Thursday, November 13, 2008


I've often thought long and hard about my beliefs, especially in the political realm. I'm not a diehard partisan, although I doubt I'll ever vote for the Republican party in its current form. I've always felt the Democrats naive and insensitively compassionate. I think Libertarianism is a train wreck (how can you purport to seek public office if your entire platform is to eliminate public office?) and I've found the Green Party to be condescending and patronizing.

But I do know what I believe in.

I'm not black, but I do know it is certainly wrong to judge others by the shade of their skin, the slant of their eyes, the waviness of their hair.

I'm not gay, but I do know that common rights guaranteed to citizens by their representative government should be rights inclusive to all citizens.

I'm not poor, but I do know that it is in our common decency to help our neighbors and our friends when they need it more than us.

I'm not religious, but I do respect for those who live their lives for a higher belief, a higher sacrifice, and for a higher purpose than I can ever do myself.

I'm highly educated, but I do not disavow others for not having the same opportunities, life situation, or luck as I.

Most of all, I am rational enough to realize that although I may not be on the wrong end of injustices, I am empathetic to those who are. History in America has a tendency to grant equality to those who are systematically disenfranchised. Barack Obama is proof of this. The phrase "the wrong side of history" has been used a lot in this election cycle to decry the political tendencies of the Vietnam-era baby boomers, and I am glad that my generation can always be proud that this time, we're going to be on the right side of history.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008


I was flying from SAN to SFO yesterday, and someone was in line in front of me at the security checkpoint. And this person was getting checked by the TSA Security officials and was holding me up. You will never guess who held me up at security in San Diego airport.


Wait for it.




I got held up in San Diego Airport by....




So it was totally awesome because the contents of his bag were being checked by the TSA officials, and I was totally all up in his bizness and he was totally calm as if he gets checked by TSA officials all the time. And he had his Blackberry and his iPhone out and get this, as they're looking through his bags, he is all nonchalant-like LOOKING AT PICTURES OF NAKED LADIES ON HIS IPHONE! I KID YOU NOT!


God damn, I want to be Ludacris so badly at this point, IT HURTS ME I TELL YOU.

In the end, Ludacris had a bottle of COCOA BUTTER that was larger than the limit of liquids that you could bring on a plane so they had to throw it out. One of his posse was like - "Fuck that, throw it away, we'll get more of that in Frisco."

And I stood there in awe. All 5 foot 7 (very short!) of Ludacris and his two-man posse left the security area. Ludacris moved and I did not move. Just like that.

80 million different scenarios "what if" scenarios played in my mind.

I could have been like "what is taking so goddamn long to get through security!!? This is LUDICROUS!!!"

Or even like "Yo, Luda, MOVE BITCH GET OUT THE WAY!"

Or perhaps even a simple "ROLL OUT!!!"

Instead, I did nothing. But when I got home, I went to the store and bought cocoa butter. It helps prevent stretch marks and is wonderful for chapped lips and dry itchy skin as well as having a relatively pleasant aroma!

Cocoa butter is approved by Ludacris as well as multiple hoes in multiple area codes.