Name: Kim
Age: 21
School: UCI
Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence --- whether much that is glorious- whether all that is profound --- does not spring from disease of thought --- from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect. -- edgar allan poe

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January 31, 2005

Why do bitches walk so slow?

Why do bitches walk so slow?

Picture this: You're on your way to class, you have everything timed perfectly. It is 10:55 AM, and you have exactly 5 minutes to get to class. You are turning right on a red which will take you approximately 1 minute. Parking will take 2 minutes, and it will take less than 2 minutes to walk to class.

You reach the red light when you notice a pedestrian crossing the road. Courteously, you think "Ok, I'll just run to class and let this person cross."

Unknowingly, you have just released the worst nemesis to your being on time to class.

True Story:

The other day I was trying to make a right turn and 2 bitches crossing the road took so long that by the time they finished crossing the light had already turned twice and the cars on the other side of the road were turning left into the lane of which I was preparing to turn right.

Now, I didn't need to go anywhere important, but I STILL wanted to roll the bitches over!

This gone me to thinking:

Man, bitches really walk slow!

How many times have you wanted to stab yourself in the eye if you could make it so that you wouldn't feel like you were wasting your time because of some bitch that decides that she's going to walk slower than the average slug?

I've come up with 3 instances in which this happens to me CONSTANTLY.

1. The red light

Okay, this is what I was describing earlier. WTF is up with this? Obviously there are people waiting for you... Why can't you just hurry your ass up and cross the damn road! Sometimes I've seen them look at me with an EVIL look in their eyes like they KNOW that I'm going to be late. FUCK YOU BITCH! I'm in a car! Next time I'll run your fat ass over!

2. The narrow road

Is there some unwritten rule that if there are 2 or more bitches together that they have to take up the whole fucking sidewalk/walkway/etc? What the fuck is up with that shit? There should be a law about leaving a passing lane to get around slow ass bitches! the worst is when you're trying to go around them discreetly, and regardless of which side you walk to, they always seem to be 1 up on you and they all kind of drift to that side. FUCK YOU BITCH! I wish I had a car to run you over!

3. When you're really really late

You know what I hate the most? When you run into someone and they decide that they want to talk to you, so they start walking with you, but they walk at half the speed in which you were already going. COME ON. Use some common courtesy! If you're going to already hinder someone with your talking, at LEAST have the courtesy to fucking walk as fast as them.

This also goes for people when we're in big groups, too! Like when you're late to a movie and you're in a big group and bitches are whining because we're gonna be late, but they're not walking any faster. WALK FASTER BITCH! You're the reason we're gonna be late!

-----------
*SIGH of relief* Ok I just had to say that. But seriously, I know you probably think I'm a dick and I know that I have on occasion walked slowly, as well... BUT! Barring ridiculously short legs, and really uncomfortable shoes, or if you're just taking a walk in the park or something, there's no reason that you should be walking slower than an elephant with a toe problem.

Moral of today's story:

WALK FASTER, BITCHES!

Posted by Kim at 12:57 PM | Comments (5)

January 26, 2005

Mad Libs!

Create my day!

I woke up this morning completely ___adj___. I looked around for clothes to put on and get ready for the day. But before I changed my clothes, I decided to ____v____, because there's nothing like something inside of you to get the day going.

I finally got to class and suffered all the way through. After all this work, I felt a little ____adj___ and decided to go get some ____n____. After ___v___-ing for so long that I could barely stand, I decided that I wanted to play with my ____n____. Four hours later, I was still playing with my ____n____, but I was all sweaty and my fingers were beginning to hurt, so I stopped.

What a great day.


//begin madlib intermission

Product of the day: USB Vibrator


Matrix USB Vibrator (Matrix USB) Presenting the computer powered Matrix Vibe. Become one with your computer as you plug and play your Matrix Vibe into your USB port with the included USB cable.

Reach orgasmic heights as your body pulsates through 10 different speeds and sensations, all at the touch of your finger. No batteries required. Feel the power.

PC and Mac compatible.
Category: Female Stimulators, Vibrators

EDIT!

You've seen the USB vibrator, now due to popular demand (this goes out to you, minho), here is the USB DILDO for your sexual pleasure!

Wow. It just doesn't stop getting better.

//end madlib intermission


My Madlib

I woke up this morning completely rested. I looked around for clothes to put on and get ready for the day. But before I changed my clothes, I decided to eat, because there's nothing like something inside of you to get the day going.

I finally got to class and suffered all the way through. After all this work, I felt a little hungry and decided to go get some food. After eating for so long that I could barely stand, I decided that I wanted to play with my gamecube. Four hours later, I was still playing with my gamecube, but I was all sweaty and my fingers were beginning to hurt, so I stopped.

What a great day.

What did you come up with?

E-mail me or leave a comment with your madlib!

Posted by Kim at 09:41 PM | Comments (5)

Nothing to say for today except..

Appreciate life.

Posted by Kim at 12:00 PM | Comments (3)

January 24, 2005

Socially Correct Greetings

While walking down the ring road on the UCI Campus, I often run into a lot of people that I've met throughout the past four years of my college existance.

Now, being the awkward social worm I am, the question always arises in my mind as I see the person I know coming towards me --

What the fuck am I going to do?

Do I say hi? Do I look away? What the hell?!.. Social anxiety grips me as I rush to decide what to do. Image Hosted by BoogleBoo.com.

Though I have a lot of social anxiety, I've realized that I DO have a lot of common habits that I slip into, depending on the type of person that I'm approaching.

So here it is, my list:


Kim's Socially Correct Greetings

for the people you know when you're passing them in public

(Use with caution. I'm a social retard.)

1. The ex-friend

The friend that you used to hang out with a long time ago but for some reason you stopped chillin with because of a difference, or you guys just drifted apart. This is also the category for those people that you run in the same circles with but don't really like.

You always, ALWAYS promise that you guys will hang out sometime, even though it will never happen.

2. That person you see around all the time

The person you see around all the time but you don't know their name and you don't quite remember where you met them. You probably had a conversation with them once before, but you really can't be sure about it.

For this occasion, I usually give them a tight lipped smile, a kind of baring of my teeth, hope they don't stop me and keep walking.

3. Club Member

I know this doesn't apply to a lot of you, but I'm pretty active in a community service club on campus.

I usually try to say something club related and make sure that they know I remember them.

4. The (dreaded) old flame

That person you had something with and never quite got over. Usually something ended badly.

For this occasion, you should use avoidance as much as possible.

This situation often ends with me IMing that person the same night saying, "I saw you on campus today!"

And the other person saying "Oh! You should have said hi".

We both know it's a lie.

5. The new flame

The person that you're currently with.

There's always time in your day to stop and have a chat with the person in your life.

6. Close Friend

This is reserved only for the closest of friends, and those you are really comfortable with.

I don't know about you, but for the people I really like, I generally hump, grab their titties or do my special "secret handshake" (it involves a lot of touching..use your imagination).


So there you have it folks, how to greet people on the street as you're passing them. Have I covered everything? Probably not! So, if you can think of other types of people that you end up running into when you're in public, and you're not sure how to deal with it, leave a comment and I'll add it to my list!


On another note, check out this sinfest comic! They use the words "Madpimp" in it! How PIMP is that?

Posted by Kim at 09:14 PM | Comments (8)

January 23, 2005

What's your pleasure?

What are the most primal urges in the body? -- Everything that it takes to survive and continue our species. Hunger and Lust.

Hunger I will discuss another day. For today, I want to talk about lust.

Why do I consider lust such a primal urge? 1. All mammals must do it. 2. It makes me go gaga.

Below, I am listing the top 10 body parts on a human being (5 male, 5 female) that cause me to say "Yum."

Top 5 Female Parts

5. Lips: Hell yeah! have you ever seen Angelina Jolie? SHIT. That shit is hot. I like chickies with thick, sexy lips.

4. Ass: The ass has to be bangin'. Most asian chicks got no ass, but I like something firm and round yet juicy like a fruit.

3. Legs: Nothing like nice long legs to wrap around you huh? Hot. I especially like really high heeled shoes.

2. Face: If the chick ain't got a hot face, might as well have nothing at all. She's got to be easy to look at, at least.

1. TITTIES

: YEEY-YUH! The best body part in the female body, the titties!! SHIT! They're hot! Nothing like two squishy buns in your face! Speaking of which, Lindsey Lohan has big ass titties.



Top 5 Male Parts

5. Back/Shoulders: A firm, broad, strong back is very sexy to me. Perhaps because I have rather delicate shoulders, it represents a certain strength and virility that for me says "man". HOLLA!

4. Lips: Doesn't really matter what the shape/size is, as long as its fitting to your face... It's more of the way that they move, part, work, that changes a pair of lips from "eh" to sensual... Especially when he uses them for things other than talking.

3. Hands: Hands that are deft and adept in handling and skill are a huge turn on. It's an indication of how he will handle things...elsewhere. ;)

2. Chest: Same as the back/shoulders, I like a broad, strong chest that can support me. Also, I like a guy that's strong enough to carry me where i need to go. That's so damn hot. I like to play with a guy's nipples.

1. The V

The V is circled in the picture to the left. Okay, this is seriously, THE MONEY. Nothing turns me on more than that line that points down to your naughty parts saying "Hi! Look here!" Definately, the hottest body part on a guy.


So there you have it! The results are in, the hottest body parts are the V(male) and the Titties(female). Disagree? Have another body part that's better? Leave me a comment stating your argument, and I might just change my mind!

What are your favorite body parts?


Ever feel like you're just fishing for replies? This comic is for you. :)

Once again, from one of my favorite comic strips, Diesel Sweeties.
I'm a rocker. I rock out.



I saw this guy's hair and had to take a picture. When he asked why, I told him it was for my webpage. Anyone know who this guy is? He's pretty cute.

To see my complete photo collection of events Click Here.


EXTRA EXTRA! Read all about it! I am the official Cam Girl for CAKALUSA, 2005. Awesome. Go leave him a message telling him how great I look.

This entire entry was totally random. I love it.

Posted by Kim at 08:38 PM | Comments (8)

January 22, 2005

Soulmates

a letter to my (future?) Soulmate

Dear Soulmate,

Have we met yet? Are our paths crossed? Will they ever? Every day, I wonder if you are already close to me or if you are some non-being yet to exist in my bubble of knowledge.

I've been waiting for you for a long time. If you know me, you should show yourself soon, I am getting tired of waiting. Of course... If you really are my soulmate, and I believe you are, then I am just being silly and impatient.

Soulmate, maybe you haven't come out yet because you don't know me well enough. --Have you run away because you know me too well? I want to know all about you, and yet a part of me wonders if the mystery is more romantic.

Is there only one of you out there, or do you have a twin brother or sister that you can introduce me to? If you know, please tell me, because I have been feeling a little lonely lately.

I saw the movie "You've got mail" the other day. The part where Meg Ryan was supposed to meet with Tom Hanks at a coffee shop, she has a flower as an indicator, a symbol, of who she is. Will you be holding a rose too? In a coffee shop?

How will I know who you are from all the other people in the world?

Are you just like me, or are you my opposite and compliment in every way?

I thought I found you once. I really did. You were beautiful, and you smiled at me, and you said everything I wanted to hear. You made me laugh, and you made me feel beautiful, you made me feel so complete, even though you were never mine.

It wasn't really you, though. It was just somebody with your mask on.

Dear Soulmate, are you happy right now? I hope you are, I would never want you to be sad or hurt, even if I haven't met you yet.

Dear Soulmate, whether you're my best friend, or somebody from the other side of the world, please let our meeting as soulmates be special. Please let it be wonderful. I know my eyes will fill with tears of happiness even if it's not a perfect moment, because when I find out who you are, I don't think that anything can dampen the elation I will feel.

Dear Soulmate, I know I will love you with all my heart, and I can't wait for us to fall for each other in a way that is not like falling at all but is more like flying above all others, being next to each other, holding each other, helping each other.

I can't wait.

Posted by Kim at 01:36 AM | Comments (4)

January 20, 2005

I'm lovin' tit!

:) Last night I was talking to this guy, and he came up with the best idea for a t-shirt, EVER. Period. :)

So I decided to design it -- check it out!... This is what I call, HELL YEAH.

:) Really, this guy is a freakin' GENIUS!

Preorders, anybody?

Posted by Kim at 11:19 AM | Comments (2)

January 18, 2005

I need to tell you a story...

The Significance of K

an almost autobiography written in fictional form
about a life filled with hypocrisies and overindulgence

|-- to the kiddies - drugs are bad, stay away from them! --|

I'm lost again, inside my head. That voice is back, the voice I know is me, but is not me because it gives me thoughts unbidden that I don't want to hear. 'You hate yourself,' it whispers, 'you need to end yourself. You're nothing, and you need to die.' How tantalizing. Almost wistfully, I think about the full bottle of codeine on my desk at home.

"Is it ready yet?" I say, impatiently, the voice in my head beginning to nag harder.

He is cooking, and it will be a while yet. I hunger, salivate, for what is on that plate. There is nothing else.

I wait. The voice is still there, but is ebbing into a dull background static as I concentrate on the boiling liquid.

I sniffle. My nose is completely stuffed, and I remember the real reason for the codeine. The food is almost done and I can't partake. Inhaling through my nose as hard as I can, I manage to loosen the thick mucus from one nostril. It feels chunky and tastes slightly bitter as it glides down the back of my throat.

He tells me it is done. I breathe.

I breathe in freedom.

I breathe in rebellion.

I breathe in strength.

I breathe in happiness.

I breathe in life.

I pause. I cannot breathe anymore... and yet I must, because I need more. Just a little bit more, I need to breathe. I need to live.

Slightly lightheaded from the deep inhalations, I lay down on the carpet and rest my head on striped pillows. I look at the clock. 1:09 AM. The smell of life trickles down my nasal passage, and the taste of rebellion prickles my tongue.

Time stops.

Time flies.

I'm being stretched, like a rubber band - or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I'm there.

I've arrived. Where am I? I am in a house with nothing. I am in a house with everything. The walls are thick, but they are completely made out of glass. I still cannot see through them.

Someone is talking, and I'm responding, but they are not responding to my response. I cannot speak. The darkness is coming closer, and is about to take me away.

Time stops.

Time flies.

I'm being stretched, like a rubber band - or more like a piece of saltwater taffy on a rollercoaster ride. I am going to break, I am going to break, being stretched in this dark tunnel of no escape. And then I'm there.

Where am I? I am in an amusement park full of beautiful lights. I am not a patron of this park, but rather a spiritual being that glides over and around the curves of the park, up and down over the roller coasters and Ferris wheels faster than the fastest speeding bullet.

Time stops.

Time flies.

I open my eyes and I see striped pillows. Someone has thrown a blanket over my limp body. I look at the clock. 1:23. It has been an eternity since I left. It has been 14 minutes since I left.

I open my eyes. My mind is clear, the voice is gone, and I know it will be for days. Months, if I get to breathe often. Years, if I can keep breathing always.

But no, I cannot continue like that. I'm breathing too much, too fast, too hard. I need to slow down. Stopping would mean death. I've stopped breathing.

Help me. I want to breathe again.


Once again, on a totally different note... this sums up my day...

from one of my favorite comics, diesel sweeties


Posted by Kim at 01:06 AM | Comments (6)

January 16, 2005

Working with Women

Ok, so I've always been a total nerd and I haven't had many jobs where I've had to work with other people. On top of that, most of my jobs have been tech jobs in which I have zero contact with women. --There are times when I am the only girl in the entire company.

I can only remember one other job before now in which I had to have a lot of contact with women. During the summer between senior year and college, because of some weird rebellion I had against my mom I worked at Forever 21, girly clothing store. That lasted a good two weeks. I came, I gave my two weeks, I left.

I cannot FUCKING stand working with women.

I recently began a job for a parking and transportation department. (Think parking permits and citations).

The setup at my new job is as follows: I work in the back with all the tech guys. The rest of the office is virtually all women.

I have a lot of shit to gripe about.

1. What the FUCK is up with the incessant bitching?!

OK, bitches! Listen up! We work in a workplace with CUBICLES -- not walls. EVERYTHING you say carries over the cubicles and can be heard by everybody else in the whole office. That is why people reply to you from the other side of the office.

But WHY, WHYYY do you insist, when something even half interesting happens, to yell your story to the person in the cubicle next to you... and then, if the whole office hasn't come over to bitch about it with you, you go to the NEXT cubicle to fucking tell the SAME exact story again?

The other day I was sitting there and I swear, I heard the same bitching (I COUNTED) 7 times! WHAT ... THE ... FUCK?

I thought I was going to gouge my eyes out. If I had testicles, I would have cut them off by the 4th incantation of the bitch attack.

2. It's JUST PARKING. Stop taking this shit so seriously!

Seriously. Every day I work, at least once, there is a convergence of people in some place in the office [ALWAYS at least 5-1 women-men] where they're arguing -- like REALLY arguing, yelling, getting frustrated -- over parking policies.

COME ON. What the fuck -- OK, seriously, it's not REALLY going to make a big difference if you change the fucking permit color, or make it so that certain people can only park in certain places. People will live on. FUCK.

STOP MAKING YOURSELF FEEL LIKE YOUR JOB IS IMPORTANT!

3. STFU!!

Finally, STOP using office hour time to fucking call your kids, all your fucking friends, and anyone who might remotely want to listen to you. Once again, I point out we work in a cubicle environment! It's OK to talk on the phone once in a while, especially if it's an emergency, but fucking SHIT. While I'm designing or programming I don't want to FUCKING hear about what time you put your KIDS to bed or what you think that your friend SALLY should do with her FUCKING boyfriend.

....
Bitching in the workplace should be a punishable act.

Let's have a vote:

Who thinks that people should be punished for excessive bitching in the workplace? Raise your hands high, people!

:raises hand:


On a brighter note, I went to the LA Auto Show today with some friends. The picture below sums up the day pretty much.

Incidentally, I gave her my card, told her she should become a model and that I would make her website. I hope she comes to my page. Really.

Posted by Kim at 05:52 PM | Comments (9)

Gratuitous Photo Post

Been working on my digital portfolio. Hopefully it will be up and ready for all of you to enjoy in about a week or two. Then if you like my shit you can pay me to do your shit. Trade of money for services, if you will.

Yes. I am working on putting pictures on the internet so that I can trade money for services.

Posted by Kim at 12:04 AM | Comments (1)

January 14, 2005

Issues of Image

Issues of Image

I told a friend today that I feel that I live in a facade, that I produce an image of myself for others to see... That I feel like I rarely show anyone my "real" side, my "dark" side, my "other" side. My friend told me that if you live in the facade long enough, you eventually become that facade.

Do you?

My Past

I've been thinking lately of what "image" is, and what it means to me. I come from a family that works in buisiness and was an integral part of the vietnamese buddhist community, so image has always been a big deal in my family. My mother, in particular, is a great perpetuator of the belief that "image" is the only way that one can get ahead in life. All throughout my youth I was dragged to one event or another, put in clothes that I didn't want to wear, sitting stiffly in places I didn't want to be, acting like a model child when all I really wanted to do was hang out with my friends.

Which leads me to...


Distance photo done with help by Lan.
And for anyone that might recognize it by the hair alone, yes I am dressed as Witch Hunter Robin

Everybody has an image, whether or not they are willing to accept it.

For some, image is a 24 hour upkeep. I know another person who believes image is so important that he thinks it doesn't matter how you treat [a girl] while you're in a relationship -- as long as you give a good last impression at the end, she'll always remember you as a good guy. His image is one of a successful man's man, ladie's man, man who has several women at once, good to his friends man. The epitomy of the image driven person.

For others, image comes unconsciously, like my best friend Kim. After knowing her since freshman year of highschool, I've come to realize she's one of the only people that really doesn't care about image at all. No really, at all. I totally respect her for that. But she, too, though unwilling, cannot get away from her own image. Hers [to me] is of someone with much brilliance that seems 'boring' (500) on the outside, but is actually an amazing person of amazing accomplishments once you get to know her. She also has a wry sense of humor.

What about me? What is the image that I portray? Is the image that I portray different than who I am? What is the image that I WANT to portray? What is the image that people see when they look at me?

Does this image define who I am?

I don't know what I portray to other people. I don't really even know who I am. I'm not even sure what I want to portray. I know am the person in your class whose phone always rings. I am the person that on any given day might be wearing a costume. I am the person who speaks too loudly and says the wrong things at the wrong time. I am the person whose laptop is

constantly attached to her body.

A big part of me wants to tell you that I'm brilliant, in everything I try.

Really, I am.

A part of me wants to show you that I'm a 'used to be geek turned cool but still geeky'.

A part of me wants to show you that I'm a deep introspective person.

Yet another part of me wants to show you that I'm a really good person.

An even bigger part of me wants to tell you that I'm fun to be around.

The biggest part of me wants to show you that I've made a difference in the world somehow.

What is it that you see?

What is it that you portray?


Additionally, I would like to personally thank everybody who put my paperdoll into your webpage. It's become so many of you that I don't have time to link you all now, but the notables are: Megan, Larry, Eric, Peter, Ivy, Darrell, Ferdinand, Jamie, Greg, Ferdinand, Cherry, Joy, Laura, David, Tony, Crystal, Brent, Rashmi, Brett, Micha, Tim, Nancy, and Anne. You guys (and anyone else I missed) make me feel like those hours not paying attention in class are worth it. I <3 you!

Also, as a commemorative gesture, I will be adding unlockable levels to my paper doll that will be revealed at my 200,000th hit! :) The more you visit me, the sooner it will come!

Posted by Kim at 02:19 AM | Comments (1)

January 13, 2005

Paperdolls and Raving

Paperdoll Contest

It seems that my paperdoll is getting a lot of people's creative juices flowing, so here is a proposition to you awesome creative people: the top 3 will be featured on my site, and then there will be a 24 hour period for people to vote/comment. [According to sitemeter I average around 300+ visitors a day, so for some of you that might be some good advertisement for your site!] Whoever wins will receive additional featurage on the paperdoll site itself, and a free e-mail forwarder: YOU@MADPIMP.COM or a gmail account.

Rules: There are no rules. Use other pictures. Photoshop it. As long as it's still the paperdoll. Straight hood, baby, just the way I like it.

My disclaimer ahead of time: Any inappropriate/insulting/offensive stuff will be allowed, however ALL pictures posted up are fully the work of the artists featured. I hold no responsibility for any edited photos or pictures that are posted on my site that have to do with this contest. Take it up with the artist if you got beef.

Email your entries to madpimp@gmail.com


What happened to raving?

Funny story, during the years when raving was still popular and the word candy didn't really mean candy, and dropping something didn't mean that you had to pick it up, I found this picture of myself and had a good chuckle.

What is "Raving" anyways? Urban Dictionary says: An organized underground party involving music and dancing. Raves typically involve one or more DJs playing electronic dance music such as techno, trance, breakbeat, jungle, and ambient.

I didn't start going to raves until they were already dying. When people talked of the glory days. When people complained about the lameness of the parties and that PLUR [peace love unity respect] was a thing of the past.

I started tagging along with friends to raves when I first started college. Like many asian families, my parents never let me go out at night later than perhaps 10 or 11 pm... And even then, I had to have a solid alibi of where I was -- "raving" or even "sleeping over at a friends" would not be enough.

For my first year of college, I was swept into a world of beautiful lightshows, new things, glowsticking, dancing [tutting mostly] and people who seemed too nice to be true.

Then it became a little old... but all my friends still went, so I tagged along. Soon, for me, it felt like it was the same thing over and over. This was for two reasons:

1. I rarely did any drugs or alcohol at these raves so there was very little intoxicated fun

2. I didn't feel like I could dance anymore because I received some criticism about the motives behind my learning to dance.

3. I was at odds with the people I went with

The raving scene is dead, for me, but I've learned it's not completely because of how good the party is, or how great the venue is, or how many people are there. Raves are good if you like the people you're with, you enjoy the music, and you can dance in any way you want without feeling self conscious.

Just once more, I'd like to go to a rave (or rave party.. Spundae anyone) and:

1. Get REALLY fucked up

2. Dance my booty off

3. Be with people I can be myself with

Any takers?

Posted by Kim at 01:13 AM | Comments (7)

January 12, 2005

Fun toy for you from me!

Hey everyone! I made this paperdoll of the picture I drew for my website layout. :) I thought it would be a fun thing for people to put on their blogs! I put a lot of work on this so I want as many people to see this as possible!!

Support me by posting this on your xangas and blogs!





Put this in YOUR blog!

Posted by Kim at 12:28 AM | Comments (9)

January 09, 2005

Picture of the Day

I've been inspired by Lan to post a picture of the day.

This is why friends don't let friends take pictures drunk. ^^

Posted by Kim at 02:03 PM | Comments (7)

January 08, 2005

Nerds, Geeks, Bullies

This forum has a poll entitled "Are you nice to the so called geeks/nerds?"

A lot of the replies sound like the following:

QUOTE(bad_girl @ Jan 8 2005, 12:37 AM)

respect them (nerds/geeks) but dont stand up for them. becos if i do.. i'll be the joke for the rest of the year. but everybody deserves our respect!!

The thread itself, and the incensed me to no end

This was my reply:

Shit, all these bitches in here that are in high school / middle school and all that bullshit.

I WAS that nerd. I WAS that geek that got picked on. Got teased. Got gum put in my hair. Nice to know how all you fuckers who think you're 'cool' talk about the 'nerds' as another freakin RACE or some shit like that.

Nice to know that you don't stand up for them when bullshit happens to them in class just because you're afraid of being a joke.

People who don't take action for others are just as bad as the people who are doing the fucked up things. Sometimes worse, because you know better and you're not taking the initiative to be a better fucking person.

You know what, fuckers? That NERD probably goes home every day and thinks about killing himself/herself because they're fucking all alone in their fucking misery.

IM OUT BIATCH!

Now that I'm a little calmer...

I feel like I can really get down to the point and rant to this in a more rational manner.

This thread really pissed me off for the following reasons:

It talks about 'NERDS/GEEKS' as an label

I didn't like the way that they used 'nerds' as something that encompasses a group of people though they don't point out exactly what 'nerds' means. 'Nerd' can be construed in many different ways to many different people.. The way this post/poll makes it sound is that a 'nerd' is an entity similar to race -- a group that these 'geeks/nerds' are a part of regardless of whether they want to or not.

I wonder how they would react if I made a post "Are you nice to the so called 'white people'?"

It doesn't make it any better that everyone [except a select few] continue on talking about 'geeks/nerds' in the same manner.

It didn't have a choice for 'I am a nerd'

So apparently, geeks/nerds are not allowed to vote? I see, only the 'cool' people are allowed to post in this thread.

It showed me a side of human nature that I haven't seen since I left middle school

aka my own experiences with bullies

I think the thing that bothered me the most about this post was that it took me right back to middle school. To my busstop in John D Morgan Park.

Every morning in 8th grade, the bus would come and pick us up and take us to the temporary school we had been ported to because of our own school's rennovations. Every morning I woke up, walked 2 blocks, over an overpass, turned right and walked another half block to the busstop.

Every morning I arrived, looked for my friend Cheyanne, and tried to start talking to her as soon as I could.

Every morning I feared the arrival of two people. I still remember their names like it was yesterday, even though I haven't seen them in close to ten years. George A**. Damien G********.

George was also in 8th grade. He was a stocky/buff bodytype guy who wore baggy jeans and plaid button down shirts. He had slicked back hair, and a head similar to the shape of Homer Simpson. He was one of the 'cool people' of 8th grade.

Every morning George would poke fun at me, push me, and say things to me until I cried [or at least he tried to]. I know this sounds like the type of things that happens when a boy likes a girl, but trust me, this was just pure maliciousness. Every morning I would stand there and not reply to anything, tears heating up the back of my eyes, my jaw clenched, wanting to say something, ANYTHING. It was never of my nature to have quick and witty comebacks. Especially when I am incapacitated by anger, embarassment, and negative feelings.

The other person, Damien, was even worse. He was a scrawny, tiny little 5th grader who probably got picked on by everybody in his class. He had glasses at least half an inch thick and three inches in diameter. Probably seeing how I just took the abuse from George, Damien took it on himself to fuck with me as much as he could. I was pushed around, had gum put in my hair, and cussed at by this kid.

I never did anything. Already depressed and having thoughts of suicide every night, trying to deal with my parents getting divorced, getting over bronchitis, feeling like an outcast, and being made a prisoner in my own home, I couldn't bring up the strength or courage to retaliate back.

So, by the time we were on the bus and almost to school, I was either crying or on the verge of tears.

In the end, I have to say, I probably didn't get picked on every day like I remember... The scars are deep, though, and I remember my feelings so poignantly that just telling it here makes me want to cry.

So, if you're reading this, and you are George A** or Damien G********, I have one thing to say to you:

FUCK YOU, BITCHES!

Posted by Kim at 05:50 PM | Comments (7)

January 07, 2005

The (currently) 12 different types of poo.

So, those of you that know me, you know that I don't shit very much. Though lately my bowel movements have been fairly regular (once every 2-3 days, and sometimes even daily), in the past it was not uncommon for me to go for a week or even two at a time without taking a shit. Every time I need to take a shit, I announce it - and my roommate says "See you later!"

The funny thing is, the home I grew up in was built in the 1940's or 1950's, so the plumbing is pretty old. When I used to live at home, every time I took a shit [almost without fail, not including diarrhea] the toilet would get clogged up. I know. The only way I was ever able to avoid this is if I cut the giant log in half with my sphincter and flushed about 4 or 5 times per pooing session.

For this reason (the clogging), the fact that it doesn't happen often, and simply because I am fascinated by bodily functions, I have become a great connoisseur of the different types of poo. Some of these types can occur at the same time in the same shitting session. The numbers don’t really mean anything except for use as reference.


Kim’s 12* Different Types of Poo

*note this will probably be ammended to include more later as I think of them.

Type 1: Your Average Joe Poo

This is your average run of the mill poo. It comes out, not too thick, not thin, normal colored and only messy enough for you to know that it’s poo. Even Goldilocks couldn’t complain about this shit. Really.

Type 2: The Bleeder

When you see red streaks on your toilet paper as you’re wiping.

Type 3: The Bleeder 2

This is the one that really makes your anus bleed. Not just the little red streaks on your toilet paper while you’re wiping, but the straight up "fuck, I just ripped myself another asshole". You will know the bleeder when you feel it, and if you look in the toilet bowl, you can see streaks and swirls of red mixing in with the yellow water.

Type 4: The Smoothie

This is the one that’s not quite diarrhea, but as close as you can get without calling it a diarrhea. When Type 4 hits the bowl, it does not stay in a log shape, instead it tends to form into a little pile at the bottom of the bowl. If you’re shitting enough, this is one of the poos that will stick up out of the water.

Type 5: The Frozen Yogurt

This is related to Type 1: Your Average Joe Poo, but it’s just really really long. So long that it curls up on itself and looks like, what else? Frozen yogurt.

Type 6: The Kielbasa

Often, this time happens in conjunction with Type 3: The Bleeder or Type 4: The Bleeder 2. Similar to Type 5: The Frozen Yogurt, this is the type that is too thick to curl into a tight pile, but is still extra long. This kind tends to curl around the side of the toilet bowl, giving it the look similar to a polish sausage. However, it does not have to, because sometimes shit doesn’t go smooth like that. The only requirement for the kielbasa is that the shit has to be 1.75 inches in diameter or bigger.

Type 7: The Mr. Clean

This is the one that is the trickiest. It occurs randomly with different types of poo. It is very rare, but on the occasion that it does happen it freaks me out. This is the poo where once you’re done, you go to wipe and nothing comes off on the toilet paper. When you’re like, WTF mate? Where did the shit streaks go? You then usually proceed to wipe 5 or more times unsuccessfully, wasting most of your toilet paper.

Type 8: The A-Bomb Explosion

The A-Bomb explosion also goes by the name of "Diarrhea". A lot of times, Type 4: The Smoothie or Type 9: The "Am I peeing out of my ass?" will follow this shit. This is the one that usually hurts the most and the longest before and after the dropping. I have broken a sweat more than once with this type of poo.

Type 9: The "Am I peeing out of my ass?"

This, along with Type 8, are probably the messiest of the different types of shit. This is the one where it feels like water is just pouring out of your ass. No matter how hard you dab your asshole, you’re scared that liquid is gonna leak out.

Type 10: The Cork

This tends to cause the Bleeders as well, and is followed by "Am I peeing out of my ass?" and The Smoothie. This is when you have a really hard piece of shit at the beginning of your poo, and once that is released, a slew of liquid is released.

Type 11: The Rabbit Poo

This is the one that comes out in little pellets. This one for me seems to occur a lot with Type 10: The Cork. (Generally the cork itself is a rabbit poo that causes a Type 4: Bleeder 2).

Type 12: The Streaker

This is the opposite of Type 7: The Mr. Clean - This is the one where no matter how much you wipe it never seems to go away. Every single wipe yields another brown streak. And you keep wiping...and wiping... and wiping. Until a little bit of Type 3: The Bleeder occurs.

-----------
Ammendments


Type 13: The Corn Poo (thanks, Brett)


Not limited to just corn, just any poo in which food still looks the same coming out as it did coming in.

Type 14: The Flaming Hot Cheeto

This is like, the worst shit ever. Especially when worked in combination with A-Bomb explosion. This is the shit that burns your ass and makes it almost numb with the stinging painful sensation. If you really ate flaming hot cheetos, the color of this poo is red.

Type 15: The Albino Poo (thanks, Larry)

Larry says once his poo was white and he didn’t know why. I’m opening this type too all the times your poo is a weird color and you don’t know why.

Thanks for Commenting:
Steve, DC, RaSenGan, Lan, Eric, , Sid, John, Angela, Brett, Darrell, Ivy, Long, Larry, Diana, Pink_hilights, MyLynn, JOy, Allen, Jerome, Vinh, LumpiaBlog, Diana, bettertomorrow, xhopefully5x, Phil, and Linda.

Posted by Kim at 11:14 AM | Comments (10)

January 06, 2005

Insecurities and the definition of 'Me'

My personal's ad: SAF [single asian female], 21yrs, 5', medium build, small breasts, geeky, vulgar, fun, crazy, introspective and brilliant. Seeking SM to have stimulating conversations, try new things, and have fun with. Must be nerdy.

What defines me?

Regardless of what you see in the webcam [since admittedly I can look pretty hot there ..the pictures come out way better than I actually look in real life. It's more of a gimmick to make people come to my site than anything], I consider myself to be a girl of average to slightly below average looks. When not domineering the internet realm, I have fairly low self esteem.

Of late, I've been going out more than I have in the past, in the process exposing myself to the public. As a result of this I have been learning how to mingle with people who in high school who I would probably been hesitant to talk to or would have ignored me.

In these situations in the past, clubs, bars, parties, I've contented myself with becoming so incredibly fucked up on drugs that I don't care about my insecurities anymore. However, since the decline of my alcohol tolerance due to several bouts of overdrinking, and my recent lack of drug use, I have come to drink much less in these group socials which results in great discomfort and feelings of insecurity and embarassment on my part.

I have to ask myself why?

Why do I feel like the nerd that sneaks into the party?



Here are the reasons that I have come to grips with:

1. I feel as if all the people [girls, boys] dressed all nice are part of the "beautiful people" crowd... a crowd to which I do not belong.

2. Everyone seems like they know why they're where they are. They are standing with purpose. They are sitting in the chair with purpose. I have no purpose.

3. It seems as if most people have mastered the art of smalltalk and/or dancing, smalltalk something which has never been appealing to me and dancing which has never come to me naturally.

How did these insecurities come about? What defines me?

For this and as an ode to the new year, I would like to take a photo-enhanced trip down memory lane.
9 years ago I...
Had really big glasses.
Got bullied in school.
Got gum put in my hair on the bus.
Ran away from home.
Cried myself to sleep every night.
Hadn't seen my dad in more than a year.
5 years ago I...
Had smaller, but still big glasses.
Was in love with a boy named Nick.
Was still called a nerd.
Was coming to grips that I would never be 'cool.
Was making a lot of money through the 'internet'
4 years ago I...
Started college.
Information and Computer Science major.
Met people who were bad influences.
Learned that I could get away from life by doing drugs.
2 years ago I...
Was in love.
Had been diagnosed with bi-polar disorder.
Finally stopped punishing myself with sharp objects.
Stopped blogging.
Was still a nerd.
Last year I...
Broke up with my boyfriend of 2.5 years.
Drank so much I threw up for 24 hours straight.
Went to more parties than ever once I turned 21 in March.
Got fucked up every time.
Never got over my insecurities.
Grew out my hair.
This year I...
Am still a nerd.
Still trying to get over it.
Want to be a 'cool people'
Will stop fucking around.
I guess I drifted away from the topic a little bit there. But anyhow... The moral of the story is that I started out a nerd and a geek as a child and that nerdy geeky person will always be me. That is why no matter how I try to shake the image and the feeling, I will always feel like the girl in the first picture 9 years ago.

---------------

Links of note: sooji for linking me as inspiration. The following people commented: Stile of stileproject and camwhores (you've always been my blog-idol...seriously.), RaSenGan (even though you think i'm dirty.. haha), Michael, Sidric, bob aka merry (?), Lan[crazy amounts of inspiration], property_of_nick, better tomorrow, Eric, John, Clint, Allen {PIMP},, vinh, Josh, minh, Liss [HOT chick], Brett, irene, tim, dA_rEaL_MexApInO, click_here_for_pics, , Wilson, and Megan. Thanks for commenting. StillADick for subscribing to me because I think his writing style is fucking amazing and I hope he gets 1/10th enjoyment being subscribed to me as I've had reading his site.

Posted by Kim at 02:33 AM | Comments (7)

January 04, 2005

So I'm going to be a hypocrite

I'm going to be a hypocrite and be one of those people that I find boring. I'm going to tell you what I did yesterday.

Yesterday I changed my sheets and the duvet covers on my bed. I also cleaned the carpet.

It's hard for me to explain the events that occured which promted this strange behavior... So instead, I created a photo reinactment of what happened.



I was really hungry, so I decided to check out what was in the fridge.


I proceeded to choose a yummy looking 1 dollar banquet salisbury steak TV dinner.


I eventually put it in the microwave, after deciphering the words on the back. I was extremely excited to eat it because I was hungry. This was to be my first meal of the day.


I brought the cooked dinner back to my bed in order to eat it. My roommate was at my computer desk so I decided to eat whilst browsing the internet on my laptop. All of a sudden..


The food decided to jump out of my hands! It then proceeded to flip to the floor.

The following are real pictures of the events described earlier.

Yesterday was a sad day indeed. I was hungry, and my food escaped me. I didn't even get to eat one bite of that dinner. The saddest part was that there was hair in the mashed potatoes.

On a brighter note, I now know what it feels like to hold a piece of warm meat in a towel.

Posted by Kim at 06:24 PM | Comments (9)

January 03, 2005

Thank you's

Incidentally, thank you to Lan, Eric, Wilson, TurkShady, Brett, JR, DC, RaSenGan, and John for your comments. :) They were greatly appreciated.

Posted by Kim at 04:10 PM | Comments (1)

On a more somber note.

Caution, LONG entry ahead.

Those of you close to me know that recently one of my best friends, someone I've known since middle school, came out of the closet recently. Initially, he came out only to his friends -- however, due to a certain turn of events, he ended up coming out to his parents this New Year's Eve.

The details of these events are outlined in the letter that he sent to all of us following this post.

Before going into the post, though, I'd like to say a little something to the first generation Asian society. You know who I'm talking about, Asian parents who came to (not born in) America in the age range of 45-70 with children in the age ranges of 15-40. Yes. I know you're not listening, and I know that you probably don't use the Internet... But goddamnit, I need to say this.

I don't want to sound ungrateful. I know you reared us and took care of us and went through many toils in order to get where you are today. I know you worked hard to become successful and worked damn hard to keep the same family values instilled in us that were pounded into you by your parents, your society.

I know that by the time you were my age you had seen much more pain, anguish and suffering than I am likely to ever see, living in the heart and the height of a florishing, rich society.

Still, I have to say this.

Fuck you, ASIAN PARENTS

(Immediately I feel guilt. I've deleted that last line 5 times. and still I have to say it.) I really mean it, though, and I've always wanted to say it.

I know you always intended the best, and that your days were days of ideals, and that you came to America for the American dream. But goddamnit, though your children have grown up and assimilated to the American society, inside the home you still haven't let go.

I realize that you are afraid if you let it go too much that your culture will be lost -- but there are some things I will never understand.

Why, why do you force your children to conform to the image that your culture's society idealizes? We do not all want to be doctors, dentists, engineers... Why is it then that we are so forced to play your games of power and pride, for what? so that we toil in fields that we hate in order for you to gain reputation in your clique of friends that you have raised children who will make a lot of cash?

Why, why do you force your children to conform to the image that your culture's society thinks is correct? So what if I'm gay? Why does that matter to you? Why does it shame you so much that I like others of the same sex? I have accepted it. Why can't you? You say it affects you, but how does it affect you as much as it affects me? Why are you so insistant that we conform to your image?

Why, why do you force your children to conform to the image that your culture's society developed? Why can't I marry someone who is from a poor family, why can't I marry someone whose family used to be low class in your country, why can't I marry someone who is not of our race, why can't I marry someone who matches your image of beauty, why can't I fall in love with who I want if they're not your image of what is right for me without falling out of your grace.

Wasn't your dream one of freedom? Then why are your children not free? Why are we still bound mentally by your words, your actions, with shackles from a society that we are not even considered to be a part of?

CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO READ MY FRIEND'S EXPERIENCE

Dear Friends,

Some of you know me as Hyung. Some of you know me as Steve. I am writingto you now to inform you of my current situation at home.

As most of you know, I’ve recently came out as bisexual. To be quitefrank, I’m into the whole “sexuality is fluid”; that my preference isn’t set. Those close to me know that I swore that I’d never come out to myparents. Unfortunately, on New Year’s Eve, I did.

Throughout the winter break, my mother and I argued on many occasions.During a car ride with her, she demanded to know what was the source ofthe animosity. She asked me if I had secrets from her. She took my silence as an affirmation, and before you know it, I came out of the closet.

So went back home, my mom sobbing as we drove home from church. She told me I was going to get AIDS and die. She didn’t believe me when I told her I’ve never experimented with drugs. She said she felt sorry for my father, and feared for his mental health. She suspected that he would kill himself when he learned of it. Panicked, I told her I’d change if she kept it a secret. She simply told me that I had ruined all of our lives, and that I was as good as dead.

At home, my mother fluctuated between pity, sympathy, and disgust. She said she still loved me. Afterwards, she told me I was a dog and a monster. Most of the time she was incoherently praying. We both cried, we hugged, we sat apart.

My dad, who was at church, called to inquire about our absence. My mother lied and said she sprang her ankle. After their conversation ended, my mom told me that once my father got home, she’d inform him, that she couldn’t handle this alone. Throughout the night, I would apologize
incessantly.

My dad came home. I was asked to leave the room as my mother and he spoke. About forty-minutes later, I was asked back into the room. The first thing my dad asked was if I could quit it. I said that I didn’t think I could. Initially, I suspected a theological argument, so I let him know that I no longer considered myself Christian. However, he chose to argue about society. At first, he told me that I wasn’t normal. My parents both firmly believe that because I don’t meet social standards, I should change. I disagreed; if I’m not harming anyone, I’m not obliged to change. I was breaking no law, hurting no other. Then they explained that I was hurting them; news of my ‘sexual deviance’ would ostracize them from the Korean-American community. That I could not argue. They asked me if I could change. I choice to answer vaguely, stating that from what I’ve read, most men attempting to convert committed suicide, or led lives filled with depression. My parents said that I had to change, that it is the only right choice. I told them that I would try to abstain from sexual relationship with men and pay more attention to women while in Davis. I lied; I just wanted to appease them and flee to Davis. I told them I’d leave for Davis the day after. So we went to sleep.

That next morning, January 1st, they informed me that I had to withdraw from school. They were convinced that it was my surroundings that lead me astray. I told them I had to return, and that stripping me of freedom wouldn’t change me. I told them I had no desire to change, that I didn’t think I was wrong, and that the only thing I regretted was hurting my parents. They seemed dumbfounded that I didn’t find non-heterosexuality to be immoral. My dad suggested I take a vacation in Korea.

Of course, I went hysterical. I yelled. They cried. They told me they loved me and that they didn’t want to imprison me, merely heal me. I don’t doubt their sincerity, only their sanity. They told me that I could spend time working out, going to a junior college, or go abroad. But they insisted that I stay in Davis.

They went about their business for the rest of the day, letting me know that they weren’t sure what to do with me yet. They thought it best if I spend some time outside, alone, and blow off some steam. So I went out, and called numerous friends for support. Thank you all for listening.

That evening, I returned home. At that point, nothing had changed. The situation was exacerbated by our language barrier. I can speak and comprehend Korean fairly well, and they... speak enough English to get by. They called my Aunt Angel to mediate, to translate. She came. While she did clarify both of our points, I was a bit annoyed by the fact that she was also completely against my sexuality. The details aren’t important. Ultimately it comes down to this; if I choose to live my life the way I see it, I will rip our family apart. The alternative is to change (to go hetero) if that’s possible, and maintain family unity – in the process, I would lose my identity, which sucks ass. Really gross ass. The one with dingleberries in it. Ew.

They said they were going to go pray at church. I chose to remain at home. I spoke with some friends, got a hold of some numbers. Thanks to everyone who called and cared, you know who you are.

At that point, my parents returned. We had a rather warm talk about despite our differences, we loved each other. I told my parents if family unity meant my disownment, that I was strong enough to manage on my own. My parents said that they would never ‘throw me away’ (heartening, but vague), and that they would never stop trying to help (vague, not at all
heartening).

Today is January 2nd. As I finish this letter, its just 9 pm. My parents have spent almost all day at church, so have spent little time talking. They still believe that what I'm doing is morally wrong, but they are trying to understand how I think. They are also re-considering my school situation, but are waiting for an answer from God. I think the big guy needs to hurry up; school starts soon. If I am not allowed to attend school this quarter, I will use the time to collect funds so I can pay my own way through college. I am not ready to flee just yet – I want to salvage whatever family love I can from this. But I will return; hopefully by the 5th. If not, I will see you all in Spring quarter.

For all those who have supported me, thank you. I wouldn’t be as super-de- duper cool as I am today if it weren’t for all of you (although some of you would argue against the statement. Well, at least the cool part). For all those who sympathize with my situation, you can help out my spreading the word. I want people to hear about my situation. Although I’d prefer that you kept it out the Christian-Korean-American community in the Bay Area because that would make life really tough for my parents (they aren’t bad people!). Do your part and spread tolerance and love. Feel free to use any part of this letter, except for my phone number and address. Those of you who receive the initial copy of the letter (you can tell because it’ll have the phone number and address on it), please send gifts, letters, baked goods, and strippers to the address shown. But no riots / protests (just yet). I’m 5'8.5, average-build, cute, good with kids, etc.

I am emotionally drained, but I am strong. I will see this through. And I will win.

Hyung

Posted by Kim at 03:27 PM | Comments (5)

January 02, 2005

True Story [a diet]

A few months back I was trying out a new diet. It wasn't really a diet, but more like a change of eating style. I was eating about 10 "meals" a day in fairly small proportions (carrots, an apple, a bowl of rice, etc.)

So the result of this 'diet' was that I felt hungry ALL the time. Seriously, trying to curb your hunger for dinner by eating 10 carrot sticks really does not work that well.

Anyhow, one day I was just chillin at home in front of my computer when my stomach started feeling funny.

"My stomach feels funny," I thought to myself, "it must be hunger."

So I proceeded to eat some carrots. This didn't ease the feeling in my stomach, so I thought, "Maybe I have to go poo."

At this thought, I tried my best to take a shit. -- Seriously, my face was like >_<. I sat there for about 5 minutes and not even a turtlehead. This was frustrating, and even though the book I was reading was fairly interesting, I didn't feel like sitting on the can waiting for my carrots to digest so I could shit it out.

So I decided that I would just ignore the feeling.

This is where things turned bad. 10 minutes later, all of a sudden as I was sitting at my computer, there was a blinding pain. It was like... A massive hurting. You know the pain that hurts so bad that you dont know exactly where in your body it's originating from, but you just know that it's bad?

Yep. That kind of pain.

I ran to the bathroom, in hopes that I could exorcise the demon of pain from my body.

I sat down and there was an A-bomb explosion. A mushroom cloud in reverse. Words cannot express how much shit was expelled from my body due to my excessive eating of carrots and apples and rice. It must have been all the fiber.

Thinkin I had finished and I started to go for the toilet paper when all of sudden, completely unbidden to me there was ANOTHER explosion.

Needless to say, when the ordeal was done, I was completely spent and had to take a nap.

..and the moral of the story is that I can't tell the difference between hunger and diarrhea.

Posted by Kim at 04:27 PM | Comments (9)

January 01, 2005

Return of madpimp...return of me?

Happy New Year! And happy it is indeed.

It's only coincidental that the great unveiling of the new madpimp.com should occur on the first of the year. But maybe it means something. Maybe this will be a great new start.

This is what I hope.

The love that went into madpimp.com since 1999 died out sometime between 2002 and 2003. Since then I had a short affair with the domain klover.org. Still, I could not forget my first, my one, and now I realize, my only.

What is unveiled is only a glimpse of what I have planned for my site in the future... but, it is a start.

Posted by Kim at 11:46 AM | Comments (4)