...if this is your first night, you have to fight.

home babes email me

Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Seek and Ye Shall Find...
the occasional rueful laugh.

Yeah, so I planned on working on some of the remaining pages tonight, but somehow I ended up HERE, and when I blinked again, an evening has passed.

THE TOKYO DAMAGE REPORT is an incredible and extremely funny diary of a Goy's Life in Japan (see, I only link in all CAPS when I really want you to check something out), with an eye toward the weirder aspects of Japanese culture (week 7 is nuts).

Come to think of it, browse all over THE WHOLE SITE, I haven't found a dud yet. He's cool. Remind me to add him to the Blogroll, won't you, Kitten?

But it was this little gem I found there that makes me believe I was sent to this site by god. As you know, I am rapidly finding the world of retail completely insufferable (especially the closer we get to Christmas...noooooooooooooooo!), and am currently engaged in a passive/aggressive job search. So who better than me to stumble on this "Engrish" tee-shirt which, though I have no idea how to even begin looking for, I must have.

"ENGRISH OF THE DAY: t-shirt reading:
...in big, gory letters"

That tee-shirt goes into the hall of fame of every wish list I ever had!

**update** this was spotted in my quote-box just after I posted this:

"Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed." -Michael Pritchard

Think someone's trying to tell me something?

posted by taiwan_on 'round 12:15 AM#
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Tuesday, August 26, 2003

just put it in my box.

Well, Kitten, that gray box just overhead was intended to house some launch buttons for some java games. Break-Out, Rocket-Blaster, Snake, just some fun time-wasters. Do you think I could get the damn Java code to work? Nah. So no games for you, Kitten (yet). Have some quotes instead, yeah? Hey, I had to do something to keep the table where my nav buttons go from resizing. *rolls eyes*

I've spent so much time on games that I didn't get to the other stuff (i.e. - the whole rest of the site!), which leads me to believe that website redesign and not games is the ultimate time-waster. *sigh*

Anyway, if anyone has any code lying around and wants to feature their game in that little gray box (working code would be good, and I can follow coherent, complete directions to the letter, so this should be easy.), drop me a line and we'll talk. my only stipulation be that it not exceed 425px in height and take up more than 45% of my page width, so think small, or maybe just a launch button and a banner. Free publicity (albeit, small-time publicity) for your site, dude. C'mon, let's negotiate! Mail me at...

taiwan_on AT helpmejebus.com

Great, now I can sit back and wait for absolutely no reply to that offer whatsoever.

So how's my spelling/typos? I'm so tired everything looks like gibberish now. I think this is the blogging equivalent of talking in your sleep.

Anyway, cheers.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 1:36 AM#
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Monday, August 25, 2003

later, crash!

Okay, still working on the new templates. Just a few minor (resizing...grrr!) tweaks left, but this page and the front page (where all site news will go) are looking not at all bad. Thanks hugely to Boyfriend, who is helping my remedial ass along!

...Well, they do actually look bad, but that's kind of the point. I'm not talking about the jaggy buttons, those will soon be replaced, but the ugly puppets and dolls? Totally staying. And I assure you, it'll only get creepier from here.

The good news is that a good chunk of the site (the seperate links section, the unused "blogdex", assorted other aborted projects) is gone. Folders and folders of useless dross (and loads of hard work) tossed out like so much garbage. On purpose. Let's give it up for my zen-like lack of attachment, shall we?

Oh god, so tired. So much work yet to be done. Make way for duckling, motherfucker, the new site will be finished soon!

posted by taiwan_on 'round 3:24 AM#
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Sunday, August 24, 2003


Kitten, I'm tryin' like hell to implement a new blogger template of my own creation, but as you can see, it's still rather gawky.

Permalinks...why won't you work? Right-hand column #1, why do you resize oh-so much, and why do your buttons look so friggin' jaggy? Mail-form, why will you not write yourself? Television, why must you pummel me with Burger King commercials? Don't you know I can't go to Burger King right now?

Sorry for the goofs, but it's getting late and I'm getting tired. Bear with me.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 1:37 AM#
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Monday, August 18, 2003

Someone Deserves a Lei
and I don't mean me!

Listen Kitten, if someone invites you to a Hawaiian themed wedding and your primary instinct is to balk, take my advice and GO!

Trust me.

Because if you've all been really good boys and girls all year long, you might, if you wish really hard, see something amazing that absolutely no Hawaiian themed wedding would be complete without.

No, I'm not talking about a Don Ho impersonator, or even a whole pig roasting on a spit (although this one did have the pig.).

What I'm talking about is something completely magical and beautiful and, dare I say, life altering? Why, yes, yes I do.

Ladies and gentlemen...I give you....


Psst! Hula Dog! Pull up your skirt! Your junk is showing!

Let me tell you something, this dog was not only the life of the party, this dog WAS THE PARTY. He was all working the crowd, trotting around, and anytime someone said "AWWWW!" he'd hop up on his hind legs so his grass skirt hung right and he'd do his little 1-second hula dance. For everybody.

Look, forget the bride and groom; THIS is the guest you want to know. Trust me. Hula dog knows how to party. He is a chick magnet. AND he got me wasted.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 11:39 PM#
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Friday, August 15, 2003

Well Fuck You Too!

So, I was going to put up some "affiliate links" to a certain couple of hot cosmetics sites with the intention of socking all my piddly 35 cent checks into my piggy bank. When I had amassed enough (hah!) I was going to take the cash and use it on guilt free spending on said cosmetic sites, and, theoretically, everybody wins.

Well, apparently, Kitten, your taiwan_on is some kind of undesirable. Riff-raff if you will.

"Dear taiwan_on,

We regret to inform you that your link sharing application has been denied due to one of the following reasons:

* website inaccessible
* website not "live" or active yet
* inappropriate content

Please feel free to reapply once these concerns have been addressed."

Not bloody likely.

I'm guessing the problem is whatever lies behind door #3, right? Ppptht! What a bunch of pussies! So, I guess I can spend my minimum wage paychecks on your goods, but I can't use the f-word with my $55.00 lipsticked mouth? Well, then, I guess I'll remove the link I had up there all along on my blogrolling sidebar to your site, too. You know, the one that directed traffic to your site simply because I liked your goods and didn't expect anything in return? Yeah, see ya.

Wouldn't want to embarrass you further, you pansies.

And anyway, there's no cosmetics that you sell that I can't get (much much) cheaper or with more cult appeal than from the Japanese shops in Porter Sq. or at a cool little boutique like Girly Junk.

So, seph-whore-a, you can suck my big, girly cock.


posted by taiwan_on 'round 3:51 PM#
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Tuesday, August 12, 2003

Note to Self
do not do the following

wait - don't I already work for shit?

Do not sit on the curb outside a job you hate, smoking and sweating in the sticky sun, listening to the song "Rusty Cage" by Soundgarden on your new MP3 player.

It will fill you with anarchic feelings that you do not have the approved "clearance" to express.

And it will make you feel seventeen again.

In the bad way.

It will also make you feel even more gyped that your new MP3 player does not have a proper "random" function, and always plays the same "faux random" tracks, in the same "faux random" order ever motherfucking time. No matter how often you try to trick it by removing your CDRW of 155 meticulously selected tunes and putting it back in.

Memorex, you can lick me.


Rusty Cage

You wired me awake
And hit me with a hand of broken nails
You tied my lead and pulled my chain
To watch my blood begin to boil

But I'm gonna break
I'm gonna break my
I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run

Too cold to start a fire
I'm burning diesel burning dinosaur bones
I'll take the river down to still water
And ride a pack of dogs

I'm gonna break
I'm gonna break my
I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run

Hits like a Phillips head
Into my brain
It's gonna be too dark
To sleep again
Cutting my teeth on bars
And rusty chains, I'm gonna break my
Rusty cage and run

When the forest burns
Along the road
Like God's eyes
In my headlights
When the dogs are looking
For their bones
And it's raining icepicks
On your steel shore

I'm gonna break
I'm gonna break my
I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run


Note to Boyfriend: I really AM gonna break my rusty cage and run. Be patient with me.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 10:59 PM#
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Monday, August 11, 2003

Snack Patrol - a How-To
or "how-not-to"

Kitten, I, taiwan_on, the confirmed kitchen inept, am going to teach you how to make "onigiri", traditional Japanese rice balls. Using a slightly un-traditional recipe, of course, that you can make on the cheap.


Japanese sushi rice
sushi rice vinegar
toasted sesame seeds
dried wakame
soy sauce
pickled ginger
wasabi (good stuff comes in a tube and is blow-your-fucking-head-off HOT!)
organic baby carrots (raw or steamed - raw if you're grating as a mix-in)
organic baby spinach (choped finely with the stems cut off)
dried bonito (tuna) flakes (reconstituted and flaked-out)
organic cucumber (chopped fine, seeds removed, because the seeds will make you fart.)
smoked salmon (chopped super-fine)
Japanese pickled plums [pitted - duh] (finely diced, or intact to form into the center of the rice balls)
crab meat or some of that fake-ass crab meat that comes in stick form (chopped finely)
toasted nori sheets (cut into appropriately-sized "wrap-around" strips)

STEP ONE: decide your midsection is getting out of hand, think of creative new ways to pack a lunch. Set about this endeavor, inexplicably, at 1:00 AM.
STEP TWO: procure some authentic Japanese sushi rice. Uncle Ben's or Minute rice ain't gonna' cut it.
STEP THREE: measure out 1 cup of sushi rice and rinse with cold water until it runs clear. Curse under your breath as most of it goes down the drain every time you try to drain the rinse water. This will take much longer than you aniticpated.
STEP FOUR: using a microwave rice cooker (I wish I could help you with the whole stove-top cooking experience, but I haven't got it cracked yet. Follow the directions on the sushi rice bag if you're brave.), drop in your rinsed & drained sushi rice and cover with 2 cups of water. (more or less if your first results are not what you'd hoped; like mine were.) Cook in the micro for about 13-16 minutes. Foolishly try 13 minutes first because it's your lucky number. Remove the rice cooker from the micro, scorch yourself on the hand because you didn't let it sit for 5 minutes like the directions said. Decide your 13 minute rice is too chewy, slop a bit more water in, cook for another 3 minutes. You don't know what you're doing, do you?
STEP FIVE: while the rice is cooking, scoop out your dry wakame into a bowl (as little or as much as you like. I used about 3/4 cup), cover completely with cold water and let sit for 4-6 minutes, or until the wakame has achieved desired consistency. Shred, grate or finely chop any other tasty ingredients you feel like adding, such as smoked salmon, cucumber, carrot, raw spinach, reconstituted bonito flakes (read package directions) or anything else that won't taste too disgusting.
STEP SIX: drain your wakame thoroughly. Squeeze it out, in fact, so there's no excess moisture. You might want to chop this up finer than it already is, or don't, see if I care.
STEP SEVEN: blow degectedly on your hand-burn while you obey the directions to let your cooked rice sit, untouched, in the microwave cooker for five minutes. Your cooked rice should be clumpy, sticky and not at all chewy now. Work quickly; you want to do this while it's still hot.
STEP EIGHT: Mix less than 1/4 cup of sushi rice vinegar into your hot, cooked sushi rice. Mix the hell out of it until every little grain looks nice and glossy. The exact measurement is a bit dicey here, as no one seems to have the correct ratio of sushi rice vinegar to 1 cup sushi rice.
STEP NINE: Mix in your wakame, some toasted sesame seeds, and shredded/chopped/grated whatever-else you plan to add. Mix thoroughly.
STEP TEN: Wet your hands with water. This is going to be messy. Form the rice into manageable triangle shapes using your own two meathooks, or an "onigiri" mold. I used a Joyce Chen nigiri sushi mold because I am lame and fancied myself a budding sushi chef until a nasty, abortive sushi attempt. But I'll recover from that some day. You can also form the rice balls around interesting things like a Japanese pickled plum, like I would have if Kotobukiya wasn't closing when I decided to stop in and pick up supplies. I used raw organic baby carrot instead. In hindsight, perhaps lightly steaming them and seasoning with fresh lemon juice would have been a good idea. Get pissed off and curse loudly because you really should have chopped the wakame finer, and damn, this shit is sticky and messy and you're sick of rinsing your hands every time you want to form a new onigiri.
STEP ELEVEN: If you're really into those toasted sesame seeds, pour some into a saucer and stamp each side of your onigiri in them to lightly coat them in sesame seeds. This does two things; firstly, it keeps the onigiri from sticking together if you're planning to pack them side-by-side in a container of some kind for a take-along treat. (or you can pick up some of those silly looking plastic "grass" separators at a Japanese grocers, the sort you find your sushi served with) Secondly, it eliminates the need to cut the toasted nori into strips to wrap around your little sculptures as Japanese culture dictates. What a pain in the ass. Especially with wet, sticky hands. But, hey, if you're not as clumsy as me, you can go with that fly nori embellishment.
STEP TWELVE: Wonder where you ever got the fool-ass idea that substituting one kind of starch (bread) for another (sushi rice) was an acceptable form of weight control. Decide you're in too deep now, and console yourself that those lame-ass raw carrots, at least, are a "do". And wakame is really good for you, right? Arrange your creations (preferably not touching one another) in an airtight container and chill in the fridge. However long you think is appropriate. I decided that the time it took me to clean up my mess (about 15 minutes) was suficient to pick out 5 of these and eat 'em.

Your finished product should look nothing at all like this, and if it does, fuck you! What are you, the Iron Chef or something?! This recipe isn't for you, okay; this is for people like me, who don't know what they're doing in the kitchen!
mine look nothing like this, dammit!

Serve with sides of soy sauce, wasabi (in a tube if you can get it, because that powder mix is bullshit.) and slices of pickled ginger. Have a double scotch on the rocks with that because you're just not cool enough to have a freezing cold bottle of Kaishu sake lying around. Damn.

Marvel at that first bite because this shit ain't half bad. With these for lunch and about a million crunches, you should have that beer/coffee-coolatta-made-with-cream gut licked. Decide you really deserve one of those cool bento boxes from j-list, like this one, and vow to buy yourself one as soon as you're solvent with Amazon.com


posted by taiwan_on 'round 4:10 AM#
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Man, This Is Fun!
a cookie for all you voyeurs

This website basically generates a random number with an image file extension into the Google search engine.

The result? Page(s) of images from the digital cameras of people too lazy to change the default names of the images.

Keep hitting refresh/reload in your browser for endless fun.

Play the Home Version of the Game.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 12:24 AM#
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Sunday, August 10, 2003

as if Boyfriend didn't know this already

Oh, come on now!

You're Perfect ^^
-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which
means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're
the kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't
care about presents or about going to fancy
placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy
being around your boyfriend.

What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Send help. I am on a internet test binge!

May I take a moment to talk about how perfect someone else is for a moment?

Get this; Boyfriend and I are hanging out, plowing through "The Family Guy" over breakfast, and he says; "come on, there's something on the computer I want you to see."

I dutifully follow him into his little studio, he boots up the computer, and I see him double-click on the icon for my resume. My resume which hasn't seen a solid update since 2002. My resume which he suggested over and over during my vacation that I should update and pimp out so I don't have to go back to Drugco when my vacation's over. (which I do, tomorrow, and I feel sick about it, nobody's fault but mine.) My resume which I opened on my own computer no less than 9 times over the course of my vacation and, for the life of me, couldn't think of a thing to do with. My resume that is so fraught with directionlessness that I figured it is impossible to "spruce up".

Did I greet this incredible gesture with gratitude? Hell no! I whined; "Nooooooooooooooooooo" so shrilly he closed the studio door so I wouldn't wake his 3rd shift working room-mate.

An hour later, with Boyfriend doing pretty much all the work, my resume looked so damn good that it's actually marketable now.

So, Boyfriend; my long-suffering, incredibly patient, heartbreakingly thoughtful, hot, hot, hot, partner in crime; thank you. You are amazing. Words, at least in regards to your invaluable presence in my life, fail me.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 9:58 PM#
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And Then There's These...
more fun quizzes

Nightmare Before Christmas!

What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)
brought to you by Quizilla

But it's the next quiz, Kitten, that's really exciting...

I hate conor oberst taiwan_on says; fush you mang. this guy is cute!
you are a pretentious indie asshole. you piss off
everybody but other pretentious indie assholes.
you suck extremely hard and only listen to
stuff on pitchfork media. fuck you.

what type of lame scenester are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

It's funny because it's true.
Though they mentioned Pitchfork Media in the result, the actual link was added my ME! Neener-neener-neener!

posted by taiwan_on 'round 8:31 PM#
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sure, I wish

This is kinda' ironic considering I taped the Christina Ricci short film of "Little Red Riding Hood" narrated by Quentin Crisp this weekend for Boyfriend. Have you ever seen it, Kitten? It's delightfully dark and perverse and Christina looks oh-so wicked and beautiful in it. Anyone know if that one is gettable on DVD?

Boyfriend and I both love her, although we loved her a lot more when she had some fricken' meat on her bones.

Christina Ricci
You're Christina Ricci. Beautiful.

What sexy girl are you
brought to you by Quizilla

posted by taiwan_on 'round 8:19 PM#
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Friday, August 08, 2003

Early Warning (or What-a-Relief) System
I may go missing again.

Kitten, I may get lost in this site forever.

When I stumbled on Show & Tell Music, I got so excited I almost threw up. There are MP3s there, and they are priceless, but it was initially the fabulous cover art that sucked me in.

Oh, god, oh, god. *hyperventillating*

Note to self: acquire a turntable immediately.

I'm going back. Don't wait up for me.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 12:10 AM#
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Thursday, August 07, 2003

True Vanity Confession
a post-script

Before anyone goes thinking I never did anything crazy to look good, Need I remind you of the Great Nair Bikini Burn of 1990? Just in case you didn't hear me screaming, I foolishly applied Nair to my nether-regions (without a prior allergy test!!) and suffered some pretty grave consequences. Yep, damn near burned the cookie right off. Jesus, it was ugly, too. All dotted with melted hair follicles and red raw in spots where my skin was CHEMICALLY EATEN AWAY!

*deep breaths....deeeeep breaths. must not freak out again*

Yeah, not good.

And let's not forget that nowadays I use a dipillitator, which basically rips my body hair out at the roots. Not so bad on the legs but the pits and such? Horrible. I actually hurt myself (REALLY hurt myself) on a regular basis to remove body hair. That's a bit crazy, yes?

Of course there's also the more metaphysical pain of doling out HUGE amounts of cash on makeup, skincare and haircare when I know damn well there are cheaper alternatives available to me. The first time I walked into Sephora? Forget it. The only thing that stopped me is I ran out of cash. If I had a credit card handy, I'd have been fucked. I'd like to think that staying abreast of the latest makeup tricks and trends has made me a smarter shopper, but I'd be lying. Every time I walk into a place like Sephora, my IQ drops about 90 points and I spit out twenty dollar bills like a busted ATM machine. It's sad.

Why, just today I did something both pricey AND crazy in pursuit of beauty. You see, there's this product I have been lusting after for quite some time called Lip Venom. I don't know what it is about this stuff, but as soon as I heard about it, I said; "this shit's for me" and I simply HAD TO HAVE IT. And when I say that, I mean I laid in bed and wanted it the way a kid wants things for Christmas. I was consumed by my desire for Lip Venom. Just read this product hype:

"a spicy, tingly gloss that enhances you lips natural shape and color by increasing circulation with a blend of essential oils including cinnamon and ginger. Lip Venom gives your lips a shiny, bee-stung appearance that cannot be achieved by wearing lipstick."

Translation; An Atomic Fireball for your lips. Basically, it irritates the bejeezus out of your lips so that they turn pink and swell. Which is much prettier than it sounds.

Now, Boyfriend, I know you're reading this and you promised you wouldn't kiss me if I was silly enough to wear Lip Venom, but hear me out. I love it I love it I love it! This is the best shit ever and if I could buy it by the gallon instead of teensie little 3ml. bottles, I would. It's delish! And it hurts soooo good!

I won't go too deeply into details, but my at least 6 month endeavor to secure a bottle of Lip Venom has been thwarted at every turn until today. I went to a new department store opening looking for it, and after being accosted by every perfume-pimping salesclerk in the joint, I finally gave up and asked one if they carried it. They didn't, but that didn't stop the clerk from gushing; "But that stuff is FABULOUS! It's like getting colagen injections!" When I asked her where SHE found it, she got a bit dodgy and evasive. Greedy bitch. Hogging it all for herself.

So, I forged on until I found THE ONLY STORE IN MA THAT CARRIES IT. That's right, there is only ONE shop in Mass-of-two-shits that carries Lip Venom, and ironically, it's in my neck of the woods. In fact, it may be the only retail outlet of any interest to me out here. And unlike the clerk I met at that department store grand opening, I'm sharing. Sure, it's against my better judgement in the sense that it's already too hard to get my sweaty mitts on as it is, but even I can't be that much of a bitch. So, haul your ass over to Girly Junk in Norwell, MA and if you have any soul at all, you'll tell them I sent you and give them my website address. They have other cool swag like Bloom cosmetics and their own line of makeup. And all the clerks rock.

Now, my first trip to Girly Junk was a bust, unfortunately. It's far enough out of my neighborhood for me to not get down there too often, so I had done my web research and was ready for a recon mission sometime in April, I think. It was about 5 hours before they closed when I got there, but when I tried the door... locked. Then I noticed the sign; "Closed due to illness. Sorry for any inconvenience." I was bummed to the core. I found out later that was the only time they had ever closed early, which just made me feel unluckier, if that's possible.

So, today, I finally get back there, and they're open thank god, and I beeline it over to the DuWop display where my beloved Lip Venom lives. There it is looking so gleamy and enticing and just SO damn bewitching that I almost peed in my pants with excitement. I was finally gonna' get Lip Venom. Then, what does the clerk say? "Sorry, I just sold out my last three tubes." Kitten, I'm not shitten', I regressed back to four years old again. I had a DuWop propaganda flyer in my hands and I used it to cover my face as I howled; "NOOOOOOOO! Oh my god, no! You're kidding! No! I can't believe this! I am cursed! CURSED, I swear! That sucks! This can't be! Are you serious?" And the clerk, obviously sensing a melt-down says; "Wait! I have a tester that's never been opened. It's the same size. Do you want that?"

Do I want that? Of course I fucking want that! So, naturally I did everything but leap across the counter and give her a big ol' kiss! So, be advised, Girly Junk doesn't currently have Lip Venom in stock, but they have loads of it on order, so you can either buy online or wait for them to re-stock, which should be a couple of days.

And might I also recommend DuWop's new Venom Gloss which is their totally new spin on the Lip Venom craze and every bit as cool as its predecessor. I should know; picked up a tube of that too, in Tulip, which is a nice, sheer, glossy red that looks super-sexy on. And it's every bit, if not more, powerful as plain ol' Lip Venom.

So, my review of Lip Venom? It's a winner! No, of course it's not like getting collagen injections, so if you're looking for big, fat, Angelina Jolie lips, you have unrealistic expectations, dahlink. It does, however, pout up your lips just enough to be noticable. It helps if you exfoliate your lips first using a wet, rough washcloth (my preferred method) or a toothbrush. Slick it on and wait a few minutes, soon you will feel the burn, baby. Before long, your lips will begin to flush nicely, which will look beautiful because it's your natural lip color a few shades darker. Now, they say you can use it over lipstick, but unless the lipstick too is Venom (they do make lipsticks in addition to the glosses and the venom), I can't really see the point. This is more for a natural look, so you're better off using the venom as a primer and dabbing on some Venom Gloss, or going with just the Venom and painting a little "v" of highlighter in your cupid's bow and dabbing something sheer and sparkly in the center of your lower lip and rubbing your lips together. I personally don't think the "plumping" feature is as wild as proported, but I suppose if you already have amazingly huge lips, this could make them look out of control. And also make me extremely jealous of you. ;-)

posted by taiwan_on 'round 1:46 AM#
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Wednesday, August 06, 2003

New Improved You
and a wednesday what-if

Funny things have been going on at the Asylum. Two of my friends (which two is none of your business) have had elective cosmetic surgery in the same month, more or less. One friend had gastric bypass surgery, and the other had breast augmentation.

First; the gastric bypass. Now, while I ballooned up to a size 14 in highschool, which is impressive given my particular frame, and am currently battling that fat and happy "couples weight" 'round the midsection right now, I'd never even consider gastric bypass. Chances are if I swelled to a size 20 right now I still wouldn't. A few years ago I knew someone who had GB surgery and shared the experience with me throughout her recovery, and in my head, all I could think was "Fuuuuuuuck that". Sure, not ever having been truly obese, it's easy for me to say, but vomiting back up every bite I ate for weeks, maybe months? Going back in for surgery two or three more times because something wasn't working out? Adhesions? Hair loss from lack of proper nutrition? The inability to down a bowl of miso, sweet potato tempura, fried tofu, a 6 piece California roll, a 6 piece Philly roll, and an additional 8 pieces of Nigiri in one sitting with Boyfriend at Blue Fin? No thanks. I'll continue being a pig, okay? I enjoy it.

Gut surgery, in my mind, is something you only do to extract that bread knife you swallowed, or something equally fatal and pressing. Not a lose-weight quick and painfully diet.

And before anyone goes remarking on my insensitivity, listen up; Like I said, I've never gained any weight that I couldn't lose eventually, so I don't know what it's like live a lifetime battling obesity. I know how shitty I feel about my big, squishy tummy right now, and I know how embarrassed I get when a particularly nasty zit rears its head, but for the most part, these concerns are temporary and don't rule my life. I can't get into the mindset required where dangerous surgery becomes a viable option. So you'll excuse my ignorance for thinking that slicing someone open and installing a ring or staples around a LARGE portion of their stomach, is fucking barbaric to an unholy degree. Solid?

And now, onto the tits portion of this post.

What can I say? I know my fabulous, wonderful, utterly-beautiful-just-the-way-she-is girlfriend is reading my site nowadays, so I will refrain from my usual foam-at-the-mouth response to this one.

In fact, anything that comes to mind right now is going to make me look like an asshole. But I'm going to go ahead and play the asshole card here and confess my porn standards at the same time. Is that fair? That way, instead of sounding sanctimonious, I can just sound like an utter pervert. Solid?

I like Japanese porn. Know why? Because, (and look, I'm being racist too now!), the girls are usually more innocent looking. And because of the exotic factor. I've often said that in the next life, I want to come back as a really hot, stylish Japanese guy. Now, I've mainly suffered from Japanese-guy envy for the hairstyle options. I've said it before and I'll say it again; nobody on this earth does kooky Manic-Panic style haircolor cooler than Japanese guys. It just looks so goddamn fabulous. You know how cool the right shade of blue looks on the head of your most stylish Western punk? Put it on the head of even the dorkiest Japanese guy and it's automatically 10 times cooler. It's a simple fact of life. Japanese guys are the pinnacle of coolness.

Punk Japanese guys? Cool. Japanese guys go glam? With the eyeliner and the sparkly lipstick? Not weird or awkward; cool. Skater Japanese guy? Rad. Japanese rock musician? Can I stand really close to the stage and hope you sweat some of your hipness onto me, please? Because I can really use the help.

Wait, what was I talking about. Ah, yes. Porn.

Another reason Japanese porn is great is that you rarely see implants. That's where I was going with this. Now, maybe I've only seen those really bad novelty implants in porn, but whenever I see an implant in a porn, I lose my girl-wood. I don't care how hot the action is, or how uncharacteristically cute the guy may be fucking the augmented chick, I can't get into it with the kind of zest and zeal I like to enjoy porn with. All I can think is; "implantsimplantsimplants!" and then the guy goes and grabs a fistful of silicone and I'm all; "Eeeeeeeeek! You're gonna' break 'em!" and I seriously can't watch which I'm pretty sure is contrary to the whole porn experience.

Now, in my, and my girlfriend's defense, I haven't yet seen, or felt her implants, yet. But I am looking forward to getting to second base with her.

...with the new ones I mean. ;-)

For all I know they've made incredible advances and I won't even be able to tell a tit for a tat. And if I can? Who gives a shit? Because something cool did come out of this particular instance.

The cool thing is; my best girlfriend, the person whose opinion I valued most for as long as I could remember, and I suspect who valued mine equally, DID HER OWN THING FOR HERSELF AND NO ONE ELSE. She did this because she wanted to, and what I thought be damned. That's pretty ballsy. She was well aware of how I felt. She risked my ridicule, she risked getting truckloads of shit from me, and did it anyway. Unapologetically. She didn't say; "Dude, you're gonna' kill me, but I did it." she said; "Dude, I know what you think and I still don't care. I did it. Suck me." And dammit, I can respect that.

So go on with your big titty self, girlfriend! I will still bitch slap anyone I know who's considering it, but you? Girl, you just go!

And besides, as kooky as the whole thing sounds to me, as scary as I find the risks and repercussions, once again, worrying about my tits is a place I've never been, so I don't know how I'd act there. I have, what I consider to be, a small bust, but I like it that way. I am a bra-hating bitch and being graced with a small rack means I can go braless (almost) whenever I want. But I am a little alarmed that my gut is beginning to extend out further than my tits. That's not good. Gotta' work on that.

Now, on an eerily related note, the "Wednesday What-If?" is all about elective surgery. Fancy that! So, in honor of my six million dollar friends, this Wednesday What-If is for you!

Taiwan_On's "Wednesday What-If?"

1. What if you were offered the opportunity to have an operation that would increase your intelligence, but noticeably decrease your level of happiness?

Nah, I don't think so. I may not win any Mensa awards, but dammit, I'm smart enough to not compromise my level of happiness.

2. What if you had to choose between an operation that would leave you without hands, or an operation that would leave you with no feet?

Take my feet, please! Heh, heh. But seriously; I'd happily hobble around on my stumps forever to save my precious hands. Sure I'd miss giving myself flashy home pedicures, but I'd miss masturbation more. And crafting. Can't forget the crafting. But mostly the masturbation. Yeah. Feets don't fail me now.

3. What if you had to decide whether to risk your life and give a kidney to a dying relative whom you've never met, but whose kidneys match yours exactly?

I've never met this person? Hmm. That's a toughie. But hell, I'm a pushover; you can have the kidney, dude. Wait; is there a potential inheritance to sweeten the deal? 'Cuz that'd be good.

4. What if you could have an operation that would allow you to morph into any animal at will, but would steal your ability of human speech?

Wait, when we say "human speech", does that include the written word? Either way, as nice as it'd be to morph into dolphin form whenever I hit a body of water, or take off at will in hawk form, communication is a pretty heavy surcharge to levy against that one. I'm going with nope.

5. What if you could have an operation to change one thing about yourself -- what would it be?

Emergency paunch-ectomy, please. I fucking hate sit-ups. Or an ass-transplant. I want one of those butts with mouth-watering definition that never gets a butt zit. But if offered those things for free, I'd pass. I'd pass on the ass and the tight gut. Bring on the crunches; elective surgery is not for me.

posted by taiwan_on 'round 10:56 PM#
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Monday, August 04, 2003

Feel the Love
share the madness

Kitten, I'd like to share with you an actual piece of reader mail today. It's a simple little note, consisting of only one line that I recieved sometime late last night from a reader we'll call "EP". Here it is:

"Wow, you are one crazy bastard! Please get help."

That's it, Kitten. That's all she wrote.

Now, I rarely get e-mail anymore from blog visitors since my whole March to July mysterious vanishing, so I think it's safe to say I've effectively fallen off the radar, if indeed, I was ever on it. Naturally, any e-mail from a "unique visitor" is a surprise. And you have to admit, there's nothing more unique than one faceless entity randomly hurling insults at another online. I mean, that kind of thing never happens on the internet, right? Or hey, maybe I'm reading this all wrong and maybe it wasn't intended as an insult, but that's the problem here; I have no idea what, indeed, is up with that.

If EP had linked to a specific crazy-ass post, or perhaps quoted something utterly insane that I had written, then perhaps this would make more sense. But I have no context in which to put this admittedly terse diagnosis and undeniably sound advice.

By crazy did EP mean like "Oooh, you crazy chick! You so funny!" or did she mean I was crazy like "Aquaman", the guy who every other day or so used to wander in and out of the movie theater I worked in screaming; "WATER! WATER! WATER!" at the top of his lungs? Like crazy as in zany? Or crazy as in unable to function normally in society? And when she advised me to get help was she serious? Because, you know, there have been many points in my life where I have considered therapy. Like perhaps I need someone to help me sort out some relationship/attachment issues, or the fact that I like to sabotage my own potential success through my addiction-like overuse of the art of procrastination.

But the funny thing is; after a pretty good stretch alone, and now in a healthy, communicative relationship with someone who cares enough about me to want to discuss things like feelings and issues instead of running away or letting me clam up and seethe until I can invent a reason to leave, for once I understand what a great, mature, fulfilling relationship is, and more importantly; for once I don't want to screw it up. I feel happier and healthier than I ever have, and life is sweet. And as for my love of procrastination? At least now I can see it, and what's better (or worse, depending on my mood) so can Boyfriend, and he's not afraid to call "bullshit!" on me when I start making excuses. You know that saying; "when the student is ready the teacher will appear"? Well, my teacher is patiently waiting for me to get off my ass so that he can help me be a more fully-formed person, and provided I can get to doing that, then at the moment I think therapy would be a needless waste of everyone's time and my money. I know what needs to be done; all I have to do is do it.

So, seeing as EP is someone I've never met, there's obviously no way she would know anything about my previous relationship disorders and my crippling slackitude, so clearly this psychological insight was gleaned from one of my posts. But which one? I thought about it until I drove myself...well..crazy.

Before long, however, I got distracted by cable. Hours later the e-mail was long forgotten, and it was probably getting on about 3 am. There I was, sitting at my desk in my jammies, coloring with crayons. I was intermittently dousing my tired eyes with these insane Japanese "hard minty" eyedrops while watching "King of New York". Have you seen that one, Kitten? Christopher Walken was making me so horny that I started feeling a bit sick. And that was when it all came together for me...

You're right, EP. I am a crazy bastard and I do need help. Although, where I am a woman and all, I prefer the term crazy bitch. That okay with everyone? Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go play with crayons and eyedrops a bit more.

In the meantime, here's a picture of me being crazy. Done with crayons, of course. The colors came out all wrong in the scanning process; that's "peach" I used for my skin, but it looks yellow. Funny how the crayon formerly known as "Flesh" is now called "Peach", but ohh, I recognize you, whitey. You're not fooling anyone. Everyone knows your racist crayon past, you bastard! Peach, my peachy fleshtone ass!
mad as a hatter

posted by taiwan_on 'round 12:33 AM#
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The WeatherPunkAss

moon phases

Female/26-30. Lives in United States/Massachusettes/Brockton/North Brockton, speaks English. Spends 20% of daytime online. Uses a Fast (128k-512k) connection. And likes Film/Writing.
This is my blogchalk:
United States, Massachusettes,
Brockton, North Brockton,
English, Female, 26-30,
Film, Writing.

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