There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


More random crap -- what did you expect?

So last night I had a glass or two of wine spodieodie to help me sleep, which it didn't. In a state of tipsy sleeplessness, I made some notes in the back of the crappy Dan Brown novel I'm currently reading. These notes:

reality tv - debt
romance novel
Chinese British accent
Dan Brown sucks

The last one is self-explanatory, because Dan Brown does, indeed, suck in a spectacular fashion.

The others need some explanation. I know that there are more reality tv whores out there than just me and Pimp. We might be the worst, but there have to be more or there wouldn't be 500 different reality programs on for our viewing pleasure. I mean, does Mark Burnett have more money than P Diddy right now, or what? A lot of American reality shows are directly stolen from British reality tv, a trend that I expect to continue, given the current creative drought in TV-land. In that hope, we can look forward to a clone of The Bank of Mum and Dad, a show about people who are in an amazing, fabulous, incredibly massive amount of debt. These people have to hand their credit cards over to their parents, learn how to cook, learn how to check their own oil, and frequently, move home. The humiliation is exquisite. The parents make their debt-ridden children model clothing they should never have purchased,like a 250 Gucci jacket, then roll their eyes in disgust. It's just awful to watch, and you just can't stop.

On to the romance novel: Her emerald green eyes flashed in defiance as she felt his eyes sweep over her, appraising her, violating her. Her long auburn hair tumbled about her shoulders.

"Bring her closer," the captain ordered gruffly.

His servant thrust her closer to him, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, his unshaven face, close enough that she could smell his manly scent.

The captain leered at her, licking his lips. He took in her full, ripe breasts straining against her thin cotton chemise, the pink peaks of her nipples just visible through the fabric; her slim waist swelling into full, womanly hips, and her long, coltish legs.

I'm just sayin'. A monkey could do it.

I work in a company that employs many, many native Chinese, Taiwanese, and Korean employees (all in the same department, which I call the Crazy 88s). I used to go to a "university" at which more that half of the students were also native Chinese and Taiwanese. (Guess what!! They pay waaay more in tuition!! The "education" that you get there is non-existant!!) Most of these people speak mathematics quite fluently, but their English is a bit (ahem) difficult to comprehend. I refer you to to experience the sort of experience I have had on a regular basis. Here in the UK, however, most of the Asian people I have met are either British or Australian natives, and every time the speak, my eyes bug out of my head because they're speaking grammatical English with a British accent. I know, it should stop being surprising at SOME point, but I'm not there yet. I mean, think about it. What if Gedde Watanabe sounded just like Crocodile Dundee? Wouldn't you laugh til you wet your pants, just a little?

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