Keniiiiiiiiiiii's Xanga

Photographic Entry #2 : Janet J. J. Hsu

Thu, 17 Jul 2008 14:06:42 GMT

July, 2008
www.keni.ca

I just purchased ROCKBAND for the Wii

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 15:30:04 GMT

And it's hands-down the worst $169.99 I've spent since that pair of jeans that I swear to god wasn't so tight when I tried it in the dressing room. The overall feel of the drumset can be described as, in big fonttype, utterly inauthentic. The same goes for the "Stratocaster" guitar, which is identical to the Guitar Hero guitar, which was a complete rip-off of the Guitar Freaks guitar, which, to say the least, plays nothing like a guitar. But, I digress.

If only there was insurance for Buyers' Remorse. I read somewhere that Donald Trump once bought a yacht for $52 million, and totally regretted it. What are some of your remorseful purchases?

Do they have a drug that boosts creativity?

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 02:53:42 GMT

(Besides alcohol?)

I've been off alcohol for about a year now; and consequently, you have not seen a single piece of quality blogpiece from me. I have since neither referred to myself as "yours truly" nor summoned my alter-ego "Captain Keni" to rant on my behalf. Sobriety hit me like a metaphysical uppercut-in-chin, effectively sending me flying into the reality that is family life, fulltime employment and a healthy relationship. I feel like some kind of Keni Lite. Like somebody drained the caffeine out of me and replaced my awesomeness with aspartame. I hardly say "fuck" anymore, let alone use it fluently before every applicable noun/adjective/verb. What is this lameness that shrouds my inner Keniiiiiiiiiiii? Alas, enough about my life since that last case of beer.

It occurs to my girlfriend that the higaniga persona on youtube is really funny. I generally shrug off her positive comments about other guys as pitiful attempts to get me jealous, but I couldn't help but see the resemblance between the culture of Youtube and Xanga. These higaniga fellas must've made their way to the top by doing the youtube equivalent of random epropping and furiously replying to comments. Even cakalusa is more funny that those two clowns, and that's hardly a compliment. I mean, c'mon, they are NOT funny.

If the likes of those fruitfucks can achieve that level of stardom, imagine.... oh nevermind, I forgot.

I'm camera shy.

Photographic Entry #1 : Withering in Winter

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 17:03:12 GMT

January, 2008
www.keni.ca

Out of Characterrrrrrrrrrrr?

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 02:33:43 GMT

It seems to be concerning a handful of you that my composition no longer reflect the character that you may have come to know as Keniiiiiiiiiiii.

My sincere apologies. I promise more angriness and randomness in the articles to come. In the mean time, entertain yourself by counting the number of i's here: Keniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.

Lending money to a friend can be dangerous.

Sun, 09 Mar 2008 00:51:48 GMT

And of that, I speak empirically. This unwise practice puts both your friendship and hard-earned money at risk; so, if you must lend money to a friend, either present a contract or consider your money given away.

Today, I officially mentally erase all the debts that are owed to me. So you there, Mr. Guy-who-owes-me-$2000-and-haven't-called-me-since, you are no longer in my debt, financially speaking. This is a lesson we all learn the hard way. Then again, deep down, I know that even if time was kind enough to rewind itself to any of those fateful days, I might still lend money to those who have come to me for aid. Only this time, I'll have some papers for them to sign. Definitely.

If a needy friend wanted to borrow $2000 from you, and you happened to have $2000 lying around, how likely would it be for you to say yes?

P.S. I'm doing a photographic update tomorrow. To see how little I've progressed as a photographer, be sure to return every Sunday for arrogantly copyrighted pictures of my cat. (I'm kidding, my cat died last year.)

A night at the hospital

Tue, 04 Mar 2008 23:57:20 GMT

was the last thing I thought I'd be doing on my one day off from work for weeks to come. But there I was, sitting next to my elderly father who looked a decade older than I remembered. The reality of finally losing him seemed closer than ever, and many thoughts I've put off since his prior visit to the hospital some eight years ago came rushing back.

The hostpital is the only place on earth where you can find every human emotion cramped into one scene. The look of distress and impatience of family members; the agony on the faces of needle recipients; the joyous reunions of brothers and sisters; the look of relief; lost; grief and confusion and sympathy all around me like a theatre of hominal expressions. I could relate to some better than others, but for the most part, I was void of any expression.

So while I was there, when my dad was fast asleep, I took the time to reflect upon the shortcomings of our father-son relationship. Coming from his era, my dad valued work and success above most aspects of life. Though his explanation for not retiring at 70 was to support the family, I knew his true intentions better than himself: to retire was to rot away at home. I had always understood that myself as his eldest could not satisfy his idea of a legacy. Implicitly and mutually, thought we loved each other as father and son, we were unsatisfied with each other to some degree. At 22, without a degree, and my entrepreneurial visions seemingly shortsighted, my apparent incompetence overwhelmed my image in my father's eyes. At the same time, though I was reluctant to, a part of me blamed my father for not providing for me what I needed from him both financially and spiritually. He would continue to refuse to hand me the family business, and I would continue to refuse to forgive him. A father and son stalemate.

Perhaps we have failed each other so many times that we have come to not depend on each other. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, not noticing a teardrop running down my own cheek. In that moment in time, whether or not he depended on me, I wanted to fulfill my role. I placed my hand on his left arm, which he probably could not feel anymore, and continued reading the Nora Roberts novel in my other hand.

As most of you predicted at one point or another,

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 02:20:42 GMT

Keni returns to Xanga.

So I started working full-time again, which leaves me with no time for a real hobby; thus, I have decided to devote the 12 spare minutes I have everyday between getting off work and passing out on my bed to Xangaing. And, occasionally, hopelessly rubbing coffee stain from this patch of carpet.

The sole purpose of this entire entry is declaring my untriumphant return to blogging, so feel free to discourage me by not commenting at all. In other news, I had chicken for dinner.

The Entry to End All Entries

Wed, 09 May 2007 21:11:43 GMT

Just like how the First World War was meant to end all wars. Didn't do too good of a job!

Nonetheless, this is my quiet, non-drama queenish fairwell to Xanga and its curious inhabitants.

Perhaps one day two years from now, this monotonous entry will have whored me more eprops than Dan's 7 entries on masturbation combined. Or not (I don't want to jinx it.)

In the distant future, whatever remains of my desire to post random shit on the web shall reincarnate in the form of an artsy fartsy website at http://www.keni.ca/

In the meantime

Don't cry for me, Argenti... I mean, Xanga. You may now unsubscribe me without fear of my dog pissing on your lawn

People don't go to the beach because they don't have abs

Fri, 04 May 2007 15:27:33 GMT

Fact.

How self-conscious are you?