Oh Ngo…

On a hot, steamy “Facebook Fight” kind of Friday afternoon, the events of the day triggered a surreal moment of self-awareness, although I didn’t realize it right away.

The Scene:

I was stirring the pot, as is my usual routine.  Well, actually, the whole ‘Friday’ thing is new since I only recently decided to limit my self-indulgent, adversarial behavior to Fridays for two reasons:  (1.) my love of alliteration and ‘themed’ days; and (2.) my fear of becoming a cyber-bully who limits the flow of ideas by creating a hostile environment–which actually reduces the likelihood of anyone posting anything moronic, which is counter-productive…

In the spirit of full disclosure, here is the article and conversation snippet that spurred me into a sudden, spooky state of self-reflection.

*cue ominous overtones*

“I was looking back at some old stuff I wrote a couple years ago…embarrassing…“

-The Ghost of Googles Past, through the medium of  J-Mac’s Facebook account…

Internal monologue:

ha, old stuff..omg i bet it’d be funny to read them ooh, i should look back at my older posts, oh wait, i wonder what comes up on google oh that’s weird, why is the girls gone wild vs. jesus image coming up?

i guess the image title makes it searchable?…page 2.

OH NO.

whaaa?  Don’s?  are you f*cking kidding me?  how many places did i post this review??!!  i swear to freaking christ that i deleted all of them, what the mother fuck?  who all has seen this?  where is it pulling up from?  i have to change all my shit.

uggggh…imperious condescend-TATOR in training…

fucking A i sound like an a-hole.

Time to pay the piper.

*cue drum roll*…

Notes to My 2 Years Ago Self:

An Illustration of Self-Deprecation and Scathing Criticism of a Younger, Dumber Me.

Noodle it, Just a little bit:

There is nothing worse than being on the receiving end of a condescension stick, especially an imperious one.

Oh Google, you son of a B.  Why must you bring up old shit?

Lesson learned,

xoxo- kris “still kinda young, definitely still dumb” ngo
Unrelated:  Alliteration capacitator is FULL.

I would talk to a cold, brick wall for 3 days straight if it could name me two redeeming qualities of anyone who drinks soy

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So, my problem with these illegal-loving hippies, is what they fail to see. It’s not the skin color, or the nationality; it’s the principle.

It is illegal to be in any country without identification. For instance: if JUSTIN (sorry you’re whiter than me…) Went to England…and was standing on the corner “looking for work” OR more realistically, at the hospital about to give birth, with no insurance, no identification and no money, they’d ask him for his ID, pick up on the fact that he’s a Yank and get Obama on the phone to come get his mooch a$$ out of their country.

And THEN, even better, Hollywood would want to film a reality show about him!! And he’d be filthy rich off of the idiocy of Middle America, just like the rest of the worthless dbags on TV.

The new American Dream: Average. Because hey, if you can’t hang with them, drag ’em

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Another night, another bar tab. I have been making myself go out at least once a week.
Now, climb down from your high horse, this is only because recently, I have gone for 2-3 days per week…without seeing the mother fucking SUN, let alone my friends. I have had the following post written for months. Actually, if you were in my “Team K” mail distribution list, then this is no news to you, but make sure and bear witness to my awesome photoshop skills and go about the rest of your day (hopefully plotting a

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The reason I feel comfortable saying that I do in fact “hate” techno and that I don’t in fact feel that I am at risk of being categorized with people who hate anything that mighta come from anywhere further than the 3rd branch of their family fucking tree– is because I actually DID listen to techno for a significant period of time. You know, during the ‘transitional period’ when you’re over 18 but under

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