Fat Asian Baby

Dear Gentle Blog Reader,

We've been through quite a lot together haven't we? These last two years and eleven days since I first started rambling along here has seen us through winter Upper East Side mosquito infestations, Luke and Leroys, an infatuation with David Foster Wallace, Max Fish, an encounter with Dr. Nicholas Perricone, hipsters, hipster irony, the hipster handbook, post hipster handbook post hipster irony, Orchard Bar, Bush's desire to colonize the moon and Mars, Dark Room, the loss of a drawstring in one side of a favorite pair of sweatpants, FABMommy's untiring antics to get FAB to be less FAT, the introduction of Kevin Federline, the England fiasco, taking Paris by storm, and puking in the very lovely Parisian gutter, les Etages, the adventures at Paris Plage, our move to the great state of Georgia, the discovery of the existence of Peer age Republicans, the Earl, the discovery of seemingly normal people who go into a zombie-like fugue state making hatchet gestures with their arms for no apparent reason, the discovery of personal hygiene products that sound like they're good for eating, Lenny's, the beginning of the abusive iPod relationship, misplacing the gaydar somewhere in midtown Atlanta, the Drunken Unicorn, confirming that long held theory that black people do not, in fact, eat mayonnaise (n=1), Estoria, Britney gets knocked up, PDiddy comes to Atlanta, decrying the incessant 3 am train honking, facing deep soul searching ethical dilemmas regarding Bush supporters and cocaine (separately folks, separately), taking on public art, Tara Reid shows us her sisters, Ashlee Simpson somehow becomes a celebrity of her own right (this transformation actually happened sometime between May and August of 04 because those were the months I was blissfully out of the country), we saw the Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese, and then we ate her, Anna Nicole at the 2004 AMAs, nearly being killed in attempt to return to the Big Apple for Turkey Time, adventures at Marquee in jeans and sneakers with Labyrinth bag in tow, more fabulously stimulating conversation with FABMommy that starts out about the fabulous new development that you can now peel stamps RIGHT OFF the sheet, just like that, and ends up something about how I'm look pretty chunky in the holiday picture maybe I shouldn't be in it next year, the Variety Playhouse, Tom Cruise loses his mind, finds a bride, Newlyweds wed, Newlyweds unwed, Britney inspects her breastesses on the balcony, Vision nightclub, Tara talks about Lindsay who talks about Tara who talks about Paris who talks Lindsay who talks about Nicole who talks about Paris, International Bowl, discussing Judith Butler, post structuralist tension between anthropological theory and feminist theory and how identity politics are so totally 1980s and essentializing and holy shit did you check out that new item at Taco Bell! all in the course of a 3 minutes conversation, Paris Paris gets engaged to Man Paris, Paris Paris gets dumped by Man Paris and immediately replaces him with an interchangeable Greek shipping heir with poor fashion sense, learned about Jesus' dietary needs, continued hatred of Michelle Williams, continued hatred of Feist, Pete Doherty continues to do drugs and then do bad things, JLo loses her relevance, MiMi finds hers, Sienna finds hers then promptly loses it, Lindsay Lohan gets drunk, tackling the Balkans, Boemi, puking all over Sarajevo, City Pub, getting all linky-like, FABMommy pushes the South Beach Diet, FAB faces yet another moral quandry, this one more serious, but alcohol prevails again, iPod wars, iPod truces, fearing the Masquerade bathroom, our jeans are too low, Milk and Honey lives, Angelina is still hot, still being fat and liking bacon and beer, Kimora Lee Simmons still scarily resembles FAB but in a fantastically horrifying entirely lacking in irony and much much richer way, hating Kellie Pickler and all that she stands for, and having many cavities just waiting to be tortured into oblivion, taking new job.

Dearest reader, this may well be my last blog post on fatasianbaby.com. Due to what we hope will prove to be an exciting job opportunity that we'd simply love to tell you all about but can't in order to retain any remaining anonymity the blog still has and more importantly to keep FABDaddy from ever discovering its existence - the man has google and he's not afraid to use it - we can't tell you where we're going or what we're doing, but wish us luck and know that we'll think of you fondly every day.

If you haven't been reading from the beginning, I just left you a sequential treasure hunt of FABisms and posts from the beginning through to the end. If you miss me, a good place to start would be the archives. You may just discover something fantastic there that you've never seen before. FAB hopes that circumstances may allow blogging to resume sometime in some distant future, and not because we're hoping to be fired, but because we've really enjoyed our time here ranting to the nobody that is everybody in the world and we're more than just a little bit devastated to have to say goodbye, my friends, and we'll really be more than just a little bit lost without you. So, it is with a very heavy heart indeed that FAB bids you all adieu and good luck in all of your and all of our endeavors.

Until we meet again,

Fat Asian Baby