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  • #31
    Oh God.

    What have we created....
    Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

    "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

    (more comments in my User Profile)


    • #32
      Something terrible. Something unspeakably horrifylingly terrible.
      Show me a man who has forgotten words, so that I can have a word with him.


      • #33
        Whats the big deal about cussin'?

        I can't wait until the looks at the store when some white hair cuts Xingwie off and he calls her something....

        practice wu de


        • #34
          How many bags did he bring?

          He's an amazing guy.

          I can remember when he first arrived. Back in late November. God, it's been over two months already.

          He showed up with one bag. Oh, and this little carry on thing he had on his shoulder.

          I just couldn't imagine how many clothes Shi De Cheng brought with him. I soon found out. A few socks, some monk clothes, and a pair of sweats that I bought him two or three years ago. Not much.

          When he wants me to wash his clothes, he brings me a small pile, wrapped up in a ball, in his little hands. He looks at me, and then twists and turns the little ball of clothes in the air. I immediately figured out what that meant.

          He had no idea how to use a washing machine. The whole concept just baffled him. I've got one of those high tech ones, with a lighted control panel that you touch, and tons of different settings. But, being a bachelor, I just wash everything in hot. Really hot.

          Got to kill the beasties that you pick up in prayer services.

          I had wondered over the years, whether it would be better in the long run, from a purely economical point of view, to start hanging out with women of better repute. Then, maybe, I could start washing my colored clothes in cold, and my white ones in warm. Like you're supposed to. I really did give this one hell of a lot of thought, years ago.

          I just bought a larger hot water heater.

          Oh, washing monk clothing. Can't do the hot water thing with monk clothes though. Hot water doesn't do much for monk uniforms. Neither does the hot setting on the dryer. Not that if his clothes shrank a bit it would make much of a difference. But, I'm careful with his clothing.

          He's gotten to the point where he now just goes to the laundry room, and pops his clothes into the washing machine. Then, he comes to find me to push the buttons.

          Sometimes, he puts his clothes in, and takes mine out. But, instead of putting my damp clothes into the dryer, he just puts them aside. Somewhere.

          Eventually, I find them.

          Sometimes, they're kind of dry.

          Amazing what a few days the Las Vegas climate will do to damp clothing.

          Oh, back to his clothes. He doesn't have much clothes. No wonder he doesn't have a lot of baggage.

          But, then again, he does carry a lot.

          Shi De Cheng is the grand "schmoozer". Put him in a crowd, and he wows them all. He's just got that personality that touches everybody's heart. A real gem of a person.

          And, if he really likes you, or, even kind of likes you, he pulls out some sort of Buddhist trinket, like a mala, or, a Buddha necklace, and gives it to you. Sometimes, he takes the mala that he's wearing on his wrist, and gives it to some special person.

          Did that with an FBI agent one day. Well, that kept me out of trouble.

          Did that with one of our younger students. Kid hasn't taken the damn thing off yet.

          I did that with a princess in church one day. So much for that.

          Yes, Decheng is truly a gem of a human being. Always smiling, always saying "Happy to meet you" in better and better English. Thank god he hasn't picked up some of my other wonderful mannerisms of speech.

          He's something to watch. Introduce him to some new person, and he bows, does the "omitofuo" thing, tries to talk in English, and eventually, pulls a Buddhist trinket out of his shoulder bag, and hands it to the person he's talking too. And, without a doubt, each and every person, to this very day, lights up at the gesture, and the meaning, of this newly beloved gift.

          From a Shaolin monk.

          I said to Steve one day, that I finally understood why he had two bags with him, one carry on, one piece of luggage. No, it most certainly wasn't the amount of clothing that he brought. Nope.

          He brought a whole bunch of Buddhist trinket stuff with him. Mala's, necklaces, statues, etc, etc. You name it, and he brought it.

          Truly amazing.

          He had a ****ing little store with him. All so that he could give these things out to all the different people that he met. On a daily basis.

          I said to the russbo gang one day, that I was starting to wonder when he was going to run out of stuff to give out to people. I mean, he only brought one piece of luggage. And he's been here for over two months. Giving stuff out to people that he meets on a regular basis. Just think, how much more considerate can one get?

          I thought back to the day I picked him up in the airport. God, his luggage must have weighed a ton.

          Then, one day, Steve went into my garage. Where we keep all the little malas, and statues, and other Buddhist trinkets that we imported from China, so that we could sell them on the online DocStore. It wasn't a thing that we did to make money; no, not at all. You really don't make money selling this stuff online. Not after you look at the time and expense of getting it, importing it, inventorying it, etc. Not sure if inventorying is a word, but, after you do all the things that you have to do with all this **** that I've bought in Shaolin, and brought it over, you start to make up all sorts of words.

          Got lots of it in my garage. Lots of trinkets. And statues. And necklaces. And other ****.

          Lots of it.

          Today Steve noticed that the "lots of it", turned into "less of it". Lots of opened and empty boxes scattered about.

          We found Shi De Cheng's source of gifts....

          "Hello. Happy to meet you. Omitofuo. For you. I found it in Rich's garage..."

          Classic. Truly classic.
          Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

          "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

          (more comments in my User Profile)


          • #35
            what a guy.


            • #36
              True buddhist....

              just give it away... He thought you were saving them for a "special dowery"
              practice wu de


              • #37
                Valentines Day.

                It's a day when you spend all sorts of time and money on the one that you really love. Restaurants are jam packed, chocolate stores have lines in front of them, and god help you if you need to go near a lingerie store. The crowds in the mall just make things damm too difficult. Like, going to EB to check out the latest computer games. Or, walking by Victoria's Secret to see who the latest air brushed hottie of the month is.

                I ****ing hate Valentines Day. We should shoot the son of a bitch that created this monstrosity for us men.

                This year was easy for me. No honey, no spend money. No flowers, and chocolates, and take the girlfriend out for an expensive evening, so I could eventually end up in my dark, dingy bedroom, and beg to get my back scratched for five minutes. No, it was a lot easier this time around.

                All I had to do, was entertain two monks.

                So, off we went. To the movies. But it wasn't just any ordinary movie place.

                We were in Cedar City, Utah. Up near my second home.

                Up in the land of Mormons.

                Now, I have nothing against this peace loving people. Nothing at all. I have no problem with them. I have spent quite a bit of time with these Stepford wives, and have even dated a few. Found the ones that I've dated in the past to be slightly on the nutso side, but, then again, I've found that with most of the women that have found me attractive. The benefit of the Mormon women, is that, they tend to be rather cute.

                So, it was off to the movies. On Valentines Day. And all we could see, scattered around us, were all these look alike young girls, with hair styles from ten years ago, all holding hands with their little blond boyfriends. Tons of them. All gazing constantly into each other's eyes. All wondering when the talk of marriage proposals were going to start. All wondering, just when, oh, just when, they were going to get that back seat wet. Or, wet again.

                All, at the blessed little age of 18, or so.

                There we were, tons and tons of little blond and brunette lovers, all going to see some strange movie about fifty dates. With Adam Sandler, and some female movie star I just can't stand.

                I don't think any of these little one's had ever had fifty dates.

                God knows I have.

                God knows I don't want to go through that again.

                No, I couldn't imagine myself sitting through some lovey dovey **** movie about relationships, on Valentines Day, with hundreds of cooing little Mormon boys and girls.

                I decided to take Shi De Cheng and Shi Xing Wei, to a good movie.


                Now, I had an idea as to what it was all about. But, I didn't realize that it was going to be about what I thought it was going to be about.

                Try explaining the concept of a paranoid schizophrenic alcoholic lesbian prostitute sociopath who commits serial murders, to Shaolin monks.

                Go ahead, I dare you. I just wasn't going to go there.

                Decheng and Xingwei were spellbound. They just sat there. Spellbound.

                And after the movie, all I could see was shock in their face. Absolute shock.

                They just didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. I just didn't know what to say.

                And later on, in the car, Decheng finally opened up.

                "American woman bad".

                I wasn't going to go there either.
                Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

                "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

                (more comments in my User Profile)


                • #38
                  Rubber bands...

                  Late at night, after classes are over, and after we eat dinner, I usually sit down with Xingwei and spend some time with him teaching English. He hasn't been doing as well with it as Decheng did. Decheng, being older and more mature, seemed to have a greater desire to excel at it. Xingwei, tended to be more fascinated with the Chinese TV that I have piped in to his room from my satellite dish. But, it's been quite a few months now of living together, and I'm trying to emphasize the importance of his learning English.

                  When he's not watching that tall Chinese guy play basketball.

                  Or, watching some English speaking religious channel on my television.

                  Never figured out what he sees in these televangelists. But, he watches them all the time. In fact, when we drive by a church, he doesn't call it a church. He calls it "hallelujah!". And when I go to church, I don't call it a church. I call it "see you later". So, Xingwei has not yet figured out the word church. But he knows that people go to the "hallelujah!" to watch somebody just like the moron he sees on television, spouting out all sorts of ****, and collectiing all sorts of money from the people who go their to listen to him.

                  Just like my church. Only, a bit more, well, rewarding. At least, in the temporary sense.

                  But one night, Xingwei noticed that I was having difficulty sitting still. It was almost midnight, and I was in pain.

                  I explained to him, in as simple a term that I could, remembering that his level of English understanding at this point, rivaled that of a three year old.

                  "My ass hurts".

                  He gave me a sympathetic look. He didn't understand a word I was saying. But, he's very sensitive to things that are around him, and he noticed that I was walking funny. And that I couldn't sit still. And that I was grimacing every time I passed gas. Which, was often. Even my dog decided to sleep on the other side of the room.

                  I can't believe I'm writing this on an internationally viewed web site.

                  And I sat there, going over "Hello Mr. Wang", "How are you Mr Wang", "How is your wife Mr Wang".

                  I'll bet that Mr Wang's ass didn't hurt like mine did. "How is your ass Mr. Wang?"

                  Xingwei couldn't find that one in our book. He looked at me with his usual, "I dunno" look.

                  I dunno. Yes, that was the problem. How to explain to a Shaolin monk, who has eaten vegetables all his entire life, who's colon has notoriously been infected and re-infected with one bacterial infection after another, who has probably, I can't believe I'm writing this, has never had a well formed bowel movement in his life, how do you explain to an individual such as this, what a hemorrhoid is.

                  I had one. No, I think I have two. They're like breasts you know. They travel in pairs.

                  I sat there, in between "Mr. Wang Good morning", and "Mr. Wang, how is your wife", with me speaking to him in Chinese, and him trying to speak back in English, trying to figure out, how i was going to explain to him, that I had a rubber band up my ass.

                  A rubber band.

                  I don't even think he knew what a rubber band was.

                  And that every time I moved, wiggled, or farted, that rubber band would stretch, and constrict, and stretch, and constrict, way, up, well, you know where.

                  How did I try to explain to him where "way up there" was?

                  And as he mumbled through lesson one, lesson one, which we started in December, I thought of the events that previous day.

                  There's an advantage being a physician. No, it's not that you get to diagnose your own hemorrhoids. It's that you get to call the best hemorroid colo-rectal surgeon in town, on his cell phone, and say, "Joe, my ass hurts. It's time to get rid of this damn roid. When can I see you?" And, get an answer. And, an appointment. Within days.

                  So there I was, in Joe's clinic. Now, I've known Joe for fifteen years. He's an older guy, but that didn't matter. I hang out with the oldies just as well as I hang out with the youngies. And, he's black. Which is not a problem either. In fact, we were so close, that the whole race issue just never became an issue. The things we would talk about, when we had one of his patients, legs spread out, on an operating room table, he, between them, looking up this guy's rectum with a sigmoidoscope, peering deeply into the nether nether lands of some poor bastard with colon problems, and me, on the other end of the table, keeping the guy asleep, so that he was completely unaware of some other poor bastard who made his living looking up the rectums of people on a daily basis.

                  And Joe and I would talk about all sorts of things. Things, that I couldn't talk to Xingwei about. Like, girls. And, girls.

                  And, girls.

                  Joe and I would have a great time bantering about, during these procedures. On and on and on.

                  I would tell Joe about all these great women I was dating. And Joe would tell me.

                  And sometimes, just to irritate the other white guys in the room, Joe would tell us about these beautiful white women that he was dating.

                  Now, I really didn't have any problem with Joe, being older, and blacker, than the rest of us, dating women, who were younger, and whiter, than the rest of us. But, I would feign some sort of disgust. Just enough to make Joe laugh.

                  And then, I would decrease the amount of anesthesia I was giving the patient, just enough for the patient to cough, and fart through the sigmoidoscope, that Joe was looking up through.

                  Joe learned to never tell us about the younger, whiter women he was dating.

                  Xingwei wanted to know what I was thinking about. "Ni shang shi me ma?"

                  Oh, nothing. Continue, "Mr Wang, Good morning."

                  Well, I guess Joe never forgot about all those wonderful times we had in the operating room. Nor, had he forgotten about all those little acts of revenge I blew onto his poor little head.

                  "Take your pants down and lie on that table."

                  "Underwear too?"

                  Of course underwear too. But, hell, I wasn't going to make this easy for him. It was one thing being a physician, hell, the procedure he was going to do on me, I had done many a time before. On, many a poor bastard that needed it.

                  It just felt, well, weird, that I was on the other end of the scope.

                  Xingwei wasn't going to understand this whole concept of two men in a room, one sitting on a stool, the other lying on a table with his pants down around his knees, waiting patiently for the other guy to shove this little silver thing, that felt like a god damn fire nozzle, up, well, you know where.

                  How do you explain "you know where" to a monk? I was going to sit on that one for a while.

                  "Mr Wang, how is your wife?" Once again.

                  I won't get into what this little silver thing feels like, when it gets shoved, rather abruptly, up, you know where. Or, what if feels like, when this little silver thing is manipulated, as it is supposed to be, to become, well, bigger. Spreads out. So you can see through it better. It gets, well, bigger.

                  No, not bigger. ****ing humongous.

                  I just laid there. Grabbed the damn cushion with my hand and squeezed hard. Left an imprint in that damn mattress. Joe wiggled the scope around, and looked and looked. I just laid there with my ass bare, hanging off the small exam table I was curled up on.

                  "Damn that's big", Joe exclaimed.

                  Quite didn't know what to say. In fact, his comment took some of the pain away. Kind of made me feel good.

                  "Why, thank you. That's quite a compliment, coming from a black man you know". We never had trouble with the whole black humor thing between us.

                  "Yea, Richard, it's a big puppy. I was talking about your hemorrhoid." He laughed, in a sinister sort of way.

                  Oh, scorched. He got me bad. Must have been thinking about all those times I made his patients blow farts in his face during the procedures. And then I thought, maybe I could blow farts in his face, while he was doing mine. The ultimate come back. The ultimate revenge for insulting the manhood of some poor white guy. No, I could not take that insult lying down.

                  "Mr Wang, how is your puppy?"

                  Xingwei looked at me funny.

                  "No, no, mistake. Once again. Mr. Wang, Good morning..."

                  Revenge. Getting Joe back for a transgression. How could I allow him to insult the Russell clan. A clan that went back, decades, and decades, to the days of the Russian Revolution. My great grandfather, god bless his soul, spent a good part of his life in Bulgaria and southern Russia, leading a band of men, raping women, burning houses, and pillaging villages throughout a good deal of that countryside.

                  What a guy.

                  And then, there was me. Educated, self made, successful. All those years of kempo and gong fu training, thoughts of showing Joe some little quick bad ass move to demonstrate that yes, this guy had some bad ass left in him, bad ass that descended through the blood line, a blood line of, well, evil. No, I was not the guy that one should be bantering around about. I could show Joe a thing or two. In a nice way, that is.

                  And then I remembered that it was Joe that had this ****ing spread out piece of cold steel up my ass.

                  Great granddaddy was just gonna have to let this one go.

                  "BRING ME THE RUBBER BAND"

                  Joe's voice boomed out of the little room to the nurses outside. Outside, where, directly across from my door, sat the two secretaries, who ran the place. Two, kind of old, kind of fat, women, with abysmmally dyed hair, two women, who eyed me in that "take me and throw me to the ground and TAKE ME" kind of way, two women, who no doubt, got an eyeful of my ass, splayed out across the exam table, with a metal thingie sticking out of it, when the nurse came in, with, THE RUBBER BAND.

                  Yes, bitch. leave the ****ing door open so EVERYBODY can see this descendant of the great Russell clan, lying but naked with a metal probe up his ass. I could just imagine the fifty something year old fat one with the multi-hued red dyed hair, admiring me.

                  The door stayed open. And once again, Joe yelled out:

                  "BRING ME THE RUBBER BAND"

                  The way Joe screamed it out, all I could think of, was the knights who say "NEE". The knights who wanted a shrubbery. I laughed to myself, which, with this six inch spread out piece of steel up you know where, was not a wise thing to do.

                  "Mr Wang, Good morning". How is your damn bowel movement, Mr Wang. You don't want to go through this...

                  Xingwei kind of looked at me puzzled like. I was squirming in my seat, in pain, my mind obviously wandering. I apologized, and continued with his lesson. And, my mind wandered...

                  Did you ever sit in your grammar school class, behind some dumb girl (Weren't they all dumb back then? Then they got older, grew breasts, and became ****ing wonderful creatures, that we spend our lives and our lifelong earnings, chasing, and chasing, and chasing...), and, take some RUBBER BAND, and shoot it against her head? Remember the sound it made?

                  "Here's the RUBBER BAND doctor..." I didn't like the sound of it. We weren't talking about shrubbery's here. This was a damn RUBBER BAND. And I knew where it was going.

                  Now, for those of you whose only knowledge of hemorrhoids consists of Preparation H (and you don't even know where that goes, no, you don't eat it), here's a little lesson. And, when you understand all of this, please call Xingwei up and explain it to him. A hemorrhoid is basically an enlarged vein. What makes it special, is, where it is. There is a juncture, between the skin that covers your ass, and, the lining that covers your colon and rectum, called the dentate line. Yes, it is one continuous thing. The veins, which carry the blood back to the heart, from parts of the but, connect with the veins that run along the rectum. The problem is, if there is some pressure in the rectum, either from some sort of tumor in the colon, or, just a bad diet, these veins in the area of the dentate line, right inside the anus (you can look that one up in your dictionary), sometimes dilate. And eventually get big. And painful. If these veins largely sit inside the rectum, above the dentate line, then, they don't really have the innervation that the skin does. If they continue down past the dentate line, then these veins have skin over them which is normally innervated. Like, regular skin.

                  You kill these hemorrhoids by grabbing them by their little or big heads, and put a tough little RUBBER BAND over them. The rubber band cinches the base of the hemorrhoid, the roid dies, and, eventually falls off.

                  Where it falls off, well, that's another matter.

                  "Move the RUBBER BAND. No, not there, no, no, yes, THERE!"

                  Snap. Remember the noise that rubber band made against that little girl's head in grammar school?

                  It sounds louder when it's attached to your ass.

                  I have rubber bands in the house. It most certainly would have been easy to teach Xingwei the whole concept of rubber bands. But explaining to him that I had one attached to me, up, well, you know where, well, that was going to be quite the job.

                  He noticed that my mind was not on the lesson. Quite frankly, I could give a **** whether Mr Wang had a good morning or not. I was having a miserable night. Every move, every squirm, all led to that tiny piece of rubber, tied tightly around, well, around, stretching ever so slightly, every time I moved.

                  Xingwei changed the subject. He wanted to know when I was going back to China. It really mattered to him. He wanted to know if I was going to be successful bringing the other two back with me for the summer. We had discussed bringing Shi De Hong, and, some female Tai Ji master, that we both knew, back with me. He was excited about the prospect. He couldn't wait for me to leave and take care of that business.

                  I couldn't wait to leave either. But the whole concept of getting on an airplaine, thirty five thousand feet up in the air, over the middle of the Pacific ocean, kind of disturbed me. With a rubber band up my ass.

                  The whole concept of this hemorrhoid, finally falling off. Falling off when I was walking around in Business Class. Sliding down my pant leg. Landing on the floor.

                  "Oh, stewardess, could you get that please?". The thought kind of tickled me.

                  And then, my mind started to wander. I started to think of other ludicrous scenarios. Like, the plane starting to descend. And, ascend.

                  And this little roid with a rubber band on it's neck, rolling up and down the aisle, with some Japanese stewardess chasing after it.

                  I told Xingwei I couldn't leave. Not yet. No, I had to delay my trip.

                  I just couldn't explain to him why.
                  Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

                  "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

                  (more comments in my User Profile)


                  • #39
                    Here is a way to get it through to him. Get a hose, attach a water balloon at one fill it up, and put it in your pants, then point it to yourself.

                    I was wondering do you have any suggestions viewing your recent medical problems about how to train or things to avoid. You may want to use a weight belt while weight lifting from now on. I was thinking breathing exercises would be good.

                    Also, you may want to buy some electrical toothbrushes, and tooth flossing picks, my dentist says I do a good job of keeping my pearly whites in good shape. I use a batter powered one.

                    I think you and my martial arts teacher could have a cold beer and talk about the money you spend on your facilities. He hosts seminars for masters and that's alot of cha-ching $$. He was a master mechanic. He spent alot of money on his facility too and he had some trouble with it. (Note to self ever build your own, get a general contractor).

                    Perhaps, you might want to suggest to the monk Xingxing(I'm sorry for the typing), to maybe work with some other groups of martial artists. Atleast that would get him out of your hair for longer. For instance, some masters(fifth degree blackbelts in the system I study) went to the shaolin temple to train I heard. Perhaps, he would work better with some young kids without direction.

                    Also, I take it your a real doctor doc?


                    • #40
                      I'm a real doctor. And, I played one on TV.
                      Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

                      "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

                      (more comments in my User Profile)


                      • #41
                        I think what's shaolin father is trying to get across is this, your a doctor, your physically fit, you have money. You have already been married. What do women got? A nice pair of hmm... So what they look nice, there are plenty of fish in the ocean. You can either negotiate from a position of strength or a of weakness. By the way, maybe it would help your game if your boxer friend out, and every time you act like a wuss around women, you have him punch you in the gut.

                        Anyway, eeh what's up doc?


                        • #42
                          I haven't been physically fit this year, though, I am starting to recover. And, I've never been married.

                          Which is why I have money.

                          Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

                          "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

                          (more comments in my User Profile)


                          • #43
                            Hey doc, have you looked into one of those internet phone services? I don't mean to be rude or anything. But like vonage, they have free long distance over the computer. It goes through the computer though. Just trying to help save you some $$.


                            • #44
                              I've used them in the past. In my mind, not worth it. Yet. Quality was just not what it should be. Calling cards can be purchased, which make international calling incredibly cheap.
                              Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

                              "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

                              (more comments in my User Profile)


                              • #45
                                It was a look of consternation that I had never seen before. Utter, desperate, fatigued, consternation.

                                And befuddlement.

                                Xingwei was tired. Then again, so was I. Still struggling with the jet lag from my return from Asia, I wasn't quite sure where my body was. But local time told me it was about nine oclock in the morning. Xingwei came into the office as I was checking my email, with that tired, befuddled, kind of angry and surprised look.

                                He wanted to show me something. He was desperate to show me something.

                                A few days ago, the ceiling in my gym fell down. It happened quite by surprise. The gym in my house is directly across the hall from Xingwei's room. Apparently, the insulation got soaked from some pretty serious rain two weeks ago, because of a roof leak, and the wet insulation caused the ceiling sheetrock to collapse. It was quite the mess. It was also quite funny, because we had started making jokes about the "noises in the attic" that Steve and Xingwei had mentioned, on a regular basis, during the entire summer. They were convinced that something was living up there. I thought it was just the ghosts of some old girlfriends. Fat ones. I thought nothing of it.

                                But, the gaping hole in the ceiling remained. I had no time to repair it. Nor, the inclination to be bothered. I hated doing sheetrock work.

                                Xingwei was kind of desperate to show me what was in his room. He had this rather childish grin on his face, as if he had accomplished something, something that he had never experienced before in his life. I started to wonder what was going on in his mind, a mind that grew up in Shaolin, and was barely learning about life in the US. He grinned more and more as we got closer to his room. The door was closed. Thoughts started racing through my head about what I was going to find behind his closed door. I was starting to get more and more worried; Xingwei mentioned something about "five AM", I thought rather proud of him that he had stayed out so late. I certainly didn't want to know where he was or what he was doing, but that sheepish proud grin on his face really made me wonder.

                                Really wonder.

                                I started thinking I was going to see some half dressed girl in his bed. The women in this town are nuts over him; god knows I thought, what he was doing last night, and where he was. Thoughts of his leaving the monkhood, and starting a secular life started running through my head. And then I started to shudder. Thoughts of the previous housekeeper, who had had her "eyes on him", ran through my mind. God I thought, if he's finally gone the life of chasing women, at least let him have someone in this room that weighs less than I.

                                I really feared opening the door. He was grinning from ear to ear.

                                Thoughts of finding an old girlfriend in his room then started entering my mind. Oh, what a story that would make. But, with my memory loss, I've run into some old girlfriends in the past, supposedly some of whom "I've had a relationship with", and couldn't remember. I figured, if there was a girl in his room, I probably wouldn't remember what I had ever done with her, if I had ever did.

                                I just hope shes not fat and ugly. I just hate having fat ugly chicks in my house. And, how could a teach a monk taste when it comes to women? It was tough enough teaching him English.

                                The room was a mess. A real mess. Furniture was strewn about. Things were all over the place. I started looking for a girl under the sheets. Under the stuff that was all over the place.

                                There was no girl in site.

                                Xingwei came in and spread his hands apart, by about six inches. Then, he mimicked this thing running around the floor, under the furniture, all over the room. He mimicked running after it, with his hands, and with weapons, trying to catch it.

                                For hours. Until five AM, when he finally gave up, and went to sleep with the hairly little crawly beast that was now inhabiting his room.

                                The hunt begins tomorrow. What a kung fu master can't kill with his bare hands, the rather large bald headed one will.

                                Just got to figure out what assault rifle I should use...
                                Experienced Community organizer. Yeah, let's choose him to run the free world. It will be historic. What could possibly go wrong...

                                "You're just a jaded cynical mother****er...." Jeffpeg

                                (more comments in my User Profile)


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