I was going to post this in the comments thread of the previous post per usual, but I think it's long enough to warrant making it a new post. The comments to which I am responding are from Dave -- located here -- and Nick -- located here. Once you're all caught up and stuff, you can read my responses below the cut.

Read on...

Excerpted from an AIM conversation today:

Me: man these old Boy Meets World episodes never fail to warm my heart
Person: but there's no black people... Boy Meets World doesn't get a token black character til WAAY later

And yes, that response came completely out of left field -- but wouldn't you know that not a single goddamned day goes by during which someone in my life does not say something along these lines. These people are supposed to be my friends and loved ones and so much -- so, so much -- of what comes out of their mouths or is conveyed by their fingertips causes my head to throb and my eyeballs to sting so intensely that I want to inhale carbon monoxide rather than endure the day after day after day after day after day of said pain that will inevitably follow. I don't even know why I'm posting about it here, since I don't really expect you to be able to offer any consolation or comforting words so much as I expect you to further compound my pain. All too frequently I voice my distress with a certain media development or personal incident only to be met with a non sequitur comment to the effect of "yeah, I know what you mean; if it were me, I would be embarrassed for my race too" or an equally insulting and ridiculous off-base or dismissive response, and I want to repeatedly bang my forehead against something very, very hard because oh. my. god. you. morons. just. don't. fucking. get. it. And I sincerely wonder if said parties ever could even if they lived to be 969 years old. (more...)

Man. This isn't the worst headache I've ever had, but it's certainly one of the worst in recent memory and undoubtedly the longest lasting one since my college days. Usually when a headache hits it signifies a lack of sleep, so I hit the hay, wake up after a two or three-hour nap (or the next whenever if I am due for my scheduled circadian downtime), and am fine. Tonight I lay down for roughly four hours and my head is still throbbing like mad. It makes no sense, I tell you. Argh. ARGH. And I don't have any Aspirin or Tylenol or makey headache go away drugs at my disposal. A-R-G-H.

Anyway, these are some of the gashapon figurines I picked up in Shanghai -- from left to right, Rei Ayanami, Ringo Noyamano, and Kamen Rider 2, all of whom are from media that I have never actually seen. Would you believe that these came out of vending machines? Whereas we get gumballs and rubber bouncing balls and cheap plastic spider rings and crap, kids (and adult anime enthusiasts and figure collectors!) in the East get high-quality figurines in their vending machine capsules. I totally think they need to bring gashapon to the West as well.

Okay, going to get some food and hope nutrients make the hurting stop.

First off, I've posted a new comic on Scary-Crayon that briefly relates one of my encounters on Nanjing Road. For more info about that incident (and numerous similar ones), you can also read the attached SC blog entry.

And now, more photos from Shanghai! Click to see them.

Finally, here are two additional pics I took with a certain someone in mind:

I have no idea why Nicole Kidman should make me want an overpriced watch. Speaking of Omega watches, though, a guy tried to sell me a Rolex watch, an Omega watch, and some sort of designer pen for a combined total of 20 yuan (roughly $3). Very cheap price indeed!

All for now, then. Ja!