Some Fun

Here are some pictures from a couple of weeks ago.  We were at John's house, apparently doing nothing but acting stupid: 
 
 

I don't know what Stuart was doing here; I think he had a high fever with an acute case of idiot, and thus the forehead contact and retard-expression. 


 

I, being the normal person that I am, was playing an F chord on the guitar. Ben, on the other hand, was pretending to kill space zombies through his "virtual-reality module," which was actually a pair of ear muffs.


 

Do I even need to explain this one?  Lovely, isn't it...?  
 
And, just to prove that I really have fried my brain cells: 



This is Stuart without his medication. 

That's enough mayhem for today.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go study for the test I'm going to inevitably fail.  So long. 

Morbid Mad Man Decapitates Harry Potter

Either I'm terribly troubled by some unknown force, or I'm just crazy. I'm going to put my friend, Andrew, on the spot light while I tell my sad, sad tale. Or is it his sad tale?

I was situated at the corner of Temple City and Lemon, strutting south toward the little green man without a face. John was with me, and we'd just come from summer school.

"KEVIN HUYNH!"

I looked to my right and saw Andrew's head peeking out of his car, smiling. He always does that, I thought. I grinned widely for no apparent reason. Then my heart nearly skipped a beat, or maybe it did, how can you tell?: A larger than normal sized truck came skidding past, which sprayed water from the puddle that was not there, made from the rain that didn't exist.

When the truck finally past by, the only thing on the road was Andrew's head. It was rolling on the floor with that same happy expression, it was still smiling. It would have been less horrible without the crimson red blood dripping from his "decapitated" head, unfortunately, the blood was there, and at the next moment I was at his furneral.

Strange, the casket was open, and Andrew's body was in a suit. He was wearing a silky black jacket with a nice white dress shirt. His head was still missing, and even more strange, his neck was bare; no bandages.

(The picture above was taken from Eric's blog. He doesn't know yet, so don't tell him!)

I arrived home and headed for my room. When I opened the door, I recieved the shock of my subconscious life. There, right on my bed, lay a fish bowl with Andrew's head in it.

Still f-ing smiling.

In an attempt to save my dignity, I will say that anything Andrew does ends up, in one way or another, making me laugh. So it's no surprise that when I woke up from the dream, I was not screaming in horror, but laughing hysterically.

But you must think, Why, Kevin is a mad man!

Indeed, I am. Maybe even, a morbid mad man. Is that an alliteration? Kevin, the alliterating morbid mad man.

Okay, anyway, that's enough fame for Andrew. Don't want to spoil his mind; the whole world will know his name. He's far better off away from those things. There, there, Ben, after all, it's not really good bye. He'll be at Hogwarts soon enough. Good bye, Harry Potter--the boy who lived!

War of the Pigeons

Today is actually the 7th. But I put the entry date back to the forth because I hate you.

It was not the usual alarm clock that woke me. Why the beep-beep-beep didn't go off at 7 o' clock sharp, I still am not sure. Perhaps it has formed a mind of it's own; a cynical one at that. But its "efforts" (if a hypothetical alarm clock-mind has efforts at all) were in vain.

For I was awakened by pigeons.

In my room, I have two windows; one big, and one very small one. The more larger of the two is facing south and my bed is located directly beneath it. Now, Saturday night turned out to be quite hot, so the AC was running. But at about 1pm, my dad turned it off and said it was because he wanted to save electricity. Like America is in need of power saving anyway. So I opened my window and let the cool breeze in.

"Coo-Coo-Cooooo," was the first thing I heard Sunday morning. But you know when you're half asleep and you don't really know what's going on? Yeah, that was me. I invented that feeling. So I went back to sleep because my alarm hadn't gone off, naturally I thought it was still before 7.

It's funny how friendly little pigeons can suddenly turn you into a rampaging psycho. They could've stopped making that noise. They could've flew away from my window ledge. They could've fell off my window ledge. But no, they relentlessly pushed on. And on. And on.

Screw it, I thought. Getting up earlier wouldn't harm anyone. It couldn't be to far away from 7 o' clock anyway.

I checked my clock, and it read 9:15 am. The numbers seemed more lively today; like they were taunting me. Laughing at my folly, laughing because I wasn't going to make it. And it was then, I felt a sense of determination and conviction; I was going to make it.

Wierd, it was just church.

I managed to get there in time for Sunday services. We sang a couple of songs, and heard some prayers; particularily David Chui's (John's older brother). He talked about other countries and let his heart pour out. It made alot of people weep. But don't get the idea that I cried. Shut up.

After that, we had bible study (Book of John) then lunch, you know, the usual deal. Then my dad took me to Barnes and Noble because he wanted to get this book, Guns, Germs, and Steel, which is something his co-workers have been raving about. He ended up also purchasing Bill Clinton's My Life. I doubt he's ever going to read it, though. And lastly, he talked to me about my doing nothing productive except playing guitar and sleeping. So, he got Michael Behe's Darwin's Black Box for me (a yucky science book, the biochemical challenge to evolution to be exact).

Okay, moving on. I came home to sleep and get ready for fireworks later. I ended playing PS2's True Crime. At 4pm I went to Stuart's house and waited for people to come over. Let me tell you, the worst decision you can make in your life is to enter Stuart's room...with him in there (that is, without a safety buddy to call 911).

Ben wasn't coming for another hour, so I had no choice. We started playing a little guitar here and there, then he got bored. So I moved to his desk chair, and let him sleep on his bed. After awhile my stomach roared with hunger; maybe because I digest faster while being held captive.

I told him I was hungry and that we should go to Carl's to get a bite to eat. He said, "Okay, give me a hand up." I willingly obeyed. I pulled him up on his back and started to pack my guitar.

Then he fell back down.

At least six times I had to prop him up. On the last time I stayed behind him to hold him there. Dammit, he's freaking heavy. I gave up and retreated back to the much safer chair.

I never thought he would start to throw things at me. But I'm naïve, so my thoughts don't count. First line of fire was his guitar case. It wounded my eye, and one of my contacts fell out. Suck it up, Kevin. I took shelter behind a book shelf and returned fire.

I was hurt, but I wasn't down. Years of training had prepared me for this and through out the battle I kept in mind what my commander once told me: "Always expect the unexpected from Stuart." I let my guard down in the beginning; I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Then my stupidity caught up to me. I was right under the damned door knob! I manuevered my way out of the door and left the battle grounds for good. I was on his territory, he had an advantage; leaving was the only wise thing I could do.

Then his mom made fried rice for the both of us and we sat outside to eat. The mindless chatter of the TV was on, and it set the mood of good karma. But this time, my guard was up, I was thinking clearly. Somehow, I knew he was plotting against me. Even as I was chewing down on the rice, I knew.

Rice, as it had been known to do, has a way of stealing your thoughts and transferring them to some other bowl of rice. For today, it was my intelligence officer. I don't think Stuart knew how to harness the powers of the grain of rice, so now, the tides have changed and I was swimming in my own bathtub again.

Oh, if Ben hadn't knocked on the door that instant, Stuart would not have lived.

Well, I've been going on and on, so I'll try summarizing. We went to buy fireworks, lit them, and then I went home. Stuart tied a smoke bomb at the end of my bike and told me to ride it. Awesome. Eric came later with his brother and a whole bag of fireworks.

That's basically, well maybe I'm 1300 hundred words too late for basically but whatever, it.

It's wierd, I've been getting déjà vu alot lately. Maybe it's because of my growing up, memories tend to stack on each other, and therefore repeat. I'm not certain. But I'm always uneasy when it happens; you never know if Stuart might be lurking behind a corner laughing with his new creation of déjà vu zoo.

"Sir, Does Evil Exist?"

This morning, Eric passed on a story to me. It talks about the age old dispute between atheists and theists on "Does Evil Exist?";

The professor of a university challenged his students with this question: "Did God create everything that exists?"

A student answered bravely, "Yes, he did."

The professor then asked, "If God created everything, then he created evil."

Since evil exists (as noticed by our own actions), so God is evil. The student couldn't respond to that statement causing the professor to conclude that he had "proved" that "belief in God" was a fairy tale, and therefore worthless.

Another student raised his hand and asked the professor, "May I pose a question?"

"Of course," answered the professor.

The young student stood up and asked: "Professor does Cold exists?"

The professor answered, "What kind of question is that?...Of course the cold exists... haven't you ever been cold?"

The young student answered, "In fact sir, Cold does not exist. According to the laws of Physics, what we consider cold, in fact is the absence of heat. Anything is able to be studied as long as it transmits energy (heat). Absolute Zero is the total absence of heat, but cold does not exist. What we have done is create a term to describe how we feel if we don't have body heat or we are not hot."

"And, does Dark exist?", he continued. The professor answered "Of course". This time the student responded, "Again you're wrong, Sir. Darkness does not exist either. Darkness is in fact simply the absence of light. Light can be studied, darkness can not. Darkness cannot be broken down. A simple ray of light tears the darkness and illuminates the surface where the light beam finishes. Dark is a term that we humans have created to describe what happens when there's lack of light."

Finally, the student asked the professor, "Sir, does evil exist?" The professor replied, "Of course it exists, as I mentioned at the beginning, we see violations, crimes and violence anywhere in the world, and those things are evil."

The student responded, "Sir, Evil does not exist. Just as in the previous cases, Evil is a term which man has created to describe the result of the absence of God's presence in the hearts of man."

After this, the professor bowed down his head, and didn't answer back.

Some people have said that the boy was Albert Einstein. No one knows for sure.