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There has been a ghost that has been following me. I'm sure of it. But this ghost is quite peculiar. I feel his or her presence all the time. The funny thing about this ghost is that it is randomly farting around me. I know it sounds like I am farting and then blaming it on the ghost but that's not the situation that has inspired me to write this.

I drive a lot, back and forth between LA, Little Saigon and Laguna Hills. On these road trips, I am alone most of the time. There have been several instances that while I am driving, an obvious fart-like smell fills my truck. Now, I know beyond any doubt that it's not me. If I'm alone, why would I blame it on the ghost? There would be no point. I would proudly claim them and just crack open the windows.

I have also taken the precaution to note the time and place that this happens to make certain that it is not an odor coming from the outside. The location where I am passing on the freeway is almost always different and it is never at the same time. I have also checked Google Maps and have verified that none of the locations where it happens are around sewage plants or manure facilities.

It's not too bad of a smell so I will endure it. I might name my ghost one day and start talking to him or her. But that brings up another issue. I don't know how to determine if the ghost is a male or female. And yet, if it is a female, that produces another irksome issue: is the odor coming from a fart or a queef?

It perturbs me when others around me use the expressions, "and what not" and, "it is what it is." Both expressions are fairly new expressions that feel like an utter waste of time for me to hear. Whenever either expression is verbalized around me, I automatically think that the person saying it is not formally educated enough or is just trying to buy time to gather their thoughts enough to further engage in a meaningful conversation with me. Either way, I am bothered and insulted. Do you not think I know that you have nothing better to say? I'm on to you, dumb-dumb!

"And what not" is generally used at the end of a train of thought when the speaker wants to express something further but can't because they have a limited vocabulary and/or limited brain-processing power. I wrote a few sketches poking fun at the typical type of people who would use the expression a few years back. But, before any of them could air, SNL had Tracy Morgan play Tiger Woods' Father where he would use that expression at the end of every sentence during an interview. It was classic, to me, because it summed up what I was feeling about the expression. People use it when they want to sound more intelligent than they really are. Especially in the South. And in urban areas.

Accepted, substitutable expressions:
"And so on and so forth" - It sounds more intelligent.
"Yada yada yada" - Seinfeld made it acceptable.

"It is what it is" is a little bit better because its intent is to convey that, "that's the way things are." It means something but it still sounds like nothing. Maybe it's because 40% of the words in the expression is repeated AND both of the words repeated are 2-letter words. It also signifies to me that the speaker doesn't want to engage in any further processing of the situation. It's such a negative yet empty expression. I guess it could be worse. I guess I'm thankful, "it ain't what it ain't" hasn't caught on yet.

Accepted, substitutable expressions:
"Oh well" - It is simple and straight to the point.
"C'est la vie" - It's foreign, which by default, makes it acceptable.

What does this all mean? To make another Seinfeld reference, I am a Word Nazi.

Whenever kids go to sleep at night, normal things by day will often times look scary to them in the dark. A sweater draped over a chair will look like a Quasimodo-like creature. A dresser with missing knobs will look like a disfigured face with menacing eyes that never blink.

For me, this experience was never scary. To the contrary, I used it as a pleasant sleeping aid. I found myself creating stories about the deformed creatures and disfigured faces. The stories would always be similar in nature. These "beings" always once had a great life in some distant, far away land. But due to a hubristic mistake that they made, they were banished to my bedroom as an inanimate object and only came to life in the dark.

Most of them would have enough courage to talk directly to me. They were always insistent that their time in my bedroom was temporary. They would proclaim that they have learned their lesson and would only lead an honest life of the noblest intentions once free. I had poor Maurie for 6 years. He was my knob-deficient dresser.

I never knew when I officially went into dream mode but it was always easy for me to fall asleep whenever I did that. Later on, I would purposely prop things up around my room to create new creatures and faces in the dark for my dreams. My brothers luckily never caught on to what I was trying to do. They probably just thought I was really bad at being obsessive-compulsive.

I caught myself doing this last week when I spent a night at my Pop's. It made me wonder if I should seek counseling to stop this habit. But then I realized that I couldn't because no one would then counsel these "beings." Instead, I have decided to pass this "talent" onto my kids. They will become great counselors to inanimate objects in the dark one day.

Whenever it's the year that you are (un)fortunate enough to have your birthday land on a Friday, you are especially reminded by all the commercials for movies released on that day. It's kinda cool but also kinda annoying.

If the movies released on your birthday are any reflection upon you or the year you are about to have, I'm screwed. The 5 films being released this Friday, January 9th, are an eclectic mixture of films, to say the least.

Not Easily Broken - a husband's love is tested when his wife gets into an accident -- Thank God I'm not in a relationship this year. Even still, I would easily pass this test by getting into an equally disfiguring accident.

Che - A doctor becomes a rebel and then becomes a Cuban revolutionary hero -- That sounds like me. Too bad I have no one to lead and nowhere to revolt.

Yonkers Joe - a scam artist changes his life to take care of his son who has Downs' Syndrome -- This is what I have to look forward to if I continue pretending to be what I am not (I still don't know what that is).

The Unborn - a woman is haunted by a dybbuk, a soul of the dead barred from heaven -- Great. So I have to battle another demon this year.

Bride Wars - best friends battle when their weddings are scheduled the same day -- I cannot believe this opens on my birthday. The redeeming quality about this film is that it stars Anne Hathaway and Kate Hudson, both women who are my type.

Because sometimes I have bouts with my germaphobic side, I have taken particular notice of urinal handles and the fact that most of them are built for left-handed people. Because I am of the majority with my right-handedness, that means it leaves my clean left hand to pull the handle every time.

I guess that's fine but that got me wondering about all the left-handed guys. After they use their dominant hand to handle their business, they subsequently use that same hand to then flush. That means left-handed chaps are contaminating my clean left hand every time I go and flush after I do my business. It's gross when you think about it.

So to battle this, I try to flush using other parts of my body. I've used my elbow which is pretty easy to do. I've shouldered it which is kinda gross because that puts my face so close to it. I head-butted it once but that left a mark. And sometimes, when it's low enough, I can Bruce Lee kick it.

But the best solution thus far is to just not flush anymore.

Another political season has passed and I find myself once again immersed in disappointment. The results of the elections are not what disappoint me. I could care less. It's the fact that another election has passed and yet no one with my last name has stepped up to the plate to run for office.

C'mon! Vo? Hello? It's the perfect political last name. "Vote for Vo!" Is there a better campaign slogan out there? "A vote for Vo is a vote for 'no' against the other guy." C'mon, I can do this all day!

Or even this lame one:
"If you take the 'V-O' out of vote, you have no vote!"

I am so utterly disappointed in my family name and everyone who shares my surname. Out of all the Vo's out there, there has to be one with a clean record and wants to serve public office for the greater good of society. Let this be a cry to all fellow Vo's out there! One of you guys (or gals) run for office! To sweeten the deal, I will be your campaign manager!

If I had a clean record and didn't do all those things I did in the 90s, I would probably run myself. Damn you deadly sins!

In the middle of the day, I sometimes like to just close my eyes. I'm not resting, like what most people would do. I like turn my eyeballs around and take a moment to look back into my brain. If I haven't done it for awhile, there's often a lot of cobwebs all around. I clear the cobwebs away by twitching my eyeballs back and forth quickly. Only then can I see some of the things that I haven't thought about it in a while.

I see a lot of old SAT words I haven't used. I see random trivial pursuit questions and their answers. I see bits and pieces from the old Saturday cartoons I used to watch as a kid. I see a lot of math equations that make absolutely no sense to me now.

The best part is when I get to the back where I see the old memories that failed at their attempts to haunt me. I usually take a moment to laugh at them. I'm sure it makes them feel even more like failures.

I would like to create a universal comment card that I can use for anywhere and for anything. Establishments that generally provide one for their patrons to give feedback usually don't need to because they genuinely care. I need a universal comment card for those establishments that don't provide one at all and need a clue that their service or product desperately requires critique from opinionated jerks like me and my friends.

I would like to take my universal comment card one step further and apply them to current girlfriends, ex-girlfriends, and dates. "Would you recommend these services to others?" Hell no.

I usually get out of the gym pretty late at night, between 1am and 3am. I don't know why but I've taken a notice of businesses that leave their neon "Open" signs on even though it is quite apparent that they are already closed. So because of this, I thought of a really cool game.

Get a group of people and drive around late at night. Whenever someone sees these Open signs on at places that are closed, try to be the first person to yell out, "Open!" And everyone else in the car has to take a drink. However, if the place is actually open, then the person who mistakenly yelled it out, has to take a drink. Also, if the sign is not an actual Open sign but some other sign in neon, then again, the person who yelled it out has to take a drink.

As it is, the game is illegal because when I say drink, of course, I mean alcohol. But, I've changed it so that whenever you're supposed to take a drink, you drink a cup of water. The first one to request that the car pull over so that they can relieve themselves, loses.

Of course, if you pee in the car, you are the biggest loser.

I would like to create a hip, new acronym. It's called, "OIF." It stands for, "Oops, I farted." You can either say each letter out loud or say it as a word. Either way, it sounds cool. "O.I.F." or "oif." They both work.

It's very handy, too. If you just let a silent one go, you just say, "OIF!" It's a polite way to let people know around you that they should vacate the premises as quickly as possible. It's short and to the point. "Hey man, I just let one go. You might want to clear the area," is way too long. By the time you say that, anyone within hearing distance is probably already immersed in your stink bomb.

O.I.F. also allows us to take onus over our farts, too. Too many people just let one go and try to blame it on someone else or act as if nothing happened. That's a sad statement on society. People! Just claim what's yours already. I, for one, am proud of my farts. If I can lay claim to it, I will. I will oif every fart I can: silent, loud, wet or dry. Doesn't matter. If it's mine, I am going to say, "OIF!"

I can only dream of the day when I walk down the street and hear someone say, "Dammit, at least give me a courtesy oif next time!" That is the day when I know I can finally die peacefully.

My Aunt, Anna Pham Thi That, passed away last week. I rarely write about events in my life but I will make an exception this time. My heart goes out to my cousins (Bobby, Son, John), who always mentioned how much they loved my Mother every time we ran into each other. I lost my Mother almost 8 years ago around Thanksgiving. They lost their Mother this year around Mother's Day. The subtle irony in reality, at times, is more cruel and twisted than anything I will ever be able to write.

My Aunt is a great woman to have endured our escape from Vietnam in 1975 (our families escaped together), given birth to eleven kids, and live almost 20 more years since losing my Uncle. By the way, the date format above in the title is the correct way to show dates in Vietnamese. Day, month, year. Makes sense. Small to large. The American way is so mixed up sometimes.

That's not to say that the Vietnamese way always makes sense, either. I just realized that I call my Aunt, "Di Vinh." "Vinh" is my Uncle's name. That's like saying, "Aunt Vinnie." In Vietnamese tradition, we identify the Aunt and Uncle by the Uncle's first name. Never realized that until now. My wifey is going to be known as, "Aunt Pee-tah," to our whole army of nephews and nieces.

My cousins and I haven't really hung out since we were kids. We don't know why but we vowed to try much harder from now on. We would always occasionally run into each other at bars and other "dark places," as they like to describe it. We would buy each other drinks and then part ways. But we would never plan to hang out. I would like to from now on, but mainly because there were so many hot girls at the funeral. I'm kidding! (They all turned out to be related to me anyway.)

I decided a while ago that I will name my first born, "Boss." Being my kid is gonna be tough so he's going to need whatever advantage I can bestow upon him before birth. Giving him a name like, "Boss," will force everyone in his life to call him that, including teachers, counselors, principals, bosses and parole officers. He will automatically be given a position of authority. And it won't be overkill like the names, "Lord" or "King." Now, those are ridiculous names.

What will I call him? As long as he knows who the true boss is (the one that can whoop his butt at anytime), I might call him, "Boss," too, just for fun. But by the the time he turns ten, I will most likely perform an assessment of his attitude and demeanor to see if he will live up to his name. If it's pretty obvious that he won't, I will have to change his name to a similarly structured word. One that also starts with the letter, "B," has a vowel as the second letter and ends in a double consonant: "Butt"

I know what you're all thinking. What if my first born is a girl? Well, I thought about that one, too. I know I can't name her the female "B" word, even though I know she will take after her mother. For now, I will just settle with the female version of boss: "Hillary"

Buying new shoes is a big ordeal. There are many factors to take into consideration when getting new kicks, whether they be for casual, athletic or dress. It's like picking out a potential mate. First, they have to be attractive to you. Second, they have to be comfortable when you put them on and walk around. Third, they must perform well for their intended purpose (yes, this applies to your potential mate, too: fun, sex, money or marriage)

I have one more factor I have to take into consideration when buying new shoes. I call it, "the Asian Factor." The Asian Factor is the abilty for shoes to slip on and off rather fast and easily. Why? Because when you go to visit an Asian household, you have to take off your shoes. I hate being stuck at the front entranceway trying to untie my shoes. I always make sure my shoes can kick right off. That's why I don't wear my boots unless I know for sure I'm not visiting an Asian household. Plus, I like shoes that have velcro or or a quick zipper. Sandals always work, too.

You thought the Asian factor was whether or not the shoes were going to make us short Asians any taller, huh? You were wrong! We're not all short! I got your back, Yao.

On the news the other day, they had the resident "gadget guy" come out and unveil the latest and greatest in technology and gadgets. He brought out a little, portable cell phone recharger that used sunlight to recharge your cell phone in case you were stranded and had no source of traditional means to recharge your cell phone. It had these little solar panels that flipped out like a fan to increase the surface area to capture more sunlight.

He said, "Leave this out in the sun for 20-30 minutes and you'll have enough juice for a 5 minute phone call." The 2 newscasters he was demonstrating this to were impressed. He went on to say, "Leave this out over night and you'll have enough power to last you the whole next day."

No one caught the irrationality, the idiocy. They just went on to the next gadget.

As a gadget guy myself, I am embarrassed and would like to recommend that this guy get his gadget credentials stripped away from him immediately. Make this guy go back to using a sundial, an abacus and a rotary telephone. Maybe he needs to go back to the basics to really appreciate the conveniences of gadgets before he can be allowed to speak of any new ones ever again.

Unless, of course, this guys comes from Alaska, where there are 20 hours of sunlight a day during the summer. Then that would make sense and I would be an idiot.

I always chew gum after lunch everyday. So on my drive back to the office after lunch, the flavor in the gum always runs out at this intersection where I always have to make a left turn. A while back, I started spitting my gum out at this intersection everyday, aiming for the center divider. I didn't realize it at first, but gradually, a big mound of gum started collecting there.

It feels funny to see that mound of gum everyday. It feels like I've accomplished something, like I've left my mark on society. Recently, the mound has grown incredibly fast and there are pieces in there that are not my traditionally-colored gum. I am confident that there is someone or are some people out there who has/have decided to jump on my bandwagon and join in on my artform-in-progress.

Initially, I was upset about it. I stopped spitting my gum out there altogether. I was going to start a new mound somewhere else. But then I realized that the mound continued to grow without me. I grew to accept the fact that I started something that couldn't be stopped. I had the power to turn litter into art.

I must find a way to use this power for good.

When a girl does not want to be disturbed at the gym, she usually wears a cap. The cap is a big red flag to all guys not to flirt with them. They are only there to work out, not make new friends, you perverts. They wear the caps low to block their peripheral vision and thereby also blocking others from seeing their faces. Here's my request: if you're a girl and you're going to wear a cap to the gym, at least be hot.

If you're not hot, then really, you should be going to the gym capless. Any guy who hits on you is a blessing. Don't mislead us by wearing a cap and making us go through all the trouble of trying to get a look at your face only to be disappointed with what we finally see. Oh wait. Did I just reveal that I'm one of the perverts? Dang.

So in conclusion, if you're hot and you want to wear a cap to the gym, we're going to check you out anyway.

Child prodigies suck. They don't ever really accomplish anything. They do something really well at an early age. So what? Why make a big deal out of that? And it's never something that will improve life or better mankind. It's always playing the piano or doing really complicated math. That's nice but we have adults who do that really well already.

They are accelerated through the school systems only to finish earlier than everyone else. Then they sit around twiddling their thumbs until everyone catches up with them. Eventually, they become incorporated with the rest of the masses, never to be heard from ever again. They suck.

Why not force them to find the cure for cancer? Why don't they figure out how to mend the big, gaping hole in the ozone layer? How about a user-friendly utensil to replace all utensils, including the chopsticks? If they can't contribute anything like that, do not give them any special attention and force them to go through regular schools like the rest of us. I imposed it upon myself at an early age. So should they.

There is a beginning. There is no beginning of that beginning. There is no beginning of that no beginning of beginning. There is something. There is nothing. There is something before the beginning of something and nothing, and something before that. Suddenly there is something and nothing, I still don't really know which is something and which is nothing. Now, I've just said something, but I don't really know whether I've said anything or not.

--Chuang-Tsu

Did you just read something or nothing? Before this, there was a beginning. But was it a something or a nothing? You decide.

When I pass away, I would like to leave behind a photo album filled with pictures of me picking my nose in front of famous landmarks, like the Space Needle, the Pyramids of Egypt, the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall of China, the Empire State Building, and the Spearmint Rhino in Las Vegas.

My children will love looking through that. They are going to be very lucky. That's the ultimate inheritance from me.

Some McDonalds and Burger King restaurants have large, intricate playlands. They go up pretty high. Some of them go up nearly 20 feet.

If there are weight and height restrictions barring the bigger kids from using these playlands, how do they test them for safety? With really short people? Or maybe they use stunt kids?

I'm just wondering because I would like to climb up to the very top of one without having a "concerned" parent yelling at me.