well, sir, we ARE ranked in the top 40 nationally!", he stated that he had an in-law who went to 'Bama. And yes, sadly, anyone who's from or been to the state can probably guess what comes next. " Man, he's the dumbest sumbitch I've ever met. I have no idea how he graduated." With an eye on the attorney's fees he was handing over, I nodded and begrudingly stated that "Yes, there are some bad apples, just like any school." Well, of course, he went to UGA, which NEVER produces riff-raff of the nature at 'Bama. He went on to talk about how said in-law would get all upset over 'Bama games and talk constently about how great things were "when Bear was there". To prevent a scene, I decided to say that "Well, I don't really keep up with college football." After his incredulous "Oh really?", I stated that football wasn't really big in the Asian culture. Wow. Yes, I will admit that to prevent any further issues, I disavowed being a die-hard Bama fan. As many know, normally I would fight tooth and nail in saying that Alabama ain't that bad. But, alas, a paycheck is pretty good. And hell, I'm tabbed as an "Uncle Wang" anyways, so I guess selling out is just in my blood. In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't be divulging these events, but hey, if the client happens to stumble upon this pathetic blog, more power to him. I'll buy you a shot of Alabama Slammer. Oh, and ROLL FUCKING TIDE!

Sigh.....I got nothing to say...

Posted by Victor at 9:15 PM | Permalink | Comments

Everybody is familiar with one of the worst aspects of a Monday morning. After a too-short weekend, you have to wake your sleepy ass up. Normally, in March and in SPRING TIME, it should not be particularly terrible as its not 45 degrees outside in the freaking SOUTH. Alas, with Mother Nature deciding to get off her Ritalin, the weather sucks. Nothing is worse than having to drag yourself out of the warm comfort of bed to go to work on a cold and dreary day. After receiving an interesting link, I found out that there are some amazing alarm clocks.


The one on the left lays eggs when the clock goes off. Yes. Lays eggs. You have to collect these eggs and drop them in the basket for the alarm to shut off. I don't know how it works either, but, man, looking for tiny eggs while half asleep seems like a recipe for disaster. Especially for those that wear contacts and are kind of blind, it'd seem like a helluva time moping around in the dark. It'd be like [insert name of friend]'s girlfriend/wife searching for his dong! Hooray for generic, non-offending jokes! Anyways, the 2nd alarm is even crazier. When the alarm goes off, that little flying thing goes zipping around you like a damn whirly-bird! You gotta catch that thing and replace it on the base for the alarm to go off. Again, this seems like something that in theory is supposed to get you out of bed. In practice, I can imagine many alarms being smashed. But then again, I do giggle at the image of myself swatting weakly at the flying alarm. And I always think that a believable and plausible excuse for being late to work is that "Sir, I couldn't find all the eggs to put back in my basket", followed by "Well, my mom may have had a beer or two back then, but why do you ask?"

Posted by Victor at 11:02 AM | Permalink | Comments

I think this picture above speaks volumes about our nation's state-of-affairs. By just looking into that foresaken boy's eyes, you can see the hate that is already growing. White people will steal your stuff! Be it slang, rap, culture, land or even food, whitey's a comin' for it! And, in defense to those who can't take a joke and say I'm white-bashing, I can finally utter these great words: "I'm not racist, I have many white friends."

Posted by Victor at 10:22 AM | Permalink | Comments

Well, to take a quick break in between the exciting action of the Big Dance, let me tell you kids about the great adventure I had a couple of days ago. Whilst chatting on-line with Mrs. McKie, I had the misfortune of being harrassed by a wasp. In a panic, I asked Mel from some advice in how to deal with a wasp in my room. Her witty retort? "Well, is she attractive?" Har har har. For those that don't get the joke, look up WASP. Anyways, I've had many duels and run-ins with the animal kinngom. I've swallowed a swarm of gadflys, been licked by a giraffe, sat on a horse as it pooped, spat on by a chimp, and argued with a dog on at least two occasions of who gets the last piece of Popeyes. Yet, this wasp was HUGE. I've never been stung by a bee before, so I don't know if I'm allergic or not. So, Mel's advice was to open all the doors and windows. No dice. So, I figured that either Lysol or some form of aerosol spray would do the job. Armed with Sam's Choice Disinfectant/Air Freshner all-in-one, I sprayed that sucker. Well, I tell you there was a bunch of high-pitched squealing and running around. After opening my eyes, all I know is that the room smelled of fresh spring daisys and wasp-free. I had succeeded......or so I thought. Just today, as I was fixing myself a Foreman-Grill cheese sammich, I heard a buzzing. That bastard survived. He/she was nesting comfortably next to Einstein's poster. Sadly, he then absconded to the roof. Due to my lack of "mad hops", I feared that a ill-timed jump would lead to a pissed-off wasp. After a few test jump-swats in the bedroom, I decided not to tempt fate. So, I MacGuyvered about 6 law school books into a make-shift step-stool. In the sneakiest way possible (as my people are good at) and aided with my friends Con Law, Mergers and Acquisition, Torts, Banking Law, Trust Law, and Securities, we woooped that wasp's ass. The moral of my adventure? "If you believe in yourself, drink your school, stay in drugs, and don't do milk, you can get work." Then, you too can stop wearing shorts on the weekday. Heh.

SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVEN!!! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!

Posted by Victor at 9:33 PM | Permalink | Comments

Top o' the morning to ye! Hopefully everybody is wearing some green or a virtual pinch shall occur. As for the tournament, ROLL TIDE! Also, exactly one year to this day, UAB defeated LSU in the tournament. For those that recall, it was during our law school St. Paddy's day party with the 80s theme. Yep, I was rocking the sweet sunglasses and the pseudo-goatee whilst taunting Blue unmercilessly b/c LSU was sucking. Good times. Anywho, drink up the green beer, jig it up and do your best Teddy Kennedy impressions! My personal favorite of his? "I...err..uh...seemed to have misplaced my pants."

Posted by Victor at 12:19 PM | Permalink | Comments

Alright boys and girls, I'm sure all of y'all are in at least 13 brackets for your office pools and whatnot. Anyways, I figure it'd be fun to have a FREE bracket just for my loyal readers. All it takes to join is to have a yahoo account. Easy enough. For those that don't understand computers, you can go to fantasysports.yahoo.com and then look for the sign-up for the NCAA tournament. Create your pick list and then join an existing group, then join a private group. The info you need is below:

League ID: 81862
Password: victor

If you join, just post something in the message board in the league saying who you are. I figure the next time we all get together, wherever and whenever that day will be, we can buy the winner a beer. Or punch them in the face. Either way, join up even if you don't know the difference between the NCAA and the NAACP (hint - ummm, well...I'm not gonna touch that). Remember, the games start this Thursday, so get cracking. Feel free to pass the info to whomever as it is free, so it's just for shits and giggles and a place to pick the wild upsets.

Oh, and as a non-sequitar, somebody mentioned that the comments have gotten virulent and a bit harsh, especially towards me. First off, I know most of the commenters, so it's gravy as those douches are like family. For those "anonymous" comments that sometimes anger up the blood, let me say now that I won't censor unless its just purely pointless. My pappy didn't leave China so that his baby boy would grow up to be a stinking Commie!

Making Pappy Proud! (No, its not me)

Posted by Victor at 8:05 PM | Permalink | Comments

Well, as UAB and Alabama marches on towards the Big Dance, another team dear to my heart ended their season. Yes, our team trivia league, Steve Perry Fan Club, held the finals at the prestigious 755 Club in Turner Field. Alas, the $5,000 grand prize was not ours to be had, but 18th ain't too shabby out of 100 teams. The question that proved fatal? What are the 12 characteristics in the Boy Scouts credo. Yeah, well if they allowed Asians to be Scouts, I would have known. (it's not true, but it makes for a good scapegoat to blame Whitey.) But, the tournament had its plus as I was able to walk around Turner Field and take in grandeur of it all. It's quite a sight to see and now I shall lower my alcoholic tastes to save up money for season tickets. I'm afraid its back to the 100 Pipers scotch. In a related note, we got free tickets to the Renaissance Fair. Yep, ye olde faire. To make it better, there were representatives at the finals who dressed the part. So yes, there were some maidens with their bosoms overflowing. Sadly, they were about 40 years too old and a few inches too saggy. Doth, I protest! Yea verily, such sights tis not for the weaketh of heart. I first scoffed at the idea of the Renaissance Fair, but then I thought about it. Where else can I get the chance to sup on legs of turkey and pork roasting on thine spit. Further, I love speaking like ye olde English. Zounds! But hey, if I can drag someone there, it'll be fun to get drunk on mead, rock out to ye olde lute, hit on the fair maidens and fake offense whenever someone says "Hark, there seems to be a chink in thou armor!"

Posted by Victor at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments

Unfortunately, my cooking prowess has always been, shall we say, pathetic. It takes true talent to mess up macaroni and cheese. (How you ask? Let's just say that I was unfamiliar with the concept of "straining".) Irregardless (it's a word, look it up if you don't believe me) of said lapse of culinary ability, I decided to try my hand at an exotic dish. This weekend, Papa Kang came calling and we had a fun shopping trip in the ethnic 'hood of Atlanta. Of course, the stereotype of Chinese markets and their "crazy" food was proven quite true. For those who have a weak stomach, perhaps this would be a good time to find nude pictures of your favorite celebrity and stop reading. My little eye did spy in the meat section a delicacy of the lapine variety. That's right, rabbit. The rabbit was essentially in the form of a whole chicken: no head, but it the complete package. You could see its haunches and etc. Now, I've had squirrel once thanks to the cookeration of Grammy Harrison. Let me say that it was delicious. Squirrel gravy and biscuits was a delight. Thus, with a hankering for furry mammals, I decided to try my hand at rabbit. After thawing, I decided to go with 3 options: stew it, fry it and Foreman Grill it. To fry it, I took the...well....arms of the rabbit and breaded it with some Shake n Bake. Result? Well, I burned the fuck out of it so I really didn't taste anything. Now the apartment reeks. For the Foreman, I just cut a few slices off the breast/chestal area (is it called the breast? I don't know. Maybe its the flank.) With a little bit of soy sauce, the meat was pretty tasty. As for the stew part, it's currently in progress. As I type, that wascally wabbit is sitting in a pot with tomato paste, potatoes, carrots and some soy sauce.

*UPDATE* - Well, it's around 11:30 and I tasted the "stew." Amazingly, I did not magically gain the ability of cooking. Maybe I'm not fan of stew in general, but irregardless, it sucked. I think I should just stick with fast food and Hot Pockets. For someone whose biggest culinary feat was BBQing on a grill, this step may have been a bit too optimistic. Now after finding the picture below, I feel guilty for eating such a cute animal. Maybe the rabbit I cooked deserved to be eaten because he was racist or supported Al-Qaeda.

Yes, I am an evil man for eating such a cutie.

Posted by Victor at 7:32 PM | Permalink | Comments

Well, I'm sitting here taking a breather from a refinance from hell and I have literally nothing humorous to parlay. But, I do happen to look at many funny websites on the interweb, so I'll instead use other's humor in my stead. Inside jokes will abound, so hopefully at least a couple of y'all will enjoy. And in response to those who trashed on Hil. Umm...well, YOU'RE horse-faced. I'd say that cocaine's a helluva drug, but methinks she may have a taste for the yam-yam.

Yes, I know this is old news, but hell, I still get a kick out of it. Oh, and there's audio in the following links, but it's safe for work.

Milton misses his stapler

Posted by Victor at 2:55 PM | Permalink | Comments