Now, the drop-clothes are gone. The BLM murals blend in with the same-o same-o. The homeless melt back into the concrete searching for dropped change.
Hopefully, George Floyd will not be forgotten in a few weeks when people go back thumping their Bibles, and care more about the extra ketchup in a supersized meal than the single mother that handed it to them.
The amount of deaths is like Six degrees of Kevin Bacon. But it’s not six degrees; it’s two. And it’s not Kevin Bacon—it’s the Grim Reaper. And the deaths are limited to people. The casualties include ma and pa diners, graduation parties, and baseball season.
Foreign supermarkets will always be strange. You can buy everything but not the thing you really crave–a taste of home.
There’s only one thing more disgusting than having nothing to sell at the market than rodents. That’s being the tourist who wants to take a picture. Me.
This is the picture you see on tourist websites for the golden Buddha in the Tham Phu Kham Cave in Vang Vieng, Laos. What they don’t show you is the black hole behind it, the one that I fell into, in spite of the flash light strapped around my head.
Last but not least, is my least favorite kind of Artificial Intelligence in China. It’s the endless bullshit excuses I get from students regarding late homework. Embarrassingly enough, the majority of the excuses flow like verbal diarrhea from American students.
Christianese is the only language more confusing than Chinese. For starters, you can’t cut and paste it into my faithful friend, Google Translate.