I needed to stay home tonight because oh hell I'm going to go out soon, after I finish this entry. I'm high and listening to my iPod on random. I did this all day long. I never put my iPod on random, and am even more reluctant to when in the presence of friends. One of my favorite past times is to just sit back with a bowl and some tunes and company or not.
But I wanted to just chill tonight because last night I got really, really wild and shitfaced at a mixer for Miami Ad School. It was awesome; I won't go into the antics that went down but I felt like I was really on point and repped it hard for Americans.
An open bar led to about 12 glasses of beer (small sized), a tallboy of beer, three glasses white, two glasses red, half of a girl's water, on an empty stomach. I was wasted; I say it in an embarassing tone, not in a "it's cool to get wasted" tone. But again, I do think it's kind of cool, shit, I feel cool. Maybe the advertising just brainwashed me into thinking that it's cool for all women to start to look real sexable and all of your pictures with acquaintances become Precious Moments statues. I retract my original comment. It was uber cool because I was uber wasted. But anyway, the chain on my Schwinn came off and I flew off my bike, landed hard on my hip and knee, and was quiet for about 30 seconds before erupting into laughter. Of course, it was in a busy location, so everyone laughed at me. I then spent 10 minutes trying to fix the chain, but some cats from Serbia came along and helped me fix it. I went home last night alive and realized I was being a bit of a dick...
"Why don't you go, dance on the dancefloor or something."
When another girl asked me what I notice first about a girl, I replied "First I notice her tits, then her ass, then the rest of her body, and if I have time, her smile and her eyes."
I was at least half-kidding. I notice the ass first.
But either way, I woke up today with a massive hangover. My hangovers seldom ever last over 2 hours but I was pretty incapacitated all day long. And worse than that, my knee and hip really really hurt. I'm a gimp. That's what I get for getting so drunk and being a dick. I think I outta go dance on the dancefloor or something.
But really, the folks here in Amsterdam are very nice. A Dutch girl I went out completed my sentence; I said, "People here are so ___."
"NORMAL"
If the scale had to swing of course it'd be for the positive. But I realize that America is so awesome because there is so much diversity, there is no one American culture. I'm from a big, bad, scary wolf of a city (Los Angeles) and my life is completely different from shit, someone else's life just a few cities over. America has a plus side to all of its fucking shitty people; but they all bring something to the table. Just quickly, off the top of my head, the list of shitty Americans are: cholos, Christian Conservative radicals, racist rednecks, fraternity guys, Hollywood/Miami scenesters, customer service workers, the 4000+ Catholic preists that hide their homosexuality and pedophilia behind their cloaks, cops. Damn, you don't know how happy it makes me feel to be in Amsterdam -- a city of smiling cops. They don't do patrols, they do leisurely strolls. No joke!
But man, I hate generalizing people but to make up for all that negative energy, here's a list of good people: doctors without borders, Peace Corps volunteers, Aussies, documentarians, Serbians, Germans, Turks, Tour Guides, old people, Buddhist monks, fat mechanics, Mormons, Moms
Friday, April 18, 2008
Deadly Combination
So this Yellow Skunk is pretty bomb; just real stoney and mellow. I got baked at the coffeeshop (Gray Matter) and decided to ride my bicycle back home without using the brakes or coming to a complete stop. That's about as far as I'll go with challenging myself.
Amsterdam at 4:00 AM
I was a little lost, very very drunk and riding my bicycle back home, alone at 4:00 AM, and it was all good. It was at this canal bridge where I thought, "Fuck, this is awesome."
Taking in the Wednesday Sun
At this exact movement, I thought to myself: "I can't believe this is my life."
Here I am chilling on the balcony of Pat's apartment. Can't wait till it heats up because he has a fat ass terrace where we can all grill up.
Here I am chilling on the balcony of Pat's apartment. Can't wait till it heats up because he has a fat ass terrace where we can all grill up.
Day in the Pjip
I'm lucky to be staying in one of the coolest areas of Amsterdam. This small little nook, alone, has a bad ass coffee shop (Coffee Company), bar that plays some surprisingly good hip hop (Chocolate Bar) and this spot that serves up the best Falafel I've ever had. This was snapped from the stand across the street.
Leeman Doner
Lady cutting up some fresh shoarma meat with a hacksaw -- all certified hilal (Islamic rule for cutting meat with a sharp blade)
APRIL 18, 2008 - PHILOSOPHY SET IN STONE
I'm chililng on a couch right now in Amsterdam. Enjoying the Friday sun -- all glorious and photosynthesizing. Stoned on some Yellow Skunk (which I now find to be up to par to Cali Kush..eureka!)
Just thought I'd do a little line break just for the fuck of it. Ok, well I was giving my dear friend advice about this little power struggle he's been having with this girl that he's been dating. So, I came up with some analogies and metaphors to quantify my fathomless philosophy.
my friend, if i can give you any insight or wisdom it would be:
a cow that lives in the wheatfields appreciates eating grass more than a cow that lives on a grassy hill.
allow me to give you another metaphor/analogy when it comes to making her earn it:
beef is arguably the best tasting meat in the world, but no one ever hunts it.
Just thought I'd do a little line break just for the fuck of it. Ok, well I was giving my dear friend advice about this little power struggle he's been having with this girl that he's been dating. So, I came up with some analogies and metaphors to quantify my fathomless philosophy.
my friend, if i can give you any insight or wisdom it would be:
a cow that lives in the wheatfields appreciates eating grass more than a cow that lives on a grassy hill.
allow me to give you another metaphor/analogy when it comes to making her earn it:
beef is arguably the best tasting meat in the world, but no one ever hunts it.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
CITY POWER RANKINGS - BALDWIN PARK, CALIFORNIA
I just thought it'd be interesting to rank my hometown, so here goes:
CITY POWER RANKINGS - BALDWIN PARK, CA .01/10
Liveability: .5/10
People don't live in Baldwin Park so much as they slowly die in Baldwin Park. The city fucking sucks, I know because I grew up here. The only thing Baldwin Park gets mad credit for is being the birthplace of In-N-Out Burger (which was also home to the first drive through). Other than that, the Mexican food there is really bomb and carnicerias are every where. Unfortunately, crime is also everywhere so it's like, even still, I can't walk around any street there at night. You cannot get a healthy meal anywhere outside of Subway. I put that on my life. It's fucking impossible. Best you can do is get a salad from Jack In the Box. It's hard to believe, but it's very true. How you think I got so fat? Oh yeah, and you cannot buy any real healthy groceries anywhere in the city. You have to drive 15 minutes away to the more affluent cities.
Nightlife: 0.0/10
There is no nightlife here. Not even a stodgy dive bar to get a beer. Here, we just drink on the streets. Sometimes outside our friend's parents' houeses, sometimes outside of just random people's houses. Had a friend with a big backyard though, so we had bonfires. But nope, no nightlfe.
Culture: 0/0
There's not that much diversity here. Only Mexicans, some Asians, fewer Blacks and very few Whites. And with the limited diversity, it's only detrimental because of all the racism and gang stuff that goes down there.
People: 2/10
People here are very uneducated and have no ambition. They all live the same, typical surburban life, with suburban expectations. Boring, all stuck with Morrissey stickers on their cars and Betty Boop license plate frames. (Here's a human truth: you will never see an attractive female behind the wheel of a car with anything Betty Boop on it). If you want to be cool you have to be in a gang or be tough. Things have changed drastically over the past 10 years, but I don't have any hope. Really? They opened another Starbucks here? Wow, this must be the crown jewel of San Gabriel Valley.
PROS: Mexican food everywhere, cheap and delicious. Hot Mexican girls that are really really attractive, until they turn 21. Or you get the cute Filipino girls that are really cute, but are really cookie cutter and bland and super don't have a brain of their own (if you're into that). All my friends are dope and most would back me up in a fight.
CONS: Everything! I'm from there and I'm like, the biggest asshole in the galaxy.
CITY POWER RANKINGS - BALDWIN PARK, CA .01/10
Liveability: .5/10
People don't live in Baldwin Park so much as they slowly die in Baldwin Park. The city fucking sucks, I know because I grew up here. The only thing Baldwin Park gets mad credit for is being the birthplace of In-N-Out Burger (which was also home to the first drive through). Other than that, the Mexican food there is really bomb and carnicerias are every where. Unfortunately, crime is also everywhere so it's like, even still, I can't walk around any street there at night. You cannot get a healthy meal anywhere outside of Subway. I put that on my life. It's fucking impossible. Best you can do is get a salad from Jack In the Box. It's hard to believe, but it's very true. How you think I got so fat? Oh yeah, and you cannot buy any real healthy groceries anywhere in the city. You have to drive 15 minutes away to the more affluent cities.
Nightlife: 0.0/10
There is no nightlife here. Not even a stodgy dive bar to get a beer. Here, we just drink on the streets. Sometimes outside our friend's parents' houeses, sometimes outside of just random people's houses. Had a friend with a big backyard though, so we had bonfires. But nope, no nightlfe.
Culture: 0/0
There's not that much diversity here. Only Mexicans, some Asians, fewer Blacks and very few Whites. And with the limited diversity, it's only detrimental because of all the racism and gang stuff that goes down there.
People: 2/10
People here are very uneducated and have no ambition. They all live the same, typical surburban life, with suburban expectations. Boring, all stuck with Morrissey stickers on their cars and Betty Boop license plate frames. (Here's a human truth: you will never see an attractive female behind the wheel of a car with anything Betty Boop on it). If you want to be cool you have to be in a gang or be tough. Things have changed drastically over the past 10 years, but I don't have any hope. Really? They opened another Starbucks here? Wow, this must be the crown jewel of San Gabriel Valley.
PROS: Mexican food everywhere, cheap and delicious. Hot Mexican girls that are really really attractive, until they turn 21. Or you get the cute Filipino girls that are really cute, but are really cookie cutter and bland and super don't have a brain of their own (if you're into that). All my friends are dope and most would back me up in a fight.
CONS: Everything! I'm from there and I'm like, the biggest asshole in the galaxy.
Common Dutch Bike - Mode of Transportation
I had to replace both tires and tubes. On top of that I bought that spiffy combo lock. It cost me about $80 to get this thing up and running again.
It's heavy, plain but fast. I ate shit right in the middle of Dam Square (city centre) when my rear tire got caught in the tram line. I think I'm going to have a permanent scar on my palm for it.
It's heavy, plain but fast. I ate shit right in the middle of Dam Square (city centre) when my rear tire got caught in the tram line. I think I'm going to have a permanent scar on my palm for it.
Herring Sandwich
Got this at the well-known sandwich stand near Pat's apartment.
This typical Dutch sandwich consists of raw herring, chopped onions, and sweet dill pickles. It's actually very fucking good and (sans bread) quite healthy.
This typical Dutch sandwich consists of raw herring, chopped onions, and sweet dill pickles. It's actually very fucking good and (sans bread) quite healthy.
Amsterdam - Best Fries
I hate thick fries, but these are really the best. They don't get all dry and stuff. The topping you see is Peanut Sauce.
Amsterdam - Best Fries
French fries are bigger here than anywhere else I've ever been. The fries are the best I've ever had also. This stand is known for serving up the best fries in Amsterdam.
It's right at the end of Spuitstraat if you ever want to check it out.
It's right at the end of Spuitstraat if you ever want to check it out.
Grey Area - Supposedly Best Buds in Town
This place supposedly has the best buds in town. I got Hindu Kush here which was quite enjoyable; I'd say it's a James Worthy herb compared to LA's Magic.
Grey Area - Counter
The guys that run this joint are from Rhode Island. What a dope dream, get it? Hahahah. I'm a little blunted right now but here's how it works:
You buy the herb and you can borrow their bongs. That, right before you, is a genuine Roor bong! Too bad they didn't have ice, otherwise it'd be twice as nice.
You buy the herb and you can borrow their bongs. That, right before you, is a genuine Roor bong! Too bad they didn't have ice, otherwise it'd be twice as nice.
Amsterdam - Gray Matter Coffeeshop
What's funny is that inside these coffee shops there are so many cats: rockers, punkers, rastafarians, EVERYONE all getting high. All countries, every where! Haven't seen an Asian yet, but they're all cowardly when it comes to shit like this anyway.
But yeah, these cats all enjoy it, but I'm starting to think that Americans are the biggest, baddest (in good and bad ways) stoners. My friends back home will easily smoke an eighth a day or smoke og kush blunts.
I'm not that much of a stoner, but I can walk into any coffeeshop table and go toke for toke with any cat. I love doing it with the local Dutch kids that act all hard and gangsta. Heads don't know! Now put down that spliff while I tell you that I, too, know what's up with Sean Price.
But yeah, these cats all enjoy it, but I'm starting to think that Americans are the biggest, baddest (in good and bad ways) stoners. My friends back home will easily smoke an eighth a day or smoke og kush blunts.
I'm not that much of a stoner, but I can walk into any coffeeshop table and go toke for toke with any cat. I love doing it with the local Dutch kids that act all hard and gangsta. Heads don't know! Now put down that spliff while I tell you that I, too, know what's up with Sean Price.
Amsterdam Mellow Yellow Coffee Shop
I waited over 24 hours till I made my first weed purchase. In about 5 days, I made about 5 purchases. i just had to try it all out.
As of today (April 14, 2008, two weeks into it), I've purchased:
- NYC Sourdiesel (weird hybrid bc NYC Diesel is good enough). Funnier is that when I first had my prescription NYC Diesel was the shit. Like top dog shit. Then you know, kush changed the whole game up and now NYC Diesel is like Cheesecake Factory. Kush, that's Michelin rated.
- Afghan Kush - All these kushes are good, but for real, fuck man, not that great.
- Hindu Kush - I'll just say the same thing for all the kushes here. This one was really stoney though. This goes good with Pinback.
- Master Kush - Wow, this is the B+ in LA. I'm smoking it right now and I'm not even that high. I'm an attic, not a radio tower.
- AK 47 - This was quite peaky. It gave me a fat headache and convinced me that the best thing for me to do is french kiss chocolate candy.
- India Kush - Good, but I heard so much about this so I was a little let down. It was like the movie 300 for me. It was still good, but whatever.
- LA Confidential - Pretty good and stoney, not as good as the LAC in LA, though. I'm being completely objective. Still, this one fucked me up because it was the first time smoking real herb for over two months. I ain't hating on this one at all. Probably my favorite.
- White Widow - I tried this because it's probably the most prevalant strain. It's Sizzler. You wouldn't go there, but if someone's treating...
As of today (April 14, 2008, two weeks into it), I've purchased:
- NYC Sourdiesel (weird hybrid bc NYC Diesel is good enough). Funnier is that when I first had my prescription NYC Diesel was the shit. Like top dog shit. Then you know, kush changed the whole game up and now NYC Diesel is like Cheesecake Factory. Kush, that's Michelin rated.
- Afghan Kush - All these kushes are good, but for real, fuck man, not that great.
- Hindu Kush - I'll just say the same thing for all the kushes here. This one was really stoney though. This goes good with Pinback.
- Master Kush - Wow, this is the B+ in LA. I'm smoking it right now and I'm not even that high. I'm an attic, not a radio tower.
- AK 47 - This was quite peaky. It gave me a fat headache and convinced me that the best thing for me to do is french kiss chocolate candy.
- India Kush - Good, but I heard so much about this so I was a little let down. It was like the movie 300 for me. It was still good, but whatever.
- LA Confidential - Pretty good and stoney, not as good as the LAC in LA, though. I'm being completely objective. Still, this one fucked me up because it was the first time smoking real herb for over two months. I ain't hating on this one at all. Probably my favorite.
- White Widow - I tried this because it's probably the most prevalant strain. It's Sizzler. You wouldn't go there, but if someone's treating...
Amsterdam - Mellow Yellow Coffeeshop
I've been to about 8 coffeeshops now and this was one of my favorites. Just chill and stuff..but nothing special.
I like going to the rasta ones the most because you get reggae.
I like going to the rasta ones the most because you get reggae.
Amsterdam Canal At Night
You just see 1000 piece puzzle set shit like this out of nowhere. I think I was very drunk when I took this photo.
Self Portrait - Driving Range
This was my 5th time ever wacking a golf ball with all my might. I figure if I'm ever going to give it a try, it's gotta be in Amsterdam.
Gas Station
Score! We got a car for the weekend (company car that Nike employees get, I think). I was trying to convince them to go to Antwerp, but they didn't budge.
Amsterdam Flea Market - Montana Paint Company
I guess this would be the MAC line of spray paint. Crazy that they sell this at the flea markets.
Amsterdam - Night Biking
This was at like 2:45 AM, biking back from this bar. That was my third or fourth bar we just left.
Amsterdam - Street Art - Guess What?
I was very stoked to see him show up right next to Pat's apartment. Take a good look and see who I'm talking about. Guess!
My Salad
The average salad here costs about $16 so I started making my own.
Baby spinach leaves, mushrooms, tomatoes, zucchini, crumbled feta cheese, chopped chorizo for texture, balsamic vinegrette, freshly crushed pepper and multi grain bread. This cost me like $3 to make. Dam!!!! Tell me it doesn't look good.
Baby spinach leaves, mushrooms, tomatoes, zucchini, crumbled feta cheese, chopped chorizo for texture, balsamic vinegrette, freshly crushed pepper and multi grain bread. This cost me like $3 to make. Dam!!!! Tell me it doesn't look good.
Amsterdam Library
I'm just going to show a series of pictures of the most amazing library I've ever visited.
Insanely designed with modern furnishings, they really spared no expense. Fucking insane. Gourmet food court at the top, beautiful terrace view of the water and the entire city, garden, etc. The food court had fresh fruit, fish and steaks.
The museum has better architecture, design, food, and amenities than even the Getty Center.
Insanely designed with modern furnishings, they really spared no expense. Fucking insane. Gourmet food court at the top, beautiful terrace view of the water and the entire city, garden, etc. The food court had fresh fruit, fish and steaks.
The museum has better architecture, design, food, and amenities than even the Getty Center.
APRIL 12, 2008 - SPRING IS IN THE AIR
It's weird, but I think 1) since I'm writing this as I go (via laptop) and since 2) I know there are people that actually enjoy this I'm going to address everyone.
What up, ya'll? I don't know, I've wanted to do it sooner but I know how weird it can be when the writer speaks directly to the reader. It's like, these blog entries that I've been posting are very intimate, humiliating and exploitive and the fact that I really only talk to myself makes it that much more voyeuristic. But then when I write and talk directly to you, it cheapens everything because in one way or another it's supposed to be like I have no clue what's going on. Ok, I'm just typing as I go along but maybe, I guess it's like being in a strip club when the lights turn on? Whatever.
I'm home on a Saturday night and that's why I'm writing. On the weekends, I have yet to return home before 3:00 am and sober. On the weekdays, I haven't gone to bed before 2:30 am. Whatever, I feel like my bones are aching and all that jazz so I'm trying to prove to myself that age is really just a state of mind. I'm probably going to go out tonight though but I wanted to get some work done.
Haven't done a single touristy thing here in Amsterdam yet. Went to the FOAM photography museum, but that's more below the radar and that's more shit that I would've done back in the States. They had a nice little exhibit by this badass photographer that documented heroin addicts in a Manhattan apartment. It's so fucking nice and easy to live here. I can't stop thinking of how fun it would be if all my friends lived in this city. It's leisure time to the max. Ride bikes everywhere, drink whenever you want, smoke weed for cheap...why'd I say that? Ok, hang on....time for dessert..
Oh fuck, so I'm writing this because I decided to stay home and work on my book. Last night was another crazy night and I know a looooot of shit's going to go down in the next week or so, and I'm running broke and I know I'm still going to go out later on tonight even though it's like 9:00 and I know around 1:00 I'm going to start itching and then scratch it with a handful of drinks and stuff...wait, also, I need to save money because some other plans spruced up before me.
Ok, I got some Master Kush for what would cost $28 an eighth. The LA street price would be like $60, so that's pretty fucking dope. I haven't found anything danky yet...everything's rather dry and crumbly. Not too presentable..not too many crystals. The weed here is definitely cheap and does the job, but I guess there's really no comparing them. It's Dom P versus Moet, right? Both good in their own right but one's better. If I had a choice, I'd choose to smoke Dutch weed during the week and then just smoke like an eighth of the Cali green on the weekends. But then again, I'm pretty stoned right now, but I'm not like, stoney baloney, I'm like cotto salami.
But yeah, so I'm writing because I'm totally fucking stoked to say that in about two weeks, I'm going to Ireland! Fuck yeah. So, I know I'm going to be missing out on Queensday here, which is one of the Europe's biggest celebrations. I mean, like Little Brother were here last year to perform. And Pat, Collin and all the cats here are fucking wild and crazy and fun. But still, I couldn't pass up the opportunity.
Like I said, I've been thirsting for adventure. I've never really cared too much for Ireland, but that's good because I'll be going with no expectations other than cold Guinnesses and hot redheads. Ha, don't even mention redheads to me. I got the tickets for about $160 round trip, so why not? On the real reason I'm going is because those good ol Ukrainian boys (Mike, Cam, Patrick and maybe Jeff) are going. I had to because I miss these cats and it'll probably be the last time I'll be able to hang out with all of them for a long time (if not forever). Regardless, I know the way they roll and I know wild shit is going to happen. So I figure that Queensday will always be around, but the opportunity to travel with a bunch of cool cats, that I've only recently met, in crazy Ukrainian circumstances would make me foolish if I were to not go.
On top of that, I figure, fuck it since I'll be flying out of Brussels, I'm going to couchsurf there for a few days and add another country to my list. Then coming back home, fuck it, I'm going to stay in Antwerp also.
Ha. What a life. 24 hours ago I wasn't planning on doing shit. Mike throws out this bone; now I'm all in. Sometimes the solitude and freedom I possess leaves me feeling worthless, but in rosier times it allows me to be flexible and completely open to the world. I can smell it already, I tell you. Spring. It's definitely in the air.
What up, ya'll? I don't know, I've wanted to do it sooner but I know how weird it can be when the writer speaks directly to the reader. It's like, these blog entries that I've been posting are very intimate, humiliating and exploitive and the fact that I really only talk to myself makes it that much more voyeuristic. But then when I write and talk directly to you, it cheapens everything because in one way or another it's supposed to be like I have no clue what's going on. Ok, I'm just typing as I go along but maybe, I guess it's like being in a strip club when the lights turn on? Whatever.
I'm home on a Saturday night and that's why I'm writing. On the weekends, I have yet to return home before 3:00 am and sober. On the weekdays, I haven't gone to bed before 2:30 am. Whatever, I feel like my bones are aching and all that jazz so I'm trying to prove to myself that age is really just a state of mind. I'm probably going to go out tonight though but I wanted to get some work done.
Haven't done a single touristy thing here in Amsterdam yet. Went to the FOAM photography museum, but that's more below the radar and that's more shit that I would've done back in the States. They had a nice little exhibit by this badass photographer that documented heroin addicts in a Manhattan apartment. It's so fucking nice and easy to live here. I can't stop thinking of how fun it would be if all my friends lived in this city. It's leisure time to the max. Ride bikes everywhere, drink whenever you want, smoke weed for cheap...why'd I say that? Ok, hang on....time for dessert..
Oh fuck, so I'm writing this because I decided to stay home and work on my book. Last night was another crazy night and I know a looooot of shit's going to go down in the next week or so, and I'm running broke and I know I'm still going to go out later on tonight even though it's like 9:00 and I know around 1:00 I'm going to start itching and then scratch it with a handful of drinks and stuff...wait, also, I need to save money because some other plans spruced up before me.
Ok, I got some Master Kush for what would cost $28 an eighth. The LA street price would be like $60, so that's pretty fucking dope. I haven't found anything danky yet...everything's rather dry and crumbly. Not too presentable..not too many crystals. The weed here is definitely cheap and does the job, but I guess there's really no comparing them. It's Dom P versus Moet, right? Both good in their own right but one's better. If I had a choice, I'd choose to smoke Dutch weed during the week and then just smoke like an eighth of the Cali green on the weekends. But then again, I'm pretty stoned right now, but I'm not like, stoney baloney, I'm like cotto salami.
But yeah, so I'm writing because I'm totally fucking stoked to say that in about two weeks, I'm going to Ireland! Fuck yeah. So, I know I'm going to be missing out on Queensday here, which is one of the Europe's biggest celebrations. I mean, like Little Brother were here last year to perform. And Pat, Collin and all the cats here are fucking wild and crazy and fun. But still, I couldn't pass up the opportunity.
Like I said, I've been thirsting for adventure. I've never really cared too much for Ireland, but that's good because I'll be going with no expectations other than cold Guinnesses and hot redheads. Ha, don't even mention redheads to me. I got the tickets for about $160 round trip, so why not? On the real reason I'm going is because those good ol Ukrainian boys (Mike, Cam, Patrick and maybe Jeff) are going. I had to because I miss these cats and it'll probably be the last time I'll be able to hang out with all of them for a long time (if not forever). Regardless, I know the way they roll and I know wild shit is going to happen. So I figure that Queensday will always be around, but the opportunity to travel with a bunch of cool cats, that I've only recently met, in crazy Ukrainian circumstances would make me foolish if I were to not go.
On top of that, I figure, fuck it since I'll be flying out of Brussels, I'm going to couchsurf there for a few days and add another country to my list. Then coming back home, fuck it, I'm going to stay in Antwerp also.
Ha. What a life. 24 hours ago I wasn't planning on doing shit. Mike throws out this bone; now I'm all in. Sometimes the solitude and freedom I possess leaves me feeling worthless, but in rosier times it allows me to be flexible and completely open to the world. I can smell it already, I tell you. Spring. It's definitely in the air.
Monday, April 7, 2008
MARCH 27, 2008 - NOT TREE, NOR STONE
So it's almost been 2 months that I've been on the road now and today was one of the more defining ones.
I don't know what to make of this whole thing. I'm tired. I feel I'm as much a tree as I am a rolling stone. I don't want to go back home. I don't want to counry hop anymore, either. I'm just tired, I guess. But I AM a rolling stone. Nothing (outside of hip hop and the ocean) has been able to hold my attention for too long. And even hip hop has lost my dedication, to a certain extent. For real though, after all this, despite all this, am I supposed to just carry on and pick up where I left off? By the time I return, others will have already left and where would I actually continue? South on the 405? To my delusions of still living out on the westside, and not with my parents? Or that we'll still go out to Silverlake, The Brig or even go surfing before and after work like we did last summer? I don't know. The world continues, life continues and I'm Rip Van Winkling.
But on the other side, I'm also a tree. If I'm forever standing on unstable soil, when will I ever plant my roots? What is with the way of the stone anyway? Meeting people, etching permanent marks onto each other and then just having them disappear and (realistically speaking) never see them again? It's a phenomenon, to me.
The lives of travelers, the dimension in which they live and the way they occupy that time in their lives. Traveling in and out of hostels, couches. Washing clothes in sinks, growing out their facial hair, asking people for nail clippers. Opening up dialogue with, "Hey, where ya from?" Looking a menu and ordering food based on money rather than the actual food description. Not even being able to fucking read the menu to begin with. Having a little guidebook dictate what exactly you will be able to communicate, flipping frantically through the pages, like, "Ok, just point and I'll head in that direction." The life of travelers, I tell you, isn't for me. I can't be a rollling stone. Let me fall into a country, get all the ingredients, throw it into the oven, open it up and smell the wonders and then leave just as the yeast is going to rise. It is the most wonderful thing though; and I guess it's because travelers catch other humans at their best of times -- when they're open to the world, vulnerable to do just about anything, have to trust in strangers, have to just have faith that people are inherently good, and are willing to make the most of it (drinking, fucking, drugging, photographing, plowing through hangovers) because they know, just like I now confirm, that it's all fleeeting. None of it lasts, not the photographs or souvenirs, the relationships...even already the memories are settling onto the back of my mind like potato chips do during transit.
(Side note: As I currently transcribe this it's been over a week since I've posted up in Amsterdam and I feel it even now. Lord knows how prominent it's going to be in two months time.)
Like I said, it's a phenomenon to me. Usually when I find somethign good I tend to hold onto it. If it's fertile soil, I want to set up shop. But the forces of nurture always shake shit up and I can't even grow a damn apple.
"Hey Rob/Sean/David, it's me, Roe. The person you met in Central Turkey, on a Soviet train, in a posh Berlin hostel X amount of years ago. So I'm going to Australia and I was wondering..."
For the record, I think I relate most with Australians and I would live there, without even having ever visited, based alone on my encounters with the countrymen. Americans can learn from them; lesson one -- fucking take it easy. I am trapped in this etherworld, where my reality has all these flings with people -- forming bonds, so strong and so temporary and fleeting at the same time.
Whatever -- had they known me long enough they would've fast been privy to the fact that I'm an asshole. But you know, the solitude and stuff just kind of makes me realize how niche I am. When I started Chiat I also got out of a long term relationship. And when that struck, I made a personal commitment to just be whoever I naturally am and not try to be perfect. I decided to just be me, the best that I could so long as it didn't really hurt anyone. You can imagine the liberation and boundless opportunities that arose as I started to nestle into my character. However, all that self-discovery comes with the side effect of self-distancing.
All I can say, really, is that I'm glad I'm on this trip. I miss home, but I'm no longer certain of what I'm more afraid of. As I head west (currently on a 14 hour bus ride from Prague >> Amsterdam), traveling through well worn paths leaves a lot to be desired. As time brings me closer to home, my sense of adventure severely diminishes. I just need to replant my roots. I just need to photosynthesize. I just need to rebulid. But the life of travelers, I tell you, shit, well, I guess it is me.
I don't know what to make of this whole thing. I'm tired. I feel I'm as much a tree as I am a rolling stone. I don't want to go back home. I don't want to counry hop anymore, either. I'm just tired, I guess. But I AM a rolling stone. Nothing (outside of hip hop and the ocean) has been able to hold my attention for too long. And even hip hop has lost my dedication, to a certain extent. For real though, after all this, despite all this, am I supposed to just carry on and pick up where I left off? By the time I return, others will have already left and where would I actually continue? South on the 405? To my delusions of still living out on the westside, and not with my parents? Or that we'll still go out to Silverlake, The Brig or even go surfing before and after work like we did last summer? I don't know. The world continues, life continues and I'm Rip Van Winkling.
But on the other side, I'm also a tree. If I'm forever standing on unstable soil, when will I ever plant my roots? What is with the way of the stone anyway? Meeting people, etching permanent marks onto each other and then just having them disappear and (realistically speaking) never see them again? It's a phenomenon, to me.
The lives of travelers, the dimension in which they live and the way they occupy that time in their lives. Traveling in and out of hostels, couches. Washing clothes in sinks, growing out their facial hair, asking people for nail clippers. Opening up dialogue with, "Hey, where ya from?" Looking a menu and ordering food based on money rather than the actual food description. Not even being able to fucking read the menu to begin with. Having a little guidebook dictate what exactly you will be able to communicate, flipping frantically through the pages, like, "Ok, just point and I'll head in that direction." The life of travelers, I tell you, isn't for me. I can't be a rollling stone. Let me fall into a country, get all the ingredients, throw it into the oven, open it up and smell the wonders and then leave just as the yeast is going to rise. It is the most wonderful thing though; and I guess it's because travelers catch other humans at their best of times -- when they're open to the world, vulnerable to do just about anything, have to trust in strangers, have to just have faith that people are inherently good, and are willing to make the most of it (drinking, fucking, drugging, photographing, plowing through hangovers) because they know, just like I now confirm, that it's all fleeeting. None of it lasts, not the photographs or souvenirs, the relationships...even already the memories are settling onto the back of my mind like potato chips do during transit.
(Side note: As I currently transcribe this it's been over a week since I've posted up in Amsterdam and I feel it even now. Lord knows how prominent it's going to be in two months time.)
Like I said, it's a phenomenon to me. Usually when I find somethign good I tend to hold onto it. If it's fertile soil, I want to set up shop. But the forces of nurture always shake shit up and I can't even grow a damn apple.
"Hey Rob/Sean/David, it's me, Roe. The person you met in Central Turkey, on a Soviet train, in a posh Berlin hostel X amount of years ago. So I'm going to Australia and I was wondering..."
For the record, I think I relate most with Australians and I would live there, without even having ever visited, based alone on my encounters with the countrymen. Americans can learn from them; lesson one -- fucking take it easy. I am trapped in this etherworld, where my reality has all these flings with people -- forming bonds, so strong and so temporary and fleeting at the same time.
Whatever -- had they known me long enough they would've fast been privy to the fact that I'm an asshole. But you know, the solitude and stuff just kind of makes me realize how niche I am. When I started Chiat I also got out of a long term relationship. And when that struck, I made a personal commitment to just be whoever I naturally am and not try to be perfect. I decided to just be me, the best that I could so long as it didn't really hurt anyone. You can imagine the liberation and boundless opportunities that arose as I started to nestle into my character. However, all that self-discovery comes with the side effect of self-distancing.
All I can say, really, is that I'm glad I'm on this trip. I miss home, but I'm no longer certain of what I'm more afraid of. As I head west (currently on a 14 hour bus ride from Prague >> Amsterdam), traveling through well worn paths leaves a lot to be desired. As time brings me closer to home, my sense of adventure severely diminishes. I just need to replant my roots. I just need to photosynthesize. I just need to rebulid. But the life of travelers, I tell you, shit, well, I guess it is me.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
CITY POWER RANKINGS - BERLIN, GERMANY
MARCH 26, 2008
BERLIN, GERMANY 9.5/10
LIVEABILITY: 9/10
I have a pretty girl sitting next to me, how can I possibly concentrate? Ok, boobs, breasts, bellybutton...I expel you from my brainwave activity! Begone! Beautiful women: number 1 cause of my writer's block. Interesting women: number 1 cause of my heart attacks.
I'm over it. Berlin is my top choice, bar none. Throughout my travels, I'd say I'd be able to live just about anywhere, once. But in Berlin, I could see myself here longer than any other country I know. On a Western salary, the city becomes very liveable. The food here is AMAZING. Currywurst is the best treatment a sausage could possibly have. An example of what I pigged out on is:
- Currywurst - I got it at the stand that invented currywurst (sausage with ketchup and curry powder) with chips - $4
- Vegetarian quesadilla (Indian style with chapati bread) with a mixed green salad - $7
- Thai burger (tofu patty, peanut sauce) and hot and sour soup - $5
That right there makes Berlin city numero uno. Alongn with that, a liveable flat in what I deem to be a badass neighborhood (Kluerzbug) will cost you about $500. Yo no hablo no mo!
NIGHTLIFE: 9.5/10
On mellow nights I found myself retiring to bed at 2:30 AM. The bar to building ratio here can rival NYC. There are clubs and venues for everyone. I went to one big block party -- $15 to get into a big courtyard with a raging bonfire in the middle, food grilling up everywhere, and about six different clubs to choose from. Each club had about 500 people in there. I left the place that night at 6:30 AM and there were still people there. Walked around the next day and saw a variety of places for real hip hop, funk, reggae, etc....all at various sizes, also. And don't make me talk about the cool ass artist squat....
CULTURE: 10/10
...that got bombed in WWII and still remains in its postwar state. The backyard housed a sculpture garden, the place was littered with graffitti, the artists had their lofts ope to people, and two floors of the five storied building were dedicated bars. And everywhere in between, you could get drugs or prostitutes. It was such a dope place. Surely if Jesus were to come back, first thing I'd tell him is, "Dude....you gotta check this out. You're going to love it."
Graffiti is EVERYWHERE. But it still hasn't evolved all too much, either. I didn't see any jaw-dropping burners (intricate pieces), wehat pastings or social messages (well, there was one guy that wrote "6" that would paint on things in the city that needed to be fixed, which was very cool). I mean, fuck, the wall only came down 19 years ago. Don't you have anything to say? I mean, I order fried eggs and get scrambled instead, and I'm churning out the diary of Anne Frank!
Besides that, Berlin is bustling with ethnic food, cool art, architecture and I guess there's this place called "Museum Island." It's an island with like, 6 museums that houses ancient Egyptian artifacts and the gates of Ancient Babylon...whatever those are.
PEOPLE 9.5/10
I like Germans. I thought they'd be all stoic and mean, but they're the exact opposite. They don't smile so much and aren't too warm, but who cares! That only shows more character and adds to the challenge. I mean, fuck, they were a hardcore society just 18 years ago! The younger generation are all nice and fun loving. No attitudes, no flashiness, nothing. I saw this skinhead looking cat on the sbuway with his girlfriend. He just looked like a real dick, staring at me from time to time as we made our way through the city. I decided to ask his girl fro directions and he lept at the opportunity to speak English and of course I was wrong and he ended up being very nice! Consequently, I'd prefer that to someone that appears really cool and nice but is really a big asshole that treats peopel like shit -- someone like me, per se'. And the women, are beautiful and approachable....with each layer of clothing being their own Berlin Wall of which I'd like to scale. In large scale.
Seriously, I write oft times for writing's sake. I'm not that girl crazy at all, most times I'd prefer to be in the company of my homies or my thoughts. I can't help it, I just like to acknowledge beautiful and interesting women, it's in my nature.
PROS
Public transportation is a cinch (with arrival times at metro/tram stops. It's walkable. Salad dressing! They experiment with food (something that LA is too boring to do and something that NYC and SF do but I could never afford).
CONS
Corny ass German sense of humor
BERLIN, GERMANY 9.5/10
LIVEABILITY: 9/10
I have a pretty girl sitting next to me, how can I possibly concentrate? Ok, boobs, breasts, bellybutton...I expel you from my brainwave activity! Begone! Beautiful women: number 1 cause of my writer's block. Interesting women: number 1 cause of my heart attacks.
I'm over it. Berlin is my top choice, bar none. Throughout my travels, I'd say I'd be able to live just about anywhere, once. But in Berlin, I could see myself here longer than any other country I know. On a Western salary, the city becomes very liveable. The food here is AMAZING. Currywurst is the best treatment a sausage could possibly have. An example of what I pigged out on is:
- Currywurst - I got it at the stand that invented currywurst (sausage with ketchup and curry powder) with chips - $4
- Vegetarian quesadilla (Indian style with chapati bread) with a mixed green salad - $7
- Thai burger (tofu patty, peanut sauce) and hot and sour soup - $5
That right there makes Berlin city numero uno. Alongn with that, a liveable flat in what I deem to be a badass neighborhood (Kluerzbug) will cost you about $500. Yo no hablo no mo!
NIGHTLIFE: 9.5/10
On mellow nights I found myself retiring to bed at 2:30 AM. The bar to building ratio here can rival NYC. There are clubs and venues for everyone. I went to one big block party -- $15 to get into a big courtyard with a raging bonfire in the middle, food grilling up everywhere, and about six different clubs to choose from. Each club had about 500 people in there. I left the place that night at 6:30 AM and there were still people there. Walked around the next day and saw a variety of places for real hip hop, funk, reggae, etc....all at various sizes, also. And don't make me talk about the cool ass artist squat....
CULTURE: 10/10
...that got bombed in WWII and still remains in its postwar state. The backyard housed a sculpture garden, the place was littered with graffitti, the artists had their lofts ope to people, and two floors of the five storied building were dedicated bars. And everywhere in between, you could get drugs or prostitutes. It was such a dope place. Surely if Jesus were to come back, first thing I'd tell him is, "Dude....you gotta check this out. You're going to love it."
Graffiti is EVERYWHERE. But it still hasn't evolved all too much, either. I didn't see any jaw-dropping burners (intricate pieces), wehat pastings or social messages (well, there was one guy that wrote "6" that would paint on things in the city that needed to be fixed, which was very cool). I mean, fuck, the wall only came down 19 years ago. Don't you have anything to say? I mean, I order fried eggs and get scrambled instead, and I'm churning out the diary of Anne Frank!
Besides that, Berlin is bustling with ethnic food, cool art, architecture and I guess there's this place called "Museum Island." It's an island with like, 6 museums that houses ancient Egyptian artifacts and the gates of Ancient Babylon...whatever those are.
PEOPLE 9.5/10
I like Germans. I thought they'd be all stoic and mean, but they're the exact opposite. They don't smile so much and aren't too warm, but who cares! That only shows more character and adds to the challenge. I mean, fuck, they were a hardcore society just 18 years ago! The younger generation are all nice and fun loving. No attitudes, no flashiness, nothing. I saw this skinhead looking cat on the sbuway with his girlfriend. He just looked like a real dick, staring at me from time to time as we made our way through the city. I decided to ask his girl fro directions and he lept at the opportunity to speak English and of course I was wrong and he ended up being very nice! Consequently, I'd prefer that to someone that appears really cool and nice but is really a big asshole that treats peopel like shit -- someone like me, per se'. And the women, are beautiful and approachable....with each layer of clothing being their own Berlin Wall of which I'd like to scale. In large scale.
Seriously, I write oft times for writing's sake. I'm not that girl crazy at all, most times I'd prefer to be in the company of my homies or my thoughts. I can't help it, I just like to acknowledge beautiful and interesting women, it's in my nature.
PROS
Public transportation is a cinch (with arrival times at metro/tram stops. It's walkable. Salad dressing! They experiment with food (something that LA is too boring to do and something that NYC and SF do but I could never afford).
CONS
Corny ass German sense of humor
CITY POWER RANKINGS - BUDAPEST, HUNGARY
MARCH 22, 2008
BUDAPEST, HUNGARY 8.7/10
LIVEABILITY: 8.5/10
I could live here for at least a few years, no problemo. The climate is cold and gloomy -- which allows for some creativity in the warddrobe (it's really the only opportunity for a man to "accessorize"). But whatever, I prefer the sun, but I have a deep respect for the gloom. It's inspiring, offers softer contrasts if you're into photography, and makes brilliant and beautiful things that much more vibrant. And with cold weather, the women walk around like wool-wrapped burritos -- waiting to be unwrapped and leaving lots to the imagination. I hear the summers get mad hot and humi, so I don' tknow...fuck that? Where Kiev is a city for rich bachelors, and Lvov is a city for lovers, Budapest (to me) is a city for dog owners. There are tons of paths to run on and grass to poop on. The food here is pretty good; local delights are kind of shitty but their goulash (stew) is awesome. I would have to live here on a Western salary; it's not that cheap at all. A girl here told me that her father, a doctor for over 30 years, still only earns 700 euros a month. So give me money to play with. Also, most folks here speak (or try to speak) English.
NIGHTLIFE: 8.9/10
I hosteled the city, so last night I wanted to go to a local joint. It led me down this crumbly drvieway that was guarded by two menacing baldwies. I greeet them in Hungarian and their eyes lit up; they were more than happy to wave all of us through (about 10 of us, from The States, Mexico, Germany, Serbia, Bulgaria and Germany). Inside, they were playing breakbeats in this big squatted car garage, graffiti all over the walls, stray dogs perusing the aisles of inebriated youth, bicycles leaned up against the walls, a ping pong table, 8 foosball tables and a small room in the back where a blues rock band was performing. They were a well known Hungarian band, also -- adapting a famous Hungarian poet's work and twisting it -- singing about getting fucked in the ass by their uncle, seriously. How off-the-wall is that? But it wasn't scary or dark sounding at all, and the people had a blast. The people were quite fond of us; we were well-received and there were no egos there at all. Wow! And that's just one of the many places that Budapest has to offer.
Whenever I plan to go out for a wild night, I don't really bring my camera because: I'm already too drunk pre-partying and I forget it on the charger, I don't want to get into a fight and have it get broken (or have the guy take a picture of me getting my ass kicked and me feeling obligated to exploit my defeat in order to save face), lose it if I were to take off my jacket and dance, lose it if I were to take off my pants and dance (the horizontal lambada), or just get robbed. I desperately wish I would have brought my camera -- it was unlike anything I've ever experienced. And given the context of the situation, the diverse range of people I was with, me being well outside of my comfort zone, and the $3 liters of beer...it was truly one of the best nights I've ever had.
Lack of live music and no influx of independent artists docks points.
CULTURE: 6.5/10
Though it had a variety of nightlife to choose from, the music was kind of lacking. Maybe Sofia's strong hip hop presence left me wanting more, whatever. Even the blues rock band I saw and the breakbeats I heard sounded 10+ years behind. The grafitti wasn't impressive at all and wheat pasting (google Shepard Fairey or Banksy to know what I'm referring to) still hasn't made its way to Hungary. I attended the opera for only $8 -- of course sung in Italian, supertitles in Hungarian so my two word description would be "mass confusion." The voices were rather tame and I couldn't appreciate the high school caliber execution of the set/wardrobe design. But still, at least high art is accessible, right?
PEOPLE: 8/10
Pretty cool people here. I did experience some frustrations with some of the city people, but then again, some people are just assholes and I can't hold an entire populace for it...
Me: Sasci' Do you speak English?
Dude, looking at me like I'm a piece of shit, scurries by
Me: Shit, you motherfucker (in a passive way)
Dude, turns his head to look at me, in a confrontational way
Me: You understand that, right motherfucker?
I'm not trying to sound tough at all. I know humility and I know to keep my mouth shut and be appreciative for everything. But sometimes, I just have to let it out. I'm a tea kettle, not a tea pot. Really though, I experience assholes everywhere and that's how I naturally respond. Yes, I have a lot of growing up to do, but here's the secret. I'm not trying to be a saint, I'm just trying to be me. And so long as it doesn't necessarily hurt anyone or do any real harm, then fuck it. This morning, the metro workers took it one step further by screening only me, for a valid metro ticket, all three employees....while hundreds of other people just walked on by.
PROS
Underground culture. Accessible big city. Safe and clean streets. The nice people are very nice. You can drink in public.
CONS
None really; which is NOT a good thing since it doesn't offer any balance or much of a challenge. Oh, I found one! Like in Ukraine, it is physically impossible to find an attractive girl over the age of 35.
BUDAPEST, HUNGARY 8.7/10
LIVEABILITY: 8.5/10
I could live here for at least a few years, no problemo. The climate is cold and gloomy -- which allows for some creativity in the warddrobe (it's really the only opportunity for a man to "accessorize"). But whatever, I prefer the sun, but I have a deep respect for the gloom. It's inspiring, offers softer contrasts if you're into photography, and makes brilliant and beautiful things that much more vibrant. And with cold weather, the women walk around like wool-wrapped burritos -- waiting to be unwrapped and leaving lots to the imagination. I hear the summers get mad hot and humi, so I don' tknow...fuck that? Where Kiev is a city for rich bachelors, and Lvov is a city for lovers, Budapest (to me) is a city for dog owners. There are tons of paths to run on and grass to poop on. The food here is pretty good; local delights are kind of shitty but their goulash (stew) is awesome. I would have to live here on a Western salary; it's not that cheap at all. A girl here told me that her father, a doctor for over 30 years, still only earns 700 euros a month. So give me money to play with. Also, most folks here speak (or try to speak) English.
NIGHTLIFE: 8.9/10
I hosteled the city, so last night I wanted to go to a local joint. It led me down this crumbly drvieway that was guarded by two menacing baldwies. I greeet them in Hungarian and their eyes lit up; they were more than happy to wave all of us through (about 10 of us, from The States, Mexico, Germany, Serbia, Bulgaria and Germany). Inside, they were playing breakbeats in this big squatted car garage, graffiti all over the walls, stray dogs perusing the aisles of inebriated youth, bicycles leaned up against the walls, a ping pong table, 8 foosball tables and a small room in the back where a blues rock band was performing. They were a well known Hungarian band, also -- adapting a famous Hungarian poet's work and twisting it -- singing about getting fucked in the ass by their uncle, seriously. How off-the-wall is that? But it wasn't scary or dark sounding at all, and the people had a blast. The people were quite fond of us; we were well-received and there were no egos there at all. Wow! And that's just one of the many places that Budapest has to offer.
Whenever I plan to go out for a wild night, I don't really bring my camera because: I'm already too drunk pre-partying and I forget it on the charger, I don't want to get into a fight and have it get broken (or have the guy take a picture of me getting my ass kicked and me feeling obligated to exploit my defeat in order to save face), lose it if I were to take off my jacket and dance, lose it if I were to take off my pants and dance (the horizontal lambada), or just get robbed. I desperately wish I would have brought my camera -- it was unlike anything I've ever experienced. And given the context of the situation, the diverse range of people I was with, me being well outside of my comfort zone, and the $3 liters of beer...it was truly one of the best nights I've ever had.
Lack of live music and no influx of independent artists docks points.
CULTURE: 6.5/10
Though it had a variety of nightlife to choose from, the music was kind of lacking. Maybe Sofia's strong hip hop presence left me wanting more, whatever. Even the blues rock band I saw and the breakbeats I heard sounded 10+ years behind. The grafitti wasn't impressive at all and wheat pasting (google Shepard Fairey or Banksy to know what I'm referring to) still hasn't made its way to Hungary. I attended the opera for only $8 -- of course sung in Italian, supertitles in Hungarian so my two word description would be "mass confusion." The voices were rather tame and I couldn't appreciate the high school caliber execution of the set/wardrobe design. But still, at least high art is accessible, right?
PEOPLE: 8/10
Pretty cool people here. I did experience some frustrations with some of the city people, but then again, some people are just assholes and I can't hold an entire populace for it...
Me: Sasci' Do you speak English?
Dude, looking at me like I'm a piece of shit, scurries by
Me: Shit, you motherfucker (in a passive way)
Dude, turns his head to look at me, in a confrontational way
Me: You understand that, right motherfucker?
I'm not trying to sound tough at all. I know humility and I know to keep my mouth shut and be appreciative for everything. But sometimes, I just have to let it out. I'm a tea kettle, not a tea pot. Really though, I experience assholes everywhere and that's how I naturally respond. Yes, I have a lot of growing up to do, but here's the secret. I'm not trying to be a saint, I'm just trying to be me. And so long as it doesn't necessarily hurt anyone or do any real harm, then fuck it. This morning, the metro workers took it one step further by screening only me, for a valid metro ticket, all three employees....while hundreds of other people just walked on by.
PROS
Underground culture. Accessible big city. Safe and clean streets. The nice people are very nice. You can drink in public.
CONS
None really; which is NOT a good thing since it doesn't offer any balance or much of a challenge. Oh, I found one! Like in Ukraine, it is physically impossible to find an attractive girl over the age of 35.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
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