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Thursday, 31 July
In The Evening

Just a little postlet this evening, as I have been out doing various things:

1. Watching our car hork out incredible blats of terrible grey smoke from the tailpipe. Because the wife and I are hopeless fools when it comes to complicated machines like cars, computers, inclined planes and simple hinges, it is entirely possible that we overfilled the car with oil. Currently, it is parked up on 12th Street, where it will sit forlornly until we can locate someone technically sophisticated enough to help us figure out where the oil drain is. I'm guessing it's somewhere tricky, like perhaps in the hatch door, or maybe Flin Flon, Canada.

2. Despite our vehicular titty-twister, we still managed to make it to Safeco Field, where we watched our Ms do the Frug on the crotches of the hopeless Detroit Tigers, a team which has a small, humble prayer of actually achieving 60 wins this season. If they make this arm-pumpless goal, expect them to thank the beneficient voodoo gods and sacrifice a vole to Papa Legba on home plate. STAT OF THE GAME: Detroit's starting pitcher lasted 2/3 of an inning, and left with 9 Seattle runs on the board, 8 earned. Meanwhile in the stands, certain unnamed spectators guzzled 24-ounce beers (at eight bucks a pop) filled with peanut shrapnel (flung there by malicious friends who deserve only sharp jabs to the throat).

3. But before any of that happened, there was my Convenience Store Experience. My local convenience store is owned by, it is almost embarrassing to say just because of its stereotypicality, a genial Korean man. He greets me with a stock array of blandosities: "It is hot!" "Hello Skot!" "It is the helpful man!" (I once helped him decipher a bullshit threatening letter that turned out to be an extortionate missive that implied baseless lawsuit.) But my favorite is, "You need cigarettes!" Which is of course true, but you'd never hear that from your butcher. "You need flank steak!" Maybe I just love unpredictable, confident declaratives.

Today when I walked in to buy smokes, there was such a strange din coming from his stereo behind the counter. For a moment, I couldn't figure it out. It seemed to be some racket (not musical) with a guy babbling strangely, and then raucous laughter. Then I finally got it: it was a CD of Korean stand-up comedy.

I thought: "What the fuck? Koreans don't do stand-up." Then I felt exceedingly stupid: that's like saying Koreans don't bathe or something. And then I thought: "Man, I wish I could understand this Korean stand-up." And then I thought, "Man, I wish I could do Korean stand-up."

Wouldn't that be fucking great? I mean, I love making Americans laugh. But how cool would it be to make Koreans laugh, and then stare at the rest of the non-Korean world and think, "Yeah, sorry. This one's just for the Koreans." And then the icing on the cake, your tax return. Occupation? "Korean Stand-Up Comic."

I'd actually anticipate the audit, just to see their faces.


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Comments

You could also be an mime from Congo (a Congolian mime).

Comment number: 001262   Posted by: Anna on July 31, 2003 03:13 AM from IP: 212.136.78.25

Or you could start a career of performing gymnastics in mud huts. (An Adobe Acrobat).

Comment number: 001263   Posted by: KOTWF on July 31, 2003 06:22 AM from IP: 65.194.133.192

Koreans don't do standup? How about Margaret Cho, HUH?

Comment number: 001264   Posted by: Ryan Waddell on July 31, 2003 07:20 AM from IP: 206.47.252.98

If mud huts make you an adobe acrobat..

is a very unfit dwarf poet a...

Microsoft Word?

boom boom.

sorry

Comment number: 001265   Posted by: david on July 31, 2003 08:31 AM from IP: 202.137.72.52

The oil drains out the bottom of the engine, a big bolt, right on the bottom of the oil pan, you will need a wrench, and something to catch the oil.

By the way, your car probably only holds 4.5 quarts, why the .5, dunno, conspiracy by the oil companies in conjunction with automotive manufacturers.

Comment number: 001266   Posted by: Akula on July 31, 2003 08:43 AM from IP: 156.63.134.4

You made me laugh. Perhaps you could make it as a Stand Up Korean Comic after all.

heh.

Comment number: 001269   Posted by: Dejah420 on July 31, 2003 06:57 PM from IP: 206.176.143.61

Skot, I have never done this, but what would you do if you had a dream about Metafilter? I posted this, because I have read threads about cars and Koreans on that site at some point in the murky (and therefore irrelevent) past.

Comment number: 001270   Posted by: Johnny13 on August 1, 2003 12:38 PM from IP: 163.192.21.3

Sadly, I have dreamed about Metafilter. Not any more though. Now I only have dreams for FARK.

[Disclaimer: I do not actually have FARK-related dreams. Nor should anyone.]

Comment number: 001271   Posted by: Skot on August 1, 2003 01:10 PM from IP: 140.107.120.123

Skot, I had an idea for metafilter that I call murder suicide. It is a simple game that would have to be done in code by MetaGhod, but the jist of it is you can ban one member of MeFi, but at the same time you ban yourself. Would you play such a health, and community building game? You could opt out of the game, but your user number and post totals would be blank were you to do so. You could also, spend say 100 posts to shield yourself against an assassination attempt, in which case the attacker would lose their shield, or be knocked down to zero recorded posts.

What say you Bwana?

Comment number: 001275   Posted by: Johnny13 on August 2, 2003 06:15 AM from IP: 67.73.168.249

I also used to frequent a Korean convenience store. The owner there seemed to be something of a soccer fan, or more precisely a David Backham fan. One day I walked in wearing an English World Cup jersey, and he happily burbled away thus "Bickam, Bickam, Bickam", and then said something frankly incomprehensible.

I of course replied with an indepth analysis of England and their championship hopes, taking into account their past history, the state of hooliganism in the game, and the inability of the English to win in a penalty shootout.

He looked at me with a big grin, cocked his head to the side, and sagely said "Bickam Bickam Bickam".

In fact he sees me every time I go in there and he always says that. It's kind of like in Ghost Dog where Forest Whitaker's ice cream man friend can't understand a word he says.

Except, you know, with soccer and cigarettes.

Comment number: 001276   Posted by: kaf on August 2, 2003 09:59 AM from IP: 68.5.243.50

Skot, I had dinner with 3 people you know. We talked about your car. While we did this, I picked tiny squids out of my pineapple fried rice, cause I did not know they were going to be there. I was eating with these sticks, so I missed most of the good stuff about your car, but people were saying "oil" a whole lot.

Comment number: 001279   Posted by: Johnny13 on August 3, 2003 10:29 AM from IP: 67.73.168.187

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