More on Wangs

I've always thought the road Wang ZhiZhi jersey would be the way to go if I decided to support a particular NBA player. Of course, I would never do this. Those guys get guaranteed contracts and, therefore, don't need my support. I wish I could get an NBA contract. Just one of 'em. For the minimum. Do you know what I could do with $442,114? I could supply a year's worth of water to 442,114 Africans. I could buy 294,743 giant-size slurpees. Hell, you could probably get a low-quality snuff film made for that amount of money. The possibilities are near endless. I'd probably end up blowing it on something worthless though... like paying off debt or 14 masters degrees.

Asians Don't Get It.

I'm not sure the Asian understands America. This country battles an inferiority complex that would stun a mastadon. The goal in each of our lives is two-fold:

1. Keep my head low enough that nobody notices my shortcomings and failures.
2. Always be on the lookout for everyone else's shortcomings and failures, in case they notice mine, so that I can use these as necessary to save face.

Grade school is the worst. I don't know how many insulting nicknames were hurled my way and I have a normal, American name. You know exactly what little Nick Mycock experienced. (Yes, real guy.) But can you imagine going to school for 13 years with a name describing a phallus? How many times do you think this guy's been called "Short", "No" or "Sideways" in his life? I remember going through the phone book in elementary school and relentlessly prank calling Phuc Yu, Hung Nguyen and Hsiu Mei. There's a judge down in New Zealand trying to single-handedly correct this societal injustice, but he's got a hopelessly long way to go. I think he'd have better luck getting up on the back of his couch, jumping off and trying to fly, than curing this epidemic. I guess it's great that these idiots are out there. I need somebody to keep the attention off me.