Chinese Farmer's Daughter (PG)
A young man was lost wandering in a forest, when he came upon a small house. He knocked on the door and was greeted by an ancient Chinese man with a long, grey beard. "I'm lost," said the man. "Can you put me up for the night?"
"Certainly," the Chinese man said, "but on one condition. If you so much as lay a finger on my daughter, I will inflict upon you the three worst Chinese tortures known to man."
"Ok," said the man, thinking that the daughter must be pretty old as well, and entered the house.
Before dinner, the daughter came down the stairs. She was young, beautiful, and had a fantastic figure. She was obviously attracted to the young man since she couldn't keep her eyes off him during the meal. Remembering the old man's warning, he ignored her and went up to bed alone. But during he night, he could bear it no longer, and sneaked into her room for a night of passion. He was careful to keep everything quiet so the old man wouldn't hear. Near dawn he crept back to his room, exhausted, but happy.
He woke to feel a pressure on his chest. Opening his eyes he saw a large rock on his chest with a note on it that read, "Chinese Torture 1: Large rock on chest."
"Well, that's pretty crappy," he thought. "If that's the best the old man can do then I don't have much to worry about." He picked the boulder up, walked over to the window and threw the boulder out. As he did so he noticed another note on it that read: "Chinese Torture 2: Rock tied to left testicle."
In a panic he glanced down and saw the rope that was already getting close to the end. Figuring that a few broken bones was better than castration, he jumped out of the window after the boulder.
As he plummeted downward he saw a large sign on the ground that read, "Chinese Torture 3: Right testicle tied to bedpost."
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Mundane Journeys through an Amazing World
begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.
My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.
As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.
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