Things to remember: My Journal

Ok me and michelle went and saw Ratatouille… it was awesome!

Ratatouille

Rat has nose for food
Disgusting but becomes chef
Pixar kicks some ass!

I have struck another blow to my enemy in my ever ongoing war with the rest of the Jonathan Tsang’s of the world. I have obtained jonathantsang.com. Now the domains gintsang.com, jonathantsang.com, familytsang.com all fly under the flag of Good Jonathan Tsang (that’s my word).

However my enemy is creeping up on me in the Google search. Currently I still hold #1 and #2… (help me by googling Jonathan Tsang and clicking on my webpage. HAHA)

Some of you might say, “Good-Jonathan… Why are you waging a against the other Bad-Jonathan Tsang’s of the world?”
And I’ll respond, “Because they’re terrorists.”

In actuality, these guys are the competition. Whenever a new email service or website comes out I have to compete with them to get a proper login ID, like jonathantsang@gmail.com or jonathan.tsang@gmail.com or any derivation of that. Feel free to send those guys hate mail ;-)

This is war just went from cold to hot bitches! There can only be one.

Note to Police: No this does not mean I will track down the Jonathan Tsang’s of the world and cut off their heads with some form of a long sword ala The Highlander.

So way back me and Sarah we talking about one her nutty ideas. She said, what if we make an entire website reviewing movies but as Haikus. It was actually a pretty good idea, but I, as per my typical MO, told her it was stupid and told her to shut up.

That being said I’ve watched 5 movies in the past 2 days and I figured I should give it a shot.

Here we go…

Goal 2: Living the Dream

Plot’s the same damn thing
David Beckham is a whore
Santi wins again

The Last Legion

Crappy Arthur Tale
Sir Ben Kingsley as a monk
Crappy since Gandhi

The Contractor

Here we go again
Wesley Snipes as a bad ass
He kills an Arab

Volver

This has subtitles
Oh Crap! Don’t know how to read
Cruz has nice cleavage

Knocked Up

Man’s worst dream comes true
Has some laughs along the way
Becomes little bitch

Ok so Michelle recently went to Korea and got me a robot clock/alarm/memo holder. He came in a box looking remarkably similar to this:

Notice: Make ‘FUN’ Time, bitches… make fun time…Here’s a picture of Mr. Robot, King of the desk, Lord of his domain:

Notice: How he lords over and subjugates the mini-to-large IDE adapter? Also notice him holding my receipts from my India trip. He protects them until I get off my lazy ass and fill out my expense report.

Here’s a picture of Mr. Robot wielding an orange highlighter:

Notice: He like’s orange, because it ‘regal’ and it shows strength. haha

Mr. Robot versus the Napo Mug:

Notice: the Mug was talking some smack.

Mr Robot putting the mug in its place:

Notice: Nobody fucks with Mr. Robot.

Mr. Robot kicking a box of Kim-wipes

Notice: Mr. Robot is also a ninja… a Korean ninja that makes him twice as deadly as a normal ninja.

Mr Robot dominating the desk:

Two shots from Mr. Robots soon debuting rap album, “I rule this desk… Bitches…”:

HAHA I know I was bored… and now it’s 2am.. I’m going to bed.

I’m going going back back to cali cali…

See ya’ll soon!

Jill sent me this cool link for Matrix Ping Pong using Kuroko puppetry. Check it out.

Ok as part of my ever ongoing, “Let’s make fun of things I don’t understand,” quest in life, I present for you a interesting phenomenon I’ve recently observed in India.

Indians have turned the phrase “What the fuck?” or “What the hell were you thinking?” or “What do you have to say for yourself?” into not just a single word, but a single simple sound.

This sound is similar to the word Huh? mixed with HA! It’s an incredibly short sound, and is always YELLED! For the ease of spelling this sound, it will simply be spelled “HA!?”

So I’ve been carefully listening to conversations from inside my office in India. I can usually hear the screaming and yelling coming from outside. Usually the screaming and yelling is loud enough, to where it sounds like they’re standing next to me.

Now for some hypothetical dialogue since the conversations are always in Hindi. I usually just make something up in my head, as I giggle in my office. *Yes, I’ve lost my marbles. No, you can’t have them.*

*Me, sitting in the office, working on a spreadsheet. I have the AC cranked to 17C because it’s friggin’ hot and I can’t stop sweating. Outside the loud pounding of hammers and other various tools bang away at the last remnants of my sanity. All of sudden, the pounding stops and the dialogue begins. Remember this is all in Hindi, ie. gibberish.*

Foreman: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? HA!?
Worker: Umm… I take the hammer… and I just hit stuff… sometimes it’s plaster, sometimes it’s bri…
Foreman: HA!?
Worker: Yea well.. I mean look, we never perform construction with any semblance of a plan or a blueprint. You know just as well as I do that we just pull stuff out of our asses. Then when it enevitably goes wrong we do some shoddy patch fix and call it good.
Foreman: HA!? AGREED, PLANNING GETS IN THE WAY OF EATING TONS AND TONS OF GHEE! BUT YOU’RE NOT EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE WORKING ON THIS BUILDING. WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? HA!?
Worker: …
Foreman: WHY DID YOU DO THAT! HA!?
Worker: …
Foreman: WHY DID YOU DO THAT! HA!?
Worker: …
Foreman: WHY DID YOU DO THAT! HA!? HA!? …… HA!?
Worker: Well… look.. I figure… we can just take some plaster and just kinda smear over the hole. Then we’ll throw some mud over it so that it blends in with the rest of the building. Hopefully no one will notice until monsoon season when the plaster will fall apart leaving a huge gaping hole for torrential rain to poor into.
Foreman: THAT’S A FUCKING BRILLIANT IDEA! HA!?
Worker: Then why are you still yelling at me?
Foreman: … … …
I…. DON’T…. KNOOOOWWW!!!!!! HA!?

Speaking of ghee, I could go for another paratha, before I get back to the US and the good legit Indian food dries up. mmmm pudina parathas….

HA!?

I’m sweaty.. and my eyes are stinging… for two completely unrelated reasons, both of which I blame on India…

1) I’m sweaty… YES I AM! I am melting here, it’s 43-45 Celsius out here. Lemme save you the trouble of converting that to Fahrenheit, for you “Americans” who ain’t down with the metric system (Me included, “IMPERIAL, OR DEATH!”) that’s 109-113 Fahrenheit. I know I know… Jonathan you’re being a pussy. YES! YES I AM… BUT IT IS FRIGGIN’ HOT!

2)  My eyes are stinging… because on the way to the plant where we run our process, there’s another open to the environment plant that they like to run their “Hazardous” reactions at. Whether it’s the brominations or the hundreds of barrels of random solvents from Ethyl Acetate to Methylene Chloride, every time I walk by the plant, my eyes burn like a mother fucker.

India I place this squarely on your shoulders. Fuck you! Stop melting your people!

DAMMIT MY EYES HURT!

Well this happened a few weeks back and I’ve been too lazy to get the gallery up. This was on the day I got back from my sister’s graduation. I had gotten up at 5AM eastern time and gotten on a plane to get back to the bay. So I was fucking exhausted. So I drank a pitcher of Diet Coke… They said it couldn’t be done…

They were wrong ;-)

Happy Birthday Richard!

Gallery here.

So here I am… sitting in the Jet Airways lounge in Mumbai. It’s 2AM here and I’m waiting for my 5:50am flight… luckily they have internet…

AND SCORE I GOT A SEAT NEXT TO THE POWER JACK!! WHAT NOW BITCHES!?!?!?

YEA THAT’S RIGHT! STEP OFF MY POWER JACK!

YEEEAAA! I’m in dis bizness for terrar! Got a head full of stacks better grab an umbrella!

Sorry exhaustion + boredom + india = Fat Joe Lyrics…

Make it rain folks… make it rain!