Monday, December 31, 2007

Shit List

Similar to the doughebaggery, I'm adding people to my shit list.  Here are some new additions in no particular order. 

1.  Three Doors Down.  Yeah, we all loved Superman, but keep that awful song about joining the army the hell away from me when I'm at the movies.  I don't need to watch the full video before the previews start.  I'd rather watch those god awful body spray commercials they used to show.  And that's saying something.  

2.  Anyone one who works at The Apple Store, ESPECIALLY those smarmy pricks behind the Genius Bar.  Have you ever had a conversation with any of them?  First of all, it would help if you had a few drinks before you talk to these cock bags, but no, the genius bar is too smart to serve alcohol.  They want to look down at you for asking them questions, after you waited in line for about 35 minutes.  My friend Margot asked an employee (not a genius) a simple software question, and they guy was like "how can you not know this!?!?!?".  In the words of my stock broker...what a dick.  

3. The Patriots.  Yeah, 16-0* but just as evil as the Dolphins.  Fuck the pats.  

4. The Host at Nookies Tree.  (Yes, unfortunately it's actually called that)  That asshole gave us one of those over sized beepers that buzz you when your table is ready.  He promised us a "ten minute wait", never buzzed us, then crossed us off the list.  Congratulations.  You're a shitty host.  That's why I stole your beeper.  

In other news, I just finished watching Sicko.  It's damn good.  Check it out.  

*You know what the * means, Belichick.  

Friday, December 28, 2007

Close Game

There I was, in double overtime, down by two points. Rush is well guarded. Chalmers hands the ball off to Robinson for a wide open 3. He misses it. Kaun grabs the rebound and calls time out with 4.7 left on the clock. He’s been getting blocked all night inside. Too risky to put it back up. I pass it in to Rush, who drives, then kicks it out to a wide open Case in the corner. He buries the triple as time runs out. The Kansas Jayhawks stay undefeated.

Quite an exciting game I played last night against Boston College. I’m a few games ahead of the real KU in my season. I’m of course talking about the video game College Hoops 2K8, but stay with me.

If I was watching this game in real life, I probably would have shit my pants. KU was down by 3 in regulation, and Rush sends it to OT. Similar scenario in the first OT, but Chalmers was the hero. In real life, I hate overtime to begin with, because it’s so risky. You don’t want to see any mistakes.

The question is this: Do we want to watch our team just CRUSH their opponent, or do we secretly want a close game, with that last second shot, knowing we have a chance to loose. The latter of course does make the game more exciting, and you can enjoy the victory a lot more. I think it depends on the circumstances. If your favorite team is playing their bitter, evil rival, (I don’t know who is more evil than Mizzou) and they just murder them from the start, that’s exactly what you want. It’s bragging rights, it’s revenge, it’s fun to watch the entire game, even when the scrubs take the court. Everyone is pumped up, even when they are up 100-34.

Of course, no matter who your team is playing, you immediately hate them until the game is over. At least I do. So in that case, you always want them to win by 73. But, the truth is, as long as they win, it can go to quadruple OT and it’s fine by me.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Diver down

I like Scuba diving. I haven't been in over a decade though. I've thought of going while here in the Philippines, since the diving is world-class and all, but I don't have my certification card here, which presents a problem. I did go snorkeling, and it was cool, and it reminded me of how much fun diving can be. It struck me, why haven't I been diving in so long?

Well, let me introduce you to the second group in my series on douchebaggery - divers. They're awful. I'd forgotten how annoying they are. At the beach I am at right now, divers are the primary clientèle. Divers, like hikers (another group that can annoy me) get up needlessly early in the morning and then finish what they are doing at like 2 p.m. Why? Why go diving at 8 a.m. when you will finish with 4 hours of daylight left? Why not start at noon for sleeping purposes? This is vacation, right? Well, at 2 p.m. when the divers are done for the day, they drink. To the point of drunken embarrassment (and consider the source here) by 4 or 5 p.m. Every single one of them also wears a stupid "Turd River Dive Shop" or some such T-shirt, in case people couldn't tell they were divers, in case the fact that they only talk about diving and can't stand upright by sunset doesn't advertise this point enough.

When I started diving in the early 90s, I thought it might be an interesting way to meet girls. Oh, no. Not even close. Your average female diver makes your average Western female English teacher in Korea look like, I don't know, who's hot today to complete this analogy, um, a Barker's Beauty? The worst part while diving, you become excited to see a manatee, only to discover that it's just a female diver.

Anyway, Merry Christmas to you all. It's 1:20 in the afternoon on Christmas Day in the Philippines, so I need to buy a bottle of rum before the divers get back to keep my sanity.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Last night a DJ ruined my life

Okay, so I've been in the Philippines for 4 days, and I have lots to write about it. For starters, here in Boracay, there's more tang on sale than I've ever seen in my life. Surprisingly, I don't mean whores, I mean the ghetto astronaut drink. It's everywhere. There are convenience store signboards just announcing: TANG! While I haven't partaken yet, there's only so long one can go without indulging in the homeless man's Kool-Aid.

Anyway, I want to start a running series on, for lack of better term, douchebaggery. I must ask, is there a field more full of douchebags (not counting suburban police and mall security) than DJs? Is there a less educated/less talented person that could have more effect on your life in certain situations? I mean, these are high-school dropouts with czar-like power over a given club. Granted, I am not talking about high end DJs that are good at what they do, and often work at the top clubs in LA, Vegas, Chicago, New York, London, Paris, Berlin, Moscow, and Tokyo, nor am I talking about the up-and-comers working in lesser lights anywhere from Seattle to Stuttgart to Seoul. I am talking about the 99% that work in the clubs that you (and when I'm slumming it, me) may actually go to.

Why is it so easy to hate DJs? Well, first off, they all dress the same. Same tilted cap (and almost never one of a sports team, but of some bullshit snowboard magazine or something), same tank top, often an NBA jersey, same overly baggy track pants or jeans. This is true of all DJs, be they black, white, hispanic, or Asian, despite the fact that none of the white, hispanic, or Asian DJS are actually cool enough to pull this off.

Of course, their greatest crime - playing horrible music. Like, only top 40 or shitty mainstream hip-hop. I was at a club last night during happy hour, and they were playing cool, original laid back trance/house type of shit. Music you really won't here anywhere else. I returned to the club later at night, and it was just shitty generic Beyonce and other really boring mainstream shit, music that even as you here it for the first time, it seems familiar. I left immediately. I went to the club next door, which was showing a Rod Stewart DVD. I mean, Rod fucking Stewart. Yet, the people in the club seemed to dig it, though I didn't. Then, they muted the DVD and the DJ started playing - the exact same songs as the club next door. Only the bartender's glacial closing of tabs slowed the exodus to the door.

I'm just saying - DJs - you have an easy job. A really easy job. 5 years ago, the job consisted of changing cds, now its a matter of clicking a mouse. Is it so hard to play something decent that the club next door isn't playing?

By the way, when's the last time that you had a really good time at a club with horrible, unoriginal schlock playing?

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Dry Heat vs Dry Heat

I’m waiting at my gate for a flight to Arizona. The flight’s delayed, of course. Mine always are. The one good thing is the flight is not full. In fact, there are no B’s at all. No middle seats necessary.

I take a look at the gate next to us. They are overbooked. It’s the Friday night to Vegas. In their waiting area, there are guys in suits, girls in dresses, everybody ready to go out. Laughing. Excited. All of them attractive, young, and every ethnicity is represented.

I take another look at my side. Lots of old white guys either asleep or reading the paper, all wearing a holiday sweater.

The Vegas side is dressed to go out as soon as they land. They’ll probably get the party started in the air. ipods and Sunglasses. No one’s going to bed any time soon. In their immediate future, I see cubes of ice with the last remains of their first drink. My immediate future? Working, on my own stuff, which is good, but not nearly as fun or exciting. I’m watching the people at the gate next to us thinking about the time they are gonna have vs the time I will have over the next 72 hours.

Wouldn’t it be nice if you could change your mind after you went thru security? If your boarding pass would get you on any plane? Hmm...San Diego sounds better than Cleveland. Ship it. I don’t know if I’ve ever been to the airport and not wanted to change my destination. The option you don’t plan on is automatically more adventurous.

In fact, I think I’ll slide over and join the party. You can find me at the Mirage. Just ask for Joe Kickass.

Afterwards

So, on Monday before we left, I ended up being forced to go to the University of Arizona’s campus, and if that wasn’t bad enough, having to go into their gift shop. But, fret not, my friends. I was prepared. I had on my blue KU shirt. I made sure to unzip my hoodie so everyone could see it. How foul is that? I got a bunch of strange looks. Honestly, I can’t believe nobody said anything…actually, what could they say? “You guys suck…at 10-0…after beating us…yeah…”

Rock Chalk, baby.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Economy Plus (or my announcement)

United Airlines, my hero of the skies (not sarcastic, I love United) created a new class of service a couple years ago. They call it “Economy-Plus.” Basically, it’s a coach seat in the emergency exit row with twice the legroom of a regular coach seat. Most airlines have extra legroom in the exit row due to logistics, but United further extended that legroom and created a sort of half-coach, half-business row. For a couple hundred dollars extra (or a couple $10 extra, depending on the route) United fliers get a lot more room to stretch out, and can take advantage of the business/first check-in line at the airport. But, no entry to the business/first class lounge at the airport, no free booze on the flight, and the same food that coach eats (assuming food is served) are the drawbacks that make this a half-way endeavor. From a business perspective, I can understand United’s reasoning here. I could also understand why a passenger may wish to indulge in this product.

Yet, I would never fly in Economy Plus. Why? Because it’s mid-range. I don’t believe in mid-range. Usually, you end up paying too much to get out of the low-end with too much of the low-end bullshit involved. So, I fly economy, or business (rarely), but never Economy Plus. I don’t stay at Holiday Inn or Raddison or the like. I stay at the Super 8, or Motel 6 or some lower fleabag, or I stay (rarely) at the Ritz. I drink rotgut store-brand liquor (some of my favorites include Jewel Premium and Commander) or I drink Grey Goose. I never drink Absolut or Johnny Red. I’d use a beer example here as well, but that would imply that Budweiser or Coors or whatever is of higher quality and taste than PBR. It’s not.

This has long been my philosophy. I am not one for half-assing it. I’m of the opinion that, while there are many flavors to life, most can fall into two categories: sustenance and living it up. As I have never been a rich man or a successful man or a smart man or a handsome man or - wait,, what was I talking about? Oh, yeah. Due to budget constraints, I generally opt for the sustenance option, but if I am to occasionally splurge, I do it right. I feel no need to frequently eat at the Applebee’s of the world when I can stick to Taco Bell most of the time (dear god how I wish that were a valid option here) and occasionally hit up, I don’t know, Charlie Trotters.

What does any of this have to do with right now? Well, not half-assing but instead, I don’t know, none-assing and full-assing goes beyond the economic realm as well. It also involves major decisions on my horizon. This, combined with the cold weather and thus lack of convenience store table to booze and write at, has played into why I’ve been shunning this blog the last few weeks. My contract ends, for all practical purposes once vacation time is considered, in 2 days. Thus, I am faced with a pretty big decision on what to do for winter vacation/2008/the rest of my life.
I saw my options as 4-fold. I could renew my contract with my school and go on vacation somewhere in Asia for shits and grins, but not go home for another year. Or, I could go “home” for a couple weeks, back to the land of my roots -Lawflortimorgo. And yeah, I hate those commercials too, but a two-week trip to the States demands stops in Lawrence, Florida, Baltimore, and Chicago. Or, I could take my free plane ticket home that I would get for quitting my job, bum around the aforementioned 4 places for 3 months or so (in the dead of winter) and get a new job in Korea in April or so. Finally, I could leave Korea entirely, so I could settle down in the city of X, drive a brand-spanking new Y, and work for the fine people at the Z corporation.

I’ve made a choice. Options 2 and 3 are off the board, because those are the half-ass options. And because Option 4 is both too much of a stretch and also too much of what I always do - raise up stakes and move somewhere new- I’m looking at option one now. I’m sorry to everybody I wanted to see and everybody I love, but it just seems like it makes the most sense to skip going home. So, I’m going to go to the Philippines ( a place where the Ritz costs 70 bucks a night) so I can sit on the beach and drink 30 cent beers. And, to take a proper vacation for the first time in forever, one that isn’t just 4 or 5 days. I hope you aren’t mad, and that you decide to come visit. I’m always open to visitors. Plus, I should be totally rich, so if you come out here for a visit, I’ll buy you tons of beers.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Not Arm Out. Arm in.

That’s how my friend Armin told me to say his name when I first met him in Baltimore. I spent one year in Baltimore, and it was a strange, yet essential time for me: The first year out of college. Living at the parent’s house. Moving somewhere with no friends, no school, and no job, but a lot of ideas.

I interned at a great theatre, but was working for peanuts. Made just enough to shoot pool and go to the bar on dollar bottles night. Through somebody I worked with, I met a group of about ten kids that had nothing to do with theatre, and loved to go out. Half of them lived in a big Convent, where the best parties were, and by the end of my year in B-more, I had my own room there. I hope my picture is still on the door.

I planned on leaving after a year (to get my shit together, is what I kept telling myself) and I’m glad I stuck to it. More than a year at the Rent’s house would not be good for anybody.

It’s always weird to re-trace your steps, and think how things happened the way the did. If I wouldn’t have interned at The Everyman Theatre, I never would have met all the friends I made. Almost everyone I knew left Baltimore at the same time, and a lot of the connections I made died then, except for a few emails. Aaron is still here, Adam’s not far, and it was good to see half the crew in Chi-town last year, but I have no idea what Mikey or Vanessa are up to these days. I’ll have to visit Ross and Armin out west soon.

Of all the people I met, Armin and I stayed in contact the most since our time in Charm City in 2003-04. Since we are both writers, (him novels, me scripts) we decided to collaborate on a project years ago. I think in 2005, Armin came to Chicago and the project was born…

Shit…Blogs are supposed to be short. Stay tuned for part II. While you’re waiting, please enjoy some shameless self promotion.




Tuesday, December 4, 2007

My 2 cents

On Kickass's last post.

1. I beat Grid Irony also. Too bad my team is absolutely terrible and pretty much squandered a playoff spot.

2. No Mizzou. Good times. But, I also have nothing more to say here.

3. The Kansas basketball Jayhawks have just beaten 2 solid teams, and with our two best players injured. Just sayin.

4. Um, no question on the evil factor between Arizona and USC. USC could beat Notre Dame for the next 100 years (and may well, it seems) and that still won't be anywhere close to the 1997 KU-Arizona game, which was unquestionably the most painful and evil game in the history of sports. That game was far worse then the Lin Elliot game and the Bartman game combined. Lute Olsen and his great hair can go to hell. That said, USC certainly gained some evil points by signing Lil' Romeo.

5. I watched the end of the Monday Night game. I don't like the Ravens, and I have roto interests on New England so I don't despise them this year. But I have to say, since not a single sports writer has (including in the Baltimore Sun) - The Ravens got jobbed. They made plenty of mistakes, which is going to happen with Kyle Boller under center. But, the Ravens did stop the Patriots on 4th down THREE TIMES during the course of New England's winning drive, and each time the refs found a reason to overturn the play. The last call, on 4th an 5 or whatever with 30 seconds left, the illegal touch call that gave New England the first down seemed to be a very ticky-tack call, and not one a ref should make in such a situation (the closing seconds of a close game.) Of course, it's in the league's best interest for the Patriots to win, undefeated teams get huge ratings since everybody wants to see them lose. Maybe the ESPN announcers somehow made sense out of these calls, but watching the game with Korean announcers, all I had to go by was what I saw.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

There is a God

1. Missouri will NOT be going to the National Championship game. That's all I have to say about that.

2. The KU Basketball Jayhawks defeated Arizona in OT to remain undefeated. We have the equally if not more evil USC tomorrow. Let's roll.

3. Speaking of OT, last week the Bears beat one of the evilest teams of all time, the Broncos. Now we have to crush that pip-squeak Eli. He just looks like he needs a good ass kicking. I hate that guy. And his brother. That's right, I said it. His commercials suck too. I might have to see what Dark Tag can do with it.*

4. I beat Grid Irony. Many of you won't know what that means, but the few that do understand.

*In case you missed any parody vids, check out my YouTube page in the Links section on the right.

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Riding That Train

And I'm not talking about the El.

There's something about traveling on a train. I don't know what it is, but I like it. Though I don't believe I've written anything astounding while riding a train, I always feel it's a possibility. Like writing and train rides go together for some reason.

I like the fact that they never got rid of the conductor hat. Sure, it's silly. It's something your dad wore when you played with your model train set, but dammit, it's tradition. I also feel it has to be cold outside to make it real. When you walk from the gate to the train, you have to feel that cold air. It's more romantic that way. Other things I like:

1. Every seat has power outlets. Awesome.

2. You can sneak drinks on board. Or other things, if you so desire.

3. You don't have to wait for the train to reach it's desired altitude before you turn on your electronic devices.

4. It's usually not full, so you can stretch across the two seats.

I've always wanted to ride a train with no real destination in mind. An open ticket, if you will. Ride for a few hours, get off at some random stop, in a small town no one has ever heard of, and check out their newspaper. Catch some local flavor, then hop back on.

Right now, I'm facing backwards (as most of the seats are), so I'm watching the past in the present. In honor of that, I'm listening to CDs backwards.

Wait...Paul is dead?

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Don's old



Video I made last week, for my buddy's birthday and to try out the video production capabilities on my new computer.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Stock Broker

Here's what I think of my Stock Broker.




And here's what She thinks of hers.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Stop

Before I get to the exciting elevator blog (you know you can’t wait), I wanted to talk about a more serious issue – The Bus Stop. Since I’ve been working a day job, I wait at the same bus stop every morning, around the same time, give or take. Naturally, you start to notice the same people. But what’s really weird, is that these are the exact same people who waited with you for the big yellow school bus when you were a kid.

The cast of characters is all there. The rich kids, wearing their thousand dollar suits. The girl that really shouldn’t be dressing herself yet. The guy that looks a little bit too old to be in your grade, but he’s still wearing a backpack.

I’m not sure where I fit in. I think I’m somewhere in-between the awkward girl with glasses and the computer geek that needs to get a teen movie make-over so he can become the quarterback of his high school football team, and therefore, sleep with all the cheerleaders. Then we would only be missing the class clown, but no one ever says a fucking word to each other anyway. Who wants to talk in the morning?

Friday, October 26, 2007

DMZ/North Korea pics


The building is on the North Korean side, a couple KPA (Korean People's Army, or North Korean soldiers) and some obviously high ranking dude in a suit. Can't quite tell, but one of the KPA's rifle may be pointed right at me.


This guy is South Korean Military Police, and hard to tell by the pic but probably 6'6. I didn't want to move in any closer for the picture. This is the room that straddles the border between north and south. The soldier is standing right on the line, I am north of him, technically in North Korea.


The door to North Korea.


The world's tallest flag pole. Good thing it was a windy day, apparently the North Korean flag weighs 600 pounds. This is the "Propaganda Village." None of the buildings have windows.


The MDL, or border proper. The small concrete divider between the buildings marks the border. The soldiers are South Korean. Like I said, I was hoping to see the classic stand-off I'd heard about, but the KPA border guys must be on break. In fact, the South Korean soldiers are only right on the border like that when there is a tour group.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

El Baño

Something just isn’t right with our bathroom. If you ever find yourself on the 15th floor of our building, pee elsewhere. Trust me. The following stories are true.

1. The weird guy in the stalls.
So, there I am taking a wiz, when all of the sudden I hear this faint, but familiar music. There is some dude in the stalls behind me listening to his iPod so loud that I can hear it clearly. And he’s playing Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing. What better song to listen to when you’re on the pot?

2. There’s an old guy, wears a suit everyday, who pee’s on his shoes. We have no idea why. He doesn’t accidentally miss. He literally does this everyday, at the same urinal, whenever he takes his first trip to the John. I don’t know. I call number 2 Insane guy who pees on his shoes.

3. I’m in the bathroom washing my hands, and some guy in a stall pulls out his cell phone and makes a call. This guy is doing business on the shitter. The only people allowed to make calls in this situation are mimes.

4. The guy that always takes the middle urinal. Look, do we really have to go over this again? There are three urinals, the middle one is only there for decoration. It never gets used. This isn’t a bar at 1:56am. Use the stalls, or wait it out. And, no, there aren’t “privacy walls” in between, but God Bless the man who invented those.

What’s really strange is that people will come to our floor just to use the bathroom. You see them get off the elevator, hit the head, then get back on the elevator. Stay tuned for my next blog: Elevators, and the idiots who ride them.

I’m serious.

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The DMZ is our home

Last weekend, I finally made it to Korea's number one "tourist attraction." The world's most fortified border, and easily one of the strangest places on earth.

The Seoul USO office and the bus to the DMZ was surreal on it's own. Not only was it pretty much all white people, it was pretty much all Americans. Being on a packed, I don't know, 70 person bus where 80% of the passengers were Americans and English was the only language being spoken was definitely strange for me. Plus, while my people, English teachers, were certainly well represented, the bus was chock full of middle aged people from places like Atlanta that were in town for reasons other than teaching English, and were staying for periods considerably shorter than one year. People who didn't even know what bibimbap is, based on conversations I over heard. Bibimbap, by the way, is an extremely common and tasty rice dish. It's like being in France and not knowing what a baguette is. I dare say, maybe even actual tourists. I've been here over a year, and it's the first time I've ever seen one. It didn't make me homesick.

The DMZ itself - something else. 6 foot 6 South Korean soldiers at the border, wearing cool Ray Bans at all times, fists clenched. The North soldiers weren't around, at least visibly, at the immediate border, but I'm fairly certain that they were around somewhere, guns trained on my tour group.

The DMZ is 4 kilometers wide, 2 km per side to the actual border proper, ie, the MDL, or Military Demarcation Line. Within the DMZ itself, but a little bit away from the border where the soldiers were, there are two villages, one on the south side, the other on the north side. The southern village has a few houses, actually American-suburban looking houses, where the small, government subsidized population lives. The south side villagers are all farmers, and they make something like 80 grand a year tax free, but when they farm, there are armed soldiers (US and Korean) with them on their fields at all time to defend against a northern invasion. The southern village has a 100 meter tall flagpole donated to them shortly before the 88 Olympics. The other village, predictably, is on the northern half of the DMZ. It is known as "Propaganda Village" in the south, largely because the northern village is uninhabited. There are some buildings that look like apartment blocks, but when viewed with binoculars, it becomes clear that none of these buildings have any windows. This village, not to be outdone by it's southern counterpart, built a 160 meter flag pole, the highest in the world. That's 525 feet. The village is known as Propaganda Village, by the way, because it used to broadcast North Korean propaganda via loudspeaker 16 hours a day or so. The north also use to have a number of signs on the mountain faces saying things like "Follow the way of the Leader" and stuff like that, and the south likewise had a number of lit up signs promoting democracy (The north never lit up their signs, because, you know, power shortages). Sadly, both sides agreed to remove their outward, intrusive propaganda two years ago. I was really looking forward to seeing that.

At the end of the tour, we saw a fairly hilarious Korean-made video. It was in English, and the narrator sounded like a native English speaker, but it was still full of terribly put together and likely mistranslated lines such as "The DMZ is our home." It also made reference to the natural aspects of the DMZ (which is a true statement, a 4 km wide swath across the peninsula, most of which has had no human contact in over 50 years) but went too far, saying that a visitor to the DMZ can see "extinct species." After hearing that, I was really pissed that I didn't see a stegosaurus.

More to come later on this, along with some cool pictures.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Not That Kind of Green

So, I’m walking to work from the bus this morning when it happens again. A bearded man with a green tie-dye bandana approaches me. Now, my mp3 player is broken, but lately I have been wearing the headphones and just faking it, but today I forgot.

Bandana: Hey, another fellow environmentalist?

Me: No.

Bandana: No? Don’t you care about the Earth, man?

Me: Get away from me mother(earth)fucker.

That’s a mix of what I actually said, and what I wanted to say.

The problem with these jerkoffs, well, one of the problems, is that there is no doubt in my mind if I actually gave them money in the morning just so they will leave me the hell alone, another one is going to approach me at lunch.

“Care about saving the planet?” Yes, but I’ll do it my own way. I’ll throw away my trash. I’ll recycle. I’ll go to Bonnaroo. But I’m not giving some guy on the street a dime.

It’s probably not a scam, but I don’t know where that money goes, and I don’t care. If I give anyone on the street money it’s going to be someone selling me a streetwise. Not some asshole who is trying to look dirty because he is “one with nature.”

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Fauxlorado

A couple more notes on the baseball playoffs:

I’m extremely happy about the current national backlash toward Dane Cook. I, for one, hated him before it was cool. Some work buddy at Sprint showed me a clip of his on the interweb years ago, saying check out how funny this guy is. I was instantly repulsed, and haven’t wavered since.

I still hate the Rockies. They aren’t a real team, and don’t come from a real city. Buddies of mine back home, like Daniel and Toast are apparently huge supporters of them. Big shock. It’s getting to be impossible to argue with Daniel about sports, because he hops on the bandwagon of contemptible teams every season, because he will like “the style of play” or “the way they play the game” or some such horseshit. That’s simply not what sports are supposed to be about. In 1987, Daniel and I had a wager on a Browns-Broncos game. He had the Browns, I had the Broncos, in a game that turned out to be Elway’s famed “Drive.” I had no particular ill-opinion toward either team, as I hadn’t yet adopted the Chiefs at the time and thus had little regard for the AFC. The sides we chose were based on Daniel’s unconditional hatred of the Broncos. I asked Daniel why he hated the Broncos, and he said it was because he hated Elway. I asked him why he hated Elway, and he said it was because he hated Elway’s hair. So, I verified, you hate an entire franchise due to one man’s hair? Yes, he said. This seemed ludicrous to me at the time, but it turns out Daniel was right. Elway had ridiculous hair. But he wasn’t an asshole, and the Broncos by extension evil because of his hair. No, Elway had ridiculous hair because he was an asshole, and he was employed by the Broncos because they were evil. But the end result was the same, and Daniel’s original statement was a true one.

So really, I don’t understand this “liking the style of play” thing. Like everybody else, I adopt teams in the playoffs in most leagues most years, as my teams tend to be pathetic and don’t make the playoffs to begin with, and lose in the first round if they do. But style of play can only be one consideration in these adoptions. You also have to consider what sort of fan bases these teams represent. And when it comes to, say, the Red Sox or Rockies fan base, I want no part of it. Plus, despising entire cities of teams and fans is part of the fun in sports. The Rockies winning would make Bronco fans happy, and thus me angry.

Lastly, my buddy Jack emailed me a pretty good take on the baseball playoffs, which I’ll now get to:

"wait, they play baseball in colorado now? i guarantee you no one living in boulder is aware of it. and moreover, todd helton is a baseball player? i was always sort of under the impression that he played tennis or something - one of those random names on sportscenter that you hear but don't pay much attention to, and aren't really sure what they do, like texas tech football, ultimate fighting, soccer,  rutgers, old dominion, virginia com monwealth, any professional hockey team located in the confederacy, and the seattle seahawks.
 
look, i know that boston fans are annoying. but can you imagine rockie fan right now?
really?"

Go Cleveland. I guess I have some connection to them this year, as they are the only team alive that I don’t loathe, and that my fantasy football team is called the Cleveland Steamers.

The Lone Talker

So, I’m in line for Potbelly’s the other day. Great Sandwiches. Next time you’re in Chicago, check it out. Anyway, in the loop, there’s always a long line, even though there’s a Potbelly on every corner. To speed up the process, they ask you your order way before you get to the counter. (the sandwich does have to go through a toaster, after all) They ask me what I want, I shout my order. That’s how it works.

They ask the woman behind me what she wants, she says she’s not ready. Then, she says, to no one in particular “I’m not going to yell my order.”

I never know what to do in these kinds of situations. Is she talking to me? Is she talking to the guy behind her? Was that meant for the cashier? I have no idea. She’s just throwing dialogue out there, hoping it will stick to something.

I chose to ignore it, and act as rubber to the floating dialogue (monologue, really). If I would have agreed with her, perhaps I would have given an awkward sympathy laugh, or an acknowledging head nod. But, it’s potbelly downtown. You yell your order so you don’t have to wait as long. That’s how it is. Don’t try to drag me into your monologue when I don’t agree with you.

She looks at the menu. “Do they have any salads?”

Now, there’s no way she thought I was listening. I gave her no indication I wanted to be part of this. I don’t know what to think of these lone talkers.

Situation 2. On the train to the airport. Some dude gets on, it’s 5:00 on a Friday, the train is super crowded. Dude squeezes his way to the back of the train where we are, gets settled, says “It must be that we’re all tired from work, huh?” A bunch of blank stares, a few people look around “Is he talking to me? Is it my responsibility to bounce some dialogue back to him?” My answer: only if you agree with them, and the point they’re making isn’t completely obvious. He might as well have said “I’m a dude on a train.”

Lone talkers, at least make an interesting point. Then you can get an obligatory smile, nod, or, if you’re really lucky, a little dialogue.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Eighth Grade Man

It’s occurred to me that a buddy of mine here has been reverting to or has fully reverted to junior high status. I’m actually a bit worried about this. I know the cat is young, a good couple years younger than my brother, and he was not alive during the peak of the Michael Jackson / Thriller era, which I have memories of. Still, this could happen to you too. Lets look at warning signs that your buddy may also be stuck in eighth grade-

1) He is “dating” a girl that he has never kissed.

2) He ditches his drinking buddies to stay home and talk on the phone to said girl (again, that he has never kissed.)

3) When he does go out drinking, he is guaranteed to get a call from said girl and to be on the phone for at least 20 minutes.

4) When he is hanging out with friends and not on the phone from said girl, he is texting her every 14 seconds. By the way, I don’t get this new-fangled “texting” thing. I use the text messages, more so here because I have a ghetto pre-paid phone and outgoing calls are like 30 cents a minute. Still, I don’t converse with the texts under any circumstances. If I have a “text” conversation that requires me to send more than 2 texts in a 10 minute span, I’m on the verge of throwing my phone against the wall. If I have to convey something to somebody else that requires more than one text, I fucking call, cost be damned.

5) He is actively pursuing a long-distance relationship of horrendous inconvenience. The last time this should ever happen in somebody’s life is the girl in freshman year of college who has the boyfriend back home. Everybody knows there are only two results for this. Either she transfers school at the end of the year (or more likely at semester break) or she cheats on him and they break up. Yeah, this isn’t junior high here, but by sophomore year of college, the “long distance relationship” types fall off the landscape. And at least those freshman year girls lived in the same town as the boyfriends in high school, they didn’t actively pursue someone who lived out of town from the get-go. Like I did, in junior high. Or like my buddy does now. I’ve literally chosen not to call girls I’ve met here because they live in a neighborhood that requires a subway transfer.

And, on the non-girl tip:

6) He is trying to organize his friends to talk shit on a buddy’s Facebook “wall,” (by the way, I don’t like Facebook, it seems like the official social networking sight of 13-year-olds to me) which seems pretty much like the classic junior high girl style slambook. (and yeah, I’m aware of the vague irony of making fun of my friend on the interwebs right now, but it’s my fucking blog, not his “wall” that I’m doing it on, and also, you’ll notice I haven’t mentioned any names).

7) He is currently reading “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.”

So yeah, I’m annoyed I guess. I am looking forward to his moving on to tenth grade. At least then he’ll have a later curfew and we can talk about “The Catcher in the Rye.”

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Where art thou, Neighbor?

Firstly, we have a new feed on the blog, so you can now SUBSCRIBE! Check out the column on the right and subscribe to an RSS feed or receive Email updates. If anyone wants to help promote the blog, let me know. I have a little banner/button for you.

Now that the business is out of the way, it appears my loving neighbor has moved out. The last time I saw him was a few weeks ago, carrying things down the hallway, starting straight ahead, making sure not to make eye contact with me (the devil).

I thought it was just me he hated since I was the one who tired to talk to him in the elevator, but Michelle said she saw him in the hallway by herself, smiled, and he pretending like she didn’t exist. Now, I know what you’re thinking. This guy hates all people, he doesn’t believe anyone exists. Wrong, I would say. On the bus, he sometimes sat with the same girl, and they would talk (rather loudly) the whole ride. This guy has the weirdest voice ever, by the way.

Since then, he has not been seen or heard of in my building or on my bus. I guess I’ll never know what the bastard had against me. But I like to think, in the long run, I won and he lost. He moved because of me, no doubt about it. Chalk one up to the good guys.

And Chalk one up to KU Football for being ranked higher than USC.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Dear Dick

Dear Dick Stockton:

Please leave Chicago, and never come back.

You are BAD LUCK to Chicago Sports. Anytime I am watching the Bears, Cubs, Bulls, Blackhawks, or Fire on TV, I don’t want to see your face or hear your voice. You bring the worst luck an announcer has ever brought to a Chicago team.

Exhibit A: The Cubs. Here we are in September, kicking ass, winning the division, enjoying the games with Len and Bob…and then, all of the sudden, we’re in the post-season, you take over the play-by-play, and the Cubs go to shit. And every single time that lead off asshole on Arizona was up to bat, you brought up the homerun he hit in Game 1. Thanks, for that. I really wanted to remember that moment over three games.

Exhibit B: The Bears. The Bears come off a great win in Greenbay, we seem have things under control against the Vikings…then I notice who’s announcing the game. Minnesota comes back, Peterson rips us apart, and Longwell hits a filedgoal with no time on the clock to win the game. What’s that, Dick? Oh, that field goal he kicked was a new record for him? Great! You must be so happy for Longwell!

Dick, you and Longwell deserve each other. A cursed sports announcer and a washed up kicker.

In closing,

F U, Dick.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Spectacles, Testicles


It’s weird. I’m 26 years old, but I still have a third grader inside of me.

I recently had to start wearing glasses. In fact, I forgot them today, and I’m straining my eyes writing this. Glasses are so simple, yet amazing. My eyes slowly got worse over the past few years, but it’s amazing to see the difference on what I can see again that I forgot about. I can read small street signs from way further way, and even the TV is much crisper. I’m sure glad my girlfriend was still hot!

In the past, the only glasses I’ve worn were Sunglasses, which I would take off as soon as I stepped indoors (unless I’m with my Aunt Gin, Jack Nicholson, or at the final table of a poker tournament, in which case, ship it.) But it just felt weird to leave them on walking inside a building. The first few times I walked into a store, I took them off out of habit.

The first time I wore them to work, I was self conscious. It’s completely ridiculous, but it’s true. I knew nobody was going to point and laugh, or call me four eyes (I wouldn’t care if they did) but it felt like the first day of third grade, when I parted my hair on the left instead of the right. Eight solid years parting it on the left. I was due for a change, but I was worried what people would think. That was a major fashion change, and I risked eating lunch at the cool table.

The other thing that’s started to happen, is consciously noticing people with glasses, and wondering when they had to start wearing them. It’s almost like a club, like Larry David is in the bald club. One of my best friends and roommates had glasses in college, and since I met him post-glass, I never pictured him any other way, even when he wears contacts. Strangers who wear glasses look completely normal because that’s the first time you’re seeing them. My issues come from 26 years of not wearing them.

I hope the glasses community welcomes me. I already got my invitation to our first meeting. And I know there are a few imposters out there, wearing glasses with no prescription because it’s cool to look dorky. They, like guys who choose to shave their heads, are not members of the club.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

A Foo Finish


The Foo Fighters new album, Echoes Silence Patience & Grace, is a must buy.

The single that came out before the CD was okay…but you have to hear the complete story. They are just so good at finishing a CD all the way through. In many CDs of bands I love, you get to about tack 8 or 9, and you find yourself changing the disc. The Foo Fighters are so good at finishing an album (kind of like how the Bears were good at finishing the Packers) you can listen to it more than once and continue to be surprised by great track after track. “Oh, I forgot about this one” is a very common phrase.

There’s a great mix of their hard rock badass style, and some amazing acoustic guitar songs, and, they even mix those together in a great way.

Check it out.

Sunday, October 7, 2007

Lost in translation, indeed

I gotta say, Japan is something else. Definitely a strange and different country, and I already live in a strange and different country. A couple random stories:

After landing in Tokyo and getting to the station where I had to change trains (and rail networks, requiring me to go outside) I saw a really hot girl, wearing a really short skirt, calf-length boots, and one knee pad. Just one. This was in a non-hip neighborhood at like 3 p.m. It was cool.

Once I was outside, I decided to smoke a quick cigarette. Smoking in Japan is basically the opposite of the rest of the world. Restaurants don’t have smoking areas, you can smoke anywhere, even in McDonalds and Starbucks. But, you can’t walk and smoke outside, there are designated smoking areas outside that you have to stand by. While smoking my first non-airport cig in Tokyo, I stood next to a large ashtray that had a “Smoker Team” logo on it. Just then, a minivan pulled up with the same logo, and two guys wearing matching “Smoker Team” caps and polo shirts hopped out and proceeded to change out the water and remove the cigarette butts from this large ashtray with the efficiency of an Indy 500 pit crew. Within 43 seconds or so, they were back in the van, on their way to the next stop.

Strangely, I didn’t eat any sushi on this trip. I know, I know, you can’t go to Tokyo and not eat sushi, right? But, I’ve had sushi in Japan before, so there was no novelty in it, and there’s a sushi place across the street from my apartment in Seoul, so it’s not like it’s hard to get. I did eat Japanese food, including an awesome beef and rice bowl that I am unaware of the name, as the restaurant had no English whatsoever. I also had pub grub, Haitian, French, and Mexican, all of which is much harder to come by in Seoul than sushi.

This could be a separate blog, but the Rupungi (Tokyo’s main club district) bars and clubs were chock full of security personal and touts, which are two concepts I just don’t understand. This is hardly a Japanese phenomenon, but it just doesn’t make sense. If I am in the mood to go to, say, a dance club, or a titty bar, or a bar, and some guy comes up to me in the street and says hey, come to my establishment, and attempts to give the hard sell to get people in, what are the odds that I am going to said establishment? I’d say zero. I don’t want to go to any club or bar that sends people out to the street to harass people. Security is another matter. One dance club that we did go to was chock full of security. If you go into a dance club, and there’s tons of obvious security guards walking around, do you feel more or less secure? I’ve only been to one club in Seoul that goes this route, and its also the only club in Seoul where I’ve ever felt less than secure. I had one beer and left, and I haven’t been back. This just seems like really faulty marketing to me.

I went to a Japanese baseball game, the Yomoyuri Giants (Ichiro’s old team) and that was pretty awesome. Much better skill-wise than the Korean league, and way more people in attendece. Of course, tickets and beers cost the same as in the US, so that was less fun. Easily the most hilarious element of the game is that the seat vendors, including the ones that carry 5 gallons or so of draft beer in a backpack, were all cute 90 pound Japanese girls. And, there were probably 100 of them there, and they all seemed to be really excited and happy to bring me and my buddy beers, despite the fact that the stairs were steep, the backpacks heavy, and we were sitting in the nosebleeds. I still can’t get my head around this. In Japan, there’s no tipping, so I can’t understand why these girls were so eager to haul 50 pounds of beer up to row 37 or wherever the hell we were.

Also confusing - I stopped to get a coffee in some high end coffee joint in Ginza, which may be Tokyo’s highest-end neigborhood. Playing on the sound system in said coffe joint - Gretchen Wilson’s Red Neck Woman. And the clientele seemed to like it. A song about shopping at Wal-Mart (which I don’t think makes Gretchen Wilson a redneck, by the way, I think it makes her a dumb cunt) at a high end coffee shop in the high rent district next to the Fendi store. In Tokyo.

Wrigley is Dark


The first pitch of the game was a homerun, but not for us.

The Cubs made it so far, and were red hot in September. To watch a team crumble like that, especially in our house, was awful. It's really depressing actually. Yeah, last year they finished in last place in their division, and this year in first, but hopes were so high in Chicago. Walking around Wrigleyville 5 hours before the game started, people were excited. This town was on fire. High fives in the street- everyone smiling. By game time we were so fired up, the game was already won in our minds. But, the baseball gods had other plans last night. They wanted the other team to celebrate on our field.

Next year, it will officially be 100 years since they've won a World Series. That could make a good story...

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Part Set

Part III - Korean Baseball

Teams that are RIGHT:
Kia (Gwangju) Tigers - Really, the team I randomly decided to like, mainly because they have the hottest cheerleaders.
Doosan (Seoul) Bears - Gotta go for a hometown team.
LG (Seoul) Twins - But, I have no loyalty here, so may as well go for both hometown teams. Tehy play in the same stadium. If one of them played on the north side of the river where I live, I would certainly cheer for that team wholeheartedly and hate the other one. The knock on this team - they're called the Twins, and I really don't care for LG products.

Teams that are OKAY:
Hyundai (Suwon) Unicorns - I mean, they are called the Unicorns. That's just hilarious.
Hanhwa (Daejon) Eagles - I really don't care about this team at all.

Teams that are WRONG:
Lottte (Busan) Giants - I'm just jeolous that Busan, Korea's second city with 1/3 the population of Seoul, seems to draw more fans than the Seoul clubs.
Samsung (Daegu) Lions - The Evil Empire of Korean baseball, they have all that Samsung money.
SK (Incheon) Wyverns - Everybody who has played Dragon Warrior knows it's always bad when a Wyvern draws near.

That's it. that's the whole league.

Part Deux

Part 2. Pro Baseball.

Teams that are RIGHT:
Chicago Cubs (Obviously.)
Kansas City Royals (I think they give you ten bucks and a free hat if you go to a game. It was also the first stadium I ever went to. And they beat the red birds in ‘85 for the series, straight up.)

Teams that are OKAY:
NY Mets (The correct team to cheer for in NY, as long as they are not playing the Cubs)
Baltimore Orioles ( I have to admit, I like the stadium and the tradition. Plus, the team is not a threat to any of the above.)

Teams that are WRONG:
St. Louis Cardinals (Pure Evil.)
Boston Red Sox (after spending time in Boston and seeing 96% of people on the T wearing “B” hats and talking like dickheads… and really, I just hate New England fans. I think my friends Jay (due to his terrible Boston accent) and Alyson (due to her love of sports) are the only exceptions.)
NY Yankees (If you hate the Red Sox, you have to love the Yankees right? Nope. I’m sick of them. And Fuck Johnny Damon and his Yanks haircut.)
Arizona Diamondbacks (Their fans are really old and have no tradition. I’m sure you can guess why they made the list. And it's too fucking hot to play baseball in Arizona. What's that? Oh, you can close the roof? Oh, well, why don't we just sit inside and play house all day. Idiots. Goats willing, they'll be done soon.)
Chicago White Sox (I don’t like when their fans infest my neighborhood bars, just looking to talk shit. Guess what? The Cubs won the series.)
Florida Marlins (Florida should retire as a state. And the fact that they beat the Cubs wasn’t Bartman’s fault. There. I said it. Can Dick Stockton stop talking about it now? “With five outs to go…” For Gods sake, I’m trying to watch the game.)

Baseball Playoffs

Ah, baseball playoff time again. Or, as I know it, the sports gods’ annual middle finger at me. I must have been a 1920s Yankee fan, or maybe I was in fact Shoeless Joe Jackson in a past life. Clearly, I did something to piss off the baseball gods, which is probably why I’m shackled for life to the Royals and Cubs. Not surprisingly, the ball always rolls back down the hill before I get to the top.

A brief and recent history for the recent baseball playoffs: Last year, against all odds, St. Louis won. Prior to that came the White Sox, the Red Sox, the Marlins, the Diamondbacks, and the Yankees (11 times or whatever). Every possible way to piss me off, the baseball god have found it. Unquestionably, my favorite World Series winner in the last 15 years has been the Angels in 2002, who I am completely indifferent to. Really, I’ve learned that the best baseball result I can hope for is mild bemusement.

This year, I am obviously cheering for the Cubs, and everything else is secondary. But, secondarily, the playoffs couldn’t have started worse for me. Cubbies lose, of course, but so do Philly and the Angels. I care about one of the 8 teams in the playoffs, and I can tolerate 3 others, and I despise 4 of them, and I am positive that all 4 teams I hate will win, and the two LCS Series will do nothing but piss me off.

Basically, I have little doubt that Boston, New York, Arizona, and Colorado will be advancing. I hate these teams, but for different reasons. My hatred of the Yankees, of course, needs no explanation. My hatred of the Red Sox, well, really that should require no introduction either. The Red Sox are really the exact same thing as the Yanks. They have more money than everybody else, and spend like drunken sailors overpaying for schmoes like JD Drew simply because they can afford to. I’ve felt this way about the Sox since well before their World Series, though I certainly hate them more since then. Sox fans were insufferable assholes before 2004, now they’re cocky insufferable assholes. I hope that if the Cubbies ever win it all that we never become like Red Sox fans, and that everyone who’s ever so much as changed planes at O’Hare doesn’t decide to write a book about the Cubs championship. So in a way, I almost hate the Sox more than the Yanks, because at least the Yankee fans are aware of their own evil. What I fear most in the AL is the seemingly eminent ALCS between these teams. Which will mean, 6,000 some miles west of LA, I still won’t be able to get away from this shit. Sports columnists that I enjoy and read religiously will abandon the NFL for 2 weeks and talk about Sox-Yanks exclusively. If this series happens, I might have to do the unthinkable and boycott espn.com, si.com, and others the whole time. By the way, I go to espn.com no less than 11 times a day.

On the flip side, I hate Arizona and Colorado for entirely different reasons. On top of that, I also hate the Diamondbacks and the Rockies. Mostly, I hate them because these are not real teams, and they don’t play in real cities. Denver and Phoenix are both places that nobody is really from, largely because both cities were founded some time in 1974. And, of course, both are 1990s expansion teams that came to be since the Royals’ last playoff appearance. These teams also violate several cardinal rules I have for liking a team. I don’t like any team that has existed for less time than I have. Also, I don’t like any team from Denver or Phoenix. And finally, and this corresponds with both rules, I don’t like any team named after a state rather than a city. Minnesota started this trend, but for years it was only them. Also, the Minnesota teams get a pass, because Minneapolis and St. Paul are similar in size, if not fame, thus it’s sensible there. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like the Vikings or Twins, but I can tolerate their existence. But, it seems most recent expansion or moved teams tend to adopt this state model. I presume it’s because every city that matters already has a team, so the cities that get expanded to now have less cache in their name. That, or these new teams are founded by assholes. There is no excuse for teams called “Arizona” or “Colorado” because there is no St. Paul to Denver or Phoenix, Denver and Phoenix are the only “cities” in these states. Of course, the Carolina Hurricanes and Panthers are even worse, since they won’t even say which Carolina.

So, since the baseball gods hate me, we’re heading toward a Boston-Phoenix or a New York-Denver World Series. That, or the baseball gods will decide that this is the Cubs’ year after all, being that I live 14 time zones from Wrigley rather than 4 blocks away. Fuckers.

Monday, October 1, 2007

For Titles Sake

It’s time I gave it to you straight. These lists are in no particular order. Okay.
Part 1. COLLEGE.

These schools are the correct ones to cheer for.
The University of Kansas
Emporia State University (though I expect them to win, but always fun to watch, and yeah, I know, Leon Lett went there.)
Notre Dame (only in football…well, that and badminton.)
Dartmouth (come on, give them a chance to win the Ivy League like they deserve)

These schools are Evil, and wrong to cheer for:
Syracuse
USC
North Carolina (obviously)
Duke (who doesn’t hate them?)
Any team from Florida, especially the Gators. KU Still has the last laugh on the Gators, by the way, beating them when they were number 1.
Missouri
Kansas State
Penn State (mostly because it’s in a town called University Park…idiots)
Yale (I partied in Cambridge, I didn't want to get out of the car in New Haven)
Washburn (that’s right, they made the list, the bastards)
Princeton (ever met anyone from there? I bet they were smarmy)
Ohio State (that's right, I hate THE Ohio State University)
Michigan (even though they had the fab five, but they hate Notre Dame. I have enough sense to hate them back)

Pretty Bad, but not entirely evil.
University of Wisconsin (Madison…fuck the badgers. They always screw up my bracket. And their fans are annoying.)
Any school in Texas (don't deny it)
University of Arizona (she knows)
UCLA
UCONN
U of Maryland (I just don’t like them)

As usual, the bad guys outnumber the good guys. But, now that you know which teams to cheer for, keep fighting the good fight and the good guys can win.

Friday, September 28, 2007

One Year

So, it’s been a year, as the title indicates. As of only a few hours ago, I’ve been in Korea for one full year. Which means a few things, I guess. Lots has changed. Lots hasn’t. I spent my first night in Korea in a shady love motel, and thought that I was in some sort of Seoul red light district, due to the fact that my hotel came equipped with an abnormally large number of massage oils, condoms, and two crappy porn channels. I’ve since learned, of course, that this was simply a yogwon, a small family run motel, and that such motels are almost as ubiquitous in Korea as are internet cafes or convenience stores. As for that red-light area, it turns out my motel was actually in one of the highest-rent districts in all of Korea, a 20 minute walk from Apgujong, Seoul’s (and really Korea’s) land of Prada and Gucci stores. Of course, when I first got here, absolutely nothing made sense, ever. Now, I would say, I can generally go at least an hour on most days without being completely bewildered by something.

Am I where I want to be? I signed up for a year, so this seems like a good time to, you know, take stock. There are many positives. I can read Korean script (slowly). I know enough Korean to order at restaurants without an English menu. I can order a beer at a working class dive. I can direct a cab. I can’t have a conversation, by a longshot though. Oh yeah, positive. I can tell the difference between good and bad kimchi. I’m pretty adept with the chopsticks. In a crowning achievement, I once placed a take-out order for a pizza over the phone only in Korean, though it may have only worked due to the fact that the pizza place may have recognized my voice, and I always get the same thing anyway. I’ve paid off my credit card debt. That’s a big one, I guess, and a major reason I came here. I’ve also, including coming here, been on 13 different trips, which is especially impressive considering how little vacation time I’ve had. Yeah, some were day trips, but I’ve been on 8 overnight trips and 7 that involved airplanes (on 4 different airlines). My bigger trips were to Hong Kong, Bangkok, and Tokyo, which isn’t too fucking shabby. I’ve had, by Chicago in 2005 (or, who am I kidding, 2002-2006) standards, astronomical success with the ladies. I had the longest successful pursuit of a girl in one night of drinking in my, or maybe anybody’s life - 12 hours. I had the shortest successful pursuit of a different girl in a different bar in my, or maybe anybody’s life - 10 minutes. I have some good friends here, which I suppose is what matters most. I bought a computer. I wake up at 12:47 p.m. every day, which is certainly a perk. I’ve had, almost undoubtedly, more nights where I was out, not just up, but out, until well after 7 a.m. than I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been to two Disneylands. I’ve climbed two mountains, one twice. I had, unquestionably, the best spring of my life (by the way, best fall - 99, best summer - 92 or 99 or 02, best winter - 05-06 or 96-97). Despite drastic information and time zone disadvantages, I made my fantasy football league’s playoffs last year and I’m first in my division so far this year. I’ve become respectable at darts. I write, which was one of the top three reasons I came here to begin with. My last year in Chicago, I never wrote a fucking thing. I don’t sell phones. Lots of times, I actually even enjoy my job, there’s some awesome kids. Also, there’s chocolate-covered sunflower seeds. I just discovered that 10 seconds ago at the convenience store patio I’m writing on. And yes, they kick ass.

There are, of course, plenty of negatives too. The most glaring, of course, is what the hell I’m going to do when I’m done with this. This is really a whole other blog, but I still don’t have a clue. Suggestions are welcome. I also don’t exactly have a nest egg, not that I thought I would. Lack of easy every day life (familiar cable system, unencumbered communication with locals, decent record stores, food that isn’t Korean, McDonald’s, or pizza) certainly wears on me. In that same vein, the two biggies for me in the food realm - lack of Taco Bell (or Mexican food in general, other than 2 places an hour subway ride away) and the epic quest necessary in order to acquire an overpriced bottle of ranch dressing. Vast distance from friends and family, particularly right now while my grandma is ailing. That’s definitely a big one too. Paying double US prices for simple commodities like jeans and shoes. The never-ending foreignness. By this, I mean, France was foreign, but one I got a decent haircut and some cool French clothes and knew may way around and understood the subway, French people would approach me by speaking French, and would only realize I was foreign by my dumbstruck look or piss-poor broken accent. Here, there’s nothing cosmetic that can be done. My foreignness is pretty fucking evident the second I walk into a room. That’s definitely an Asia thing, but I think a Korea thing more than anything. Though I can’t speak or read a word of the local language, I feel much less foreign in Japan, Thailand, and Hong Kong than I do here. The only reason I can think to explain that is that Japan, Thailand, and Hong Kong have lots of western tourists and quite a few western immigrants. Korea has zero. Korea has English teachers and soldiers. Oh, and let’s not forget the still massive language barrier.

Still, It’s hard to say my objectives here haven’t been met. I came here to pay off my credit card debts, to write, to travel around Asia, and to have some cool girl adventures. Really, check, check, check, and check on that tip. Had things worked out according to plan, I should actually be on a plane home, literally this very minute. My buddy Don asked me earlier tonight if I wished that I were in fact on that plane presently. I didn’t have an answer. Which, I guess, means no. Maybe it’s because I don’t have everything figured out yet. Maybe it’s because I think the extra 3 months of pay will make a big difference. I can certainly say this - if I were on a plane right now, that would mean that I would have stayed at my original school for a year rather than changing three months in. And, though being forced out of my old school (via conspiracy, really) seemed like a crushing setback at the time, it’s the best thing that could have happened. On my list of positive things, every single one of them applies to the last nine months in Nowon, and I am sure my life would have been exponentially worse had I stayed at my old school.

Sorry about all the introspection here. Next time will either be good old dick and fart jokes or strange shit I saw in Japan.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Half Your Age + 7

So, on the bus Friday morning (everything seems to happen on the bus) this couple gets on. The girl: 25, tops. The guy: 55, minimum. He could have been 65. I don't know. But they were obviously together. I mean, I expect that kind of shit in Texas, but on the bus to downtown Chicago? It threw me for a loop. Now, I was always told growing up (I actually don't remember who told me this, maybe some drunk on the street) that the youngest person you could date was half your age plus seven. So, in my case, 26, I could date a 20 year old. I don't by any means swear by this rule, but it makes more sense than an old man with a chick my age.

I think just about every girl I've been out with dated one guy that was a little bit too old for them at the time. Why did you date a 27 year old when you were in High School? What the hell was that guys problem? Can you imagine dating a teenager now? I mean, no way I'm buying wine coolers.

Also, I've been meaning to pimp my friend Armin's blog. He's a great writer, and fun to read. Read all about his trip from New Jersey to California on a bicycle here: http://dirteatersanonymous.blogspot.com/

I'm in the Steel City until Monday, so until then...

Go Bears. Go Cubs. Loose Brewers (sorry Moods).

People I can do without

(with apologies to George Carlin for the title)

I saw a guy in Bangkok, a cliche backpacker walking around with clothes that it looked like he made himself. He looked like an asshole. Worst of all, he was carrying a diggery-do. What the fuck? You can’t buy those in Thailand, and he clearly wasn’t Thai, which means he’s actually carrying a fucking diggery-do around with him on his trip. A loud six foot long wooden instrument that cannot possibly have any practical value other than to let people see that he has a diggery-do. It reminded me how much I hate people. So, here’s who I can do without at the moment:
-Diggery-do guy

-Anybody who is not in fact an Aborigine that owns a diggery-do, or at least anyone that takes it out of their house.
-White guys with dreadlocks

-Asian guys with dreadlocks

-Girls with dreadlocks. Sorry Megan, but this is just a bad look.

-Really, anybody with dreadlocks that isn’t an ethnic Rastafarian Jamaican.

-Any guy over the age of 11 that wears a tank top, wife beater, or sleeveless shirt of any kind.

-soccer. As mentioned before at Myspace.

- Canadian rugby fans. Look, Canada, I thought we had a deal. When away from North America, you guys stick to real sports, and don’t fall into the “international” (i.e. British) sports scene of soccer, rugby, cricket, and other crap like that. I saw a bar full of Canadians watching rugby the other day, and I was horrified. Listen, Canada, you stay away from the bullshit British sports, and we won’t fold the NHL. Deal?

- Creative arty types. This could fall in with the diggery-do guy department. Not all creative arty types, mind you, just most of them. The ones who subsribe to the bullshit “artist” lifestyle. The most creative, artistic people I know deliver pizzas, work construction, drive busses, sling phones, or tend bar. Plus, they are capable of carrying on a long conversation about sports, and can drink copious amounts of cheap beer.

-People that dress like idiots. 99.9% of people in the world fall within a normal enough range of dress that they don’t look like assholes, and are pleasingly instantly forgetable. Well, that .01% of the population has to be “different.” Every now and again, it works, but only for certain people. When David Beckham wore a sarong, it was somehow acceptable. When some 45 year old balding asshole in a tie died shirt does it, it’s stupid. By and large, people should think about looking in a mirror before leaving their house.

-Anybody that wears a bandana that is not a pirate or an old west bank robber. This includes everybody.

-Fully ambulatory people that take an elevator up 1 floor, or down anything fewer than 7.

-Sports scandals and the ensuing coverage. Look, I don’t even live in the U.S. right now and can’t watch football here, and I’m sick to death of the “spygate” Patriots scandal. I don’t believe it effected the games, and I don’t care. Here’s what else I don’t care about - Barry Bonds. And though I’m clearly in the anti-Vick camp given the nastiness of dog fighting, at this point I would certainly enjoy watching one of Vick’s feistier dogs rip ESPN.com’s Gene Wojciechowski’s face off. In fact, I think I would enjoy that at any point.

Travelers and Tourists

I’m going to drop a couple blog entries tonight, just because I’m heading to Tokyo tommorow and thus all the blogs I have in the hopper will feel dated after that. This topic: travel. Big surprise.

I’m starting to feel different about the “traveler” verses “tourist” divide. I’ve long fallen on the “traveler” side, because it seems to be the more authentic experience that falls more into my ethos. For the un-indoctrinated to this debate, “traveler” means that you travel with a backpack, wear a bandana at all times, you stay in the cheapest hostel available, and your ideal trip would involve a 243 hour trip on a non-air-conditioned bus in August through every country that ends in ”stan”. “Tourist,” on the other hand, means that you tour with a roller-bag, wear a fanny pack at all times, you stay in 4 star hotels that were pre-aranged by your tour company, and your ideal trip involves either a cruise, a week at Disney World, or a 7-day bus tour through Europe, staying in a different city every single night. There is no in between.

Obviously, both of these are exaggerations (usually). And it’s easy to see why the notion of “tourism” gets a bad name. But, I’m getting tired with the inherent self-righteousness that comes along with the “traveler” ethos. Look, people get their travel rocks off in different ways. I think it’s stupid to adhere to the hard core tourist mentality, and to have most of your travel experience spoon fed to you by the tour company. But I also think it’s stupid to subscribe to the hard core “traveler” mentality as well, to just stay in hostels in large rooms with people like you and to cook all your own meals. I can understand why people do it wither way, but neither way makes sense to me. Why bother leaving home if you are just going to stay in soulless Hiltons and Marriots and are just going to eat overpriced, familiar food? At the same time, why bother leaving home if you are just going to hang out with fellow “travelers” and are going to cook cheap, shitty ramen or spaghetti in the hostel kitchen every night?

Look, I’ve done it both ways (though usually closer to the traveler way on my own since I’m never rich) and had fun both ways. Hell, on my Hong Kong trip, I did it both ways at the same time - staying in a dirt cheap rats nest, but going to Disneyland and spending a million dollars at bars and restaurants. But, in general, I never stay in hostel dorms anymore (exception - this weekend. Tokyo hotels are fucking expensive.) I like hostel bars to meet travelers, but I like local bars more. I don’t like hostel dorms, because I don’t see what sort of cultural lessons can be learned by trying to sleep on a bunk below some fat snoring Australian. I never, ever cook in hostel kitchens, or anywhere else for that matter. I didn’t come 200-7,000 miles to eat my own shitty cooking. If I can’t afford to eat at restaurants, than I can’t afford to go on the trip. Or, I use credit cards. Also, I at least try the local cuisine, and try my best to avoid eating anything that I can easily get back home. Which, in my coming Tokyo trip, just means no McDonald’s and no Korean food.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Das Bus

*There is a Dickbreath sighting in this blog.

So, for the past two years in Chi-town, I've been a train person. I've picked places to live based on how close it is to a convenient train stop, i.e., not the blue line. Now, I live far from a train stop, but close to Lake Shore Drive, so I can take an express bus downtown. In the past month, I've picked up the correct Bus Etiquette, but it appears some people haven't.

1. If there's an open seat, take it. Don't sit next to me. I know I'm having a great hair day, but seriously, take THAT seat that no one's sitting in. I don't care if there's an old newspaper there. Move it and sit down.

2. Move the newspaper off of the seat next to you. Once you're in that seat, you inherit everything that comes with it. Paper, gum, piss. Whatever. It's your paper now, and you look like an asshole. Ship it.

3. Do you really need to take your5 kids in strollers on the 8:30am bus? Make some fucking pancakes, put on some cartoons, and wait till 9.

4. Do you really need that oversized shoulder bag? What's in there, really? Your computer? You're wearing an thousand dollar suit and taking the bus. Guess what? Time for a smaller laptop, cheap-o.

5. Please, keep hitting me with that oversized bag while we're standing, and pretend like nothings happening, or look at me like it's my fault. Perfect.

6. This one goes to the bus driver- Thanks for driving past my stop when we have a bunch of people waiting, but then stopping at the next one.

7. I hate the last person that squeezes on.

8. Why are you staring at me? Bring a book.

9. I'm not staring at you. I'm looking out the window. Prick.

10. WAIT YOUR TURN TO GET ON.
This is in all caps, because, that's right, none other than Dickbreath likes to break this rule. (for more info on Dickbreath, check out the previous blog "Hate Thy Neighbor"). So, yesterday at 5, I'm waiting for the bus downtown. I wait a good 10 minutes, and right before the bus appears, good old cock face strolls up in his green shirt and tie, smoking his ritual cigarette before he gets on. A bunch of people are lined up, waiting, but not in line like we're waiting to get on some amusement park ride. But we know who's been waiting there before we got there. The bus stops, I'm about to get on, then the bus pulls forward to the stoplight. We all walk down the street a bit, and old Dickbreath comes speeding on my right, and gets in a few people ahead of me. I can't decide if I should just give him the evil staredown when I see him, or ignore him completely.

By the way, the bus we were on broke down twice. I thought we were going to have to get off. I had a funny thought when the bus died the second time, as we were going under the tunnel to the expressway. I pictured Michelle driving by, on her way home, pull over, pick me up, and have dickbreath ask for a ride since we live in the same building...

I moon him as we peel out.

That would have ruled.

Friday, September 14, 2007

first crappy survey of the new blog

1. Who were you with last night at 4:00 a.m.?
watching lost on dvd, drinking cass red.

2. What woke you up this morning?
a garbage truck. damn dumpsters.

3. Where are you?
sitting down and facing front.

4. Is tomorrow going to be a good day?
depends on the potential use i may have for my a.k.

5. Did you kiss or hug anyone last night?
a pillow named sheila.

6. When was the last time you cried?
august 23, 1996.

7. Ever thrown up in public?
i prefer on public. one time, i went to a pisser in this after hours bar, and puked all over these dudes that were hanging out in front of the urinal. they even said it served them right for hanging out in front of a urinal. i got some puke on myself, of course, but when i got back to my people, i pointed out the same dudes and said that one of them had puked on me. true story.

8. Where would you like to live?
a brothel.

9. Ever been skinny dipping?
exclusively. it goes unnoticed though, due to my natural pubis speedo.

10. What do you want to be when you grow up?
again, supreme dictator of the universe.

11. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
supreme dictator of the universe. or dead. or working, badly, at some job i hate that i’m overqualified for, on the verge of getting fired.

12. Do you like candy necklaces?
yes, but only because of the last episode of TV Ngels. if you don’t know what TV Ngles is, youtube it.

13. What was the last thing you ate?
cheese sandwiches, msg flavored chips.

14. About how many people have you liked this year?
this isn’t a usual year. this is like a high school year in the liking department. off the top of my head, i can think of 16 in the last 3 weeks. i’m going to conservatively estimate 57.

15. How many have you loved?
every single one of them. especially the ones who’s names i never knew.

16. What are/were you doing this weekend ?
same thing i do every weekend - try to take over the world. or, at the very least, drink.

17. What's Your favorite type of soda?
i don’t rank mixers.

18. Do you like someone right now?
i don’t know, 6 or 8 girls, but none that much.

19. How long 'til your birthday?
173 days or so. start shopping. i’m registered at the liquor store.

20. Do you use EBay to buy or sell?
sold my car there. got a dollar for every 192 miles i drove it.

21. What makes you mad?
waking up every afternoon, most everything that happens after that.

22. Have you ever had a song written about you?
strangely, suite madame blue, by styx. they never explained why.

23. What song makes you cry?
anything by sean paul.

24. What makes you happy?
it’s cliche, but tits. if there’s a killer exposed rack in the room, i doubt i’m spending much time fretting about the iraq war or global warming.

25. What's the next CD you're going to get?
they still make cds?

26. Who was your last text from?
some girl.

27. Where was your default myspace picture taken?
some bar (not being coy here on these last 2, i don’t know the names. really.)

28. What's your middle name?
arado, which i believe is italian for “danger.”

29. Your current location?
60 kilometers south of the DMZ.

30. Does your crush like you back?
i assume so. she won’t return my calls. obviously, she knows me well enough to know that if she did, i’d quickly lose interest.

31. Name at LEAST 3 of your all time favorite movies.
rocky iv. airplane. rocky iv again.

32. If you could go back in time and change something, would you?
i’d bomb the swiss. neutral, nazi-profiting motherfuckers.

33. What are your plans for tomorrow?
plans?

34. Ever had a near death experience?
only if you count people that have had a near death experience at my hand. those would be countless. as for myself, i’m unkillable. go ahead, try. you’ll fail.

35. Something you do a lot?
rattle the rook. know the knight. batter the bishop. caress the king. punish the pawn. i’d use a queen euphemism here, but that would seem gay.

36. Last movie you've seen?
speed. again on korean cable. i just can’t get enough of speed-era sandra bullock.

37. Who can you tell anything to?
anyone.

38. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
price.

39. Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
gotta get my rocks off somehow.

40. Do you speak any other language?
nah. restaurant-wise, i wouldn’t starve in any italian, spanish, italian, korean, or french speaking countries. add in german and i could order a beer. i presume i could parachute into burkina faso and be able to get smokes.

41. What's your favorite smell?
my own balls.

42. Describe your life in one word- what would it be?
goat.

43. What are you looking forward to at the moment?
tokyo trip.

44. What are you thinking about right now?
i should be at the bar.

45. What should you be doing?
really, hanging out at the bar. it’s only 3:20. that’s the equivalent of going home at 9 p.m. in the u.s.

46. What are you listening to?
ill communication.

47. Do you like working in the yard?
beats working in the meter.

48. If you could have any last name in the world, what would it be?
kickass.

49. Do you act differently around the person you like?
i’m not usually oscar material to begin with.

neighbors

on the neighbor tip, let's not forget the guy down the block in lawrence that burned his parent's house down in an effort to kill them. i never met the cat, but he had to have been a strange one.

right now, my neighbor situation is quite different than it was in lawrence or chicago. it's a building of large studio apartments that they call an officetel, each apartment pretty much the same. the mix in the building seems to be korean families (which i have virtually no contact with ever) and people like me. and by people like me, i mean 20-something foreigners (i.e. non-koreans from english-speaking countries) that live alone and work as english teachers. so really, my living situation now is closer to dorm life than anything, only everybody is old enough to drink, everybody does drink, and nobody has a roommate. so, unlike usual, i'm actually friends or co-workers with many of my neighbors, and of the people in my building that i hate (it's just this one dude) i don't hate him because of any usual neighborly stuff. no, i hate him for the same reason i hated any of my peers in college, because of drama over girls at the bar. that, and he's a bit of a chode.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Hate Thy Neighbor

File this blog under idiots I've encountered.

It's Chicago in September. The last month with a few days of perfect weather, so it's great to walk around on those nights. Me and Michelle were leaving our place, and caught the elevator, already opened, with our neighbor inside. Now, we've never officially met this neighbor, but he takes the same bus that I do, and works in the same neighborhood I do. We even get on and off at the same stop, but we've never spoken. I found a perfect opportunity to change that.

I follow Michelle into the elevator.

ME: Hey man, hows it going?

NEIGHBOR: ...

(He looks right at me. Awkward silence. He looks away and stares at the ceiling. Beat. The elevator doors slowly close. Much more Awkward Silence on the long trip down four short floors. The doors open up. NEIGHBOR gets off first, exits towards the back door, out through parking garage on foot.)

WHAT THE FUCK?

Now, Keith came over a few weeks ago, and asked if we knew who our neighbor was yet. Jokingly, I said we were sworn enemies. Apparently, not joking.

This guy seems totally weird to begin with, but that's just a prick move. All he had to do was acknowledge my existence as a human. "Hey." Even a head-nod, or a smile would have at least upgraded him to a chode instead of total fucking prick that if I ever see him alone in the laundry room I'll throw all 90 pounds of him in the dryer and pop ten bucks in.

Why does this guy hate me for no reason? Then, I started thinking back to all the neighbors I've ever had. I've pretty much hated or been hated by every neighbor I've ever had.

Growing up: Lawrence, KS. Same house for 15 years, same neighbors for as long as I can remember. Our diagonal neighbor behind our house yelled at us every time we hit a ball in his yard. He was that guy. We called him Farmer John because he ALWAYS wore overalls.

Our neighbor directly behind us was a girl in my class. I had dated her friend in fifth grade, denied it to everyone (trying to play it cool), broke up with her (playing it so cool), got back together, and then broke up with her again. They've both hated me ever since. Even in high-school, I never felt comfortable talking to her. I used to hop the fence and hang out with her for Gods sake. Fifth Grade. Everything Changed.

Our neighbor right next door called the cops on us because our dog was barking outside...instead of, I don't know, telling us, since we'd lived next to them for ten years.

In 7th grade, I dated my across the street neighbor, denied it to my friends (I knew a lot about girls), she broke up with me, and we never even waived to each other after that.

In college, it switched from crazy neighbors to crazy landlords, which I'm sure is common. Though, when I moved to Chicago, I had both. A crazy fucking neighbor below us (who called the cops on us 3, yes 3 times in ONE night...for watching TV. Seriously.), AND a crazy landlord that lived in our building above us, who still owes us about a grand.

Now, we have dickbreath. I think I'll poop in a box and leave it in his mailbox.

Anyone else have a good neighbor story?

summer - asia style

i agree with mr. kickass. while this sumer certainly, easily beat out the summer of 2005, when my entire summer of fun was condensed into one overnight roadtrip to indiana beach, this summer certainly lacked in any sort of "north to the lake" adventure. though i didn't have an apocolyptic event like the mr. kickass's aforementioned flood to dampen my summer (quite a pun there, eh?) most of my summer was brought down by the little things. maybe my expectations were too high, coming off the best spring of my life. but, i was ill for much of june, and then i bought a computer, so i was broke in july, and i had to save money in august for my thailand trip. and yeah, i know that any summer that includes the phrase "my thailand trip" cannot catagorically suck. but, sadly, no winnie, no kara, but at least no margaret fahrquhar.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Summer

It’s not that the summer has gone by too fast, though it has, or that I took it for granted, though I did a little…But this summer lacked adventure. I’ve been watching The Wonder Years lately (2 episodes every night on Ion! Thanks Julia) and Kevin Arnold is always looking for excitement. Instead of going to work, he turns his car around and drives north to the lake.

This summer started out promising. I took a trip with the guys to Atlantic City in late May. A great start, but it was pretty much downhill from there. I started a grown-up 9-5 job in mid June. Granted, we lost a lot of our summer when our apartment flooded…But, yesterday, when I felt that first cold wind, I couldn’t help but start to miss the Summers I haven’t had for a while. Summers that included drinking beer on my front porch, house parties next door, everyone outside listening to music. Things are different now. Weekends are shorter. Work has eclipsed summer fun. At least football season has started. Maybe we can get together every Sunday and start some new traditions.

In closing, if you want to read a great interview about life and writing, check out what Steven Dietz has to say. It’s rather inspiring.

Monday, September 10, 2007

The Worst Day in Sports Ever?

Yesterday. Sunday. September 9th, 2007. What went wrong? Everything.

1. To start the day, the Kansas City Chiefs (granted, not a good team, but should be able to RUN over the Texans) almost get shut out after missing a 30 yard field goal to open the game.

2. In the middle of the day, the Chicago Cubs get spanked by the Pirates of all teams. Really? The Pirates? Last I checked, they were in last place...well, now they're second last. And we lose our first place status in the tightest division race I've ever seen. At least the Cubs could have won, for Gods sake. Give us some hope.

3. The Bears. What the fuck happened to our offense? We used to have one. A pretty good one, one scored touchdown(s). I need some answers on this one. Sure, they were playing the best rushing team in the league, a team that went 14-2 last year, an even better record than the Bears. But, we SHUT LT DOWN. They did it. They did their jobs. He got maybe 12 yards in the first half. That's unheard of. But our offense blew it. And it wasn't Rex's fault. Lovie. Give me a call man. I have some ideas. Number one on the list is to not run the same play 2nd, 3rd and 4th down. I can't even get away with that shit in Madden or Techmo Bowl. God knows they'd be calling my play, as was San Diego.

4. Going back to Saturday - Notre Dame. Sure, yeah, "It's a rebuilding year." Right. That still doesn't make it okay to go 8 quarters without an offensive touchdown. Where are the offenses? They play Michigan this weekend, and the good thing is they have the same record.

5. I lost my fantasy football game. In both leagues I'm in. And I scored 97 points for Gods sake. MY offense is scoring points, and I have the Bears D. Come on.

There is hope. The Kansas Football Jayhawks are 2-0, which is equivalent to the Royals being only 2 games back. Just doesn't happen, I don't know what to do. Also, today the Cubs CRUSHED the Red Birds of St Louis 12-3. Pass me an Old Style.

Now I can sleep.
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