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I was sitting at the bar one cold winter's night, staring down into an almost empty pint of Guinness. Swirling the glass, I watched the remaining fluid climb up the side of the glass revealing an empty bottom underneath. Empty. Empty. Empty. Just like my soul. At that point I realized there has to be something more. Something to fill ones life. I needed to find it.

I picked up my pile of money from the bar and dropped down a couple of ones for a tip. Quickly I shrugged my jacket over my shoulders and walk out into the midnight cold. The winter's chill immediately cleared the vapor in my head, allowing me to think clearly. I stood outside the bar for a few minutes thinking of what I needed to do next. Where should I go? Who should I go to? And then it hit me. I needed to see Master Hung Lo. It was off to China Town.

I walked up from Old City to China Town, letting the fresh winter air clear my head. The walk was invigorating and I was almost sober by the time I got into the heart of China Town. Now I needed to find Master Hung Lo.

I searched almost every alley and was about to give up when I saw a rustling in the garbage pile to my left. I walked over to the pile and started to poke at the empty 40's and garbage bags when a garbage bag to my right moved and a voiced cried out: "Who there?" It was Master Hung Lo.

"Master Hung Lo," I said, "It's me Nutty."

"Leave me alone," cried the voice.

"But master, I need your help," I said.

"Me no help. Leave me alone," said the voice.

"But Master Hung Lo, I seek your wisdom," I said.

There was some shuffling under the garbage and then a moment of silence. "You have offering," asked the voice.

I reached into my inner jacket pocket and pulled out a Forty of Michelob that I picked up earlier. "Yes," I said.

The garbage heap exploded as Master Hung Lo jumped out of the heap and grabbed the brown paper bag from my hand. He unscrewed the top and place the bottle to his lips and drank furiously. With his thirst satiated, he sat down in the garbage and asked me what I was seeking.

"I have such an emptiness in my life," I said. "I need to fill it."

"Life is about Wang," started Master Hung Lo. "The eternal Wang stands straight above all things. Without the Wang there is nothing. With the Wang there is nothing. The Wang is within all, and outside all. To get in touch with Wang, one must grasp Dong for it is through Dong that one achieves the Wang." At this point he took a long pull from his Forty before continuing.

"The path of reaching the Wang is very long. Along the way you can be lead astray by Boo-Tay. You must enjoy Boo-Tay but not give into it. The battle with Boo-Tay strengthens Dong, leading you towards Wang. If you're Dong is weak, you will be consumed by Boo-Tay and forever be its slave, whipped so-to-speak. But if your Dong is long and strong you will rise above Boo-Tay and when you achieve Wang all the Boo-Tay will be yours to command."

"But Master," I asked. "What is the truth about Wang?"

The old Master leans over and signals me to come close. I go close and the stench of urine and stale beer on him almost makes me hurl, but I stomach it.

"The secret to Wang is secret to life," chuckles the aged master.

"Do you know the answer," I asked.

"Of course," says the old master with agitation in his voice. "I am Hung Lo, master of Wang with long Dong."

"So what is it," I ask.

"it's . . ."

" . . . it's . . ."

" . . . it's"

"Wang Chung tonight. Everyone Wang Chung tonight," says the old man.

So to help me find the Wang, Master Hung Lo taught me the Accidental Oriental Oracle, I Wang Chung. Night after night I returned to Master Hung Lo, each time with a 40, a bottle of Mad Dog, or a bottle of Thunderbird and Master Hung Lo would give me a piece of the I Wang Chung. After 64 visits I had the wisdom of the I Wang Chung.

After years of practicing, I am now a Master of Wang and now I bring the accidental wisdom to you all.

"Wang Chung tonight. Everyone Wang Chung tonight."



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