I’m an avid David Sedaris fan. Ever since my friend turned me onto his humorous slice-of-life essays with Me Talk Pretty One Day, I’ve been hooked.

He just released his newest book, entitled Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk: A Modest Bestiary, and it’s both similar to and unlike most of his other stuff.

Don’t get me wrong, the stories are still melancholy and satirical in nature, but the delivery is a bit different this time around. When I first saw the book, I assumed this was a Sedarisian take on children’s stories, what with the smaller book size and the animal themes.

After reading most of the book, it’s safe to say that impressionable young kids should come NOWHERE near this book. The stories, mostly allegorical tales, don’t really have an uplifting tone; more often than not, they’re tales of a dark, satirical nature. There’s also a lot of colorful language and adult themes, which only made me like it more.

Stories such as The Toad, the Turtle, and the Duck, in which the three disgruntled critters bitch and moan about having to wait in a long line at a service desk of some sort (much like the experience we all have at the DMV), takes on an edgy, twisted tone toward the end, and is effective in its portrayal of the same frustrations we experience on a regular basis.

The Faithful Setter explores the dynamic of a dysfunctional marriage between two Irish setters brought about by infidelity. It’s a common suburban story, but spun into the realm of domesticated dogs, which is different.

I don’t want to ruin the impact of many of these stories, as part of the book’s appeal lies in its surprises. You don’t really know if the stories are going to have dark, depressing endings or melancholy endings. Part of the impact of stories such as The Motherless Bear and The Cow and the Turkey are best felt after just reading them for yourself.

If you’ve ever enjoyed a David Sedaris book, then check this out. If you haven’t yet indulged in his witty, cleverly-composed writing, check out Me Talk Pretty One Day or Naked, and move on from there. This one will make more sense if you’re familiar with his storytelling style.

Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk isn’t for everyone, but if you can appreciate slightly twisted stories about animals that are also about humans, then this book’s for you.

When the Founding Fathers designed the Constitution, they explicitly made it so women couldn’t vote. Later, we decided that was simply a sign of the times, and everyone should have the right to vote. We like to right wrongs, and so we reversed this trend and gave women equal rights. What we failed to realize was that the Founding Fathers were geniuses and never intended for women to have the right to vote.

"She said I couldn't touch these again, if she couldn't vote!"

I’m not a misogynist. I don’t believe that a woman’s role is in the kitchen or the bedroom. I don’t even believe that they shouldn’t be politicians. I believe women are capable of doing pretty much everything a man can do, except use logic. Women are illogical creatures, overrun by emotion, that believe the world should be remade in their image. Men tolerate and accept this behavior because breasts are delightful.

But, Ben Franklin was a stronger man than we are today.  Along with his posse, they developed a system that was woman immune. A system that would last through the centuries, even after the time they died. And they would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for…er…Sorry. I woke up to Scooby Doo. The point here is, they didn’t deny women the right to vote as a side note. They denied women the right to vote because they knew what we all know. Women are fucking crazy.

A face you can trust...

It is true what they say, behind every good man is a good woman. But, we need to remember that behind a good man is the place for a good woman. They think in ways that men cannot fathom, and come up with some of the best ideas around. But, for them, picking a politician is like picking a pair of shoes: chosen for looks, often times uncomfortable, and definitely not something to be worn more than once.

Now, I’ll admit that not all men should be allowed to vote either, but we already have laws that prevent convicted felons from voting…

Let’s talk about marriage. Marriage is an idea that people are quickly becoming disenchanted with. As more and more people believe that it is okay to get divorced, they stop wanting to be married. It loses meaning if you can get out of it. But people still want sex, and so not only do they not get married, but they become increasingly promiscuous. Or worse, they develop ideas like polyamory, so that they can share their love (sex organs) with others and still be married. Within 100 years, we will be a nation of sluts. I am not pleased with this idea.  As always, I have the solution.

New Marriage Divorce Form

In order to stop the world from descending into the Second Circle of Hell, we need a response. That response is New Marriage. New Marriage is kind of like old marriage, and by old marriage I mean Biblical marriage. And by that I mean if you commit adultery or divorce, you get shot. In the head. With bullets. And not love bullets. Bullets that cause death. Or set on fire. Or electrocuted. Or ya know. Something to that effect.

By invoking New Marriage, we can restore the sanctity of marriage. People will once again have to think about what they are doing before they make a lifelong commitment, and with technology (camera phones, video tape, etc) it will be very easy to prove when someone is cheating on someone else. And no, polyamory is not okay in New Marriage. It’s a one to one relationship. If you don’t like that, don’t get New Married.

Ceremonies aren't necessary, but I like rings.

New Marriage will solve many problems. For one, girls (or guys) who marry for money will have to be committed to that relationship for the rest of their lives. There is no remarrying after death in New Marriage. There is no having sex with other people after your partner dies in New Marriage. You are committed for your life time. Secondly, we’re going to open New Marriage up to all people. That includes same-sex New Marriage. There’s no reason anyone shouldn’t be able to put their life on the line to show that they care about someone, regardless of sexual orientation. Finally, New Marriage will restore meaning to an dying institution. We very much need marriage to be sacred. It’s the culmination of the highest of our emotions.  It is the most of ourselves that we can share with another, and in its current state you may as well just give someone a rose. It’ll wither almost as quickly.

And for old marriage? It hardly matters what you do with it. Keep for people who are borderline committed, but think they might divorce someday. New Marriage will be for those who are willing to risk everything to show their love. I think that’s how it should be.

I’m spending the summer in Nepal — doing stuff that’s none of your business. I may die. I may live. It really depends on how good I am at sweet talking those pesky Maoists.  Seeing as I have never even been able to get out of speeding ticket, chances may be slim.

Currently, enjoying hour 8 of my 10 hour layover in Hong Kong, and I just had to share with you some of the amazing things I’ve been experiencing thus far.

1. It’s 1000 degrees here. I am literally in a melting pot. And I am dead.  After being in the airport and in vehicles for close to fifteen hours, I longed to inhale real life air. Little did I know, that real life air here tastes like steaming hot B.O.

2. I visited a mall called Harbour City. It’s HK’s biggest mall boasting over 2 million sq feet of retail space. 2 million. This is great for someone who really dislikes shopping. I think it’s the city’s favorite hobby.  Needless to say, I was lost for about two hours…  I did find a bunch of Indian guys milling around the malls trying to hawk stuff. I dunno what… but they were targeting young girls that looked like me.  Anyone know what this is? Perhpas HK’s version of selling star maps on Sunset?

3. There is a toilet restaurant called Modern Toilet where you sit on toilets and food is also served in toilet dishes. Oh yea, and if you get the ice cream, it looks like poo. As God is my witness, I am going to visit this place before I’m back in September.

4. Also, am planning to visit the first modelled to scale Noah’s Ark located in Ocean Park. Though, how does anyone know how big it was supposed to be?  People, Noah fit 2 of each animal on earth on that thing. I’m just sayin…

5. HK is very foreigner friendly. Everyone speaks english (it’s actually one of the official languages), and no one gropes you physically. Only with their eyes. It’s kinda nice.

Thus far, I have discovered that there are many occasions in which I threaten impending death. “If that happens, I will die” has become one of my favorite overused statements. Here is a short list of some of the situations where I should have died, (but miraculously didn’t):

1. If I sit in traffic for more than 5 minutes
2. If I get a parking ticket
3. If he doesn’t call
4. If I’m late
5. If I walk one more step
6. If there is no more mustard
7. If I don’t get into Columbia
8. If I don’t book that commercial
9. If they forgot the hot sauce
10. If you make me drink that Orange Vitamin Water
11. If it rains
12. If it’s cloudy
13. If I don’t go to the bathroom right now
14. If I don’t get an A
15. If I get a C
16. If I can’t pay my credit card bill
17. If he farts
18. If my boobs don’t grow
19. If you eat the last chicken McNugget
20. If I fail my drivers test twice

I probably utter this phrase, once an hour, which means that I technically should have died about a million by now. Clearly, somebody up there likes me.

Coming soon:  “I will kill you if you…” reasons

There has been a lot of buzz surrounding Taylor Kitsch, who plays resident bad boy Tim Riggins on the hit NBC show Friday Night Lights, since portraying loner card shark with kinetic energy and wicked skills with a Bo staff, Remy LeBeau (a.k.a. Gambit), in one of May’s huge blockbuster releases X-Men Origins: Wolverine. However, a lot of this buzz has been concentrated on his humble beginnings instead of looking at his dedication, determination, and commitment to his craft.

Taylor will be the first one to tell you that his life didn’t exactly go according to plan. He was going to be a professional hockey player not an actor, and definitely not a model; but after a career ending injury, Taylor had to find a new plan… and what a plan.

After minor roles in Snakes on a Plane and John Tucker Must Die, Taylor was given one of the leading roles in the supernatural teen thriller, The Covenant. Taylor’s portrayal of the second oldest of The Sons of Ipswich, hot headed Pogue Perry, really gave him the vehicle to show that, even though he has a hot body and a pretty face, he can also act. He then carried this momentum to the set of Friday Night Lights and for the last three years, Taylor has shown that there are many complex layers to the character of Tim Riggins.

Even though Taylor has enjoyed success on Friday Night Lights, he still felt the desire to flex his acting muscles, instead of his bulging biceps, and took on the role of real-life photojournalist Kevin Carter in The Bang Bang Club, a biopic film due out next year, chronicling the lives of three photojournalists who were in South Africa during the Apartheid. Taylor dove into this role head first and gave it everything he had – literally. The 5’10 actor lost 30 pounds in order to bring a greater sense of verisimilitude to the film. Many were shocked to see Taylor’s gaunt transformation, as he is usually extremely built for his role as Tim Riggins, but he dug deep, channeled the tortured soul of Kevin Carter and delivered a performance that, I’m sure, will go down in cinematic history. Taylor, and the rest of the cast, was at The Cannes Film Festival earlier this month pre-promoting this film.

The one thing that impresses me the most about Taylor Kitsch is that he wants to be recognized as a serious actor instead of relying on his God-given good looks like so many young actors tend to do these days. Both the big and little screens are filled with beautiful people who really don’t have much acting talent and rely on their looks to get them roles. Taylor’s drive and passion doesn’t allow him to just sit back on his laurels’ and say “Here I am. Photograph me.” He studies and commits himself wholeheartedly to the roles he chooses. There is no half-way for Taylor Kitsch. He’s proven that “Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can’t Lose” goes beyond his role on Friday Night Lights.  It’s all or nothing. Go hard or go home. And I, for one, am glad he didn’t.

Last night, I went to watch the second weirdest film I’ve seen at the Hammer Museum. However, it was proceeded by the weirdest assault I’ve had in a while.  Now, I get sexually assaulted more than the average girl.

And no, it’s not because I’m super pretty or super slutty. In fact, I’m neither. I simply have an aura that attracts crazy people. And it’s fine. I’ve learned to deal with it. I’m making up for something terrible I did in a past life. It’s cool.

However, last night’s assault was not the typical tame, yet minor inconvenience that I typically experience. It was terrifying.

Standing at the corner of Wilshire and Westwood, patiently waiting to cross the street, I was greeted by a Mexican man that suspiciously resembled a Home Depot worker. He was wearing a cap and got up from the ledge he was sitting on in order to ask me “Como Estas?”

Lucky for him, that is about 50% of what I recall from Mr. Harris’s spanish class in 7th grade, and I gingerly replied, “Bien Gracias. Y Tu?”  Truth is, I wasn’t all that “Bien,” but that was the only way I had been taught to answer the question.  Little did I realize that “Bien Gracias” would be the advent of my downfall.

He seemed impressed with my bilingual skills, and whispered “Bien” right before he grabbed my hand and kissed it.  Normally, this would have all been fine and dandy, (maybe even a bit flattering), but he didn’t let go of my hand. That was the problem. He held it for a good 30 seconds, before I had to pull it away from him, and even then, he tried to hold on.

I moved 3 feet back, and prayed that more people would show up at this sidewalk. A nuclear bomb being dropped on me– that would have been preferable.

He continued to stare at me, and I looked at him nervously. He smiled and misunderstood my complete terror and repulsion for flirting, by signaling  that he wants to kiss me on the lips. As if, it’s traditional rapist custom to make these inappropriate advances. I quickly shook my head NO, and gave him my terrified glare.

Again, miscommunication, because he took this to mean more flirting. He asked me, “Comma te llama?”  And because that was the other 50% of Harris’s teachings,  I was too excited to realize that I was once again trapped in the Mexican fly paper.

I replied, “Jen”, for once, thankful that I had the 8th most common name in the country. He replied, “My name is Ricardo.” I took a visual snapshot, in case I’d have to remember him for a lineup one day.

He crossed the 3 foot gap between us, and proceeded to grab my hand again. He kissed it again. I quickly let go, as he began to gargle and spit out weird sexual noises. Yes, it was really creepy. Like it felt like he was eating or dying or being born. Maybe it was a combination of the three, but Lord knows, that I stopped looking.

By this time, a bicyclist and two other pedestrians were standing by me. They all looked a bit mental themselves, so I realized that I was all alone. The damn light! It had been 10 minutes, it seemed, but the red hand flashed persistently in my direction.

“Jenny, you need to pay for your sins,” it seemed to be taunting me.  But, I do not tolerate abuse. No more. I made a vow never to be one of those submissive Asian ladies that eat up psychological, racial, and sexual abuse for breakfast. I do not tolerate any of this bullshit, especially from an illegal immigrant day laborer.

So, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and started running– running toward whatever direction the wind guided me. Straight. Yes. I was crossing the street, and miraculously, there were no cars. I felt the chilly air on my shoulders, and the fading out of Ricardo’s birthing/sex noises. I was free– free from—

BAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM!

My hip gave out, and suddenly I was flying. I saw Ricardo’s eyes bulge in morbid delight as I was somersaulting through the air.  Hit by a car. A panicked Mexican driver quickly ran out of the drivers side, to see if I was okay. I was not.

Nameless Mexican asked me, “Como Estas?”

But what else could I say, but the only answer that I had been trained with, “Bien Gracias, y tu?”

You might be American if…

10.  When visiting a foreign household without a television, you can’t help but ask “Where is your reality box?”

9. You don’t think eating lunch after brunch is weird.

8. You start panicking when you see a roundabout.

7. You need to make a call to your therapist when you actually have to get out of your car to eat.

6. Your oven broke and you replaced it with a second microwave.

5. The last piece of fruit you touched was a month ago. And it was plastic.

4. When visiting an coffee bar in Rome, you’re confused when the barista doesn’t know how to make a frappucino.

3. You take up All-You-Can-Eat buffets on their word.

2. You talk about Ross and Rachel as if they are real people.

1. You bought a truck to drive up and down mountains like in the commercials…even though you live in the suburbs.

Ever since I’ve been going to the gym– I go for the infomercials and CNN– I swear, I have begun noticing how more and more ridiculous the product and advertising market has become.

The latest product to baffle me is this:

For $24, A Touch of Gray boasts that it “lets you keep some gray,” because I’m sure that that’s exactly what you want… a little bit of gray hair. That way, when you meet a woman at your urologist’s office, she’ll think you’re 42.5, not, 43.  This is retarded.

Two things come to mind. 

1. If you’re already graying, then you probably don’t need to buy a product that makes you gray.  Isn’t it a bit redundant?

2. Why would you want to share with the world that you’re graying?  Be a woman and dye that sh*t back to it’s normal color, and say you’re ten years younger. Who cares? This is LA.  My mother is younger than me. 

Both the website and the commercial remind me of those advertisements, where scantily clad models flock to unattractive men with beer guts and an ice old brewski in hand.  These commercials were so tantalizing and misleading that it led to one of the stupidest lawsuits ever, where:

“In 1991, Richard Overton sued Anheuser-Busch for false and misleading advertising under Michigan State law. The complaint specifically referenced ads involving, among other things, fantasies of beautiful women in tropical settings that came to life for two men driving a Bud Light truck. In addition to two claims of false advertising, Mr. Overton included a third claim in his complaint in which he claimed to have suffered emotional distress, mental injury, and financial loss in excess of $10,0000 due to the misleading Bud Light ads. “

You’ll also notice that some young blond chick who’s probably more likely to be the dude’s daughter is seductively eyeing the “Touch of Gray” hero. I like to get me a gray haired man at least 3x a week.  Why go for Zac Efron, when I can lust after his grandpa?

It’s also gray-t  that you can choose between so many shades of gray or “old” as I like to call it!

Ethnic gray, salt and pepper gray, more than ‘a touch of gray‘ gray, cement gray, and gay gray.  Can you match up the names?

Men, save your $ on something worthwhile that will incite actual change in the world– like presents… for me.