on being misunderstood...

My bad over (1) the long delay and (2) the weak ninjas blog. What can you really expect after the Subway rant? It's like going to bat after Babe Ruth.

However, to my millions of fans, yes, I'm still alive. A lot has happened since April. To sum it up in one sentence I basically: finished law school, did the bar exams, moved (hello to the Bulldog!), and am now currently looking for work.

Which is the perfect lead-in to the subject line. Looking for a job in what seems to be an exclusive business can be a real hit to the ego. It reminds me of that old song:

"Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind

Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign"

Considering I know I'm not a dummy, sometimes I wonder why I have all these "signs" keeping me out while letting others in. Needless to say, a lot of soul searching has been going on.

So in my need to rationalize these sort of things, I think maybe I'm just misunderstood. You wonder if it's a generational thing or a cultural, socio-economic-whatever.

"And the sign said anybody caught trespassin' would be shot on sight

So I jumped on the fence and-a yelled at the house, "Hey! What gives you the right?"

I think to myself that perhaps I'm that trespasser being excluded in the last bastion of old-world economic domination. But in the end, I'm not the one being misunderstood but I'm the one misunderstanding. If for whatever reason some of these pricks don't feel me then, so be it. It's truly irrelevant because I can't control what others think, only what I do.

"So I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign

I said, "Thank you, Lord, for thinkin' 'bout me. I'm alive and doin' fine."

So that there's an open letter to the legal profession, to all my doubters and everyone looking for me to fall. I am misunderstood, but at the same time don't doubt the talent. Redemption's in the results. No matter all the shit you pile on someone, don't ever doubt they can come back.

Free Ron Artest.

Ninjas. enjoy.

Finally I will write a quick post about a topic dear to my heart: ninjas. Anyhting I write cannot do ninjas enough justice. In times of stress like now, nothing relaxes me like thinking about ninjas. Just sit back, look at the pictures and enjoy the magic of ninjas.

"These guys are cool; and by cool, I mean totally sweet."

For more information on ninjas:

www.askaninja.com

www.realultimatepower.net

eat fresh mother%$#@er!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shitheaded
Unbelievably
Bitch-made
Wack
Ass
York Lanes pricks!

This has been building for a while, after learning that I wasn’t the only one who had a self-imposed boycott of this place and as I have recently been sharing horror stories among my peers about it, it finally needs to be said. Today, in all my fury, I address the jackoffs who run a certain sub franchise at York.

I would like to begin my talk about these guys with some constructive criticism. These guys are ©unts. My man Chuck D said it best, “gotta shut ‘em down!”

As a former sandwich artist, it pains me to see the depths to which our craft can sink. Dammit I was good. Put it this way, if whatever God you believe in came to earth just to make a sub, it would only taste slightly better than mine.

First of all, they are skimpy with the vegs. Yo, I’m already dropping 10 bucks on a sub you’re gonna skimp on some lettuce that comes from a bag that costs about a buck and change? I’m onto you, hell, I used to order those same bags of lettuce. Check this, and sometimes they put a lid on top of the cucumbers pretending they don’t have them. What kind of a jackass do they take their customers for? It’s a clear lid jerk, I think I can tell there’s cucumbers underneath.

Don’t even ask for extra toppings, these people look at you like you politely asked if you could shove a broomstick up their ass. Dude, when you're making my sub I don’t expect you to be grinning from ear to ear, but I can sure as hell do without that surly attitude that creates this almost uncontrollable compulsion for me to punch you in the face. God forbid, the heavens will fall and your life will never be the same just because I got an extra slice of tomato on a club!

Ten bucks for a sandwich!!!!!!

So here’s my story, its about midnight during first year when I lived on campus. Only place open. I go there, had little cash so I decided to card it. Instead of punching in $5.69 as the amount, dude puts in $55.69! I told him I refused to sign that nonsense, and he got the nerve to get mad at me!

“Buddy, I can get in trouble for this.”
“So void the transaction, put the money back on the card!”
“I don’t know how”
“Get the manager”
“I am the manager”

WTF?!? I forced him to call the franchise owner, and some shit-faced bastard picks up asking what this is all about. I explain to him I want my money tonight and ask him to tell this walking waste of space how to reverse the charge on the card. Then he says:

“I don’t know how to do it either”

So then I ask, when does someone come in that knows how to reverse the charge? They tell me the next afternoon after two. Luckily (the importance of this will become apparent later), I get a cell and home number off the franchise owner, get the name of the numbskull employee and the name of the guy I’m supposed to meet tomorrow. And initial moron-sandwich artist promises to leave word at the shop for the guy who knows how to run the credit card machine. Maybe they could have comp’d the sub after all this trouble…nope, I still had to pay for the sub!

The next day…

Can y’all guess what happened next? He didn’t leave word with day manager! So I gotta spend another fifteen minutes arguing with this guy since (1) he didn’t believe my story and (2) he refused to call the franchise owner.

So out of desperation, after dropping the “I’m a lawyer card” and the loudest “just call the fucking owner!” I could muster, he calls the owner. Owner of course confirms my story and all was well with the world. Did I even get a “sorry for the inconvenience” from these people…what do ya think?!

These things look ridiculous

While I was snooping around this room I'm studying in I found a bunch of temporary tatoos. I was sort of bored and decided to put about a dozen of them on myself. They're really hard to get off and it's starting to itch. I hope I don't develop a rash...

Happy Birthday to Me!

hi! Thanks to everyone for their greetings today, much appreciated!

Seeing as today is my bday and im nursing a mad hangover, there's nothing like some self-serving narcicism.

Interesting facts about April 9:

The 99th day of the year, i was born on the 9th of 79 (WOAH)

Freedom Day - Iraqi holiday commemorating the fall of Baghdad (2003)

Bataan Day, aka Araw ng Kagitingan, ("Day of Valor") - Filipino holiday commemorating the Bataan Death March (1942)...http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bataan_Death_March

Some notable birthdays: Rudy from the Cosby show (we're the same age!), that hot asian chick from S-Club 7, the homie Hugh Heffner, and of course, the man, the legend, G.

To learn more about April 9: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/04/08/AR2006040801051.html

Thanks again everybody out there, bless you all

imagination time!

Three random things said tonight...try and guess the context:

"we're both adults...and you can't spell 'adultery' without adult"

"you can have a B+ summary in exchange for your virginity"

"it's just a teabag"

For bonus points, two of the statements share something in common.
(1) Which statements share a common characteristic?
(2) What is that common characteristic

California Love Part 3: PCH

In the final instalment of the LA trilogy, today is about the PCH. The PCH, (Pacific Coast Highway) is a stretch of road that runs through Santa Monica, Malibu and other major LA coast towns. I have no idea how two lanes of highway can have the effect this place has on me.

I of course I had to take a drive down to PCH, so I hopped into her car and we headed down. Besides it being one of my favorite places in the world, with all the stress going around right now, there's nothing like the West Coast to put things in perspective.

I can't even begin to describe the PCH, it's this explosion of humanity ranging from the rich and famous, to washed up hippies selling beads, hell's angels, poor folk, tourists, locals, you name it. Aside from that are the views of what seems to be the endless blue of the ocean, the white sanded beaches just resting at the feet of the green cliffs of Malibu.

It's been a while since I've been in LA in the Spring so the experience of the light ocean breeze, the sun, and mild temperature combined with the natural beauty really makes you stop and think about how lucky you are to be alive.

California Love Part 2: the joj-man

Part of why I visited LA was a surprise to my Dad on his birthday. It was nice to see him but this time was a little different because not only did he grow a goatee, he recently joined a band called "LA Rythm" (insert gay joke here).

<- The joj-man in his "acting"prime

Anyway, last Saturday was their 'showcase,' aka their first gig. For anyone that doesn't know, my Dad was a pretty popular singer/sometimes movie star back in the PI. I always heard the stories but never really gave the thing much thought. Considering the "Rythm" had only been together for a couple weeks I didn't know what to expect.

The joj-man's album Cover ->

Saturday's concert was excellent. I had never really heard my father sing before, but you can tell the guy used to be a performer. Despite the venue being a restaurant/karaoke bar you could tell he knew his way around a stage and the glimmer of the old rock star in him could still be seen in his eyes .

Whatever happens, whether this is a hobby or some comeback attempt, I hope he's happy about it and wish him the best.

The point of the story? I guess no matter how well you may think you know someone, they can always surprise you.

Good luck pops, I love ya.

California Love Part 1: The Boy Takes Over

Man I love California! Grrrrrrrrrrruuuffffffffffffffffffff

What's that?!?

woof woof!!

yo, this my blog! go away!

woof! woof! ruff! ruff! ruff!

ok fine...u wanna say something, go ahead. Sorry for the interruption folks but my furry friend here has something to say. See, while i was in LA, I got to live with my pops and stepmoms and they have dogs. One of those dogs is better known as "the boy." A little background information about the boy. He's a basset hound who's I dunno how many years old, but I think its just a shade over a year. WOOF WOOF lemme tell them who you are first!

grrrrrrr.... wrapping it up, the boy enjoys chewing stuff, licking his balls, barkin/howling, belly rubs, sitting on the couch and slobbering. He also loves visitors...here's a picture of him, though its not a real picture cuz I still live in the stone age and am without digital camera. But trust me, its a very accurate portrayal of the boy...

So now that everyone knows who you are, what u got to say?

woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof!woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof! woof!
woof! woof!

ruuf....rrrrrrrrrufffff....

for the folks at home, here's a rough translation. I think the boy was trying to tell everyone...

He's just a good old boy. Never meaning no harm. Beats all you never saw, been in trouble with the law since the day he was born.

Its sorta his theme song.

Anything left to say boy?

HEY! quit humping that dog!!!

WOOF!

As promised...

I don't really follow MLB but I think it's opening day isn't it?

As long as there's beer, baseball is actually quite tolerable. Plus, great thing to do on a summer day.

Reminds me of last summer when me, T, the catfish hunter and a couple others went to watch the Jays after work. Long story short, I had forgotten to invite some dude that actually wanted to go. Which is ironic considering, I had a hard time giving away a couple those tickets.

Oh well, one can be forgetful sometimes...But this story is about enjoyment.

See whenever a player comes up to bat they get their own theme song. For example, the O-Dog gets rap and the redneck players get Dwight Yokam or something. As for the Latino players, they get a funky salsa or sambas or merengue (please forgive my ignorance of the various genres) a rather.

Anyway, as the pulsating beats of our southern neighbor's high energy music pumped machismo through my veins all i could think was...

"_______ would have enjoyed this..."

Release Valves

I don't pretend to be Dr. Phil. Yet I know I could do a better job than that Oprah-coat-tail-riding, family-exploiting quack.

What I want to talk about right now is stress management. As a practicioner of anger managment (who some guy who has the same first name as Clipper Guard Maggette would enjoy), I have some credibility on this issue.

Borrowing a metaphor from the Big Aristotle, you can't ram a Corvette through a brick wall. So if someone you know is getting frustrated by trying the same thing, caught in routine or foolishly treading the same ground over and over only resulting in frustration.

I have a theory, frustration is an addiction such as crack or even better, buddha. Anyway, lesson of the day...it may be time for an intervention.

When the stress management release valve is causing stress itself, it's time to step in and save them from themselves.

In Dracula's Castle

<- Advanced Civil Procedure Professor, Count Dracula

How exciting! Who would have thought in my 2 and so years in Toronto I would meet Dracula himself?

Funny thing is Dracula ain't a bad proff. Well, he can't be that great considering I'm writing this while I'm in here.

One observation I've had in here over the years is the clicky keyboards. If they're saying something worth taking down, sure click away.

What I don't get though is the constant clicking when there's nothing to type. I suppose its MSN or games or better yet what I'm currently doing.

So I get back from a smoke break and a full on historical debate about Africa the Middle East or something a rather. As a student of history I should chime in or maybe at least care.

Nope. Couldn't really care in the least. Tell you what though, it was pretty interesting.

Here's my view on history. Remember that line about statistics?

"there are lies, damn lies, and statistics"

In other words, history is like statistics in this fashion. Our own biases and "centric" pride and nationalistic idealism shapes our interpretation of mish-mashed, random events into a singular view that suits our own sensibilities and values.

So who was right in the smokebreak debate? Probably both of them.

All I got a kick out of was interrupting a seemingly intense ADR discussion. Aside: who the hell has a group meeting with a teacher in a hallway. And they give me cut eye? Its a public spot jerk! You wanna conduct a class, do it in a classroom.

Another bonus? Got to show up to class from the break late and get the angry stare of my peers. They think it has an effect on me. In a way they're right. I love their disapproval, it turns me on.

Somebody once said that we define ourselves not only by the company we keep, but in the enemies we make. So if someone gets pissed off over some bullshit, I know I'm on the right track.

That's it for now folks, I think Dracula is saying something useful. If I don't listen he may suck my blood.

Stay tuned for the next installment when I discuss, the Blue Jays, Salsa Music and "enjoyment"

Take Care

The Catfish Hunter

Where do I begin with the catfish hunter? Wherever I decide to start, just realize any tale I tell can never truly live up to the legend.

Origins

It all started once chilly afternoon in November when the stranger came up to him and tried to shake his hand. "Uh, sorry stranger, your hand is too sketchy for me." What one must realize about the Catfish Hunter is that everything is presumptively sketchy. They say it's lonely at the top and when you make your business spearing catfish, trust is something that cannot be given lightly.

Why catfish?

This is truly the paradoxical life that the catfish hunter lives. You see, using stinkbait and a spear is a life with few rewards and much sacrifice. Sometimes we ask the catfish hunter, "why the catfish? Why not many of the very available pike or dogfish?"

To that he responds: ""Pike and dogfish are sketchy"

So did the stranger push him to this life? Is it his insatiable appetite for catfish?

Nobody truly knows what makes the catfish hunter tick.

All we really know for sure is: (1) he digs catfish, (2) he is sketchy and (3) there's some animosity with strangers...

The Pac's Blog

So I'm sick as hell and with some encouragement decided to start one, so here it goes...

So what do I start with? I really don't know, I'll talk about whatever I feel like I guess. For example, I was in the library today right?

Check it, before I finish the story, some people just need to be straight up capped, no doubt. Anyway, dude was washing his hands and I was waiting behind him and this guy decides to take his sweet time washing his damn hands. He whistles a tune while he does it. Now I don't know what the accepted time it takes to wash your hands but this fool crossed that line and then some. At this point I'm thinking to myself that this guy must be some kind of neat freak or something. What else can explain the homoisity of his behavior? So dude finally finishes and just wipes his hands on his pants! The friggin nerve! I mean he makes me wait this whole time and I try and accomodate him since he may be a neat freak and he did it just to piss me off.

Yet another example of the conspiracy to destroy me...I will have my revenge

See there's this episode of South Park called "die, hippie die!" about self righteous pretentious know it all hippies.

Seriously, I'm always greatful I had the opportunity to get the education I have recieved. But one thing I can do without are those hippie bastards trying to push their morality on me.

You know the kind. The I'm smarter than you. That asshole in the bar that Matt Damon punked out in Good Will Hunting who thought he was hot shit just cuz he's read Chaucer.

So what did I learn from college? Fuck idealism, fuck recycling, and hippies especially...fuck you

(thank you South Park)

If i sounded a little vengeful, that's ok. It's really my nature, but truth be told I'm a pretty nice guy. Hope all is well out there!

bye for now!