Tyler Walker made his major league debut yesterday. He was an acquaintenace in college. I remember smoking chronic with him at his fraternity house. He got a dinger hit off him by the Phillies' Scott Rolen. At least he made it to the show, though.



Mike Crudale got his first major league win yesterday by pitching one scoreless inning of relief. Me and "Crew" played baseball in high school together when he got sent down to JV. Apparently, he's been in and out of the majors all year. Who knew.



Tyler Beeson is one of the "filmmakers" behind Bumfights, a mail-order video that CNN says is "grisly footage of homeless men fighting and performing dangerous stunts. He's friends with Crudale. I played baseball with him also.




Dick Pole is a former pitching coach for the SF Giants. He has a funny name. I've never smoked chronic with him.

I just found out that they're holding the county fair on my face. The main attraction: The World's Biggest Zit.

ouchies.

cigarettes cost 7 dollars as of yesterday



So I met Joe for a late dinner with his African princess Kadeeja in tow. We went to a Mexican joint on 108 and amsterdam. I had two damn good pacificos and some sub par enchiladas. damn i hate east coast Mexican food. after dinner we walked around trying to find a bar with air conditioning and the fourth place we went to was some place i had never been in. we went to a fifth place before deciding on the fourth place. after about 10 minutes, we realized it was hot as fuck in there. 20 minutes later, we realized that it was a gay bar after we put two and five together: the bartender. the music. the clientele. the fact that no one was playing pool. and when we saw that the episode of "friends" playing on the TV was on videotape, that was the clincher. whatever.

It was hot. we wanted to play some pool but the bartender said he had no quarters. how gay. how gay. I went to the corner store to get some change and wanted to buy a 10 cent now & later with five bucks but was rejected. the next store i went to the guy had pity on me so i came back with some change and we played. I was hot, i was on fire. but soon i realized if i cleared the table we wouldn't be able to play anymore because of the quarter shortage so I started playing left-handed. we played some weird african version of billiards where joe would take a shot, I would take a shot, then kadeeja would take two shots while joe would teach her how to hold the cue, shoot the cue ball, and sink the balls. her head looks like a cue ball. she's bald. three times i wanted to ask joe why she didn't have any hair but I figured it was an african thing. she's pretty. it was damn hot and i was sweaty. some shy gay guy was watching us play, i suppose dancing to dancing queen wasn't his thing. by that time it was full blown flaming with dudes openly checking me out while voguing their hearts out.

After i sunk the 8 with an amazing mass�, joe used the remaining four balls to give kadeeja some pointers. it was really fun to watch them interact. although joe speaks some of the togolese dialect, they always speak in french. he would french it up to her and she would do a little dance after she sunk a shot. it took her a long ass time. she had a nice smile. when she finally sunk the last ball we all cheered and I gave her a high five. she's good at giving high fives.

Went to MK on saturday. got ridiculously drunk. had to be carried out like the drunken third ahjushi. from what i can remember, i wasn't too much of an ass, i remember making linda dance with me, laying down in some random person's booth, and asking someone if he had a problem. that's about it. I woke up at brian's house the next morning with a bump on the side of my head. we ate some mediocre BBQ and then i went home to recuperate before meeting up with the Happy One for dinner cuz i promised a long time ago. all night all this person talked about was how someone needs to teach me a lesson in regards to my ph-------ing. that is all.

this is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass

In other news, i met up with yilo and hyung min at do hwa, a chi chi korean restaurant in the west village. there i was served delicious fried shrimps from a white bartender. damn that white boy sure knew how to prepare some good ass korean shrimps...actually, it was his mexican homeboy in the back that made em, i think.




tim joined us soon thereafter. suddenly i had the bright idea to suggest that we go bowling after me and yilo had a rousing scene recall session regarding the big lebowski. everyone was down. good call me.



we headed to bowlmoor lanes in the heart of greenwich village. they had some weird ass neon pin shit goin on and i couldn't see nada. unlike the picture, the lanes were completely dark and it fucked with my game to no end. i bowled a miserable 70 the first game but bounced back in fine form in the second round to capture a match-high 147. yilo only needed 6 pins in the last frame to beat tim and hyung min but he ended up knocking down 5. we tied. argh.

boozing in frushing

here are some photos from thursday night. me and brian headed out to flushing and chilled with some friends. we hit up bayside's version of porno palace and then went to new york new york which was completely freakin' empty. It was the first time I ever got a martini in a freakin' scotch glass.

as you can tell by our expressions, a good time was had by all.

wack

ok, something horrible happened. my roommate lost his job. do you realize what this means? it means my days are no longer roommate-free and his ample ass will now be on the couch 24-7. argh. But at least i know he probably won't be yoinking his pinga on our couch during the day cuz we have a big window in the living room so the people in the condos across the way would be able to see him (this is why he always watches TV in the dark at nite - at first i thought it was to achieve a cinematic effect...riiight.). I've been meaning to ask billy if he has the same problem with Sir Yoinks...damn, i hope they don't read this shit, oh well, i'll consider it like an anonymous note. too bad they don't have "masturbating on couch in living room" as a category on theyshouldknow, that web site where you can send nameless emails to people with stank breath and BO.

homeboy already realized that we'll be spending more time in each other's presence cuz he started being nice to me. what a phony. he offered to help me set up a new computer system by buying the parts separately from pricewatch or tom's hardware.

i say hell no because by his lame rationale, i will then be indebted to him for life, i.e. giving him cigarettes. bah. but i'm already in the market for a new computer, been looking on ebay for systems and found some interesting setups. this one guy sells bare bones systems for pretty cheap, around $500-600 for pentium 4, 2.2 Ghz, 256 RAM, GeForce vid card, DVD-ROM. check it out here.

we lost.





It was a good run. See you in 2006.

Here's 2 recent pics of my little nieces. Which hapa will turn out cuter?

Julia



Shinjee


ps. go korea!

one man gang

So I spent all day yesterday recovering from the drunken stupor I was in Friday night and early Saturday morning. Basically, I fell asleep from about the 78th minute to the penalty shootout. But then I was wide freakin awake. But drunk. I don't remember much from the game. But I sure was a meathead, though. I've been becoming more and more of a meathead when I'm super drunk and it's scaring me.

But this is only when I am drunk off my ass, mind you. Ok, so here's what happened. After the game, we all poured into the streets and had a big party down 32nd street. My voice is hoarse, of course. I jumped onto a telephone booth to snap some pictures for KoreAm and then someone handed me a big Korean flag to wave and me and some other guy led the crowd in a cheer. Then the fickle crowd got sick of us and the guy that handed me the flag wanted it back. My brothers got tired after a half hour and went to Yilo's to catch some sleep because we had to meet our cousins Tina and Esther for lunch the next day. At freakin 11:30 at that. So I told them I'd meet them there.

Here's where it gets interesting. After my brothers left I somehow transformed from jubilant soccer fan to rowdy hooligan. I celebrated with the crowd for about 20 more minutes then got tired and started walking back. Some white guy rode by on a bike and muttered something derogatory to me. I don't remember exactly what but I do remember that the night before some guy in the back of a taxi yelled, "Korea sucks!" and maybe I was remembering that. In any case, the guy on the bike was talking shit. That's all I needed. I saw a half-eaten slice of cheese pizza on the sidewalk and decided that I would get my revenge on the shit-talking bike rider. He was quickly making his way down the street towards Penn Station and I started a brisk jog. Just my luck, I see that he stopped in front of Penn to talk to some people. So I slowly crept up and lined up my shot. When I was within range I hurled the large slice with all my might.

My aim was true and I hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. It was a great shot from about 15 feet away and I kind of felt like I was assassinating the president or something. I didn't wait to hear any reaction from him and ran away around a corner. I took off my red shirt and thought that my white undershirt was a good disguise and started calmly walking down the street, whistling Dixie.

About 2 minutes later, the bike rider rolls up beside me and goes, "Did you throw that pizza at me?" with a mean expression. I couldn't believe he tried to get revenge for my revenge. So I was like, "Yeah, motherfucker, that was me. Now I'm gonna kick your ass!" And I started towards him but he got scared and started riding away. It was then that I broke into a full sprint and he starts pedaling away with all his might. I consider myself pretty fast (4.85 seconds in the 40 yard dash) but this fucker is on a bike so what can i do. I was about even with him for an entire block, yelling at him to get back here and how I'm gonna beat his fucking ass motherfucker, yada yada yada.

It must of been funny for passerby seeing some Korean kid chasing a guy on a bike with a pizza stain on his back down 31st Street. Anyway, the guy finally gets away and I find myself walking down 8th Avenue, totally adrenalized from my meatheadness. So I decide to engage in some one-man hooliganism. I warm up by kicking bags of garbage into the street and then I get the bright idea to kick a newspaper machine. Damn, those things are strong. After about a block, I see a bus stop, one of those glass enclosed ones that look kind of like this. I take a running start and do a flying side kick into it and it completely shatters and I'm showered in bits of glass. I cut up my hand and arm in about 10 places and i start bleeding a lot. The blood is thick and gooey. I wipe it on my shirt to accentuate my insanity. People are staring at me. I take off my shoes and shake tons of broken glass outta them and continue on my way. At this point I've taken on the role of insane person and if anyone looks at me funny I snarl at them. This black guy was staring at me and I was like, "What?! You got a problem?" and he mumbles something about not having a problem and this older woman starts running away in fear. I pass by a Korean deli and yell "Go Korea!" at the top of my lungs and the hooliganism is complete. Somehow I make it to my brother's house and wash off the blood and pass out.

The end.

we won!!!

Here's the Village Voice review of my brother's play, which i will see tonite for the third time. He doesn't get a mention in the review, unfortunately. He plays one of the photographers.

Euphoria in Manhattan's Koreatown, 6/18/2002, 10 a.m. EST
























Photos taken by Y. Peter Kang
Copyright � 2002

WE WON!!!!!!!

Holy shit. I watched the game in k-town and we were going fucking crazy. Damn, it was crazy. Photos to follow.

we won!


ouch

I went to Fire Island this weekend. A good time was had by all. Deezam i'm sore. Played mad basketball, we got beat twice. bah. Fire Island is also known as the mecca of skateboarding. Just kidding, i borrowed some kid's board and wowed the little punks:

I just took this today on the way to Taco Bell. I think i'm a pretty good photographer. If you look really hard, you can see the dollar sign.



I'm gone for the weekend. Have a good time, everyone.

p.s. we won! now it's time for shim yuk gang aka the round of 16.

inspect her gadget

My digital camera finally arrived. It's a Canon Elph Powershot 330. Works great.

Here's how I look in a dusty mirror:

SirFreeLancelot

Oh yeah, my cover story for KoreAm came out yesterday. here's the fake picture on the cover.



At least my story looks good, except the layout is kind of hard to read, the margins are screwed up and there are big black lines covering some text, they were put there for artistic reasons. bah.

It's my first cover story but I don't feel that excited. I wonder why. Is it because it's for a very small niche market magazine? Probably. I guess I just have delusions of grandeur. Or maybe it's because I've been writing for KoreAm since 1998. I think i need some new publications to write for.

I don't have a job. Part of me wants to have the security of a full-time job and part of me wants to just jump into the world of freelance. I haven't really had a chance to devote myself fully to this endeavor and I'm thinking I can make a living off it if I just get my shit together. It's all about self-motivation, I suppose. Something I'm not really that good at. bah. The soft deadline of magazines and the whole process of pitching stories is a big turnoff.

Anyway, here's what I'm looking into for freelance: Rolling Stone, Esquire, Spin, Maxim, Stuff, wired.com*, Wired*, GQ, Men's Health, New York magazine, Los Angeles magazine, New York Times city section, Wall Street Journal online, and of course, Gene Simmon's Tongue.



*Already written articles for

For your viewing pleasure, here's a group of racy Italian advertisements too hot for TV. This kind of reminds me of that hidden pictures thing from Highlights.

Fun with a purpose, indeed.

we tied!!!





we tied.

I checked my box at the journalism school and Jen Cho left some pictures of us from the boat ride. She's such a nice girl, always doing things like that.



My parents are in town to watch my brother's play. Opening night was yesterday. It was pretty good. Review to come. My parents also gave me pictures from graduation, I think i might scan some of those pictures in.

i changed my template. thanks, blogskins.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

we won!

we won!!!

a toast to your memory

It was a great day today. 75 degrees, nice breeze, low humidity. So me and Teri walked a bunch. Went to the Guggenheim and checked out some art. Fernand L�ger. We discussed his progression through his career and how different his earlier work was compared to one of his final pieces, "The Great Parade," which he painted a year before his death at the overripe age of 74.




I liked Picasso's "Woman with Yellow Hair."



Later, we saw another woman with yellow hair, you may know her as Murphy Brown. We were walking down Fifth Avenue and Candice Bergen stopped at the crosswalk with us and Teri said, "Wait a minute, isn't that..." and I was like "who?" And then I saw her and said, "oh." We both didn't want to seem like celebrity worshipping assholes so we just shut up. But really I wanted to shout, 'Loved you in Miss Congeniality!' like some kind of rabid fan but I was able to restrain myself after slowly counting to 10. She was wearing grey sweatpants with a thong (yes, i looked) and a sweater around her neck. She walks damn fast.

* * *

Shouts out to: choiboi and dk song in amsterdam - the envelope please...y. peter kim in the 213 - keep bangin, yo...charles lim - where you at kid?...janey jane - i miss you...yoon suk il in korea - stop using my name.

6-cha

my life.

galapagos- right on time.
il bagatto- first time eating in the lounge. calamari was excellent.
10th street lounge - interesting convo with my homeboy keegan about his failed relationship.
tribe - the non-gay guy, talking to my dad about inheritance money, dictation, 2 grey goose martinis...i pick everything up...bah.
W hotel - red light, the latina with the black lipstick, talkin high school football, big chinatown fight...damn.
stupid pizza joint owned by koreans who only have pepperoni and broccoli - i'm out.

fuck.

"No, I didn't."

I'm a bad boy. I have many secrets. That is all.

i hate blogging. blogging is lame

so Eugene aka choiboi took off at around 5pm, and five hours later, keegan, my homeboy from high school showed up. yay.

1. APT - it was ok. the best part was when Traci was telling me about how much she hated me. I loved it. she loved it. she's gone.

2. Remote Lounge - lame. I peed in the corner on some shit.

3. Guernica - lame. what do you expect on a wednesday night.

4. Sidewalk - dummies don't like burgers i guess.

5. Nino's pizza - fuckers gave my damn gyro away, but i made them pay...

6. Cherry tavern - whatever. tequila special x2. i was tired.

So I'm thinking about:

A. Moving my blog to an unknown address.

B. Password-protecting this blog or a future blog.

C. Quitting blogging and writing my shit in Microsoft Word.

D. Nothing.

E. To hell with everything and spill the beans.

Winner is You!

represent BK to the fullest...


Robert Varkonyi of Brooklyn, N.Y., poses with his $2 million dollar winnings Friday, May 24, 2002, at the Binion's Horshoe Casino in Las Vegas. Varkonyi won the 33rd World Series of Poker. The queen and ten card on the money was his winning hand in the no-limit Texas hold-em game.(AP Photo/Joe Cavaretta)

I haven't posted a good entry in quite some time. I find that putting the details of my life down publicly on the internet gets me into trouble.