apologies for the long delay in posting. I think the worst is behind me. Having two kids is like working in the ER, 24 hours a day. Everything is an emergency, every mess is epic, and there are some smells I wouldn’t even tell my pastor about. Add to that finding clients and a place to live, and I’m a full-blown nutcase.

San Francisco is part of the United States, but one can get by here without speaking English at all. My Cantonese has really helped my search for an apartment, as many landlords are Chinese. More on this in its own post, but have any of you read “the Good Earth?” They get off on the “Real Estate Times.” It’s like a Hustler mag to them.

So these numerous Chinese landlords now have the unenviable task of negotiating rent with hordes of frat boys and hippies. They usually delegate this task to their eldest child whose English is functional. But it’s still a pain in the ass. So when a clean cut guy speaking mainland Cantonese shows up, I’m like the son-in-law they never had. This doesn’t, however, help me with ponying up 2300 a month to live in a shanty so my wife can be within walking distance of someplace that sells pig face and shrimp scrota and “carbon burns the black bowel.” Sigh. Let me count to ten.

There is much Manglish to be found here - in Chinatown, Japantown, and even in the parking lot of Rite-Aid. Did someone go to community college? If you’re having trouble finding the error, just enjoy the rest of my webcite.

The ultimate Manglian - this mofo has been showing up protesting randomized words for like 20 years. Now people buy advertising on the back of his sign, and they opened a club on Mission street named after him, “12 Galaxies.” I wonder if he’d like my webcite.

When in Chinatown, don’t neglect to look up. What you see on ground level is for the tourists. The real life here happens in the alleys, underground, and on the second floors, where you can hear MahJong at all hours, see people hanging clothes to dry (isn’t this 2006?) and, as here, see people curing meat in the exhaust fumes of the busiest street in the city. Tastes like turn signal!

Manglish will always live where people learn English half-assed. This may include most American middle-schools. Where the fook is my rice?

If I ever open a restaurant, remind me never to put the illegal alien waiter in charge of signage.

This is not Manglish. It just struck me how on the left, “Shredded Abalone, Shark Fin, Dry Scallops & Shredded Virginia Ham in homemade sauce over fried rice” equals 9 Chinese characters, while “ling cod” equals 6.

I can’t use this doord? But it’s just a “warning.”

Superman and Batman were DC. Spidey and Hulk were Mavel. A double faux pas.

Pretty sure this should be MICRO SKATES. for finger.

One thing Manglish loves is punctuation. Come. Right on. Join Us.

not mangled, but a hell of a thing to find written near a Jr. High. Especially when they’re all armed.

Manglilocks and the three Beargs.

Bought in Hong Kong’s Women Street. The sequel to the Da Vinci Code should definitely include this shirt.