Entries for September, 2006
Forty-six unfortunate insect splatters on my car's bumper, grill and windshield are the result of my family's road trip this Labor Day weekend. Because I'm a coldhearted murderer that could care less for the little people, I don't dwell on the repercussions of my rampant blitzkrieg through the parched desert roads en route to Vegas and the Grand Canyon.
But somewhere out there in Arizona's scorching brush, a family of mosquitos is huddled in its little government-contracted sublet apartment, wondering why daddy hasn't yet returned from his minimum-wage night shift at the local blood donation clinic. I could probably send a compensation check or something to the widows and their children, but you know how we high-rollers throw down. Life's tough.
Last week, I met up with a guy I'd befriended through [shut up] World of Warcraft. It was just so weird - I was halfway expecting my blind date to be some hairy old mammoth of a man that used his fantasy alter-ego Warlock character to search out and brutally molest short Korean students and threaten to hack into their accounts and delete their characters if they ever told the authorities.
However, he turned out to be a nice enough guy, I'm sure to many people's disappointment. It was a very strange feeling to meet with someone you'd only seen as a muscular, heavily bearded master of dark arcane magics who enjoys draining the souls out of his victims' charred husks.
Apparently, my grandfather back in Korea has been chosen as a test subject for a newly-revived Captain America project. The other day, I overheard an otherwise boring and uninteresting conversation between my mother and my aunt and in passing heard something pertaining to my grandfather that simply made no sense.
Usually, when one hears certain words in rapid succession after one another, the logical conclusion to be drawn is that those words and the consequent phrase they make up is a whole, valid statement that constitutes a complete thought. But these words defied all standards of logic. So I inquired further.
It turns out that since I'd last seen him, my grandfather had taken it upon himself to get in shape. Now, "getting in shape" for a man pushing 80 years old usually connotes a brisk walk in the morning and monitoring his fiber intake. It usually does not mean that a man old enough to have served in World War II has created for himself a perfectly toned, completely ripped, massively sexy physique that most men in their twenties dream about.
I suppose that's what 5,000 push-ups a day will do for you. Yeah, that's no typo. Five OH OH OH. As in, OH crap, that's a real nice six-pack you've got there, gramps. As in, OH man, are those bulging masses of flesh pectoral muscles or breast implants? As in, OH for the love of God, please don't bench press my dad like that - you'll snap his back. And from what my grandmother said, he's also been working on his Chinese calligraphy, has been playing the piano, and is continually working on improving his acupuncture methods. Great. Now I've got Grandpa Renaissance staring back at me in the mirror every time I wash my face or take a shower. I told my friends about Mr. Perfect over lunch, and we agreed that there was only one thing to do.
The five of us would from that day forward begin an underground training regiment akin to the mental and physical meditations of Shaolin monks or Himalayan ninjas. We will forgo food and carnal pleasures in favor of crushing boulders beneath our feet and regularly punching bears in the face. When we feel we are sufficiently prepared, we five will trek to Korea to challenge my grandfather to an epic battle to assert our manhood and youth.
We'll give him about 15 years to ripen up a bit. You know. To be fair.
Written by jihwan at 11:55 PM.