I Don't Have Cancer...Yet

This post is a candid look into the last 16 hours of my life. Last night while innocently watching pirated films on the couch and fondling myself (as per usual routine), I came across a protruding lump on my right testicle. After I finished the movie I reexamined myself and determined that my battle-dick had been sunk and after a grueling surgery I would be an exclamation point for my waning days. Needless to say my sleep last night consisted of a mixture of flashbacks to my circumcision and purgatorial cold sweats. When I finally got out of bed I decided that a solid day of work would distract me, but everything I saw reminded me of my impending ailment (most prominent a picture of Gonzo from the Muppets cutting Kiwis). After abandoning Nick to do the day's plowing I made an appointment at a hospital and left post haste. The grueling journey there consisted of me listening to a compilation of sad sack music that would make Roberto Benigni stick his head in the oven (Elliot Smith, Radiohead, Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 'Moonlight': Adiago Sostenuto, Frank Sinatra's I Don't Like Goodbyes and Aimee Mann's "One"). When I got to the hospital I was asked to explain my ailment to series of administrative officials. None seemed to understand. Finally I was ushered into a room and an Asian doctor who spoke perfect English came in and examined me. By examine, I mean did what I do to myself on the couch. "There's definitely a lump, let's get you an ultrasound immediately." Aimee Man playing quietly in my head. After depantsing a beautiful ultrasound technician came in and began using a ray gun to spread a fun, slippery jelly KY substance over my satchel of unmentionables. After about 6 minutes I lost my nerve, "Is it cancer?" "No, not cancer." She continued to rub the ray gun with spermicidal lube over my gradually increasing Muppet, to the point where I had to proclaim, "I'm sorry, finding out I don't have cancer makes me super horny". After 20 minutes of infatuation with my hanging huevos and a lot of Kleenex the examination was finished, I repantsed and went back into the waiting room. The very cordial doctor Yuen called me into his office and closed the door. "This is going to sound a bit odd..." "Cut the formalities doc let's be family". "When's the last time you ejaculated?" I looked at my watch. "Your right tube that provides semen to your penis is swollen and basically needs to be released more regularly." "Basically what you're telling me doc is I need more relief in my life." "I'm saying that you should try to increase your sexual activity in order to minimize swelling in that area." "Can I have that as a written prescription for that?" I left with doctor’s orders (greatest remedy since African myth about dispelling AIDS), a refillable prescription of love and a new lease on life. I implore you women of the world only you can save me from myself.

Post Script: My ultrasound technician and I are going steady.

Post Post Script: Also in the news today; Pakistan destroys morale of upcoming law enforcement, 300lbs man hates old people, Afghanistan bombing kills 8 and the auto industry looks like me after a weekend in Vegas without a hotel room. Great Day.

Diseased Expert

http://edition.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/03/29/spain.madcow/index.html?iref=24hours

AMERICA!!!!

I didn't have my camera on me today (a travesty), so I was forced to take a picture with my blackberry. The picture was located in a bar called Yee-ha. Yee-ha is a bar dedicated to Houston TX, home to number one super fantastic Chinese megastar Yao Ming. In Yee-ha a dwelling structure caught and refused to release my eye's gaze. If not abudently clear, it is a wooden wall plaque shaped like the great state of Texas covered in 61(!!!!!!) different types of barb wire. Merger, Merger, Jackie Moon, AMERICA!



Post Script: I plan to go back with all 12.2 megapixels of my camera and do a Maplethrop type shoot and repost later.

Cultural Synonyms

During my first Chinese class, my Chinese teacher, who does not speak stellar English and occasionally struggles to communicate with me, commented that my Chinese was "terrible". I shrugged and continued on butchering her language; fuck her, I paid. My following and may I add SECOND lesson the teacher came to me with a compassionate look on her face. She, fictional American name Alice, apologized to me. She said "I misspoke last class. I used wrong word. I said your Chinese terrible this is the wrong word." Finally an apology, which was greatly due to me was forthcoming. Fictional name Alice continued; "I am sorry for misunderstanding, I meant your Chinese is horrible." A sigh of relief came over me and I continued to butcher her language, then I fucking paid her.

Post Moved

Post Moved

Shanghai Shamrock

Fear Comes in Jug Form at 80 Cents a Pop

Nick is Both my Roommate and my Umbilical Cord

Sanctuary

If any people understand excessive drinking its the Chinese. Seriously they ingest 5 yuan (about 80 cents) jugs of fire water called baijiu that makes you blind. But given that I'm relatively sure my liver is Irish, I was not going to be outdone on St. Patrick's Day. Nick (Oh, I haven't introduced you to Nick yet, where are my manners?) and I left our apartment looking for challengers only to find that we were being gawked at more than usual. It seemed my Chinese comrades were unaware of this glorious holiday and were amused by the two white devils doing their best Barney Gumble impressions. Eventually we were able to find solace at Xian O'Mally's (Chinese/Irish Pub). They were submerging shots of Jameson and Baileys into Glasses of Guinness for $3 dollars a piece. It was as civilized an evening as I've ever had.

Found a Seat on the Subway Today

It was my greatest accomplishment to date.

CHALLENGE

I, Jesse White, hereby challenge the Fear Monger. The retired blogger is too busy dulling the senses of the masses (He is currently writing a SITCOM entitled: Married With Fart Jokes) to engage in civilized battle with his intellectual better. Good day sir.


P.S. I do look forward to seeing MWFJ on the CW's mid-day Summer line-up.

In China the Chinese are the Mexicans

Everybody who works in China is Chinese. These Chinese workers are part of an ongoing observation I’ve made in my two weeks here. The cab drivers are Chinese. The people who operate the convenience stores are Chinese. The housekeepers are Chinese. Chefs in Chinese restaurants are Chinese; even the busboys are Chinese. As an American this perplexes me. Where are the different ethnicities from poorer socioeconomic backgrounds? Now that the Chinese basically own America why are the Chinese still doing their own work? See that’s how you know America has made it, we don’t do any of our own work. Americans are too important to engage in remedial tasks like cooking and cleaning. The day-to-day operations are so mundane we are better off outsourcing within the country. Long term this turned out to be an intelligent maneuver because Americans developed a new set of skills, selling invisible products and counting invisible money. So my advice to the newly crowned Chinese superpower is sit back, relax and let Africa clean up your mess.

Blog Title

Since I've been in Shanghai over a week without internet, I've been journaling my adventures free hand. When it came to my first official post I already had an array of anecdotes I wished to broadcast, but decided I should start with the blog's name. A few days after arriving in Shanghai, I needed to purchase a local cell phone. I, being ignorant to the practices of Chinese telecommunications, came unprepared without a passport. When I inquired if my IL State ID card would sufice, they looked at me confused and took the card. They spoke ZERO English and our conversation mostly consisted of me making obscene hand gestures until they gave me a registered SIM card and a bill. On the registration form, they had listed my name as Jesse White (for our non-IL readers Jesse White is both an acrobatics enthusiast and the IL Secretary of State). I did nothing to protest this and am now living in China under the alias Jesse White. I will be assembling my tumblers in the coming days.