There's nothing in the world that scares me more than groups of Asians.
Thus, imagine my horror when I found myself in a room filled wall-to-wall with them. I didn't know what that "studying abroad in China" form meant when I filled it out- if I'd known it had meant throwing myself into a den of Asians I would've told them to shove that form where the Asian sun don't shine.
I began sweating profusely. I furtively glanced around; the Asians had me completely surrounded. I avoided drawing the attention of their beady Asian eyes. Some wizenly old Asian was at the front of the room, gesticulating madly and talking Asian to all the Asians, some of whom nodded their heads in some form of Asian acknowledgment. My god, I thought; it's a fucking Asian propaganda meeting. There's a new Asian threat. I must report back to the CIA*!
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I slowly rose and left the Asian cadre, and to my credit none of the Asians pursued me. When I emerged onto the street, I grabbed the first non-Asian passerby I saw and screamed "My God, man, I'm on a mission of impossible importance. I must report back to the Security Council at once. What must I do?"
Proving that innocent looks can conceal nefarious motives, the passerby replied "You look like an American student. You do realize that you're in China, right?"
Lord God Almighty Jesus in heaven- he was onto me. I looked deep into his eyes and my heart stopped. I saw through his cunning Asian ruse. Through a haze of almost uncontrollable adrenaline, I asked "Are you...ASIAN?"
The reply jolted me to the essence of my being. "Well, my father was from Wisconsin, but my mother's from Beijing. So yes, I suppose."
The bile volcanically rose through my esophagus, spurred on by the Asian stimuli. It wouldn't be long now before the Asian hives began to break out all over my skin.
The Asians had left me no choice. I pushed the emergency button on my utility belt, beamed myself up to my space-ship and blasted off into the Asianless void. In the infinite cosmos I would find security and an Asian-free haven.
EPILOGUE
I'm doomed. My space-ship has crashed on the remote planet Asia Minor. With no communications equipment left functioning, I'm forever trapped on this planet of the Asians. I cursed myself- if only that guy at Jiffy Lube had checked my space-ship's Navitron, none of this would have happened. Then again, the Navitron was Asian-manufactured. Also, the Jiffy Lube guy was an Asian. Fook.
*CIA = Center of Intelligence about Asians
Thus, imagine my horror when I found myself in a room filled wall-to-wall with them. I didn't know what that "studying abroad in China" form meant when I filled it out- if I'd known it had meant throwing myself into a den of Asians I would've told them to shove that form where the Asian sun don't shine.
I began sweating profusely. I furtively glanced around; the Asians had me completely surrounded. I avoided drawing the attention of their beady Asian eyes. Some wizenly old Asian was at the front of the room, gesticulating madly and talking Asian to all the Asians, some of whom nodded their heads in some form of Asian acknowledgment. My god, I thought; it's a fucking Asian propaganda meeting. There's a new Asian threat. I must report back to the CIA*!
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I slowly rose and left the Asian cadre, and to my credit none of the Asians pursued me. When I emerged onto the street, I grabbed the first non-Asian passerby I saw and screamed "My God, man, I'm on a mission of impossible importance. I must report back to the Security Council at once. What must I do?"
Proving that innocent looks can conceal nefarious motives, the passerby replied "You look like an American student. You do realize that you're in China, right?"
Lord God Almighty Jesus in heaven- he was onto me. I looked deep into his eyes and my heart stopped. I saw through his cunning Asian ruse. Through a haze of almost uncontrollable adrenaline, I asked "Are you...ASIAN?"
The reply jolted me to the essence of my being. "Well, my father was from Wisconsin, but my mother's from Beijing. So yes, I suppose."
The bile volcanically rose through my esophagus, spurred on by the Asian stimuli. It wouldn't be long now before the Asian hives began to break out all over my skin.
The Asians had left me no choice. I pushed the emergency button on my utility belt, beamed myself up to my space-ship and blasted off into the Asianless void. In the infinite cosmos I would find security and an Asian-free haven.
EPILOGUE
I'm doomed. My space-ship has crashed on the remote planet Asia Minor. With no communications equipment left functioning, I'm forever trapped on this planet of the Asians. I cursed myself- if only that guy at Jiffy Lube had checked my space-ship's Navitron, none of this would have happened. Then again, the Navitron was Asian-manufactured. Also, the Jiffy Lube guy was an Asian. Fook.
*CIA = Center of Intelligence about Asians
posted by Jason at 12:48 am
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