Friday, June 29, 2007

Catfeesh!!


I had a similar problem recently, when I tried to test the limits of Benihana's "All-You-Can-Eat Sushi" special. All I can eat?!?! We'll see about that!!

Turns out they were right - they knew my limits better than me...

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Virtue Soup For President!!

From Yahoo!

BOSTON - Mitt Romney's been called many things as he runs for president, but chances are "Sticky Rice" isn't one of them.

That's how his name might be read on some ballots, according to state Secretary William Galvin.

Galvin says the federal Justice Department is pressuring Boston election officials to translate candidates' names into Chinese characters in precincts with prominent Chinese-speaking populations.

But there's more than a little lost in translation, according to Galvin.

Since there's no Chinese character for "Romney," translators have resorted to finding characters that most closely match the sound of each syllable in the name.

The problem is that there are many different characters that could be used to match the sound of each syllable, and many different meanings for each character.

So Mitt Romney could be read as "Sticky Rice" or "Uncooked Rice." Fred Thompson might be read as "Virtue Soup." And Barack Obama could be read as "Oh Bus Horse."

Galvin's own name could be read at least two different ways, as "High Prominent Noble Educated" or "Stick Mosquito."

But perhaps the most perplexing translation would be for Boston Mayor Thomas Menino's name, which could be read as "Sun Moon Rainbow Farmer" or "Imbecile," or "Barbarian Mud No Mind of His Own."

"To try to make rhymes or approximations in Chinese, you can have unintended negative meanings," Galvin said. "It leads to confusion. You can render it with a good meaning or a bad meaning."

To add to the confusion, Galvin said, the ballots have to be offered in two major Chinese dialects, Mandarin and Cantonese, leading to even more potential variations of candidates's names.

But advocates for minority voting rights say Galvin's objections are misdirected. If the translations are awkward, they say, the candidates should be free to offer variations, or look to the way Asian language newspapers already transliterate their names.

"We are looking to make sure Asian Americans are able to vote for their candidates of choice," Glenn Magpantay, staff attorney of the New York-based Asian American Defense Fund, told the Boston Globe. "This is difficult to do when voters with limited English proficiency cannot find those candidates."

Cynthia Magnuson, spokeswoman to the Justice Department's civil rights division, said a system is needed to let voters with limited English vote without the aid of election monitors.

"This will allow them to vote independently," she said.

Galvin said he supports translating the bulk of the ballots into Chinese as required by a 2005 agreement with the justice department, as long as the names of the candidates' names remain in Roman letters.

P.S. When I was in China, my name in Chinese was Zhang Yadan, which, roughly translated, meant The Disgruntled Investor. What a coinkydink!

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Better than Talladega Nights, anyway...

Will Ferrell can be kind of hit (Anchorman, Stranger Than Fiction) or miss (Talladega Nights), but overall he's pretty hilarious. Anyway, he's launched his own YouTube type of website, www.funnyordie.com, which is a great way to waste a couple of hours of your work day.

Here's its most famous video, "The Landlord." It pissed off O'Reilly good, reportedly. Check out the follow-up, "Good Cop, Baby Cop" which is funny, too. I want my kid to be just like Pearl...bitch.

The Landlord

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Ladies, ladies, pleaaase, there's plenty Disgruntled to go around for everyone!

I was having dinner the other day with a Disgruntled Vegetarian Friend of mine (disgruntled, no doubt, due to the vegetarianism), when we got to talking about this site, and, more specifically, about my T-shirts That No One Is Buying.

Pointing out my large female readership (3 girls to 2 guys means a female majority), she wondered aloud about my lack of female-friendly products.

"You know, I've been meaning to do something about that, but haven't really been motivated due to the lack of sales," I dryly noted.

"Well, I bet if you created a Disgruntled Girlfriend shirt, that would pick things up," the Disgruntled Vegetarian noted, "there are a lot of those out there."

"There are a lot of Disgruntled Girlfriend shirts out there?" I asked.

"No moron, a lot of disgruntled girlfriends. They are probably disgruntled due to their lack of Disgruntled Girlfriend t-shirts," the DV said.

"Well, you may have a point there...but will the t-shirts alone do it, you think?"

"Maybe," she replied, "especially if they came in multiple colors. But they'd really only be able to express their disgruntledness up top...they wouldn't really be able to show how they feel during intimate encounters."

"Hmmm...I think I might have an idea...or two..." I said, stroking my now non-existent beard.


By the way, thanks to the recently identified Blogadier General for his shout-out!

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Viet Dong, Number One!


As an update to my previous post, it turns out the other "hot currency" speculators are buying is the Vietnamese currency, the hilariously named dong. Investing in the dong seems a much safer investment than the dinar, as the Vietnamese economy is strong and attracting a lot of foreign investment (especially from the US, we love us some dong!). Additionally, there is a lot of worldwide pressure on the Vietnamese to revalue their currency to make it more in line with market realities, similar to the pressure on China. Seems everyone wants a piece of the dong, but only at the right price!

But, the best part about following the movement of the dong (besides being able to say 'movement of the dong') is the ability to have actual quotes like this: (from Bloomberg)

"The dong's weakness since mid-May was an attempt by the central bank to move the currency back to the center of its policy band, Hui wrote in a note to clients today. `Now that intra-band reposition has largely been completed, entry into long dong positions is more favorable.'

Asked to comment, a local Vietnamese economist said, "But, our dong is...so small!"

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Any Way You Want It

Just read this excellent article/interview with David Chase today about the last Sopranos episode. Anyway, check it out, I think it's the best thing I've read yet about the ending and whatnot.

By the way, I've had "Don't Stop Believing" going through my head constantly for the past two days. It's causing me to lose sleep! Stupid Journey.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Don't Stop Believing

At approximately 10:02 PM last night, I stood up and cursed my TV, convinced that my stupid Comcast cable had cut out right as Tony Soprano was about to be whacked or the diner he and his family were in was about to be blown up. My little brother, who was over watching the Sopranos finale along with one of my tenants, had gotten up in the middle of the show to use the bathroom, and I had reluctantly relented in pausing the show while he did his business. As the DVR struggled with the rewind, I thanked him for possibly contributing to the cable's malfunction.

However, after rewinding and rewatching three times, it suddenly hit us - the abrupt and awkward cut to black was the actual ending of The Sopranos long-running series. It was very Andy Kauffman-esque; no doubt every other viewer had the same reaction as I did and thought their cable was broken at the worst possible moment.

My two fellow Sopranos watchers cursed at the TV, for a different reason this time, and left, utterly disappointed with the series ending.

I, however, thought it was great. Well, maybe not great, but not bad.

There was absolutely no way that David Chase could have ended this series without making some segment of his fans disgruntled. Tony's death would have felt forced and non-cathartic. Tony flipping and being Witness-Protected out to Arizona would have been a blatant Goodfellas ripoff. Tony losing those closest to him (Carmela, AJ, Meadow) would have left everyone with a bad feeling, and probably would have preceded one of the aforementioned subpar endings. A terrorist attack (which was my prediction for the finale, given the incessant hints dropped this season) would have been, frankly, stupid. And finally, Paulie selling Tony out would have been unrealistic, since Tony Sirico's contract specifically forbids that outcome.

So, in the end, although he did throw his viewers a major bone (Phil Leotardo's excellently gruesome death), he ended it the only way he could - by saying to all of us: "Use your imagination." It was his way of letting everyone have the ending that we feel is most appropriate for the characters we've followed for eight years.

Among the possibilities:
1.) One of the shady characters in the diner (by the way, most tense five minutes of television I've ever watched) offs Tony, his family, or everyone in the diner;
2.) Carlo rats Tony out, and he is indicted on his gun charge;
3.) Carmela gets breast cancer (I'm telling you - this was heavily alluded to early this season...);
4.) Meadow learns how to park a goddamn car (probably the most remote possibility);
5.) Tony flips and moves to Arizona;
6.) Nothing. Nothing happens at all. Things just continue on as they were, with all of the normal daily challenges and surprises.

Think of it as a Choose Your Own Adventure ending. It was the only way Chase could have ended the series without it being corny, stupid, or unrealistic. Ultimately, it was the best way to go out.

It was the only way to end a great season, and a great series. Arguably the best television show ever produced.

Now go get me some gobbagool...

-Here's the funniest thing Mad TV has ever put out:

Friday, June 8, 2007

Ode To Beard


Since around mid-February, the Disgruntled Investor has been sporting a full beard. Not like a Grizzly Adams beard, and nothing anywhere near as cool as the guy above, but a beard nonetheless.

I have mixed feelings on the beard, but no matter how hard I try, I can't bring myself to shave it off. It looks pretty good, and makes me look my age, rather than like a 12 year old boy, which is how I look without it. I actually grew the beard originally for that very reason; when I showed rooms to potential renters they always looked at me strangely, and usually asked: "So...you're the owner of the house??" I sensed a lack of respect and confidence in my landlording abilities, so I grew the beard. Immediately, I was able to rent out all of my rooms, and the rents started coming in on time, if not early. With the beard came the respect.

Another positive aspect of the beard is that the Disgruntled Girlfriend loves it. Can't get enough of it. I would think that kissing someone with a beard would be weird, like making out with a Sasquatch, but apparently the ladies like it. She's been a very vocal defender of the beard, which may have played a part in my continued beard-having. Most likely, she now doesn't feel like she's breaking any statutory laws by kissing me.

I keep mine pretty closely cropped, which requires a 10-15 minute "grooming session" every few days. It's not as thin and cropped as A.J. Soprano's "chin-strap" beard (which I'm not a big fan of), but there's no danger of birds nesting in it either. On those days that I'm not grooming, I just do a quick swipe of the electric razor around my cheek (to avoid the cheek-beard) and lower neck (to avoid the neck-beard), and overall that probably saves me about 5 minutes or so in the morning.

So, I'll probably keep it for a while longer, but probably not indefinitely. I spent a few months in Shanghai in the summer of 2002, and while there I grew my beard out as part of a pact with a buddy of mine (he didn't keep his side of the bargain - he claimed he was unable to grow his...). Anyway, one thing about Shanghai in the summer is it is one of the hottest and most humid places on Earth. We would play pick-up basketball games with some of the Chinese guys around the university we were staying at, and afterwards, I would furiously scratch my beard like a crack addict due to the sweat irritating my under-beard skin. Needless to say, I didn't keep that beard for too long, and I worry that Washington, DC's summer, which is not too different from Shanghai's, might cause me to do the same.

But for now, all hail the beard!

By the way, the picture above is from the World Beard and Moustache Championships. The link is for the United States WBMC team. Definitely check it out if you've got nothing to do - the gallery is one of the greatest things I've ever seen.

-Disgruntled A

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

In The Ghetto...

Wusup bitches!

Having lived in or near the Washington, DC area for about 12 years now, I've become quite aware of where not to go in the city at night - namely, New York Avenue and the SE/Anacostia area. Matter of fact, I wouldn't even go into Anacostia during the day if I could help it.

For those outside this area, SE/Anacostia is near where they are building the new Nationals baseball stadium, which should ultimately lead to a gentrification/cleaning up of the area to make it more tourist/$$$ friendly. I remember visiting the Chinatown area of DC back in the early 90's, and being absolutely terrified for my life the entire time. It was a really rough area, with drug deals openly going down in broad daylight as the police watched, uninterested. Now, thanks to the MCI/Verizon Center, Chinatown is one of the trendiest and safest areas in DC. Crazy.

Anyway, I've had two experiences, both accidental, in SE/Anacostia, both at nighttime. Both times involved thinking I was going somewhere else, and somehow finding myself deep in the poorly lit, highly dangerous ghetto.

The first time I had the pleasure of seeing the mean streets of DC a friend and I were heading up into DC to see Less Than Jake play at the 9:30 Club. I was 17 at the time, and this was my first time driving into DC. This was the early days of Mapquest, before they got at least some of the bugs worked out, and the directions were piss poor awful. My friend's little sister (who was about 14 or so) and her friend were in the backseat of my 1983 Toyota Tercel hatchback (I really had to fight off the ladies when I rolled up in that beauty...), and being big ska kids at the time, we were pretty stoked for the show. Mapquest glibly told us to take the exit off of 395 North that put us directly on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.

(Quick word of advice: MLK, Jr. was a great man, and did a lot of good in this country. Unfortunately America's cities seem to name their most dangerous streets after him. I'd stay off of them if I were you.)

As we stared, wide-eyed and trembling, at the scene around us, we realized we were in the ghetto. Like Dr. Dre Compton ghetto. Drug deals were going down around us, guns were being openly displayed, and four skinny white kids from the suburbs in a shitty hatchback stuck out like...well...four skinny white kids from the suburbs in a shitty hatchback. Unfortunately, we couldn't figure out how to get off of this road. It's like we had entered an urban trap, and were doomed to spend the rest of the night fighting for survival. I got my Gat ready...

...until we saw V Street! The 9:30 Club is on the corner of 9th and V Streets, and Mapquest turned to me as if to say, "I told you so..." I rolled my eyes, and turned up the street, where we were immediately greeted with a blinding police spotlight shined on my car. Naivety in tow, I pulled up next to the cop thinking, hey, he can give us directions, right?

The cop came up to my window, and I preempted the conversation by telling him that we were lost, and just trying to get to the 9:30 Club. He wrinkled his brow and asked for my ID. Not thinking anything of it, I complied, and he noted that Fredericksburg, VA (where this trip began) was a long way away from where we now were. I chuckled and agreed. He asked me to get out of the car (to give me directions??). At about this time I noticed that a second squad car had pulled up in back of my car, and I was completely blocked in. The cop in the other car had gotten out and was shining a flashlight into my vehicle, which I thought was strange. Still, though, I didn't think anything was that unusual. It was the ghetto after all, and they were surely only trying to protect us.

My cop started saying how strange it was that we would end up here, on this street of all places, since it was the largest narcotics zone in DC. Hmm, I thought, that is strange, but when am I getting my directions. Then, my cop busts out this gem:

"Do you have any marijuana or weapons in your vehicle?"

It was about this time that I noticed that the other cop had gotten my friend out of the car and had slammed him up against the Tercel, patting him up and down in a blatant violation of his rights. I told my cop that of course I don't have anything in my car. He responded by asking where we had picked up the two girls in the backseat, and began to imply that we were major narcotics dealers. This was starting to go south rather quickly.

My cop snatched our ID's and went back to his squad car to look up our obviously long and illustrious criminal histories, while my friend seethed on the curb. I was starting to get irritated, not least of which because the show was starting. When my cop came back, clearly aware that he had made a mistake with us, the other cop had been going through my car (without my permission, I might add) and found a cigar I had in there. He picked it up, and my cop snidely asked, "Oh, so what, are you a connoisseur?" I gave him a smart-ass response, and he gave our ID's back.

"OK, here's what I'm going to do for you guys," he started, "Right now we don't have enough evidence to bring you in, so I'm going to let you go this time. But if we see you in this area again, that will be evidence enough to prosecute!"

As we looked incredulously at each other, he continued.

"You know, this used to be the largest narcotics zone in DC, but we're cracking down now, so be sure to tell all your friends!"

At this, my friend busted out laughing. It was a pretty stupid thing to say, and the cop looked sheepishly away. He wrote out directions to the club for us, and we sped off. Needless to say, we didn't enjoy the concert all that much. It took a couple years for my anger at DC to subside enough for me to even go back into the city.

The second time I ended up in Anacostia was when I offered to give two people a ride whose car had broken down outside my gym in Arlington. They said their house was right up the road, and pointed in back of the gym. What they meant was, right up the interstate, and into Anacostia, at 9PM, on a hot summer night. Summer in DC is kind of a festival time for crime. Sometimes I really can be a moron. Luckily I escaped that situation unscathed as well, but it reminds me of what Dave Chappelle says, that it's worse to be brought to the ghetto when you're not expecting it.

Anyway, here's Chappelle's ghetto bit from his DC show on HBO a couple years ago. Enjoy!

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

!!!!!!!!!



Question: Why do Japanese and Chinese TV stations always subtitle themselves??
Answer: Even they don't understand their goddamn language!!!

P.S. Here's the link to the story about the robot baby.

UPDATE: Robots are Democrats?!?!?!

Monday, June 4, 2007

No, really...



Over the years, many people, especially the Disgruntled Girlfriend, have accused me of hyperbole - overusing phrases like "the best ever", "the biggest ever", "the worst ever", or "the worst smelling ever". To be fair, this is somewhat true. I'm a very instant reaction kind of guy, so I tend to overemphasize how I feel about things.

However, from the very beginning, I have not exaggerated, hyperbolized, or made up anything in this blog. Every single thing I've written about that's happened to me in the course of being a real estate investor/slumlord is 100% true.

Along those lines, I wanted to post the picture above, which is sort of a corollary to what I wrote a few posts back about the leak in the roof. The scene above is what happened about 10 minutes after the plumber left the morning after the leak started. I was examining one of the larger cracks with a flashlight, when CRASH!!! A 4 ft x 4 ft section of the ceiling collapses onto the floor in front of me. My tenant helped make the situation better by pointing out that a contractor is going to charge me like $1000 to fix that.

LUCKILY, the leak was just a caulking issue (now fixed) and the hole was repaired for a grand total of $60 ($50 for material and $10 for lunch for my contractor friend Kyle, who helped me fix it). Take that karma!!!

JUST KIDDING, JUST KIDDING, PLEASE DON'T BURN DOWN THE HOUSE!!

Sunday, June 3, 2007

The Disgruntled Investor Sells Out!




Just kidding - there's plenty of merchandise available!!

So, the "big news" is out - I now have t-shirts available for purchase!

...(cough)...

Seriously though, check out my Disgruntled Shop. Right now I've got two basic designs (as you can see above), but I'm planning on adding more as often as possible. Some designs will refer to posts I've made before. Some may refer to other random things I think are funny.

"Well, Disgruntled Investor, t-shirts are great and all, and I will surely purchase 10 of each design, but what about coffee mugs, beer steins, mousepads, and bumper stickers?? And what about clothing for my dog??"

Oh, don't worry, we've got you covered.

Come visit The Disgruntled Shop!

Ah, There Are All The Beds In This Place



So, just wanted to pass on congratulations to Dave and Emily for their recent engagement. As the Blogadier General pointed out whilst telling me the news, there really aren't any stories that will be appropriate for us to tell at the reception. Especially not this one.

Also, the word on the street is that the Disgruntled Nation seems to think that my big news is that the Disgruntled Girlfriend and I are also getting engaged...

Nope, it's something else. The BG knows, so I'll post it pretty soon (tonight or tomorrow) before he lets it loose. Actually, considering that me getting engaged is what you all thought the news was, the thing it actually is kind of loses its bigness. Thanks, jerks.

-Disgruntled

Friday, June 1, 2007

OK, I realize they were bad investments...I GET IT!

So it's 11:15 PM. DG and I had just finished watching "Children of Men," which is a really good movie, and were seeing what was on TV. The phone rings. It's one of my tenants at the place I just finished renting out (the one I tried to sell recently).

"Uh...sorry to call so late...my ceiling is leaking...it looks like it's going to fall in."

So, living 5 minutes away from the place, I rush over there. There is a slow drip coming from the ceiling in the master bedroom, and a shower-sized indentation around it. After putting a large Christmas tree stand below the leak, I go upstairs, where the tenant up there has already taken the drain cover off of the shower. He points out that there are several rips in the caulk - the culprit revealed.

I call the 24-hour emergency plumbers, who say they will come out for a substantial fee, or I can wait until the morning. The guy in the loft room and the plumber both seem to have the same amount of experience in these matters, and they both agree that I can wait till the morning, since if it was something serious, there would be a large hole in the ceiling and a lake in the master bedroom. So, tomorrow morning, starting at 8 AM, I am forgoing hiking at Great Falls Park with the DG for getting a plumber to come out and make me pay $400 to tell me I have a caulking problem. Then, I get to get a handyman to come out to make me pay $A Kazillion$ to drywall repair the shower-sized indentation in the ceiling.

I logged onto this site after coming home, and I noticed that Google had put two ads (out of four) for "Foreclosures." Thanks for the vote of confidence, Google.

And no, this isn't the "exciting info" I was going to write about that I mentioned in my last post.

I was still sulking, and the DG came into the room and proclaimed that she was going to treat me to a picnic lunch tomorrow to help me feel better.

And you know what...that does make me feel better.

Hee...





From the verbal gaffes of Bush, to the technical/visual gaffes of Hillary. Good times.

Anyway, I haven't posted on here in a while - I've been off on various tasks and the company cruise and whatnot. Also, I haven't really been able to think of anything to put up. There was a totally unrealistic study done recently (which I now can't find the link to, dammit) that said women prefer ugly men to attractive men, but I've already missed the boat on commenting on that. I will say, however, that in my experience that conjecture is only true if Schnapps and Gentleman Jack are involved. Just saying.

I've got all the rooms rented out in the place, so my real estate purgatory continues as I continue to fill the role of "slumlord." I've already had one guy spill a beer on the brand new carpet, but, like a certain night in college ("Boosh Night" for those scoring at home), he managed to clean it up quickly, partly through sucking up the beer himself. Ah, my tenants.

Hey, I made the news!!

And finally, stay tuned for some exciting info!! (Hint: Not involving selling the house(s).)

-Disgruntled

P.S. If you don't think that first picture is funny, ask that kid who just won the Spelling Bee.

P.P.S. That TB guy's wife is fucking hot. Even with the medical burka on.