I wonder what dead rocks look like.

I’m not sure what the little misses has in the bag, but if it is what I think it is from the two upper letters, it’s going to be a good Christmas.

Or maybe my it just says “Express” and I’m getting a shirt and a tie for Christmas, again.

It pleases my eyes so much I instantly signed up for eBill.

That means I will have to start using toilet paper now instead of old bills.

But now that the pharmacy is slowing down, I’ve got energy to whip up some cool posts for my cool readers (yep, the both of you).

Cam Ly finally abandons “nhac sen” and returns to what drew me to overseas production in the first place, Minh Vy’s ballads. Her latest release Em Khong The Quen features some spanking new tunes from Minh Vy but with the same old production value as 10 years ago. It’s a good thing because it provides depth and deters from the shallow, cheesy pop songs sung by aphonic 3-named singers nowadays. It’s also a bad thing because it makes Cam Ly sound like an uninspired, blasé housewife desperately in need of hot sex.

Barring 2 tracks, the rest of the album is passable. My favorite is the title track, where she sounds like the good ‘ole Cam Ly at the top of her fame, perhaps due to a tastefully arranged, sweetly executed violin string. In “Cafe Miet Vuon”, she plays the jealous housewife to a tee. Her chemistry with Quoc Dai turns the well versed song into an instant classic of “Giang Cau” caliber.

Em Khong The Quen may not be Cam Ly’s strongest release and offers nothing new. But having Minh Vy at the helm, it still delivers with 1000% more depths than most of the pop albums out there.

Just the other day, a nurse called back saying that a “foreign” guy had left her a message about a patient.

Like Stewie’s cool whip, I cannot, for the life of me, pronounce correctly the word “January.” It’s embarrassing really. When possible I try to avoid using the word entirely.

Patient: What do you mean my prescription has expired?
Me: It was written at the beginning of the year. It’s only good for 6 months.
Patient: When was it written?
Me: At the beginning of the year.
Patient: What month?
Me: The first month.
Patient: First month? But I saw Dr. Smith in February. Was it written in February or January?
Me (dammit): Jan-yoo-ree.

I may get embarrassed, but I am never ashamed. If anything, it is that very accent that links me back to my homeland.