An old friend sent me these pics (neither of which I remember being taken; well, maybe one, but vaguely) this morning. Make me a little nostalgic for those Brooklyn loft parties and times when we put the pencil down from auditing and picked up a few pints of Stella.

Cheers to Joker smiles and kisses on the Chen,

The Damnbassador

You don’t think it happens? Oh yes it does. Everyday, in fact. If you don’t believe me, ask Sam Bull. Or better yet, come see for yourself.

Q: Best way to adapt?

A: Well, it’s not an issue of tissue, so that won’t help. Try Ambassador style diplomacy - “Excuse me, can I hold that nostril for you?” or “I like your technique. Are you free tonight?”

Someone thinks so.

It was a pleasant fall afternoon in ChengDu. The weather was mild and as I strolled through Huan Hua Xi with YangHan, the mei-est of mei nu, my only concern was fending off the mosquitoes from the lake beside us. But you know how I roll. I mean, damn, am I Xzibit, ‘cus those paparazzi followed me all the way across the Pacific. Okay, not exactly, but…

Out of no where, a young guy with a camera bag and large Nikon flung around his neck appeared. He didn’t speak English, so he spoke directly to YangHan. She translated. He wanted to take my picture for a wood floor advertisement.

Consider a few things:
1. I’m not photogenic. My best side might be my back side and my best profile would have to include words, not images.

2. I just don’t see it. I’m not an ugly guy, but I doubt I can persuade anyone, even your average Chinese (to whom I guess every white guy seems exotic looking), that I’m a hip foreigner.

3. What if he took my head and put it on someone else’s, much sexier body? I mean, yeah, chicks would dig it, but what if my Mom came across it when she was surfing her hotmale account (sorry Worm, thanks to the Patriot Act kids  can now obtain copies of their parents’ Google searches). And worst than that, how would all those girls who rejected me in high school feel now to know I’m such a hunk a man.? Poor things.

He asked if I could find a foreign girl, too. Then he asked for my “dianhua haoma” (cell number), but I didn’t have one, so he asked for YangHan’s. LOL. An innocent bystander wounded. She obliged and I agreed to think about it.

‘Cus I shook it off. That’s right, moment’s ago, your’s truly fell into a man hole here in China. I don’t want to jump the gun, but I think Wily E. Coyote might have had something to do with it. It was covered, but the lid slightly off-center. I only ceded a ‘Whoa!’ and a BIG “buhaoyisi” (embarassed) grin before I secured the lid so that no one else would have the chance to look as cool as me (you know, the dust-all-over-my-pants look is now in). The parking lot attendants didn’t rush to my aid, but they did validate my actions with big smiles and a thumbs up as I walked past.

It’s interesting because just last week QY told me about people stealing man hole covers from the highway to melt them down. He also told me about a guy he saw on the news who tried to steal some electric lining because it had copper inside, but was burnt severely in the process. Said the guy was actually smoking. LOL. If only Ben Affleck had touched some electric t*ts as a teen he might have learned his lession earlier.

Anyway, I ‘m battling roaches and spiders for keyboard space, so forgive me if a “snlasdghf” shows up somewhere in a post.

Always Everyone’s,

The Scambassador

Once I quit my job, it was as if my mind switched gears. I stopped thinking like an associate and started thinking like a creator. Maybe it’s due to our natural instinct for survival or urge toward creativity. Then again, maybe it’s a fear of failure. Whatever the case may be, my mind has never been more active in my life.

Although I’m more well-rested than I ever was in the past two years I was toiling, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the sleepless nights I’ve had in the past three months, the number of which is quickly approaching those which I experienced in 5 years of University study. But I do not believe they’re a result of unsettledness about my business, but rather a neccesity to clear my mind of the ideas that it is generating.

In that regards, I think it would be most accurate to say that I’ve enjoyed many sleepless nights, detailing business ideas, some for no other reason than to put my mind at rest; a cleansing of sorts. As I write this, it is October, (Friday the) 13th, 0409AM. I just wrote what I believe will be the beginning of a revolutionary business idea that will make me (if not my first, then at least my second) millions…if I can get some capital

P.S. This idea is not related to the VOCAST post