Irregular pains, Bruce Lee and arabian food gone asian

I wake up to a bewildering scream only to look around with no one in sight then suddenly realizing it was me. Uncalled for I take a deep breathe when all of a sudden a sharp striking pain shoots through the left side of my chest through to the right as if lightning had struck. I start grabbing my chest while I pound my head against the wall hoping the pain would cease but no, it refused to leave and continued to tickle me from the inside.

Hello and welcome to my Sunday morning.

Remarkable as it seems, the doctor has no idea what it is I have. He's on the edge of sending me to the psychiatric ward because he can't find anything wrong yet I keep insisting there's something inside of me that doesn't like me.

Speaking of which, I don't know if it's just me but every time I think about something that makes me depressed I feel an intense pain in my left outer thigh region. The more depressing the thought, the more intense the pain becomes. I can't explain how this occurs though, whether it be hormonal, pre-blood clotting or the possibility of pre-cancer induction it all seems to lead to horrendous. If you see me suddenly punching myself in the left thigh, I am just trying to get rid of the pain which oddly enough works for me.

Anyhow after the church service today, the middle aged women [in Vietnamese] decided it would be fun to all take turns in which person I look like. First it was all within reasonable parameters.

"You look like your father. So very innocent."
"No actually more like your mother."
"Hang on doesn't he look like a mixture of both?"
"Nah he looks more Chinese though. Do you have a girlfriend yet?"

Then it slowly starts becoming ridiculous..

"Hey he does sort of look like his grandma though. The Chinese part and all."
"Or perhaps Japanese?"
"Or dark Korean. Remember when he dyed his hair blonde?"

Mind you I am just sitting down minding my own business waiting for my mother to finish writing some mail so I can go home. Fast forward 10 minutes of talking about their own hairstyles, my mum decides to join in and you start hearing more and more ridiculous comments like,

"You remind me of that martial arts star."
"Who Jet Li?"
"Yeah him. Wait not him who's that guy?"
"I think he looks like that guy from My Sassy Girl."
"Oh have you seen that as well?"

That film has been dubbed in Vietnamese. It's a spinout watching their mouths shut while some random vietnamese dribble comes out. Outrageous.

"Oh hey he looks like Bruce Lee."

Dude what? WHAT? Bruce Lee? I don't even have those sideburns anymore. What? Bruce Lee? I can't help it but just smile and just nod and laugh. But damn you don't hear me saying, "Oh hey maam, sorry to say this but you have a face that reminds me of a ghost." Which of course is make-up related, but that's another story.

I gently smile, politely ask my mother to stop embarassing me and to finish up so we can all go home.

We pick up random food to eat and at home we end up eating some absurd mixture of lebanese bread with what I think is tabouli but with soy sauce, cucumbers and some green herbs. As I sat down on the front porch wondering what possessed my mother to make such a concoction, I notice in the corner of my eye a kid punching himself in the left of his thigh while screaming out in agony holding his chest with the other hand.

What a fucking retard.