1. The best "yo mama" jokes, like, ever.
2. Batman was based on T.R.
3. Fuck. The only beer I can stomach (besides pricey Belgian stuff, which I only recently discovered) advocates gang banging. (H/t Feminist Law Profs.) I am totally squicked out.
4. It is a matter of general knowledge that Asians like tennis and other such racquet/paddle sports. My brothers used to be avid players of tennis, even though we were poor. You can pretty much play on any free court at school with any cheap racquet and a can of balls. After the balls are worn out, you can give them to your little sis to play with, making this an actually very economical sport. And, because we are Vietnamese, they also played badminton for their HS teams and we had all these lame ass trophies. Because I am a bad Asian and have long been accused of being "white washed" by my high school peers until I eventually became the ultimate race traitor English-literature-major-with-a-white-boyfriend, I do not do any of these F.O.Bby things. Instead, I sail, which is so SWPL until you remember that I am descended from boat people.
You think that my obviously satirical and self-deprecating statements full of stereotypes are awkward and difficult to read? Try this article. I get the point and intent, but this is wince-inducing for many reasons, namely the seriousness of tone, the undercurrent of self-loathing and the desire to be so opposite of stereotype as to promote a certain Western-centric archetype. Not that there's no such thing as the model minority stereotype, but I don't think that one must necessarily be an aggressive-on-the-court badass who marries white beauty pageant queens in order to be considered a role model for progressive, non-traditional Asian people. Very creepy, this article.
5. Augh! My heart is breaking! I am older than this millennial generation, so I definitely remember taping songs off of the radio and getting the stupid DJ commentary at the beginning and end with the crackle of the radio waves. My first mix tapes were really cassette tapes (as were my first albums), and I gave them to my first boyfriend with so much misplaced enthusiasm and hope. When he went to England for a week-long MUN conference (we met sitting next to each other on the bus-ride home from the Mission Viejo MUN conference; I failed to get the gavel representing the U.S. in COPUOS and he offered a shoulder of consolation for my dashed geek-hopes and pretty little head), I sent him off with a week's wort of mixes for his Sony Walkman. I recall that they had Semisonic and Hootie and the Blowfish and Dave Matthews Band. Oh, judge me, haterz.
Road tripping with JRO during Spring Break '04 (camping!), we listened to two books of Harry Potter on tape, which was really fun and a great way to relax in between marathon conversations. I still have a bunch of mix tapes I've received from dudes significant or otherwise in a box at my parents' house. I still refer to mix CDs as "mix tapes," such that people ask me about this and say "really?! you still own a stereo?!" No, I do not (well, not since the move), but if a dude gave me an old-school mix tape demonstrating that he took the time to listen to the songs as he dubbed them (so time consuming!) and was careful to catch the fade without too much blank space with particular attention to how one song flowed to the next, I would be utterly charmed and immediately hie myself to some store (e.g., Amazon) to get a stereo. Love, after all, is a mix tape, ready to be interpellated.