Run Cuong Run

Tuesday night I viewed “King Kong” on the big screen for less than $2. Even though I told King Kong not to climb the Empire State Building, he went out into the dangerous streets of NYC, grabbed a lovely blonde, and fell to his misery. While King Kong was showing off his testosterone, people spoke on cell phones and had some great philosophical (at least I’m assuming) conversations during the entire movie. The cell phone conversationalists like to duck down between their legs and hide from the audience in a sad attempt to muffle their banter. But I guess that’s not considered rude because I’ve seen that behavior in office meetings and conferences.

After King Kong throw some wooden barrels at the audience (or wait, Was that Donkey Kong?), we kicked it at local restaurant. I ordered “Com Xuan Chua”. That’s Rice with Sweet and Sour Pork Ribs. As usual, I chowed down my plate faster than the rest of the wrecking crew. But I noted the chili peppers tasted a bit funky.

In the middle of the night, my stomach concurred. After five successful toilet runs without freakish mishaps, I exhausted myself through the night. In fact I went to Pasteur Institute a bit late at 10:30am rather than at 8:30am. I’m proud to say I held my weight the rest of the day and did not drop it like King Kong off a building.