Chelsea ( @opensmother-lippedlover ) and I ( @jessjust ) met December 5, 2012 on Tumblr (Yup, I remember dates well). Immediately I noticed how sweet, polite, and interesting she was. We continued to talk here and there, and making our relationship official months later. We dated for about six-months. Initially everything was great, but the long-distance was awful and we were too young to know how to handle it. We called it off. We went our separate ways; fell in-love here and there with other people.
Years later I was working for the Texas Legislature, near done with my undergrad degree, and with the flexibility to move anywhere. I then realized how much I kept thinking about her, wishing to share the precious memories I was making at my job, how supportive and uniquely proud she would be — and truly how much love I still had for her. Not knowing where she was in life I decided to reach out to her, told her how I felt and she left me waiting (lol) Some time later she finally came around and told me she felt the same way. Well the rest is really history.
(The day she asked me to be her girlfriend)
We left Philadelphia and houston, and we moved to Chicago after I got a scholarship at DePaul Law School, and she began her education to become a Veterinarian. Most importantly we created our own little family with our baby Gatsby, a cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Now I’m proud to call her my fiancée. I would give my life for her.
We’ve had bumps here and there like any other couple, but we love each other enough to fight for each other. That’s what’s important. And why I proposed December 17, 2016 at the art institute!
She may still get mad at me when I forget to place the new toilet paper in the holder and I may still get annoyed when she talks through a movie. All in all, that’s what a relationship is about loving each other and ironing out the little differences.
We want to share our little story with details sometimes left out by the media. With our relationship on the spotlight I hope this encourages others to love and work hard for their relationships ❤️ love is out there, it’s just hard to keep.
(This is an old video Chelsea’s dad filmed of the first time we saw each other again after years apart)
More photos of the engagement can be found in our Instagrams: Cnicolem_ and J.essrdgz
“I think that if I had not been Asian, I probably would have a whole plethora of roles, at least to audition for, but it’s just not what has been written” he tells TheWrap
Steven Yeun took a big leap of faith back in 2005, deciding that instead of pursuing a proper — and lucrative — career, he’d instead move to Chicago to try his hand at acting.
The risks here were twofold: First, it is of course remarkably difficult to forge and sustain a career as a working actor — and it is exponentially more difficult to do so as an Asian-American.
Exhibit A: Yeun is one of the most important cast members on the biggest show on television, “The Walking Dead,” and he’s still fighting hard to earn the sort of auditions that reflect his success.
“People ask, ‘So, how are the roles now? You must be getting so many.’ And it’s like, I don’t know if you know, but I’m Asian still,” Yeun told TheWrap earlier in July, laughing. “It’s not a complaint, that’s just how it is now, and I have to forge my own path through it and see that through. I think that if I had not been Asian, I probably would have a whole plethora of roles, at least to audition for, but it’s just not what has been written.”
It almost seems as if Hollywood is going out of its way to avoid Asian actors, when movies based on mangas are cast with white leads (see: “Speed Racer” and “Dragonball”), Asian movies being remade with white actors (“Oldboy”), and white actors actually playing Asians (“Cloud Atlas”and “The Last Airbender”).
Yeun’s first film role, as a scientist and best friend to Michael Pitt in “I Origins,” is a good start. The part doesn’t cast him as a nerdy sidekick, as so many other scripts call for; Yeun’s Kenny is a smart and slick core character who offers a lot of the comic relief in Mike Cahill‘s very serious film, undercutting the self-seriousness that Pitt presents.
The freedom to choose how he’d play a character — in this instance, he wanted Kenny to be refined — is not a luxury that Asian actors often enjoy. So instead of scouring scripts and casting calls for chances to quietly tweak cliches, Yeun is simply developing his own material.
First comes an adaptation of Kang Chol-Hwan's memoir “The Aquariums of Pyongyang,” which among other htings, details the author’s childhood years living in a North Korean concentration camp. Yeun will executive produce and star in the film, playing the author.
There are several other projects in the pipeline for Yeun, as well, early in development.
“We’ve been working on some comedy stuff and in cartoon form, as well,” he revealed. “And then there are some film ideas that have always been batting around my head. I just want to definitely stretch that muscle, because you can’t just wait for other people to give it to you.”
I dare you to tell another story from the apartment
ALRIGHT BOYS GIRLS AND EVERYONE WHO THINKS THE GENDER BINARY IS FOR SQUARES IT’S STORY TIME.
Today, we’re going to talk about the time Paul’s desire for superior firepower turned into a mini arms race that ended with me setting Eric on fire with a homemade flamethrower.
No, Matt Boomer, you sexy motherfucker, I am not kidding you. Let’s begin with some details.
So when I was at the University of Iowa, several people, including myself, bought Nerf guns for impromptu battles in the hallways when we had free time. Mostly this was all good, clean fun, except for two of the guys down the hall, my roommate, and I.
We all thought, rightfully so, that factory built Nerf guns are bullshit. They’re weak, darts are too fucking light, the barrels cause too much friction, which makes them inaccurate and slow, and you have to re-cock them after each shot. That’s some fucking bullshit right there. So we fixed it.
We bought new, higher tensile springs. We bought PVC pipe and lubricant. We put BBs in the tips of our darts, and my roommate and even put in a second spring to automatically cock the gun, essentially turning them from bolt action pieces of shit into semi-automatic friendship-ruiners.
So when I moved back to Chicago, and into the apartment, I obviously brought my Nerf guns (my roommate gave me his when we moved out), and I obviously attacked my roommates the first opportunity I had. OBVIOUSLY this led to everyone buying Nerf guns and modifying the shit out of them.
However, some of us were terrible shots, so certain measures had to be taken to make it possible for them to keep up. Brad practiced in his room every day, Josh built an extended clip for his gun, and Kyle bought the fucking Vulcan and built a 600 dart belt for it because he decided aiming is for people who can’t fire 6 darts a second (he modded it for doubled firing speed using a small car battery and replaced mechanics).
And then there was Paul.
Paul was fucking terrible. Like almost so bad it couldn’t be for real. He once tried to ambush me coming around a corner from 2 feet away and missed by a good 6-7 inches. He literally could have slapped me and he missed. Whatever moving on.
So Paul decides to solve his aim problems in the most Paul way possible: online shopping. He bought 500 foam pellets for a marshmallow gun, two dozen foam discs, and a motherfucking t-shirt cannon.
You see, Paul, much like Kyle, decided aiming was for lames. So he would pour foam pellets into the cannon until it was half full, slip in a disc to keep them from falling out, then shotgun people in the face. I was his first victim and boy let me tell you that shit is terrifying.
So Paul became the big dog in the house during Nerf battles, and the rest of us found ourselves unable to compete. So we all escalated in our own insane ways. Eric and I, the former champions, modified our guns to fire faster, Brad added an extended magazine to his gun, Kyle built a harness so that he could shoot his fucking stupid fucking bullet-storm piece of shit while moving. Josh booby-trapped various parts of our apartment. Suddenly, we were all better than Paul again, so he decided to step his game up.
He started making paper cartridges that would explode open once fired. Suddenly, he could actually fire multiple times a minute, which meant once again, he was at the top. It didn’t help that our reluctance to shoot back out of fear of getting shot was allowing him to take his time, therefore drastically improving his aim.
So we stepped up again. I smooth out the cocking mechanism on my guns, improving my firing speed even faster. Eric adds more weight to his darts, making them heavier and faster and much more painful. Kyle buys a bigger battery, newer parts, and he perfects his belts, which increases his firing speed to 12 darts a second.
So Paul steps up to take advantage of his improved aim and buys something called a Pucker Chucker which basically is a t-shirt cannon except it shoots foam pucks. This means we can’t just shoot at him from the other side of the apartment anymore, so we all step up again. I modify the rail on top to make aiming easier, Eric modifies his grip to make it more comfortable, Kyle and brad modify their barrels to make them more accurate, and Josh jumps on board the crazy train and builds a goddamn under barrel cherry bomb launcher.
And this is where shit starts to spiral out of control.
Brad starts making smoke grenades, Kyle solves his weakness against close quarters combat by using his battery to create a cattle prod to keep people back. Eric breaks the head off an old golf club to use the shaft as a weapon, I put pins in the tips of all of my darts, and Paul realizes that the Pucker Chucker can also shoot real hockey pucks after he steals my bucket of pucks from my room.
So it escalated a couple more steps but I’m going to leave them out partially out of a desire to keep moving forward and partially out of shame anywhoozle when we pull out our final contraptions and modifications that day we shifted from light-hearted fun that was a bit too far to literally combat. Josh had a sword. I don’t know where he got it from.
That battle was terrifying. Our normal fights were like an hour, two hours tops, then we would clean up, get together in the living room with some beers, and laugh about what happened. Honestly we should have known this was going to happen because when we did this after our previous fight, the laughter was less “haha remember when I shot Josh in the butthole? Classic.” and more “haha remember when I missed your face with that puck? Next time I won’t miss.”
So we somehow get into a battle again and this time things go south quickly which is bound to happen when you have a dude in a speedo swinging a sword around while rolling fireworks down the hall. It was literally chaos. There were fireworks and homemade smoke grenades and Kyle made the electrical current in his cattle prod too strong and it was too close to the muzzle of his Vulcan so every few seconds you would just see a flaming dart wiz past and I built a fucking flamethrower and I don’t know what the fuck is going on so I’m just firing it in the general direction of Josh to keep him the fuck away. At some point Brad barricades himself in his room, and so we all run back to our rooms and hide.
We do this for three days. THREE DAYS. I missed classes. We all had junk food in our rooms, and private bathrooms, so that’s what we sustained ourselves on for three fucking days. I, however, try to eat healthy, so I ran out of food almost immediately. After not eating for a day and a half, with food literally less than 50 feet from where I was hiding, I decided that I was willing to risk a trip to the kitchen.
So here’s something important about our apartment: I was the only one who knew how to cook. I had tried to teach the others, but all that had accomplished was several kitchen fires. This meant when Eric also ran out of food, he knew the only way to get a meal was to make peace with me. So he had snuck down the hall to my door, intent on asking me for help.
I did not know he was there.
So when I opened the door and saw a crouching figure in the shadows nearby, I assumed, I think justifiably, that it was the guy who had been swinging a sword at all of us the last time I saw him. So I pulled the trigger on my homemade flamethrower, only to see Eric’s horrified face illuminated by the flames for a split second before they hit his torso.
Luckily, I was using a scavenged fuel source (computer screen cleaner), so the flames were weak, but still fire is fire and fire fucking hurts. So Eric is rolling on the floor with first degree burns on his stomach and chest, and I’m freaking out because Eric is my friend and I just set him on fire, so there is now a lot of screaming coming from the hall.
Now, to lighten the mood slightly, here’s a personality test. You hear the sounds of fire, followed shortly by screaming coming from the hall outside your room. What do you do?
Do you assume the crazy sword guy has finally snapped and is going to kill you all, so you climb out the window onto the fire escape? Congratulations, you’re Brad.
Do you hear the cries of pain and grab a first aid kit before sprinting into the hall to help? Hey! You’re Kyle!
Do you hear the flames so you sprint into the kitchen to grab the fire extinguisher? You are Paul.
Do you come out into the hall to see what’s going on but also bring your sword just in case you have to stab someone? You are Josh and also mentally unstable please put your sword away.
So Kyle comes out and he and I start administering first aid and luckily through a combination of the weakness of my fuel source, how quickly I stopped the flames, and the quickness of our treatments, Eric only gets some first degree burns on his torso. Paul puts out the last of the flames, Josh decides he doesn’t want to stab anyone today, and Brad decides that the lack of screaming is a good thing and he comes inside. I spend the next hour apologizing profusely while cooking everyone dinner, and we decide that hey we should probably have some rules for our Nerf fights to prevent this from ever happening again.
So we all eat, we establish rules about modifications and ammunition, and at the end of it all, we grab some beers, head into the living room, and tell Josh he needs to get rid of the sword seriously dude where did you get that from?
I drove through a lot of states to move to Chicago and I just want to reiterate fuck Indiana oh my god fuck Indiana even Tennessee was better than Indiana I had never been so unhappy in my life what a bad state
Between 1972 and 1978, serial killer, John Wayne Gacy killed at least 33 young men and boys. For forty years, six of the bodies remained unidentified-until today. On July 19 2017, Cook County Detectives finally identified one of the victims as James “Jimmie” Byron Haakenson. He was murdered by Gacy shortly after moving to Chicago at only sixteen.
Thanks to new DNA technology, police were able to identify the remains of the boy, who was found in the crawlspace of John Wayne Gacy’s house. Jimmy was killed sometime in August of 1976.
Did Teresita Basa solve her own murder? Born in the Philippines in 1929, Teresita moved to Chicago, Illinois, where she became a respiratory therapist at Edgewater Hospital. She was known to be a very reserved woman. On a crisp cold evening in 1977, the shrill sound of a fire engine could be heard speeding towards an apartment in N. Pine Grove Avenue.
As they extinguished a fire in 15B, they were more than horrified to find a body hidden under a mattress. They were even more aghast to discover that the body was nude with a butcher knife in the middle of her chest. The body was that of Teresita Basa. After a couple of months, the case went cold. That was until lead detective, Joe Stachula, found a note on his desk telling him to call the Evanston Police Department. When he called, he was told a bizarre story about a Dr. Jose Chua. Jose had told police that his wife, Remy Chua, was possessed by Teresita Basa.
He explained that his wife would go into a comatose state and would claim to be Basa. While this story sounds absolutely ridiculous, Mr. Chua soon became intrigued when his wife blurted out what she claimed was the name of Basa’s killer - Allan Showery. She told her husband that Showery had also stolen jewellery from Basa’s apartment. Police decided they would investigate these claims, even though they assumed it was just fabrication. Lo and behold, it just so turned out that a man called Allan Showery worked with Basa.
Police called Showery in to question him and after catching him in a number of lies, he confessed that it was true - he had murdered Teresita Basa. When police went to search his home, they discovered a number of pieces of jewellery that had been stolen from Basa’s apartment. After pleading guilty, Showery was sentenced to fourteen years for murder and four years for arson and robbery. However, he was released in 1983 after serving less than five years.