If you type “define:vice president” into Google you get this:

Some scumbag whom nobody cares about.

Hahaha. I think what made me laugh is actually the word “whom.” There is something funny to me about someone who uses scumbag but then cares enough to use the word “whom” correctly. A+!

When you leave your house, please ask yourself this question. It will help you make important decisions:

Am I wearing enough clothes?

On Friday night I saw a girl wearing nothing but a t-shirt which barely covered the parts that should be covered. I am not like a puritan or amish or anything, but there are certain things that should be covered for sanitary purposes. It is more like a public health than a fashion thing. It wasn’t like a dress that was really small. It was seriously a shirt. Like an American Apparel shirt. I have one, in fact. I wear it with a little something called pants. She was a very tall and pretty girl with alien arms, perhaps a model of some kind, but she was not wearing enough clothes. She was just wearing really high heels and a shirt. I mean if I looked like her, I would totally work it too, but like, with pants on. No, she was not wearing a bikini and had come back from the beach. It was as if she forgot her pants. Like she woke up put on a shirt and said, OK! Let’s go! She was very tragic. I do not mean to be catty, but guess what? I am being catty. Rowr. Listen, pants, skirts, hot shorts, they are all good things that will allow you to work it. Please do not be afraid of them. They are there just for you. For you! Pants love you.

In college there was the Naked Guy who went to school totally, completely naked, which is redundant but I cannot explain to you how really truly utterly naked this guy was. He did carry a backpack though. I so did not want to be in his seat. It can get kind of hot, you know what I mean. The junk gets a little sticky. Just saying. It didn’t get that cold in Berkeley, but maybe he didn’t go to class on those days. I don’t remember. Anyway he tried to fight the school who was trying impose their rules, like dude, just wear some clothes, any clothes! I even think they were willing to forego shoes. But he refused and was eventually thrown out, I think. Don’t remember exactly. I do remember at one point he was arrested for standing on a roof, naked, and throwing stuff at police officers. Anyway what I’m saying here is that the Naked Guy also could’ve used some pants. But he didn’t believe in them. The model girl probably believes in pants but doesn’t feel the need to wear them. Is it two sides of the same coin? Probably not, but I happen to like pants. Also it is a funny word. Pants.

I just got back from the doctor for an annual exam. Everything is fine blah blah blah, but I have pretty low blood pressure. A doctor once asked me if I was “prone to passing out” and I was like “only after I drink a lot” and he did not think it was funny but you know doctors take their jobs seriously, which is probably a good thing. But come on, I’m wearing a paper nightgown, give me a little something here. I think I’d like to have a very funny doctor, it would kind of soften the blow when they go exploring if you know what I’m talking about. Anyway I’m totally off track here. I have low blood pressure. So my doctor says to eat “salty stuff” which is what I’m doing right now. I am eating a mountainous omelet full of cheese and cholesterol and salt. Then topped off with more cheese and cholesterol and salt. If I could, I would deep fry this whole thing in hydrogenated oils and then stuff it inside a buttered Big Mac and then deep fry that. Then I’d blend that shit, stick it in an IV bag and send it straight to my heart as I sit and watch TV and play video games, and I don’t mean Wii because that requires moving and certainly not Dance, Dance Revolution because that would go against my diet. But it doesn’t matter because I don’t have a deep fryer or a TV, so you see why this is all very difficult for me. So then my doctor said, “when you stand, don’t just stand.” And I was a little confused, like when you stand, you stand. It’s not like you can not stand when you are standing. That is why they call it standing and not like sitting or squatting or whatever. “You know, shift your weight around. Then you won’t pass out.” Hahaha I was like dude, I have never ever ever passed out from standing. She made it seem as if I had like no pulse at all. Like seriously, I swear, I am really, really good at standing. Like, I could teach standing professionally at Learning Tree or wherever.

Actually I adore my doctor, if anyone needs one, let me know. She really is awesome and on top of her game. But you know a little advice, when you stand, don’t just stand.

On Friday night I had drinks with a big group (read: architects) to honor Troy who was leaving OMA and heading off to teach at Rice. I think eight or nine offices were represented. At some point Troy tried to count but he was too wasted and got confused and then someone handed him a beer and he was not confused anymore. That is a good tactic. If someone is confused at work, hand him or her a beer. Suddenly, everything is clear. I’m telling you, it’s magic. Anyway that’s totally beside the point. We were drinking and dining al fresco, which is a fancy way of saying “eat and drink outside and watch Annie get eaten alive by mosquitoes.” Note that no one else got bit. I have no idea how this works, but I got something like eleven bites all over my legs.

So here is something interesting: mosquitoes feed mostly on nectar, but females are the ones that bite and feed on blood because they need the extra protein and iron to lay eggs. What I’m trying to say here is that the bitches are the ones causing problems and getting out of pocket. Also what I’m trying to say here is that the bitches love me. I need pants made out of Calamine lotion.

I almost forgot!

Today is Canada Day!

Happy Fourth of July, Canada.

Most of you will not care, unless you are Canadian.

I guess that means you, Doretta.

I like to make jokes. That is kind of what I do for a living, to varying degrees of success. Anyway once at band practice, I was playing the glockenspiel and we were messing around with a hot jam and I said, “I’ll put one hand on my glock.” I literally thought it was the funniest thing I have ever said even though it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever said (maybe) and then I laughed and laughed because I am not afraid to laugh at my own stupid jokes and then realized, shit, no one else was laughing. Instead they were filled with hate. These are my friends, mind you. Filled with hate. ONE HAND ON MY GLOCK!!!!!!! Come on! When do you ever get to make a joke about a glockenspiel? NEVER. It is a ONCE IN A LIFETIME opportunity, except we practice every week and it is absolutely ridiculous to think that I hadn’t even thought of that joke before now. Anyway, damn them. It was funny to me. I don’t know how comedians not laugh at their own jokes. It’s like too calculated. Like they’ve been practicing in front of a mirror. I like it when comedians kind of smile, but then sometimes when they smile they get the rep of being a smarmy dick, kind of like Michael Ian Black, who I think is awesome. It’s all confusing. Chris Rock does that. He’ll make a joke and he’ll smile, but there’s something about his smile where he is not really smiling at his own joke, but something else about his joke. His eyes are kind of crazy and opened wide and detached from their retinas. I dunno, when you see Chris Rock, just watch for it.

Oh that reminds me of another time in yoga class where the teacher was like talking about the head and was saying it was an eight-pound weight on your neck. Then she stopped, “It weighs eight-pounds, right?” And I was like “well mine weighs a lot more because it’s FILLED WITH KNOWLEDGE.” Hahahaha. Yeah. No one laughed at that one either.

Hello.

Annietown was down. I don’t know why.

But now it’s up.

I’m not sure what happened but it could be that my domain expired. It could also be that the server that hosts Annietown reset or went down for maintenance or maybe a new server was put in or maybe trolls got in there and did some damage, which happens more often than you think. Goddamn trolls, they are worse than the roaches. But as the saying goes, you pay for what you get. In other words, I don’t pay anything. My pal Ravi hosts Annietown out of the kindness of his own heart and this is not what he does for a living. He has another living he has to do before he can make sure my living is in fact living and living well. So, what I’m trying to say is that shit happens all the time, so I apologize, but it looks like I am back. Hello!

You know I had all these grand plans for Annietown. The banner up there was done in Flash and upon roll over everything caught on fire. Like EVERYTHING. Which I thought was totally sweet. I kept on telling Mika, who drew all the cute animals, I WANT MORE FIRE. MORE MORE FIRE. EVERYTHING HAS TO BE ON FIRE. And she was like, you’re being ridiculous, it’ll look stupid, and I was like SHUT UP, I SAID MORE GODDAMN FIRE! There were also these cute little icons that were supposed to pop up whenever you rolled over the links over there <———-. But you know what? All that stuff is not up. Because I am lazy. And also because I don’t know how to do that stuff and must rely on Nathan to help me out but he too has another living he does before he can make my living totally awesome. So the whole point of this is that Annietown is alive. It needs a renovation. I would like a bigger kitchen, which would go really well with a bigger apartment. But hey, listen, I’m not complaining. I’ve got my health, friends, family, and air conditioning.

Erin has delivered some horrible and disappointing news. You guys better sit down for this. Also remove all rope and sharp objects within your reach. I do not want you to hurt yourselves or do anything stupid. I care about all of you.

Someone stole my HOMIES idea! Check it out. Thief! Thief! Granted, this Andrea person did a far better job than anything I could ever do, but then again, all these locations were FAKED and not LIVE and not taken ALL OVER THE GLOBE, from the upper east side all the way to South Australia via some Middle Eastern place with a lot of money and architects. Why am I not famous and rich and getting driven around my Hummer stretch limo with the jacuzzi with the top down and bitchez up? Just saying. Just kidding. Clearly being an artist is worse than being a writer. It’s one of those things where I should’ve told my parents I was going to be an artist so they’d get super disappointed and then I’d say, ha ha ha just kidding, I want to be a writer and then they’d feel a little better because hey, at least I am not an artist. It would’ve distracted them from the fact that I wasn’t you know, a doctor or something. So that is the lesson I guess. Disappoint people even more before you actually disappoint them. Try it at work. This strategy is watertight.

So I am doing this thing with the typewriters. I place typewriters around Governor’s Island and let people type whatever they want on them to make an “Analog Internet.” I finally have all the typewriters I need, but now I must get typewriter ribbon. Real pain in the ass. However this is New York. You can get everything here. From seventeenth-century Russian tea cups to Chinatown turtles that have salmonella.

Anyway there’s this stationary store next to my office that’s been there for, I dunno, a thousand years. It’s kind of charming. Very disorganized. I think they have a cat. There’s a big sign in the window that says WE HAVE FILOFAX REFILLS. I mean who has Filofax anymore? Maybe the kind of person who ALSO has typewriter ribbons! Ah, I am smart. I go in.

“Hi there, do you have typewriter ribbon by any chance?”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
“OK nevermind.”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! A TYPEWRITER? ARE YOU KIDDING?”
“No, I’m serious. I need just the ribbon.”
“HAHAHAHAHAH! WHO USES A TYPEWRITER ANYMORE? HAHAHA I’VE NEVER HEARD ANYTHING THAT FUNNY IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!”
“Yeah that’s great. Do you know of a place that might have….”
“HAHAHAHA! A TYPEWRITER! ARE YOU FOR REAL? WHAT? YOU LIVE IN THE ICE AGES?”
“No, it’s for a project…”
“A TYPEWRITER! TYPEWRITER RIBBON! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS. WHERE DO YOU WORK? THE MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY?”
“Alright, thank you.”
“No, no we have it, it’s on that wall.”
I look at the wall. It’s not the right typewriter ribbon. In fact, it’s INK CARTRIDGES.
“Uh no, that’s not it.”
“HAHAHAHA I KNOW THAT’S FOR PRINTERS. MAYBE YOU SHOULD GET ONE.”
“Thanks, have a nice…”
“NO WAIT! Let me make some calls.”
He calls up someone.
“PAUL? YOU THERE? PAUL? HAHAHAH SOME LADY HERE NEEDS TYPEWRITER RIBBON, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? YOU DO THAT KIND OF STUFF RIGHT?”

So the people who advertise proudly that they have FILOFAX REFILLS cannot even BELIEVE people use typewriters. This is insane. I mean does anyone use organizers anymore? Not even soccer moms use that shit. At least typewriters, you know, look cool.Hemingway wrote all of his books on a typewriter. You know Hemingway right? He used to work for the Museum of Natural History.

Anyway, the douche sends me to Paul. Paul’s ’store’ is not really a store. More like an office on the fourth floor filled with crap. Paul’s place is wall to wall typewriters. They repair typewriters. The antique, dope kind. The kind that I have. I get my typewriter ribbon. This is ALL THAT FIRST GUY HAD TO SAY. “Sorry lady, we don’t carry typewriter ribbon here, but why not visit Paul, down the block. He specializes in antique typewriters.” That’s all he had to say. I mean really, how hard is that?

Then on my way home, I was behind a guy who was smoking and then he FLICKED HIS CIGARETTE BEHIND HIM which then HIT ME IN THE LEG. And he had absolutely NO idea. I wanted to sucker punch him. I just stood there kind of shocked. I mean who flicks a cigarette BEHIND them. No one does that. This is how fires get started and San Diego burns down. This is also how people catch on fire. Just saying. Plus it’s rush hour, there should be no flicking of cigarettes in a crowded street. I mean just throw it down and step on it, right? So there’s this guy standing near me and he was like “Make him apologize to you! Go!” But by that point smoker was gone. The guy was obviously smoking pole since he was such an enormous dick.

So today, I got a double-helping of douchery. A double-helping! I was trying to cut down on the douchery, you know, to look good in a bathing suit this summer. (Ha ha ha JK I avoid the beach because I hear there is sunshine there and I don’t really do well under those conditions.) So, in short, once again, people are dicks. I know I’ve said this before and I should expect it, but really it just constantly surprises me. I guess this is the “mystery of life” people are always talking about.

The Europeans are taking over New York City because the dollar is like the limp-wristed kid in gym class that gets shoved in a locker and the Euro is all hopped on on roids and captain of the varsity football team. So now everyday I hear people say “Oh it eez zooo cheap here!” and a little piece of me dies. Yesterday I bought half a sandwich, soup, and a coffee and it cost like eleven dollars. It was one of those situations where you are in the line and you are like, eleven dollars? Really? Can I return the coffee?

Anyway so this European stopped me for directions and I gave it to him. I get stopped for directions all the time because I look non-threatening. That is what happens when you are Asian. You look non-threatening. Even if you are holding sweet ninja stars, people will be like, those are sweet Hello Kitty ninja stars, also, where is the Apple store? Anyway I don’t really mind. So I told this guy where he could find the Apple store so he could buy like six iPhones because they are so cheap. (The Apple store is actually limiting how many you can buy.) Anyway I tell him very nicely and then he says,

“Arrigato!”

BLEARH!

Are you kidding me? I cannot STAND this. If I had a drink in my hand I would’ve thrown it in his face. This is why I should always have a drink in my hand. So I can throw it in people’s faces. I’ve never done that before, but it looks very satisfying. Once in London, Rosalyne (who is Taiwanese) and I were in some bar and this guy came up to us and bowed and said “Arrigato” and we were both like. No. That’s rude and tried to explain it. And the dude just couldn’t understand. So we gave up. There is no cure for stupidity, that was a harsh lesson learned, my friends.

So I guess the lesson here is that if you see an Asian on the street, please don’t say “arrigato.” Instead say “ni ho ma” or just give them the finger.

On a separate note, Hello Kitty ninja stars would be amazing.