ROCKET LAUNCHING CONDOMS OUT WINDOWS AND OTHER PAST EVENTS

I believe the last time we spoke…I, the ubiquitous dirty foreigner skank, had slept with my neighbor and subsequently rocket launched a used condom out the window which landed conveniently on the back of my landlord’s neck, infuriating him so that he reported my ass to Maple Bear and thus tainting my pristine reputation. Subsequently, the landlord ordered me to leave his mighty fine housing establishment, nestled comfortably in a forest of seedy love motels and accompanying blinking neon lights beaconing and attracting horny teenagers, drunken ajusshis, rats and other kinds of filth of that proportion. The dismal though of being forced out of my place and into the spit-laden streets of Korea had left me in a dour mood for many a good weeks, as you may remember. Might I remind you, this all took place 2 days later, after getting my keys, coat, money, cards, cellphone and expensive designer paraphernalia from Jason Chan stolen in Hongdae by some foreigner bitch whom I hope has now long been incinerated by “mes yeux croches fatales”.


Thanks to my ingenious plot, this apartment fiasco had long been rectified, since my landlord was so smitten by the charismatic ways of my Korean fiancé (officially turned husband on March 1st). Alas, I sold my wifely goodness to the one and only Jang Won Jun and the Jang family household in exchange for the promise that I can keep my dirty but beloved humble abode. I walked into my landlord’s office hand-in-hand with Won Jun Oppa looking like the happy Korean fairytale dream couple that I yearn to be. I asked my landlord straight up if he thinks it’s reasonable for me to openly cheat with another man (my Englishman brother from another mother at that!!) and risk the prospect of my huge Korean mafia lookalike of a fiance wifebeating the shit out of me. Being the conservative macho wife-beating Korean ajusshi that the landlord is...it worked! (flashing Oppa’s impressive business card didn’t hurt either). Now if I can only get Oppa’s mommy dearest to back off with regards to the baby making, then I’m good as good gets!


(Did I leave out the insignificant detail that mere minutes after leaving my landlord’s office and getting behind the wheel of his car, Oppa started sobbing uncontrollably and hitting his head against the steering wheel at the prospect of getting married to me –---she who cannot sew her own clothes, nor cook a meal, nor use the washing machine, nor plunge her own toilet and who constantly resorts to her male friends to do so for her? Hmm. I guess Oppa did kind of play out as martyr in this dilemma. Not trying to sound too much like a L’Oreal commercial here but in all honesty…I’M WORTH IT!!!

MOTHERFUCKING BIKE STEALERS AND SHOPPING PAPER CUTS!!!

Unfortunately, just when I was preparing to clear the pile of shit off my lap, pick up the remaining pieces from my shattered past and start anew, some presumably Korean motherfucker had to rip my new 1 month old bike from its parking space outside my school yesterday and ride off with it into the Yellow Dust shrouded sunset (albeit the horizon dotted by pretty cherry blossoms in full bloom). I trust that you will have a nice little surprise with oncoming traffic in the upcoming week, because GOD FORBID you have forced Andrea Suemen Lee to recommence her morning sprinting-to-school-like-a-motherfcuker routine once again. I am L-I-V-I-D. Ironically, I found condolence in my Notorious Bike Stealer Korean friend, who offered to pass me one of his many bikes that he had freely helped himself to from the nearest bicycle parking kiosk whenever the“I-drank-too-much-soju-and-need-a-quick-drunken-joyride-home” mood struck. Seeing how morally upright I am, I will accept the offer and fuel the bicycle stealing cycle from which I rose a victim.


As if the shit’s not hitting the fan as is, it seems like I’ve somehow managed to incur an apparent paper cut while on another one of my rabid pre-leaving-Korea shopping excursions. Slashed and bleeding finger by way of a clothing hanger. What. The. Fuck.


PISS SOAKED PURSES AND INCESTUAL HOMOPHILIC KOREAN BOYS :


It’s amusing hearing about someone dropping their purse into a public toilet of their own piss….until it happens to you. Dearest friends, if I saw you on Saturday night and you were too drunk too notice that I was affectionately rubbing a moist purse all over your body...I hope you did your laundry by now. (unless you love me that much that you don’t mind having a bit of Dre DNA seeped in (lovingly) and clinging on to the threads of your clothes. Teehee.)


There’s something very off-putting about two young Korean brothers sticking their tongues down each others throats while looking lewdly at you in anticipation for your reaction. It’s actually quite refreshing to see that their young minds have yet to be tainted by Korean mommy and daddy’s collective lessons on pro-homophobia, anti-incestual relations and anti-firing up the foreigner teacher’s pedophilic tendencies.


And now I will bid you adieu.