I got floated to the Medical ICU the other day. I don’t like going there because it’s just so damn depressing. A lot of the patients there just remind me of people waiting to die. Sad.

And then there are the crazy ones. My personal favorite of all the nutsos have got to be the ETOH patients aka ALCOHOLICS. They go into crazy withdrawals and then it’s like all kinds of hell breaks loose on a hospital bed.

For example :

- ETOH patients always tend to have massive rivers of liquid diarrhea. This is a problem so we shove rectal tubes up their butts to make sure they don’t sit in their s**t (literally) because they could cause some serious damage to their skin in addition to smelling super gross. * gag *

- They are all artistic souls. I’ve had so many of these kinds of patients who will literally shove their hands into their poop and decide to go body painting with their poopie. They eventually run out of skin to paint so they’ll start decorating the rails of their bed with abstract squiggles and, if they’re REALLY in the mood to do some interior decorating, they’ll try to fling some at the walls. These were the days when I really wished for some Hazmat gear.

I like this very much but not in white because I can guarentee if I need to Hazmat myself before going in to a patient room, that outfit is not gonna stay white for very long.

Hm….yeah….Supersonic Solar Yellow is not my color. Pass.

OOOH, HEEELL YES!!! This is the one we need!
I can be all Rambo / G.I. Joe on your ass, beeeoootttcchhh!!!
In addition, it’s functional because bodily bits and and pieces will just kind of blend in with the pattern.
Fashionable AND functional. Niiiiice.

- They are Houdini. Restraints are powerless against their ingenuity because they have all the time in the world to put their last remaining non-drunk brain cells to work and figure out a way to get out. Most of them seem to think diarrhea is a good lubricant.

The last one I had was funny. I don’t think he was in withdrawal any more because he didn’t exhibit any of the signs. I think he was just weird. Anyway, I hear him screaming so I run in the room thinking something’s horribly wrong.

Before I could ask him what’s wrong, he starts bellowing “I GOTTA TAKE A SH*T!!!” and I see he’s got his rectal tube clenched in his fist. I very calmly tell him to stop pulling what’s in his hand because that’s what draining his black, liquid diarrhea. Therefore, he is going poop.

He keeps pulling and screaming.

I then tell him that there’s a balloon inflated with at least 35 cc of sterile water at the end of that tube that’s going up his butt and the more he pulls, the more it’s gonna hurt. I also warned him that if he continues to keep pulling that tube, he can possibly quite literally rip himself a new asshole so I suggested he stop.

He did. Smart boy.

So what’s the lesson here, boys and girls? Enjoy your liquor but in moderation. Liver failure is no bueno nor is it fun, exciting and/or sexy. Noooope…..

The female essentials for a night out on the Vegas town are relatively straightforward and simple: skimpy dress, drag queen false eyelashes, push up bra and hooker heels. It’s a veritable no-brainer. However, trickier to discern are the things that should be left behind. Below are some rookie mistakes to avoid:

• The Giant Handbag

If it’s big enough to hold your wallet, cell phone, keys, gum, makeup bag, cigarettes and a bottle of water, it’s way too big to be in the club. There’s a reason why purses and backpacks must be worn to front or hand carried at the National Gallery of Art in D.C; large, obtrusive objects filled with bulky crap is a menace in tight, crowded spaces. People get bumped and drinks get spilled all because one person with poor judgement decides to lug all her worldly possessions in a packed room that can probably be deemed as a fire hazard. But it’s always more than one person with poor judgement, and it’s usually some ostentatious designer bag confirming it’s intentional nature. Rule of thumb: if it’s large enough to fit a box of Cheez Its, it’s too big.

Let’s be honest…the only thing you really need is an ID and a credit card. No one will notice if you’ve just applied a fresh coat of lipgloss.

• Cheap Shoes

It never ceases to amaze me how often people make this critical mistake, you can tell who they are by the fact that they’re walking around shoeless, limping like overdressed zombies or vying desperately for a seat at a stranger’s table.

(By the way, I feel compelled to state that I would never wear the shoes in the photo. Ever. Cork belongs in wine bottles.)

By “cheap”, I don’t mean price wise; there are many a shoe company that will charge an outrageous amount for poorly constructed wares. Guess is a perfect example of providing style without substance, but basically if any component is comprised of “man-made materials”, you’re going to be shit out of luck. The plastic (or cork) sole isn’t exactly built to absorb impact for comfort, and faux leather PVC just cuts into skin like rope burn. Combine that with hours of standing / walking / dancing activity and you’re looking at a world of pain. That is, unless you’ve become so accustomed to the abuse of cheap shoes that extensive callouses have developed and by now you’re completely immune and haven’t felt your feet for years…but otherwise invest in a great pair of killer heels of substantive quality.  Aldo does a great job of balancing reasonable prices, attractive styles and wearability.

• Wads of Cash

Clubs = Drinking.
Drinking = Getting Drunk
Drunk Gambling = Very Bad

I know I’m not the only one who has ever stumbled out of a club after a night of prolonged drinking to think it was a genius idea to throw a $100 bill into the nickel slots and max bet all gazillion lines to equal about $50 a spin. Or that splitting 10’s is really the secret behind ultimate blackjack success.

Since slot machines and gaming tables don’t accept Visa, the less cash you carry, the safer you will be.

• The Boyfriend (or, Boy Friend)

Boys in the group, in general, are detrimental to the general Vegas club experience: The stint in line becomes longer and if you’ve violated point #2, you can kiss the prospect of sitting down at a random table goodbye. They also greedily suck down all the booze if you share bottle service and no one will offer to buy you another drink since you’ve effectively put the nail in your own cock-block coffin. But most importantly, why the boyfriend should stay home is simply because he doesn’t deserve to go with you to Vegas. Not after he agreed to pick you up after class but fell asleep and managed to ignore all 26 phone calls. TWENTY SIX. I’m still thinking of a way to punish him.

Viva Las Vegas!

So i haven’t written on the blog for awhile now because I really haven’t thought of things to write about.  I need to start brainstorming things I suppose.  Anyway, since I’m on a swimming binge right now, I will write about that.

Ever since I saw Michael Phelps kick butt last year at the Olympics, I have wanted to start swimming again.  I figured that it was great exercise because you are working both your arms and legs plus you are getting a lot of cardio work in.  After a year of not following up, I finally decided to get started last week.  Starting out, I really had no idea  what to do.  Where to swim.  What to wear.  What the swimming etiquette was.  What kind of training program to do.  The first thing I had to do was some research on the net.

Where To Swim

If you don’t have a pool in your backyard or apartment complex then you’re going to have to research a little to find a place to swim.  You have a couple of options here.  If you’re swimming for fitness, a kiddie pool isn’t going to do.   Here’s some options:

1)  Health Club – 24 Hour Fitness, Ballys, LA Fitness, Etc.  Not every location has a pool so make sure to check online and see how close one is to you.  This is probably the most cost efficient way to go since most of you have gym memberships already.

2)  YMCA – My local YMCA has an indoor heated pool and is biking distance for my apartment.  Membership is $60 a month though so that’s pretty steep for somebody who is just going to be swimming 2-3 times a week.

3)  High School Pools – Some high schools offer free swim for non students.  I found it difficult to find a school in my area that offered this though.

4)  College Pools – I checked out the pools at UCLA and Santa Monica College (SMC) and they were both superior to anything I had found up to that point.  Both pools are outdoors so you can get a good tan while you are getting exercise so that’s a plus.  The UCLA pool in the summertime has a bunch of Euro exchange students getting tans on the grass so you get eye candy too.  =)  The big negative though is PARKING.  UCLA parking is $10 now (I think) and SMC parking is nonexistent.  It’s basically too much of  hassle to try swimming at these places.

5)  LA City Pools – This was the option that I chose.  The City of LA currently operates around 60 swimming pools throughout the city so there is a good chance that there are at least a couple within a couple miles of where you live.  Here is the website:  www.laparks.org/dos/aquatic/aquatic.htm  When you find a pool near you, check out their individual link to find out the swim times and how many lanes they have open.  I chose the Westwood Park pool since it’s right down the street from me.  The Westwood Pool is close to my apartment, indoor, heated to 80 degrees, and is open till 9 so it had a lot of the criteria that I was looking for.  Admission is only $2.50 or if you’re a WEJ like me, go get a library card and get in for only $2. What a deal!  Haha.

What To Wear

Ok so you found a place to swim.  Now what to wear.  At the very least, you’re going to need a good pair of swim goggles.  Go down to your local Sports Chalet or Sports Authority and grab a pair.  I’m not really a swim goggle expert so I didn’t know what to buy.  Goggle prices ranged from $8 to $30.  I picked up a pair of Speedo Hydrosity goggles for around $15.  I chose this pair because, according the box, the goggles are meant for long training workouts and daily swim exercise so there is an emphasis on comfort.  Ok so far so good.  How bout some good old Speedo bottoms?  I remember the first time I saw my roommate walk out to the pool in a pair of Speedos.  I almost vomited in my mouth.  Hahaha.  Leave that stuff for the EUROS please.  Luckily, nowadays, you can get Speedo shorts that go down to your knees.  I’m a novice swimmer, so I’m sticking to my simple boardshorts for now but I suppose if i get more into swimming, then I will eventually get some streamlined knee shorts.

Swimming Etiquette

So now you got your handy swim gear and are ready to tackle the pool.  There are certain rules to be followed so you don’t look like a total d-bag.   Most pools will want you to rinse down before you get in so you don’t foul up the water with your dirty self!  =)  Chances are that you’re going to have to share a lane with somebody so remember these things:

1)  Usually the lanes are marked Slow, Medium, and Fast so pick the lane which best suits your swimming ability.  I usually just pick the Medium lane.
2)  Before you enter the lane, make sure the other swimmers in the lane are aware that you are joining them.
3)  Two lap swimmers per lane may split the lane. Three or more lap swimmers must circle-swim the length of the lane counter-clockwise.
4)  Passing swimmers while lap swimming in lanes can be dangerous.  Swimmers must exercise caution approaching the wall and should allow faster
swimmers to proceed unimpeded.  Or you can switch to a slower lane.

Training Programs

Ok so I haven’t really researched this part yet but I definitely need to.  The first time I went to the Westwood Pool (last week), I simply jumped in and started doing laps.  I guess that’s a good thing to do for your first time so you can get a baseline of where you can work up from.  Here’s a simple program that I found online for all you beginners:  http://swimming.about.com/od/trainingplans/qt/Swim_Training_Plan_to_Get_Started_Swimming_Build_to_500_Meters_or_Yards_.htm  I already can swim 500 meters in one session but I’m going to try to do it in that format (which I cannot do at the moment).  I guess the main point is that you establish a baseline and keep track from there to see if you are progressing in # of laps swam and time of rest.

So that’s basically it.  This entry is getting pretty long winded so I’ll wait for next time to recount my first time swimming at the pool.  It was quite an adventure.  Haha.

So BigAuntie had a BBQ at her place yesterday and told me to bring Clyde. My dad’s side is Chinese but they’re all obsessed with watching Korean dramas. Actually….my Japanese side is also obsessed with Korean dramas. My Japanese grandma has freaking POSTERS of the Korean drama boys posted on the walls in her home. Jeezus….

I loooooved this drama!! Coffee Prince cracked me up. So funny!!

I crack up every time I see “100 Days With Mr. Arrogant”. Oh man….

Anyway, so BigAuntie and LittleAuntie have been watching the dramas. They are so proud of what they learned to say in Korean so they’ll corner Clyde every time they see him to yell some more random Korean words at him. Then they forget he’s Korean and start speaking Chinglish at him. Luckily, Clyde’s a smart man and can piece together what they’re saying.

Once they remember he’s Korean and not Chinese, they start reminding each other in Chinese to speak English to him. Meanwhile, I’m dying laughing as I’m translating for Clyde. Good thing he has an awesome sense of humor and is so easy going.

So this is what they know how to say :

1. Hello

Anyong-haseyo ????? is something they now know how to say…..except this is how they remember to say it :

Onion-Hah-For-Sale-oh!

I’m not kidding. They tried so hard to remember how to say “hello, how are you” and that’s the only way they would remember. I was about to die laughing. Clyde looked slightly puzzled and amused.

2. BigAuntie Is The Feisty One

Up next on the list of things they learned to say so that they could talk to my boyfriend is how to say “ATTACK!!!”

Yup. I’m not quite sure why she remembered to say that, what she was watching where that word was featured enough for her to even remember or why she decided she needed to know that but she proudly told Clyde the new Korean word she learned. She was so proud, she kept saying it over and over again.

This was funnier when she had a paring knife in her hand as she made orange zest for the cocktails.

3. Love Conquers All

LittleAuntie is the sweet one. She shyly pulls on my elbow and whispered “I also know a new word! Want to hear it?” Of course I said “Yes” but I was a little nervous by now.

She smiled and said “I know how to say ‘yobo’ !!”

Aaaaww….and then she told me to call Clyde that because, from what she’s seen on the dramas, Korean men really like that. She’s so cute.

4. SHOTS! SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS!

I can honestly say I’ve never been more afraid of my aunties and their friends up until last night. We were making shots in the kitchen per usual but we weren’t prepared for what would happen when our moms and their friends let the liquor get to their heads. Next thing I know, our moms are screaming the chorus to the “Shots” song in the kitchen while shaking their empty cups and demanding more. I thought we were going to have a stampede in the kitchen.

Oooooh…..my…..God…….we cut them off after that. I asked Clyde if he had fun and he was like “Yeah!”

Nice! Good times!

I did my first 10K yesterday in Culver City. That means I ran a little over 6 miles. I was feeling pretty good because I thought I had run at least 2 miles….and then I saw the 1 mile marker ahead of me. That’s when I realized I was about to die.

By the 2nd mile, I was hating life. Mile 3 saw me cursing up a storm in my head, wondering WTF was I thinking and why did I think doing this stupid 10k was a good idea. Last but not least, I was asking myself why I ever signed up and PAID $120 to do a half marathon in September. I couldn’t breathe by Mile 5 and I couldn’t feel my feet by Mile 6.

That’s a lot of questions to answer but not to worry. I had plenty of time to come up with the answers because my goal was to finish this thing in 1 hour and 30 minutes. I’m happy to say I finished it in 1 hour 23 minutes!!!!! I ALSO WASN’T LAST IN MY AGE GROUP!!! I was second to last….but whatever. I wasn’t last. Muahahaha!!!!

Clyde was running with me and he can run faster than me. I felt bad because I knew I was holding him back from bettering his 10k time. When I was busy gasping like a dying fish, I managed to croak, “You….go….first…. I’ll….. catch…………. up..with………… you………* gasp * wheeze * …..later…..”

He wouldn’t have any of that. He stayed by me the whole time and kept encouraging me to keep at it. I think he has ESP-n or something because he would say that to me when I was mentally coming up with reasons why I should flop over dead on the side walk but away from the piles of horse poop. I wasn’t ever going to give up….but fantasizing about it kept my mind occupied and stopped me from remembering that my muscles were on fire.

So here’s what I learned and what I noticed :

Never Ever E-V-A-R Judge!

There were people who I didn’t think could run. Call me judgemental (I was) but they didn’t look like what a runner’s supposed to look like. They weren’t lean or even in shape. Then again, neither am I but hell, I’m not trying to convince anyone that I can beat world records.

These were the people who kicked my ass in the 10k. No joke. The ones who looked like me beat people who looked like they were really in shape. Go figure.

Slow And Steady

Another humbling experience came in threes. I called them the Trio because there were two grandmas and one grandfatherly figure. I literally ate their dust for the entire 10k. That’s right. A bunch of grandparents kicked my ass but they weren’t even running. They were power walking. Good God…

In the end, I was so happy because :

- I finished the 10k well within my goal time
- I didn’t fall down
- I’m averaging a 13.26 minute mile
- Clyde is so supportive
- we stuffed our faces with pizza and had an awesome nap after the race.

Now that I’m done Vi Peel-ing my face, I’m up for my next challenge. Actually, I should say I’m up to resuming my original challenge – training for the Disney half marathon in September.

I’ve been pretty good. I’ve been running at least twice a week and I’ve been trying to squeeze in a long run every week. So far, my short run has increased to 2.5 miles each and my last long run logged in about 4.5 miles. I need to do a long run this week….so I’m doing a 10k.

That’s 6.3 miles. Wtf…I haven’t run 6.anything miles since I was in high school.

So here’s what I noticed so far during the last month or so that I’ve been training :

Baby Got Back

I am now an AWA – Asian With Ass. My glutes are like….out there. I feel * sort.of.almost.not.really * like the girls in the Sir Mix-A-Lot video.

Yup. Sort of.

2. I’m Carbo Loading

Running is awesome. Not only do I get to go shopping for awesome new clothes, I also get to eat a whole bunch of stuff I normally don’t eat.

Yesterday at work saw me shoveling in cupcakes, slices of pound cake and banana bread for breakfast. My coworkers were a little concerned but I reassured them that I’m simply carbo loading because I have a 10k to do on Sunday.

Friends : “Uh….Bonnie….you’re not supposed to eat things like cake and stuff….”

Me : “Cakes are made out of flour and sugar. Those are carbs therefore I’m supposed to be eating this stuff!”

They think I’m delusional. I think I’m right.

3. Restrictions Are No Fun

Clyde said I shouldn’t really eat things too oily and fried starting Friday evening (last night). I was so sad….but perked up once I realized he told me this in the morning. That means I could still have fried chicken for lunch because it wasn’t evening yet!!

So that’s exactly what I did. Omfg, it was so good.

4. Carbo Loading The Right Way

I’ll be making this for dinner tonight.
It’s Angel Hair Pasta with Basil and Shrimp.
We’re also having garlic bread.
Yummy!!!

I am so hungry now. That’s the bad thing about eating refined carbs. I fill up really fast but then I have to feed Barney the Tapeworm again just as fast. * sigh *

I should start making dinner now.

Get it? Day V? As in, the Roman numeral for the number 5 and the phonetic sound of the Vi peel. I’m funny.

I’m not sure if I just heal supernaturally fast (like Wolverine!!! ….but minus the adamantium claws and the weird hair) or if my skin being oily has something to do with it.

I don’t know. But here’s what I do know so far :

Clyde Thinks I’m An Alien

This is what my epic shedding reminded Clyde of.
That’s great.
I’m happy to report my skin was not green and/or scaly underneath.

God, I shed like a freak! What the holy cow…. It was actually kind of gross. I’d look down from reading/typing/whatever and see big HUGE MONSTROUS (totally exaggerating) flakes of dead skin on my boobs. So gross.

Biore But Better!

Remember those old Biore strips from back in the day? The ones you applied to your nose and it takes off your blackheads? Yeah….so….this is kind of the same concept. I saw crap stuck to the underside of the dead skin sheets like you would not believe. It was rather enGROSSing to see all that stuff because :

1. It was there all this time and I had no idea!!!
2. I couldn’t stop touching it. It was like braille for really badly clogged pores.

Ugh. Yuck. Gross.

So Fresh And So Clean!

Today is Day 7. I’ve stopped shedding (actually, I was done by the evening of Day 5. Hell, I even went running that day) and my skin is freaking awesome.

It’s dewy, it’s soft and my pores are smaller.

Another added benefit is that it DRIED UP ALL THE CRAZY HI-I-QUALIFY-FOR-MY-OWN-ZIP-CODE CYSTIC ZITS!!! They’re all gone. Freaking awesome. Acne scars are also waaaay faded (by “waaaay faded”, I don’t mean they’re drunk. Har har har, I’m funny).

Final Thoughts

I’d do this again but probably not till at least 6 months later. I’m not too keen on forcing my skin to constantly regenerate all the damn time but you can do whatever the hell you want with yours.

I apply sunscreen religiously because this is fresh-from-a-burn skin. You need to take good care of it.

I’m not planning on getting a facial for at least another week. Gotta maintain, if you know what I mean. I didn’t go through almost a full week of reminding my boyfriend and myself of either Eric from Phantom Of The Opera and/or those weird lizard alien things from “V”.

Don’t forget to moisterize. Oh yeah. For some reason, the corner of my lips cracked pretty bad. You might want to either generously apply lip balm to your lips because mine were really Really REALLY dry and I keep myself very hydrated.

I started peeling yesterday. By early afternoon, most of the skin around my mouth had split and was doing its best impersonation of a curling flower petal. I looked pretty weird. This brings me to my next list of random thoughts :

1. To Be Forewarned Is Awesome

I had to pick up Clyde yesterday at the airport. This means I had to slather on the SPF 70 sunblock (I’m just a wee bit paranoid. Hey, I didn’t pay mad $$$$ just to refry my skin when I’m not supposed to.) and hope to God I didn’t run into any kids on my way to the car.

I made a point to warn him ahead of him that I will be peeling like a molting snake when he sees me. I didn’t want to scare the hell out of him nor did I want my feelings hurt if he were to jump 10 feet back while yelling “HOLY SWEET MOTHER OF GOD” because he wasn’t prepared for my….temporary face.

He took a look at my peeling, mostly orange with spots of pink face and said “Hi, baby. Ooh, you’re healing. * big kiss *”

Good thing he likes snakes. Me too! Sweet!

2. Not Exactly A Snow Drift

I’m shedding so much skin, I’m pretty sure all the dust mites within a 50 mile radius are dancing a happy jig because all this dead skin will feed generations of new dust mites. Awesome.

I’m not kidding. You’re not supposed to pick and pull at the skin coming off but if you need to, you can TRIM the curlings. And that’s exactly what I did. My manic attention to fine detail meant I was in front of my super bright bathroom mirror obsessively manicuring the dead skin off my face.

It is key to note that I am only trimming off the parts that have detached from my face (meaning it isn’t in direct contact) but only the parts that aren’t flush against my face. In other words, I left a little hedge of dead skin just to make sure I’m not inadvertently tugging on the shedding parts. That would suck.

When I was done (for the moment), I surveyed the counter and noticed a little pile of flesh colored curls and flakes.

Yup.

That was aaaaall me and my dead shedding skin in all its fallen glory. ^_______^

3. James Brown Said “I Feel Good” And I Agree!

So that was one song that ran through my mind. Know what’s another?

That’s right. Divinyls’s “I Touch Myself” because I am. My skin feels like a baby’s butt. Well, the portions of my face that has finished shedding feels like a baby’s butt. The portions that haven’t shed still feels likes rough sandpaper. * sigh *

Almost there!

I STARTED PEELING!!! Omfg, finally! My face is now the color of hm….wait, let me run to the bathroom and check again. Okay….so it’s kind of a weird pumpkin color….I can’t describe it…oh! I know what I remind myself of! George Hamilton!!!!

I’m not kidding when I say I’m about the same color right now.
Call me Georgina Hamilton. Pleased to meet you.
He’s constantly “tanned”.
I’m artificially burned.
Yeah….I’d call it even too.

I noticed that I have a harder time figuring out the shade my face has become unless it’s under super bright artificial light. Strange.

The little post care brochure says I should see some peeling around the peri-oral area (that’s “mouth”, btw) first. I actually started peeling around the nostrils and this morning I noticed a little flap of dead skin flapping in the breeze along my jaw.

HELL YEAAAH!!! I’M PEELING!!!!

A few thoughts running through my head :

1. Just Say No

Like most burns, you will itch like nobody’s business as you heal. That’s just the way it is. Vi Peel is no exception. My face feels really tight and I have to resist the urge to attempt to bongo drum my forehead.

I’m a picker. By that, I mean I’m one of those people who like to pop zits on other people and take disgusting delight when all that crap comes squirting out. Remember those YouTube videos featuring some drunk guy and “Herman”? >:)

Btw, it’s really sick. If you’re easily grossed out, don’t watch it. This is a pretty old video so chances are you’ve probably seen it….but just in case you didn’t, consider yourself warned!

So what does that have to do with anything? Simple. I like to pick at things and pop things. The grosser the better!!! This is why I’m good at my job.

But you’re not supposed to pick at the dead skin peeling off. This is because you can cause hyperpigmentation (dark discolored areas). It’ll also cause redness and irritation. My face already feels irritated and it’s already burnt-orange-George-Hamilton red. I don’t need any help in furthering this current state of being, thanks.

No picking also means try not to scratch at it. I suppose you could tap your face but that not only makes you look like you’re slapping yourself but it gives the impression that you’re an orange faced spazz.

2. It Hurts To Laugh

Like I said earlier, my skin is stretched pretty tight. It doesn’t exactly hurt to laugh or smile but it definitely feels weird because I can feel the dried and burned layer cracking over the new layers.

I’m starting to feel like the caterpillar that’s trying to come out of the cocoon as a brand spanking new butterfly but with way less drama. So win.

3. Because I’m Random

In a stroke of utter genius, I decided to have some coffee at 9 p.m. last night. That means I didn’t go to bed till about….3 in the morning. I was so bored and needed a distraction from my itching face so I decided to paint my nails.

I painted them OPI’s “Big Apple Red”.

That’s right.

It was so that my nails could match what I think my face looks like.

Don’t worry. My face really isn’t that red.

So I saw on YouBentMyWookie yesterday this awesome Mortal Kombat clip.

God, I hope Warner Bros buys it. This crazy dark, bloody, gory, epic dark remake is soooo right up my alley. Jeri Ryan is hawt. I loved her as Seven Of Nine…and now she’s Sonya Blade. Nice. Wouldn’t it be awesome if Ray Park (hellloooooo, Darth Maul and SNAKE EYES!!) was one of the fighters? You know all the fanboys and fangirls would come out in hordes.

I’m totally dancing around my apartment with the Mortal Kombat theme song on blast while screaming “FATAAAALITY!!!!! FINISH HIM!!!”

No, I’m not crazy.

By the way, in case you don’t know, those photos of those babies with the red eyes and diamond skin are real. That’s an actual condition and not Hollywood hype. They’re known as Harlequin Babies.

Poor babies….