say hello to my little friend

Ain’t she purty?  I searched for Dodge Stratus SE and got this pic.  It looks about the same, except mine has a roof window.

If I were dictator…

I wish there to be no more babies in the world.  Everyone, please get your tubes tied or something.  Adopt and make love to robots, now.  I declare tomorrow to be National No Babies Day.  Also, prisoners should be innoculated with the AIDs virus or be encouraged to pass it around.  Criminals owe a debt to society, so why should society be the one to pay for criminals?  Why do criminals get to be so privileged with medical treatment, video games, weight room, college education, and free anal probing?  How does that deter crime at all?  We are paying them to not rape kids and kill random people?  What? No way!  At least put them in a gulag or cane them five times a day.  I say, let’s rid ourselves of these parasites by using parasitic viruses!  Irony?  Yes, and I am snickering, probably by myself.  Human rights?  Don’t be silly!  American prisons are like four star hotels to people in North Korea.  It’s ridiculous to think that prisoners have it better than the homeless.  It’d be better if we just kill off all criminals or let them die naturally, then use prison space to help the poor and homeless.  No, better yet, have criminals servicing the homeless! Yea!  Vote for me, dictator!

Because everyone needs to get in touch with their inner starving artist

After reading some Dino Comics and a whole bunch more, I decided that I wasn’t going to just stand by idly while the whole world made comics.  No, I too can make an artistic eye-sore yet slyly entertaining to the in-crowd comic in less than 2 minutes a piece. 

Paraplegic, hemiplegic, quadriplegic, are words that rhyme with strategic

Cathy: What does ODE stand for?
Me [blinking]: …D’uh.
Cathy: Well, what is it?
Me [thinking]: … D’uh.
Cathy: …
Me [cheerily]: Does that help?

Later, Joey comes dashing into the room to attack me with a wooden sword.  He strikes me a few times and I scramble after him.  Along the way, I pick up a pen and begin marking up his arms with precision attacks.  Joey retreats and I yell after him, “HAHAH the pen is mightier than the sword!”

Me [motioning fireball]: +3 attack!
Joey [lying on the floor listlessly]: +5 million trillion super attack!
Joey: +infinity shield of shieldiness!
Joey: I win.
Cathy: How old are you guys?

I think I will write a story about an amazing baby, a Priest, and a….paraplegic paraplegic paraplegic…

It’s like there’s a zombie trying to burst out of my skull and I’m clawing to get it out

I have asorbed all that is 389 pages of Acid Zen Wonder Paint, within two days.  Here’s a favorite quote that I can still find.

In life, you’ve got to look at the silver lining, y’know? There are lots of advantages to being as shockingly ugly as I am.

Like, only blind women will even consider dating me. And guess what? Blind women tend to have great personalities! Take that, handsome men!

Also, whenever I take someone to a nice restaurant, the managementalways offers me several hundred dollars to leave and never come back!They always say, “Sir, take the money and go. There are people tryingto eat seafood here, for God’s sake.”

Oh, and I almost forgot, I always get into movies for free! WheneverI walk up to buy a ticket, the person behind the glass vomits andstarts screaming “GO! JUST GO IN THE THEATER! INTO THE DARKNESS WHEREYOU BELONG!”

The glass is truly half-full!


Today, I came to the stunning conclusion, once again, that I am retarded.  Wiki-ing ROM today just opened up a Pandora’s Box of infinite realization of self stupidity.  D’uhhhhh…

Based on a true story by Acid Zen Wonder Paint

My sister loves intelligent debate. She just can’t get enough ofwell-informed discussion between two clear-thinking and intelligentpeople.

Usually, she will try this bag of baloney crap-on-a-stick with me.

In order to curb such ridiculous behavior, I make a point ofdeliberately providing frustrating and ignorant replies to herlegitimate societal queries. When asked about my feelings, Iwill respond with “moo cows” and then pretend to be her alarm clock, letting out monotone beeps. If asked to commiserate in a girly fashion about a girly topic, I will once again respond with “moo cows,” only inthis case I will begin singing Goldigger in a mock, off-key falsetto.


Give me liberty or give me food

I have two months left of social, information, personal imprisonment, and then Freedom!  I think the technological backwardness of this place is the most infuriating of all things, like squeezing information toothpaste from the end of the tube.  I can be isolated from, never to  speak to, and never to see parentally unsanctioned people (99.99% of people on Earth) as much as my parents would like.  That’s easy.  Good God, if you have or will soon have or have the potential to have STDs, just leave me alone is my philosophy, at least for the acquaintance crowd that never quite make the cut.  In fact, my levels of misanthropy, misogyny (equal opportunity hater?), and antisocial behavior are reaching an all-time high.  I can’t stand, however, that I simply am not allowed to do anything.  This is the most stifling non-denominational, Puritan household you will find in this decade.  As soon as I am not within physical reach of this stranglehold, you can count on me to just go nuts-o-rama and elope-tastic with Freedom, once again.  The first thing I want to do is everything I am not allowed to do!  Spend money recklessly, not study, and socialize!  Even if I don’t like it!  Ha!  This craze will simply not bode well with all of the Asian brainwashing I’ve suffered for so long.  Clearly, psychotically parental parenting is the most psychotic creation on Earth.  Clearly, it’s ballz.

Er, well, now that I got that out of my system, what I mean to say is, I hope I make a lot of new and great, lifetime friends.  I’m going to save as much of my money for investment as possible.  I will pack a lunch/snack everyday and only eat out on occassion with my new and great lifetime friends.  I’ll exercise, hike, dance, yoga, work out, read, study with my new and great lifetime friends. 

The amazing pathos of human drama deeply entrenched within my bowels

I have nothing really important to say, nothing personally significant to share in a melodramatic way, nor anything that is not boring to a casual audience.  So, this will be a fictional post, a post of babbling nonesence, if you will.  No, I take all of that back. 

Have you ever wondered why common, white paper has the dimensions 8 x 11 inches?  Why don’t they make paper, nowadays, to conform to the 11 x 8, more or less, standards of a laptop screen?  Why don’t they make a laptop screen more like the 8 x 11 dimension of paper?  I imagine that’d be sort of difficult to engineer since the keyboard isn’t meant to be in that shape, and it’d result in one ugly laptop.  Imagine typing with one hand placed on top and above the other hand.  Very awkward.  Everytime I’m trying to read a pdf on my laptop, I’m always wishing it were more like paper, so that I don’t have to scan across the screen so far per line, without compromising the font size.  On the other hand, if I had a stack of 11 x 8 papers in my hands, I imagine the papers wouldn’t stand up so well when I’m flipping through them, with my hands held parallel before me. 

And you know what else bothers me?  Oh, rain the commiseration down upon me!  Yes, I am greatly irked by poor middle management, even though I have yet to work one day in my life.  The biggest complaint everywhere is that the managers don’t have any idea what it’s like to be a technical knowledge worker, so they impose ridiculous schedules and deadlines.  One side of the story is that the nerds don’t understand that they aren’t developing technology because it’s cool but because they’re satisfying customers, with the manager the customers’s representative, and the other side is that–well–managers still have no idea what they’re doing.  The clueless manager stereotype leads me to wonder why in the world would we elect these people into their positions?  Why aren’t the whiny nerds taking a stand and filling these positions for the good of geek-kind?  It’s ironic that, in college, the engineering majors are looking down at the other majors, but in the work place those other majors turn around and manage the engineers.  On a larger scale, the looked down majors turn around and become our senators, politicians, and leaders.  Why are the most influential roles given to these people?  It really should be the other way around.  Although, if that were true, and the unqualified people were becoming engineers, this world would be filled with horrendous technological disasters, as opposed to social disasters, crime, and corruption.  Instead, cell phones would be exploding by the minute, bridges and buildings would be collapsing, and planes would be falling out of the sky, if we even get this far ahead in technology altogether.  So better than having things the other way around, anyone given an influential role should be certified, maybe more effectively than it is now, the same way a doctor, lawyer, and engineer would be.  I wonder why this isn’t so.  Or, it might be even better to sacrifice exponential technological growth for civics done right.


Looking back, I used to think that the time after emigrating to United States was probably the unhappiest time of my life.  From there, things got better in elementary school because I found some playmates, but slowly life worsened in middle school, and then dipped to the lowest after the start of high school.  In retrospect, the four years of high school were the worst times of my life.  In elementary and middle school, I had a few good childhood friends, but I was never allowed to leave the house because I had additional homework besides schoolwork.  When I finished my additional homework of english, chinese, and math, I wasn’t allowed to play with my friends, so I just read.  I wasn’t too upset because I really loved a good book.  We moved shortly after I started high school, so I lost my childhood friends, and I felt burnt out physically and mentally.  I couldn’t do well at school anymore no matter how hard I tried.  I just felt unwell; I always felt tired and depressed, like a progressively worsening mental illness.  Towards the end of senior year, amid AP prep, I gave anorexia a whirl (for a month of two), and got really bad bronchitis, probably as a result.  I thought things would get better once I went to college, because it was freedom I wanted all along, for almost as long as I could remember.  The depression never really went away, maybe worsened even through college, until the past year or so, when I finally realized that being so mopey would never help me gain freedom.  I think I always associated with anything I wanted to do with some sort of stigma, whether it be hanging out or spending money, simply because it was not really my time nor my money.  I couldn’t enjoy the things I wanted to do and I definitely didn’t enjoy what I was supposed to do.  It always felt like the guilt, the isolation, the meaningless labor, and the all work and no play days would never end.  I suddenly realized, or cared, that being financially independant would mean personal independance, forever, so I had to work hard to get off of my sorry emotional rollercoaster.  I just might be happy for once!  So all of this time, the frugality, the freedoms lost, the work ethic that I resented and that my parents wished me to have were all for my own good, at least in the best way they knew how.  How ironic.  Although, maybe, it wasn’t my forte to be in engineering and I might have been successful in something easier, something more fun, I couldn’t bear to leave UoI without an ECE degree.  What an awful four years!  If I think about college, I think about how painful it was.  I can’t regret it though, and I’d do it again (hopefully better). 

I wonder now, what would be the future of a EE into photonics and semiconductors turned CompE for embedded systems with an eye towards english, writing, and literature?  What a strange mash-up I am.


Everyday, my brother comes home from school, deals with mom, and comes upstairs to push me over and to tell me to install Fable.  After weeks of bullying from my little brother at precisely 3 pm, he finally managed to distract me long enough to begin installing Fable onto my laptop.  Fable was not meant to be played on this poor machine.  The characters looked fine, but lagged like a 3D MMORPG.  The textures were truly not aesthetic.  Rivers of Urine grace this magical kingdom, where the ground is covered with blinding snow regardless of season… What will you choose?  Good or Evil?  Too bad, I would have liked to play it.

My sister sheds a lot hair.  I think all girls do.  Sometimes, when my brother is bored, he will start collecting a massive pile of hair and dust bunnies, in my sister’s room alone.  At first, he started collecting giant balls of hair, which he’d hurl at my sister, crying “Rasengon! [anime fireball]”  She’d shriek and be repulsed.  I’d watch, laugh, and encourage more recklessness.  Good times!  Lately, he’s been starting to hoard this hair harvest in a small box, which is labelled hazardous waste.  I’m following his disgusting exploits with morbid curiosity: Just how much hair does my sister shed in a month?

Otherwise, life is dull, and centered around my self-study.  I’m starting to read Wikipedia for fun.

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