shenanigans and goings on
.............ok folks, this is my humble page, updated whenever i feel like it, it is the result of my pure boredom, which results mainly from my looking to do somehting other than homework.by the way, you'll notice the lack of capitalization, and some spelling errors oh well, that's the way i write, so you'll deal with it and like it.
03/09/2009 2:57 am Est.
03/08/2008 4:25 pm, urhm, WTHKIST
Yes, heading back. I’ll most likely be out on the road again in a few months when Troika’s next season ramps up, so I’ll be looking for things to do. I’d thought about couch surfing, but I really don’t want to do that, as it will drive me nuts, and I have bills to pay. I can’t really stick to union work and expect to make ends meet that way, so one plan is to head to Nashville and try to get a job in a shop for a couple of months. We’ll see how that develops, but I think it may work out ok. Had I known that this tour would be cut short; I probably would have saved more money, and made less huge payments on my various debts. Ah well, c’est la vie, right? So that’s the plan as it stands right now, though I would very much like to work Riverbend again this year, so I’ll talk around and see if I can swing that. It would be a nice, two-week break in the middle of the summer. Also, if I can find an apartment in Nashville that will let me go month to month, and if I land a job with spectrum in Nashville, they may just send me out to Riverbend with their rig. This, of course, would categorize itself as “the best of all possible worlds”. We’ll have to see what happens, and it will, in due course.
This touring thing, I must say that I like it, I’ve had a blast running around, it truly is nice to get paid to do something you love, I’ve been out eight months, and it feels like two. I really could see myself doing this for a long, long time. Though it will be damn nice to see you guys again, and I can’t wait to kick around and chill with you guys.
I’m getting distracted, and this is getting splotchy. To preserve cohesiveness, I shall return to this in a short while.
I keep trying to ruminate on this whole experience, but I’m thinking it’s going to take a while for me to verse it properly. I’m not sure, I’ll give it a shot here and we’ll see how it turns out.
These 8 months have absolutely flown by. I’ve had a great time out here, and the more time I spend doing this, the more I realize just how little I’ve done in the past five years. By little, I mean absolutely nothing, save for sitting around, drinking copiously and gaining weight. This isn’t supposed to be depressive, ‘cause it’s really not. If anything I feel, I don’t know, vaguely ashamed of myself. It’s surprising how insular one can become when there’s just nothing to prod you along. Aside from a handful of friendships and a union card, I’m not sure anything decent or memorable has come out of the last five years. But the good news is that, finally, I can look to the past as just that: the past. This is a period of my life that has ended, and boy howdy was it about time. I am so in love with what I am doing right now I cannot begin to describe it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not all roses and multiple orgasms. There are the bad days, I still get pissed off or upset at things, but that’s ok; it’s part of life, and it doesn’t hold a candle to this Thing.
The Thing. I’m not sure what else to call it, really. But there’s been a moment in every city, sometimes during a bad day, sometimes a good day, sometimes during the run, sometimes on a day off at the hotel, especially if there’s a nice view from my room. Most often it happens at the theatre, usually as I cross the backstage and look up at the fly space, the myriad drops suspended in the hazy air, just waiting their turn to fly in and make their presence known. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but I get this feeling all of a sudden, it’s this realization: “I’m doing this, this is what I do, and I get to do it, and it’s fucking awesome that this is what I get to do for my living.” I think this, and a smile crosses my face, because it’s awesome. I love this; I love the shit out of this. The first time I got this feeling was the end of load out in Longgang.
We started after the show, about 10:30 pm. This particular load out was plagued with the trials and tribulations that can only be provided the first time around. The first load out happened to be in a small theatre with a tiny elevator that liked to break, little did we know that the rest of the place would follow suit. We broke this theatre, oh yes. We broke the elevator (lots), the ceiling, the roll-up door (Which was not tall enough, so some set pieces made it tall enough), the floor, and the loading dock. The most entertaining part of the out came at about 10 am the next day, watching Sam and Paige smack an orange juice bottle around with bits of whatever the fuck they could find lying about. Sixteen and a half hours after it started, our first load out was over. The beer that had been sitting in a cardboard box for the last 8 hours was miraculously still cold. It was that moment, crossing to the stage door with the rest of the crew, my crew; drinking a cold TsingTao, watching the house people scowl at us as they cleaned tape marks off the floor; that was the first time it hit. I was master, champion incarnate, this was my life, and I absolutely adored every damn second of it.
That’s pretty much it, right there; I get paid to do this, how sweet is that? How did I get lucky enough to swindle somebody into paying me for this? The thought can boggle the mind; though boggled, my mind still likes it. Except for Hefei, that place was a shithole, plain and simple. And on that scatological theme, I would like to present to you :
I’m sure there are many more, but I can’t remember them at the moment, and I never did make a list, so those are just the ones that I can remember (in case you’re wondering, and you probably are: Murphy’s law dictates that if you go to the bathroom with your radio, somebody will invariably call you while you’re busy, and you’ll have to tell them what you’re doing. Hence the list. “Making China heavier” is still my favorite though.
What can I say, I’m finally on that path, that path that will get me to that place, that place where I get to the point where I can look back at where I’ve been and say, I’ve been there, y’know?
You know what? I think I’ll leave it at that.
11/20/07 6:44 am est.
I’m not sure why, but of late I’ve found myself in a really crappy mood. There are a number of reasons as to why this is the case, the problem is that none seem to be the apparent cause. There’s my new roommate, but he hasn’t really been that much or a problem. There were, of course, the normal bumps associated with losing a large chunk of one’s personal privacy, but considering the situation, I feel things went rather smoothly. The big problem is that I’m a light sleeper, a very light sleeper, as in make the slightest amount of noise and I’m conscious. My roommate is very noisy, and a very heavy smoker. It’s possible that I haven’t really slept since the acquisition of said roommate. That could also explain the crabbiness.
It could be the change in weather, the lack of time off, apprehension about my next job, hell even that we’re closing in Beijing. I fully expect that after a break things will be much better. 22 days remain and then I’ll have 9 days to myself. Well, mostly myself. There’s still that whole roommate thing. Now, if I could get my own room for the break, that’d be an entirely new shade of awesome.
Beijing has been nice, got to hang out with Nick. Actually, in the past few days I’ve talked to him more than since he graduated high school. Not saying anything about that right now, but it was nice to see an old face. As jaded and sardonic as we all are, it was still nice to feel that innate understanding that we all seem to cultivate, and I’ve found that to be all too rare outside of the ridge.
Paige is currently making fun of the fact that I’m holed up in a corner writing this, she offered blankets and couch cushions so that I could build a fort. That would rock!
Anyway (which is probably the third most used word on this site), we load out today, and onto Xi’an we go. Not sure what the theatre will be like, but it will almost certainly be small and dirty. Beijing has been OK. It’s Danny’s home, so he’s been able to find shoes that fit me. ( ¥ 1,000, but still, they’re shoes, they fit me, and I’m in China, so no arguments here). Our hotel blows goats. The place is small, nobody speaks English, and we’re at least a 30 minute cab ride from anywhere.
Our previous city, Wuhan, was much nicer, and I liked it much better. There was an electronics district where I went and proceeded to have a ball. I now have many pictures of fake audio equipment (Peney, JBI, Shuze, Boke, you name it, they’ll rip it off for you). The funny part is that the fake Renkus-Heinz speakers actually sounded better than their real counterparts.
Wuhan also had Café Brussels; I very strongly recommend it to anyone who happens to be anywhere near Wuhan. The place is easy to find. Just go to the York and tell sugar (the owner) that you want to go to Café Brussels. He’ll tell his dog to take you there (the dog’s name is Yorkie, but he’s actually a Pomeranian). Follow the dog, he knows the way. This is single-handedly the best stupid pet trick I’ve even seen. When you get to Café Brussels, say hi to David. He’s the owner, is usually found behind the bar, about the friendliest guy I’ve ever met, and makes his restaurant feel like home. Oh yeah, the steaks are fucking amazing as well. Anyone who can cook a 4 inch think chateaubriand to a perfect medium rare deserves special praise in my book. If you ever go to Wuhan and don’t go to Café Brussels, I will personally come to your house and tea bag your mom.
K, now that I’m done reviewing bistros, I can keep talking about whatever the fuck I was talking about. What the fuck was I talking about again? Where’s Paige with my goddamn couch cushions? This blanket fort ain’t gonna build itself!
Have there been studies performed about seasonal changes and relationship patterns? There should be, for I feel there is a strong correlation. It gets cold and people want to hook up. Leaves fall, and you want to hold someone’s hand. A crisp, chill wind blows itself across an icy blue cloud swept sky and you find yourself wondering “why isn’t there a nice warm girl next to me to keep my side from getting that crisp, chill wind blown onto it?”
It makes perfect sense when you stop to think about it, the notion embodies that deeply-rooted instinctual logic that keeps people breathing, and makes them jump when you hide under their bed and grab their ankles. ugg cold! ugg want woman! Make ugg Less cold! Women, there ya go. Well, women and fire, there ya really go, keep both sides warm at the same time. Still no good place to put that damn arm though. Ah well, can’t have it all, can ya?
However, that’s old-me shit. I’m still 90% old me, but there’s about 10% new me that’s pretty sure those tendencies will carry over to the new version.
Goddamn I wish I had my ipod with me. Music would rock right now. So my dog died about a month ago. That sucks. Apparently he had pancreatitis. Not sure how, could be a drug allergy, could be a misdiagnosis by a shitty vet, who knows. The one clear fact is that Jake’s dead, and no amount of worrying if the correct course of action was taken will change that. Somebody is wearing that god-awful perfume that makes me feel like I want to die. God I want some coffee. Coffee would be fucking stellar right now. Bad trance is really popular here. They actually play the numa numa song. And Eiffel 65. Like the trance, the air in china is also really bad. Worse than my basement during a party bad, worse than a Waho at 4am bad, it’s so bad that the electricians don’t need to run their hazer during the show. Hefei was worse. Yeah, bad air here.
It looks like before the show tonight, ABC is doing a live version of their after school special “The Littlest Commie In China”. All I know is that there’s a ton of flags, and that dreary, minor-key “love theme” type music that segues into some booming, expansive “early fall Alaskan gold rush” orchestral swell. I’m expecting White Fang to come bounding by any moment.
Holy shit! These women are dressed up like cat toys, and according to the music now, they’re about to host the evening news. Ahh, the cat-toy things are pheasant feathers. Whatever, would a cat go batshit crazy if you dangled one around? Yeah, cat toys.
Apparently they’re pushing back out already-delayed start time so this loosely ordered fiasco can take place. Whatever, I don’t really care. We’re going to load out sometime, right? Speaking of cat toys, I learned a very important point today. Wanna have fun? A lot of fun? So much fun that you might end up getting arrested? Do you have a laser pointer? Is there a zoo nearby? Do they have a big cat exhibit? Do I need to explain this further? Lions can haul ass when they want to, that’s all I’m saying.
I’m trying to think of any new and exciting prospects I’ve forgotten to mention. I’ve got a fuck-ton of dvd’s. I need to find a way to ship them to the states, apparently customs fines you $100 per dvd that they find if they stop you on your way in to the country. Right now I’ve got 124 of then, so that fine would be a bit steep. Maybe I can fedex them. Oh yeah, 124 dvd’s plus a 240 cd wallet for ¥580 (about $70).
Ok, show update: curtain went up about 5 min ago, and right in the middle of the first scene, a drop started coming in. it got to about three feet off the deck before it started going back out again. Gives you newfound respect for Noises Off, eh? Oh, wait! It’s coming in again! I’d better go see what’s going on, I love legitimate theatre…
Ok, flight update: it’s now 3:38 pm, our flight is nowhere to be seen, I have no idea if our delay status has changed, but two flights have boarded and left through our gate. They can really move flights through this terminal, just not ours. I have to dump trucks in six and a half hours, so hopefully we can get to the place where our stuff goes, take it off the trucks and put it there. Sometime when I feel like it I’ll tell you about how they ended up hanging the mirror in Beijing. It was fun. let’s just say that after my tour in china that “Fiasco” may well be the third most used word on my page instead of “anyway”. Not that China is bad per se, just that we seem to be encountering our fair share of short stick ends. We’ll leave it at that for now, shall we?
10/18/07 1:30 pm Est.
…So it occurred to me that, while I’ve been here for over two months, I have yet to write about China, which I shall now attempt to do.
China is, well, China. What can I say? Things are different here, sometimes very much so, sometimes almost imperceptibly. It seems that, the world over, one can walk into a McDonald’s and the number 1 extra value meal will be a big mac and fries. This can be a rather reassuring thing when you’ve spent the last six hours trying to find clothing or shoes that will fit you. But aside from that I still find China to be, well, different. There are things that are the same, and things that aren’t, but the main factor is what appears to be the different outlook that these people seem to have. Some may mistake it for rudeness, and while it may be so, I think that its just a cultural difference. Of course this could just be me striving to reject ethnocentric tendencies, I’m not really sure; but the people here could easily come off as rude. Say you’re walking down the street and people barge past you, or cut in line, or a car almost runs you down when you’re crossing the street. These are all things that have happened to me more than a few times in the past two months, and while one could say this behavior is rude, I am not so sure. To me, “Rude” Implies that one is expecting some sort of treatment, usually polite or positive or whatever. I think that these people don’t get out of my way because they don’t expect me to get out of theirs. The driving in this country only reaffirms this theory. Traffic lights are observed most of the time, but lane-changing is a constant activity. If any of you thought my driving was bad, come here and you’ll gain insight into the way I think about traffic ie: find a hole the size of your car and put it there. This is how traffic works here, sometimes it’s a nightmare, most of the time it’s just congested; One gets used to it pretty easily.
As for the rest of China? Well, shopping, for one, can be a chore or an adventure, depending on how you look at it. Unless the store you’re in uses barcodes, the prices are negotiable. I would even go so far as to say that one is expected to bargain here. I bargained considerably for the laptop on which this post is currently being written. Laptop, wifi card, os, another 1/2gb dimm, neoprene sleeve, 10 meter ethernet cable and mouse came in at a grand total of 5,500 RMB, I talked them down to 3,300. I feel that I got a good deal, but I’m sure if I had my translator do it she’d have gotten them down lower, probably significantly lower.
Anyway, 3,300 RMB is about $450, which is about what I wanted to spend in the first place, so I’m not disappointed about that. Aside from the virus I got, this computer has run well. The virus resulted from going to an infected TOR exit point in Latvia. Don't get me wrong, I highly suggest Tor to anyone who is: a) concerned about privacy on the web, or b) connecting to the internet via a method which censors what sites you can or cannot access (ie: China). Tor is great, as anyone looking at my traffic will see me go to a Tor entry point and that's it, then my packets get chopped into tiny bits and sent over our heads and across the room, where they are then rematerialized into much smaller packets that you can take out of the TV and eat. I think. I’m not really sure how it works, but it does. It may or may not taste like chocolate, I’m not sure. Don’t give Slugworth your gobstopper.
Anyway, China. I like it. You can walk down the street drinking a beer, and nobody gives a shit. You can walk into a store with the same beer, and nobody gives a shit. You can get into a cab, while drinking your beer, drive across the city, go to another store and get more beer while drinking the first beer, and nobody gives a shit. You can then take the subway to a nightclub where, surprisingly enough, the mob guy who set up your party will give a shit, but by that point in time you’ll be done with it anyway, so you can just throw it away and get another one somewhere else. I’m not sure about smoking, but I think it’s pretty much the same. I’ll have to ask a smoker (there are lots here).
The bars here don’t close if you’re spending enough money.
The clubs don’t close, period. Some days we have two shows per day. Our load out days are almost always two show days. This should help explain why clubs staying open all night is not necessarily a good thing.
Let’s see, what else… the beer here is cheap. Very cheap. I may have mentioned this before in an earlier post, but l don’t remember if I did or not as I was probably drunk. Like I said, the beer is cheap.
So… what else? The theatres I’ve been in have mostly been shitholes. It doesn’t matter where in the world you are, a shithole theatre is a shithole theatre. We’re currently in the Ningbo Grand Theatre, which is most definitely not a shithole. This thing is huge, pretty, and very, very clean. From the stage left wall to the stage right wall is about a football field or so. Yeah, big. Everybody has all the space they want, we even have room left over for American Gladiator-style aerial battles with the gantry cranes. The stage can drop, and the side stages can slide in sideways in place of it. You can shift an entire set in about 45 seconds with no stage hands. No need to repatch anything either, as the connectors are duplicated on the surfaces. There's also no need to worry about com lines, because the venue has it's own wireless com. No need to run a conductor or FOH camera because there are PTZ cameras already mounted in the positions where we would need them to be. There is building-wide internet access that is pretty fast, even with Tor, so I can update while the show is going on. The side towers move, some of the seats in the house move. Every bell, whistle, and widget is in this place, and most of it is behind nice wood paneling. The main entryway is so big you could put another football field on it. The stairs leading up to it are big enough that they put a KFC and a supermarket underneath them. Needless to say its a good place to fly my helicopter. (read "fly" as "slowly break"). This place has everything you could ever hope to ask for, except dressing room monitors. Yup, that’s right, no dressing room monitors. And you’ll need monitors in the dressing rooms, because they’re about 450 feet away from the stage. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s hilarious in a Murphy’s law sort of way, and this is a vast improvement over the theatre in Hang Zhou. That one smelled like cat shit. You know why? Because cats were living in the orchestra pit, which explains why the theatre didn’t have a problem with mice. Just cat shit. What can I say? Cats shouldn't be in theatres.
Still, It has been a fun experience to this point. I’m digging the work and the learning and all that happy action. I find it really nice to get up and go to a job I enjoy doing. That even counts for the load outs, the first of which took 16.5 hours. They've gotten better, though, the last one was only about 8. For 6 trucks, in China, that's pretty damn good. Communicating with the locals, however, is touch and go. For the most part the crews haven’t been that bad. Hang Zhou was probably our worst local crew. They weren’t big on listening, and that’s sort of a problem. There was also a communication problem between the presenters and the house. For the in we didn’t have a fork lift. We raised hell and the out was much better. They provided a fork lift, it just wouldn’t start. So the truck loaders decided to push start it. A forklift. A Diesel forklift. Yeah, it worked really well. About this time one loader found some 20 foot span sets and decided to get his truck so they could tow start the forklift. He proceeded to get his truck (which would do well to tow a beer keg) and hook it up to said forklift. Inside we were fairing equally well. One local had already been sent to the hospital because he got his foot run over (I actually got my own foot run over by one of our (thankfully empty) speaker tower carts). After that fiasco, our intrepidly deaf crew bumbled along with the load out until it was time to put the deck on our deck carts.
Let’s take a moment to set the scene, shall we? We have two deck carts, each holds approximately 35 4x8 sheets of plywood that is faced on one side with masonite. It weighs about 110lbs per sheet. The carts are of course built to handle this weight, and are made out of 4x2 box steel. Imagine a steel cube that is about three feet deep, nine feet long, and five feet tall, with one of the top spans removable so you can load about 35 sheets of plywood into it. 35 sheets that weigh 110 lbs apiece. Ok, the scene is set.
So the carpenters gave very specific loading and handling instructions. Only load one sheet at a time, hold them by the top from the back of the cart, don’t stick your hands in the sides to hold the sheets, and above all, if the pile starts to fall over, let it go! This was explained to the locals by our carpenters and two different interpreters, as it was a very important point and nobody wanted 1.5 tons of plywood falling on anybody. The locals proceeded to load the cart and all went well until the stack started to go. Fortunately everybody but one person was paying attention to the safety lecture and took their hands off. The one remaining person stuck his hand inside the cart and tried to stop the huge stack of plywood from tipping over. As the stack was quite large at this point, this didn’t quite work as he had hoped. "Catastrophically failed" would be a better way to describe what happened next, as the stack of wood hit the man’s hand in the middle of the palm, and proceeded to fold it over on itself. Backwards. You know in the cartoons when the guy gets his hand crushed between two gears? It looked kinda like that. Yeah, he broke it.
Anyway, so this broken-handed man proceeded to go into shock, which is understandable as his hand was purple and rapidly approaching the size of your average honeydew melon. Being as this man was in bad shape, the local crew chief called an ambulance and we went back to work. 20 minutes later we got a call on the radio that the ambulance was there, but couldn't get in because the truck which was trying to pull-start the forklift now had a burnt out clutch, and was blocking the way.
…I swear, you can’t make this shit up.
A couple of days ago we went to the Indian Kitchen, which is a great little place. I ordered a vindaloo, which wasn’t that hot, a fact I found surprising until Felix started eating his dish. It turns out that he got the vindaloo and I got his marsala, so this place fulfilled the destiny of all good Indian restaurants by giving a screaming hot dish to the wrong person.
These are just a few of the stories that have amassed since I got here. There are many more, and I’ll put some of them up at some point in time. Also, my comments don’t seem to be working any longer, is that a China thing, or are they broken for you ‘states based people as well? If somebody could let me know via some form of communication, that’d be great. Until then. Comments
10/10/ 07 11:11 am est
So, this is my first official post from a laptop at a bar (well, not officially my first official post, because the “Free wifi” in this place is nonexistent, so this post is actually delayed and from my hotel room later on.)
Why would I be posting at such an interesting place as a bar in Nanjing? Well, the service sucks, and the two snobbishly coquettish Asian girls hogging the table only pretend not to speak English when talking to me, so trying to get next game is proving rather difficult.
So, yeah. Setting the scene, I got bored, and remembered “hey, theres a Laptop in my bag, and I’m just the sort of antisocial drunkard to whip it out and stick it in the proverbial mashed potatoes!
Yup, that’s how I got here, being bored, and a bit drunk, and THOSE BTCHES ARE STILL AT THE FUCKING POOL TABLE! And now they have a friend… and she’s decent at pool…
And she doesn’t speak English, either. Dammit. A decent game of billiards in this country is entirely too hard to come by. Alas, but I shan’t grieve too much, as no doubt I’d get the table, and my boss would promptly whip my ass.
So I guess this post has pretty much devolved into a series of slightly long sentences marked as paragraphs. But what is one to do, esp. when faced with the slightly boring, highly distractible Location that a bar happens to be? Well, I plan to get another beer, and politely-yet-very-passively-aggressively stare down the three ladies playing pool.
… Now there are four of them. Fuck.
OK, perhaps I should give up on the billiards idea for the evening. Yet, I feel certain that at some point these people will give up their quest at sinking even ONE ball, and will go about their business of not being able to hold their liquor over another table.
Of course, by the time they get done playing, I’ll be too drunk to shoot well.(::smack:: Bad Pathos! No! oooh! side note: Pathos would be a great dog's name.)
Annnyway... not to say that I’m a lightweight, but three beers after a full day and 8 hours since the last meal gets me a little tipsy. I do not consider this to be a bad thing. Speaking of, today was weigh in for the company (cast only, but the crew does it as well in the name of solidarity). I topped out at 282.5 which, while it doesn’t sound that hot, is 22.5 pounds lighter than I was when I left Chattanooga. Now, I haven’t been actively trying to loose weight over here, and the water I drank in longgang probably helped a lot, but that is still a good start in my book. Now, if I can just keep it up for another 80 pounds I’ll be in decent shape.
Ok, big turn of events. Of the four people trying to play pool, the first two girls (who so politely ignored the fuck out of me earlier) happen to be a couple. And they just re-racked. Fuck this, I’m going to call the pool aspect quits and follow their lead. Later.
P.S: Ok, the waitress just came running up to me with a ticket and shouted “Money Money Money, Mo-ney!” This is officially the best bar ever.The next morning…
So, yeah, “later on from my hotel room” turned into “when I woke up”.
The outcome of the evening? We did eventually get to play pool, and my geekiness persevered in having the right cable with which to connect an ipod to the house system. In essence, we started to take over the bar. That went well and good until about 2:00 when the bar wanted to close, so I wound my way out and on to the streets to get a taxi. On the way home (in said taxi), the driver kept slowing down and pointing at people on the roadside. Thinking he was lost, I kept pointing at the directions on my hotel card and saying “Jigansu Beilu” (the name of the street the hotel is on). Eventually I figured out what he was doing and shut up…
You know you need to get laid when even your cab driver tries to pick up a prostitute for you. Comments
09/10/07 4:18 pm est
two months, 12,000 miles, and MAN, what a diffrenece. Chattanooga, and my time spent in it, seems long in the past to me. let's just say i've been busy. busy working, busy living, but most importantly, busy Learning. I spent the first two weeks in longgang running my ass off and figuring out what the hell I Was doing, ie: getting used to working at this scale of theatre. It's big, professional,and fun. Colle (my boss) says he wants me to start mixing the show soon, since he's tired of mixing 8 shows a week (can't say that I blame him.)
so I'm to start learning the show, instead of sititng backstage and babysitting the 50 wireless mics that we're running for this show. needless to say, I am jazzed at this turn of events, and the pm1d is no longer the slightly scary huge pile of adjustable parameters that I so recently thought it was. This is an hugely exciting turn of events for me, and represents a step forward into my professional career. and this is going to be my career, btw. I love the shit out of this, I'll have no problem doing this for the next 10,15,or even 20 years. the money ain't bad, either, and the paychecks are only going to go in one direction, and that ain't down.
the downside to this, of course, is that I won't be able to see you guys all that much, and that really blows. being able to stay in touch via the internet and cheap cell phone minutes definitely helps, but I still wonder what you guys are up to, over there and 12 hours back (well, 15 for holly).
China is weird. oddly the same in some ways, but then you realize "oh yeah, 5x the population of the 'states", and it kinda drags you back into reality. not to mention the fact that this country has yet to discover decent cheese. Also, china appears to be very big on breaks. this makes clubs almost endurable, esp. when the booze is free.
I'll try to write a bit more introspectively next time, as I feel there is much to say,but at the moment I'm confused as just how to dig it out. maybe i'll jot something down when I'm bored and backstage, but as that won't happen tonight, it'll be a little while in coming. 'course that's not exactly anything new for this site, is it?
Speaking of this site,the other day(before I had Tor running), I had to access it via the wayback machine to bypass china's bigass (and largely ineffectual) firewall. I read my way back through it, and damn, do I come off like a tool. self-absorbed pathos seems to be all i've been writing about for the past 7 years, and I don't want to keep going in that vein. it seems like such a waste! so I'm going to try and make posts here of a constructive nature, or at least something I can stomach reading in seven years.
anyway, bus call is in ten minutes,and like larry says, it leaves when it leaves. ie: if it's moving and you ain't on it, you ain't getting on it. go catch a cab, Tardy McSnoozebutton. I shall talk to you guys later.
08/03/07 4:19 pm est
So, here we go then. It's gonna be weird, but I'm looking forward to it. I leave for the airport in 40 minutes, and, to be honest, I'm rather quite nervous for some reason. Can't say why per se, as I'm not worried about flight travel or anything, but the sensation is definitely close to that feeling you get when you're about to walk onstage opening night. I have no idea when I'll update again, it could be tommorrow, could be a month, could be a year (could be never, but I doubt that very much). Suffice to say that I love dearly and will miss muchly all of you.
Yup, that pretty much covers it. 'Til next time.
San Dimas High School Football Rules!
05/20/07 3:31 am est
05/17/07 4:41 pm est
http://www.vidmax.com/index.php/videos/view/1674 dude. too fucking funny. In case you didn't get that last message, I'm going to china in august, for at least a year. woot! I really can't wait. Now if I could just make the rest of my rent money, I'd be golden. Comments
04/14/07 3:12 pm est
This Is Going To Rock
03/21/07 12:47 am est
I've got court in fifteen hours, whatever...
This motherfucker can flow like no other.
also, I realized that, instead of making individual pages for youtube videos, that I could just link directly to them. Yes, I am silly.
03/09/07 11:34 pm est
So, the youtube videos make my page load slow as shit, and I'm about to move them to a second page. But before I do that (because I'm a lazy fuck. (read: duh)), I'm posting the following, I didn't even remember that radiohead was at the second woodstock. regardless, this is an amazing performance. the mixing is amazing, and here's how you can tell: the crowd is standing still, they're listening, and that's it. Now you know why I want to do what I want to do.
ok, So I did it already
02/24/07 3:03 (cause everybody needs a 303) am est
Yeah, I know I've not posted much of substance of late, but hey, haven't hat much news in the realm of Rhys. Significant news of a nature to be determined will be forthcoming, so you can look forward to that in coming months. but until then, This is just about the funniest thing I've seen since this Yeah.Comments (2)
1/20/07 12:45 am est
Most of you probably already have, but in case you haven't, Words cannot express just how badly you all need to go see Children of Men. That was quite possibly the best movie I've seen in my life. It's the sort of movie that makes food taste better after you've seen it, the sort of movie that will make you glad you're in love with somebody, or wish you were. It has been quite awhile since I've been brought out of this coma that I've come to call my life, and this movie proved to be the catalyst. So: go see it. See it sober, and with someone, for it’s just one of those things that requires at least an additional person, so that you can say who you were with when you saw Children Of Men. Comments (2)
1/14/1 11:37 am est
So I found this on youtube this morning. You should check it out. not saying I Agree with it, but still 1
1/9/07 6:35 pm est
So I got this 900 mhz g3 ibook from my sister. It had a video problem (which, upon further research was called "the dreaded ibook video issue", as apparently it is quite common among this model. Anyway, the first fix I saw onlie envolved fixing it by putting a small metal cup on the GPU, filling it with white gas, and lighting it on fire. The second required warming the chip with a heat gun, using small pieces of solder on top of the chip to tell when the chip was hot enough to melt solder. I was all set to try this one when I read of a third method which used shims to push the gpu back on to the ball grid array to which it was so badly mounted in the first place. Since this method had the highest opportunity for success, and wouldn't result in the ibook possibly catching fire, I went with it. I'm writing this post on said ibook. Sure, it spazzes out every once in awhile, but hey, it works. I Rule! also, I found this today, and it's awesome
12/03/06 9:44 pm est
Holly's update reminded me that I've had some more Balderdash answers lying around that I needed to put in table form. I went ahead and posted them here as well, 'cause I liked the way it looked on holly's page, so I'm totally going to rip off her idea.
|Jesse||Prunella|| fuckin' God, I have to piss... |
|Jesse||Tyrosemiophily|| If you though the Fibonacci Sequence was sexed up, wait 'til tyrone brings
it as applied to his bitches. |
|Chuck||Omphaloskepsis||Single word for saying "In every way the equal to UnderSiege". |
|Jesse||Popdock|| Pop Secret mounts to your deskop now! You can't escape! |
|Rhys||Omphaloskepsis|| Ever look at the futon under blacklight?|
|???||Omphaloskepsis||futon, Vagina,Snoop,Ditka,BEARS. |
|Jesse||Omphaloskepsis||Scully's Papsmear |
|Jesse||W.F.P.F.C|| World Federation of Perpetual Freakin' Capitalism |
|Jesse||???||chocolate Soldier! Oh dude, I dated one of those! |
|Adam||Liebig|| Ceci n'est pas une penis.(drawing of penis with dots/warts or something) |
|Adam||Distlefink||German for "Drop it like it's hot" (It's hard not to talk filthy in German). |
|Jesse||Skoob||Me an' skoobs gonnas make the cotten real fine fo ya massah! |
|Rhys||Skoob||Boobs: the silent killer. |
|Rachel||Skoob||What Jesse did while he wasn't "having sex" on the futon - he skoobed. |
|Mada||Skoob|| !ssabmud ...yrarbil eht ni peek yeht tahw. |
|Rhys||Dewlap|| Chuck + $20 + stripper =|
|Chuck||Liebig||Jeni's crotch. Yeah, 4th time's the charm. Seriously... Move on. It's mighty cold
down there. Or so i'm told. |
|Jesse||distlefink||Jeni's crotch, for real this time. |
|Sean||???||Testicles, that is all. |
|Rhys||Liebig||True Gangsta relaxation |
|Chuck||Dewlap||Running a 1/4 mile while drinking a Mountain Dew. god this pen blows. Not Funny. I
|Rhys||Distlefink||ben, Drunk. (Jeni's crotch) |
|Adam||Popdock||Bugs Bunny with an oedipus complex, but gay |
Jeni is tied up on your fucking bed and you're out of town while minors
are getting action all up in your shit and you're unable to stop it and
will is getting some from your co-worker leslie who's cute but not
really doable... Fuckin titbow, man. that shit is a real titbow, Fuck! |
|Rhys||titbow||The most entertaining way to wrap a present ever! |
|Jesse||titbow||caligula's favorite weapon |
|chuck||Distlefink||Seriously. fuckin cold down there. |
|Adam||Titbow||You're pronouncing it wrong, it's "Dolly Parton's curtain call". |
|chuck||???|| Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut
up, shut up. Ke, ke, ke, ke, ke, ke, oh snap. |
|Adam||Dewlap||Asian knockoff tools by black & pecker. |
|Jesse||Liebig||Don't lie small, lie big! with liebig!(tm) |
|Adam||Scrobiculate||to earn one's degree in testiculology*
*man, that rolls off the tounge. |
|Chuck||W.F.P.F.C||1) williams Fucks Privates First Class.
2) Women For Penises Fucking Cunts |
|Rhys||W.F.P.F.C|| Who Fucked Pink Floyd's Couch |
|Joe||W.F.P.F.C||What Foul Porpoise Fucked Charlie? |
|Rhys||Scrobiculate||What would have happened if Joe Hadn't woken up. |
|???||PopDock||K-fed's REAL single |
|Adam||Tyrosemiophily||1) when yoiu're in Pennsylvania and you call on Tyrone.
2) To throw a jew into a tornado. |
|Adam||W.F.P.F.C|| Winklehawl Frantling Private First Class |
|Sean||???||NEVER TRUST A GAY MAN AND SPELLING |
|Rhys||Tyrosemiophily||The hobby of collecting half-stamps of Tyra Banks |
|Rhys||PopDock||A dance style that mimics ocean liners |
|Rhys||Popdock|| Mooring for the Pepisi(tm) Deathstar. |
|Rhys||Popdock|| Where we tie up the coke stage.|
|Joe||???||It involves a Lava Dredger |
|Chuck||scrobiculate||to wonder whether to spit or swallow. Like, "Jesse totally scrobiculated a
minute ago." |
12/03/06 2:58 pm est
Do you want to see the most beautiful thing in the world?
11/29/06 10:49 pm est
I can't make shit like this up.
well, I can, but only with the help of mike and whiskey.
11/16/06 5:13 pm est
I'll talk later.
10/14/06 12:31 pm est
These may well be proof that I'm in the wrong country. 1
10/08/06 2:02 pm est
So I'd hoped to have some more promising content by now, but this spot of randomness just happened across my attention span.
08/16/06 6:26 pm est
Most of you have probably seen this. That does not mean it does not rock.
Oh yes, oh yes.Comments
08/13/06 3:10 pm est
I don't remember how/where/when/what flavor I found this, but the important thing is that I did. Posted again, because for some reason, angelfire ate my first post. Somebody get me the fuck ouf my apartment.Comments (3)
08/07/06 6:13 pm est
What a difference a week makes, 168 little hours...
I'm actually kinda suprised that I called it that
accurately. (acutally, it stopped bugging me a couple of days ago, but
still, I'm patting myself on the back.
wait for it.... wait for it... hold... HOLD!!! HOLLDDDDDD!!!!!!
Don't! It's a trap!
07/31/06 8:34 am est
"I spoke too soon" just dosen't seem to cut it.
Nothin doin. Nada. reliable 3rd party information has it that i'm "annoying". ergo: I tried too hard. Duh.
No real suprise there, thanks for the support, even if you saw it coming a mile away like I did. Honestly It's nice, for now I can finally add a modicum of relief to the melancholy mix that has of late comprised the bulk of my emotional status. Maybe in six months and (hopefully), sixty pounds, the situation will be different. I doubt it, but I don't really care. If, in six months, I'm still agonizing over this, I'll have more to worry about than some failed attempt and a doomed love interest.
I don't think that'll be the case, though. I have other shit to worrry about, and other women to lust after. I mean, if in the past 48 hours I've been able to talk myself through various emotional states, htis probably wasn't of the significance I thought it was. And now I have closure, whihc only helps to seal the deal. Sure, I'll be pissy for a week or so, but, come on, like that hasn't been and on-again, off-again state anyway. It just comes with the territory, I'm and emotional ossiclator. (Inveterd square wave, if anybody cares, even though that's more of a function generator.)
I love how I sabotage things even while trying not to. Must be some sort of subconscious bull in a china shop, right? Well, I am a taurus.Comments
07/28/06 6:31 am est
Yeah. Just Yeah. Call me the king of relapses. Yes, I spoke too soon; Rub my nose in it, bitchass! I don't give a shit about the readability of this, check the disclaimer: that was never what this site has been about. Sometimes I'm more straightforward and literal than others. It is unfortunate for me to say that my life cannot always be expressed in a picture perfect essay format. I can't always make it pretty, that's either not how my life goes, or that's not how I choose to live it. Is there a difference? I, for one, am not so sure.
Yeah, guys, it has happened again (and no, not the fact that I started two consecutive paragraphs with the same word.) Get ready to utter that hearty, derisive "I-told-you-so" laughter, as I again find myself infatuated with a woman. A woman with whom I have little to no chance.
Why would this be? Well, A little run down of my romantic life will reveal that my relationships (save one, maybe two), have been based on the long shot (this is why they are so rare, and thus so intense). Let us look at the most important to this point: Chelsea.
I'd known her for a year when I returned from Governor's School, but something was different. I don't think much of that change was her, But I came back from MTSU ready to start a long-term relationship. I don't know "why", or for that matter "why not" with Missy, suffice to say that Missy wasn't "the one". I treated her like shit, and to this day I feel bad about it, but what's done is done, and cannot be retracted. But I digress...
I came back from Governor's School looking for Chelsea.
I, of course, did not not realize this at the time, but it was true nonetheless. It took me a little over a month to realize this; until Chelsea's birthday party at Melton Lake. I won't lie to you, the swimsuit helped... A Lot.
I couldn't take my eyes off her. I don't know how it happened, but here was this girl, this woman, this amazingly sexual, sensual, astoundingly beautiful being. I didn't immediately realize it, but I fell in love with Chelsea that day; for it was on that day that I realized her existence in this world was simply too amazing to comprehend.
Thus I began to woo her, to court her, to win her heart, and the right to call myself the happiest man on this planet.
Well, happiest boy. I was 17; who are we kidding here?
The process was an arduous one, fraught with the difficulties that only a high school student can possess. There were days where I was sure that my task was doomed, and I almost wished there was no tomorrow. Then there were the days when She Smiled, or would talk to me, and no beacon (not even the Sun) could have shone brighter than my soul.
Through some unknown, Amazing way, Chelsea started to respond.
Be it Fate, Karma, Divine Intervention, or Luck, I don't know (or care). Maybe she knew all along, but the situation improved; I could talk to her, She would talk to me. We seemed to get along. At Chuck's Party, October 21st, 1998,(though our anniversary was the 14th), I finally got the nerve: I asked, She agreed. We were Boyfriend and Girlfriend, and the next 20 months were the most sublime one could hope to ask for.
The Rise, was, of course, followed by The Fall, and, of course, it happened. Interestingly enough, this whole ordeal was pretty much done by October 2000, almost two years after Chelsea and I started dating, and also the time I started this website. These facts are not coincidental, as I started this site as a journal to help keep myself sane. The Jury is still deliberating on it's success, and, to my guess, will be for some time.
However, that is still how I started writing here. Now I'll spare you the six years of summation between then and now; If you want to know, you merely need scroll down. It's all there, every glorious, badly punctuated, non-capitalized word of it. It always will be, 'cause that's just how I roll.
So why the sudden relapse to introspection? Well, check the 'Site, folks; unfortunately it follows a pattern. Be that pattern one I am seemingly forced to follow, or choose to; I do not know; but follow it I do, and (presumably), follow it I will.
It's starting again; these feelings I have not felt for eight years, and to be honest, I did not know if I would ever feel them again. But I do, and this time they are for Britt. That's why, I'm drawing my skills, my faculties, my every ounce of creative determination. I'm gonna fight for this Girl, and I need your help. Unfortunately, life finds me in a different situation this time. I am less fit, more jaded, and less sure of myself. Add to this the fact that Britt is skittish, afraid, and Not Attracted To Me, and you too will find that the prognosis is grim. At the very best, I have my work cut out for me.
I am not saying this will not happen; nor am I pining away in self-sorrow hoping for sympathy (no matter how this may sound). Your understanding I will graciously appreciate, but sorrow and sympathy you will please leave at the coat check. Our maid is quite competent, and she will see that these articles are returned to you post haste.
This time, I'm going for it. Will it work out? I don't know, but I haven't felt this way for a long time. It's not going to be easy, or for that matter, particularly fun; but when it comes down to it, I don't have a choice.
It's been awhile; but this time I have my experience to draw upon. I've done enough of the cheating(once), the lying(duh), the waffling(plenty), and, above all, the "waiting for the perfect moment"(far too often), to know that they offer their teachings, but cannot be allowed to impugn my directive, at least not now. I am going to fight for the love of this woman, because right now, the world doesn't seem worth a damn without it.
She doesn't know anything about this. I've kept it
that way to the best of my abilities. You are reading (as you always
have been), the monologue of one who is perpetually trapped in one's
But that doesn't matter.
I don't know how this will end, or how I will come out of it. The fact remains that I don't really care; this is the first time, in a long time, that something has mattered enough for me, and I'm damn well going to follow it through to it's conclusion, whatever that may be. Goodnight, and Good Luck.
06/27/06 8:22 PM EST
Half-Life 2: Episode 1 rocks my face off. You get to play alongside Alyx, who is better than Barney because she never dies. This is a good thing.Alyx also has unlimited ammunition, and I think that if you're really low on health, she may just be able to give you a boost.
So the first half of that game was the last half of my weekend, and I must say that it was quite a bit of fun. After Wisconsin, I fell off the wagon for a bit, but I've clambered on anew, target date is new-years-ish, we'll see how that works out.
My writings are much more splayed logically when I update merely for the sake of updating, when I don't have much to say, but I had to start somewhere. You see, things are afoot which may spell a good deal of positive change in my life, and I had to make a post to mark the start of all that. Not going to most too many details right now (read: none), but lets just say that I'm about to get up off my ass and DO something.
Also, if you are considering the purchase of a radio controlled helium blimp, avoid the cheaper models. Sure, it was only $15, but it also requires six additional balloons to achieve buoyancy, much less hold a tiny wireless camera. Thus my shark blimp has several brightly colored lamprey attached to it, and the effect is ruined. It's also about as maneuverable as a brick, because, well, it pretty much is a brick. A very light brick. With fans. And a tail. I'm thinking I might try to make my own envelope, and just keep the electronics. I'll make it work somehow because hell, it's a flying Shark, and I mean, come on, what's cooler than that?Comments
05/16/06 3:20 pm est.
Lately I've been asking myself about happiness.
See, I haven't in the least felt happy for quite some time now, and
have spent countless hours, and dollars (read: being human), seeking a
solution. As a result of this research, I can now for a fact tell you
these certain things about what happiness is not:
1) It does not hide at the bottom of glass bottles (I have checked many different styles, shapes and colors to no avail: please try again zxy674398bg#4)
2) It is not brought about by eating a handful of Xanax. You will, however, have some of the best sleep of your life and wake up under the couch. Before this happens, expect to narrowly escape being caught skinny-dipping at your place of employment. Had I not shaved the day before, we may not have been mistaken for guests. Also, thank god for visually obscuring bubbles.
4) A well-packed bowl may bring about temporary euphoria, but only through distraction.
5) Nitrous oxide makes you too stupid to realize you're still unhappy. Then it gives you a headache, and you are likely to fall asleep vis-à-vis the couch.
6) MDMA will make you a five year old. My closet is incontrovertible proof of this. Also makes one quite whiny.
7) Hallucinogens aren't actually real. This fact you will learn when/if you take them. All of the sensations caused by them, and subsequent actions performed by you in response to said sensations, are indeed very real, and you will be held responsible for them in the morning when everybody has come back to earth. Don't try to sleep with your friends when on acid. Ever.
8) Radios are the work of the devil. They make the person on the other end the dumbest thing in existence. If a slime mold could work a PTT button (which it can't), then it would be smarter than 90% of my co-workers (half of whom also cannot operate a PTT button)
9) Beer makes me Rather Quite Drunk. I do very stupid things when I am RQD, and therefore have decided to regulate this very strictly.
Yes, I've pretty much quit drinking. Due to my
overwhelming consciousness of fact #9 I've decided that I need to watch
this activity before I get myself, or somebody else, killed. Climbing
over a barbed-wire fence at 4 am and taping shotgun shells to a
railroad track is, in fact, not a good idea (I removed the shot first,
but still, stupid).
I've found that sobriety has interesting side effects. The first being the existence of a very strange thing called morning. I've found I don't like morning very much, and morning has found that it doesn't like me very much either. Thus we have decided to go back to our previous relationship, and I agreed to return to calling morning "Bright Nighttime". Relations have improved markedly.
Sobriety also removes the filter on life. I'd
forgotten what clarity was. (On a side note, I think I need glasses,
turns out the blur wasn't the rheum of intoxication I thought it was).
I feel everything, for the first month I was a manic-depressive, constantly swinging through emotions at the drop of a hat, or #8.
Having run this course, I now know in all certainty that the following things will induce happiness:
1) Bendy roads with hills
2) Standing in the middle of a tree during a wind storm
5) Diving (skin and scuba)
6) Hug Attacks
7) Frisbee golf
8) Blue Hair Dye
9) Heading southbound on I-75 at 90 MPH with four or five other fast drivers, a freshly burned CD massaging your cochlea, passing mile marker 26 and, upon seeing the blinking headlights of a passing white infinity, slowing down as the lot of you roll past the hidden state trooper at exactly seventy miles per hour. Whoo-ah. Fuck The Man.
Happiness does indeed go sparkle. Happiness can be expressed as a function of itself, and has, in fact, been to Africa EVEN ONCE since 1975. It comes from synergy, from being Madagascar because you were trying to see what all the fuss was about. From the sunburn on the back of your neck that you got from working outside all day. From That Kiss and That Smile. From bringing the funny. From looking down at a 44 magnum and knowing why you're not going to put it to your head and pull the trigger. Because I'm not fucking done yet, and I just found that out. Comments (4)
04/05/06 3:38 pm est
03/02/06 10:08 pm est
Q: what do you get when you cross a pneumatic actuator, a pressure vessel for said actuator, a electrically operated regulator manifold, a drop-in ceiling and 20 cubic feet of packing peanuts?
A: Indoor snow. that'll teach my boss to put shaving cream in the pockets of MY BRAND NEW UNION JACKET.
on other fronts, i found out today that a co-worker of mine had to resign because he was going to jail. that sucks, i felt for him, thinking that he went for DUI or something. oh no, he went to jail for 1st degree murder, and by murder, i mean shooting a 64 year old woman in the chest after he robbed her store. I mean, i knew this guy, i worked with this guy, he was a pretty laid back guy, kinda funny, not the hardest worker, but not a bad guy. and he shot an old woman. in the chest. after he robbed her. not sure how i feel about that. Comments (3)
02/25/06 1:10 am est
...updating at a party yet again... this time for a good reason... i must account to those of you who haven't heard, the events which transpired this thursday last. if you haven't seen the myspace movie, watch it first, then read on. what follows is a harrowing, soul-shattering tale of just what can happen when you disregard "the angles" (in verse form)
Trust the Angles
(to: Hallelujah, by jeff buckley)
Well I signed on to, my myspace page
she'd messaged me, thought I might get laid
but then she went and had "the angles" dinn't she?
with the pics like this:
one light, one dark, one at a club, one in a park
and foolish me, I thought she might be pretty
watch the angles, watch the angles, watch the angles, watch the angles
Well I saw her pics, thought that she was fine
I invited her, for some half-priced wine
in my lonely mind, some troubled thoughts did linger.
well, she showed up in a ragged shirt
wearing vampire teeth, and a fishnet skirt
I shook her hand; she tried to bite my finger
trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles
so I bought the wine, tried to tough it out
she said, "I can't 'cause I've got the gout"
I hoped my backup plan would call and save me
but 10:30 came, stacy didn't call
there was just no way I could stand it all
So I reached into my pocket for my car key
trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles
well I said: "im tired", and that fact rang true
she said: "can I come home with you?"
Her crazy side had proved to be a sleeper
I got up to go pay my bill
she called after me, voice high and shrill
I think you're cute, you just might be a keeper
trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles
well I called stacy, and I let her know
she'd subjected me, to a horror show
by forgetting me, and leaving me to languish
for the scarring's sure, to last quite a while
it'll take much drink, to restore my smile
because of that one fateful night of anguish.
trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles
trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles, trust the angles
It's funny 'cause it's true.
01/21/06 9:57 pm est
so i finally got away from the bar-mitsvah kids. thank god, there are only so many times one can listen to the "thong song". anyway, i found this today. i got 24 out of 33 (it wouldn't give me 32, which is obvious, and i HAD IT RIGHT, DAMMIT! so i should have 25. but oh well. the others i got were 1-8,10-13,15,16,18,21,23-29, and 33. you guys should tell me what you got.Comments (8)
12/31/05 2:57 pm est
just posted the new Balderdash answers. two batches, round six was last night. so that's that. also in the box was the following quote. i have no idea where it came from, but it's funny.
Rhys: I was born in Wisconsin, I know from cheese.
Matt: I was born in Alabama, I know from cousins.
there ya go, i'll see most of you at edwards.Comments (2)
12/17/05 2:32 pm est
What follows is a tale of road trips, bad food and ignorance (Otherwise known as ï¿½Thursdayï¿½).
Don't ever go to a sushi restaurant named after a dog. Just donï¿½t.It all started Thursday, I was hanging out with my friend Thalan, And we had already escalated to "Rare form".We were playing the newly introduced (by me) ï¿½Action Duck huntï¿½, When he got a call from his friend Brandon, in Morristown. He wanted to go pick him up for the weekend, but didnï¿½t have a ride. Naturally, I told him Iï¿½d take him if he was willing to cover gas. (Note to audience, I discovered that Morristown is ONE HELL OF A LONG WAY AWAY FROM CHATTANOOGA (Iï¿½d confused it with Athens, for some reason)).
He agrees, and off we set to get his friend.
The journey to Morristown was excruciating. We "oooh'ed" as we passed the grain silo that was destroyed by a tornado. The "ahhh's" practically leapt from our mouths when we caught a lucky glimpse of the Oldest Cow in Tennessee. When we saw one of the new purple-spotted milk trucks advertising the local dairy, I had to hold my legs together for fear of wetting myself.
We FINALLY got to Morristown, Picked up Brandon, his Girlfriend Gina, and, since they wanted sushi (the story is about a sushi restaurant, I donï¿½t think I need to go into the vast chapters of sorkinesque dialogue that resulted in the decision to eat it), rolled into the bustling metropolis that is Morristown. Morristown is less like a city and more like an experiment in lack of sensory input. Everything is remarkably bland, the scenery blending together into a dull beige almost everywhere we looked ï¿½ with the notable exception of the Akita Express sushi restaurant.
WOW. The only word to describe the restaurant was "festive." It was so stereotypically Japanese that I expected to see Chosen and Daniel-san fighting in the parking lot as Mr. Myiagi spun his hand-drum. There were paper lanterns strung from the periphery of the building, each one shaped as a bulb or a fish. The walkway was made of pebbles, bonsai trees scattered amongst bronze statues of samurai in the courtyards on either side of the path. The doors were made of steel and glass (but refaced to resemble wood and rice paper), and opened on tracks horizontally, just as you would expect from any door in any Japanese-themed movie. As we drew nearer, the "plings" and "twangs" of traditional Koto music could be heard growing louder, until I eventually realized they were played through a synthesizer.
Thalan was severely amused. "God ï¿½ look at this place! THIS RULES!" He broke into a fit of laughter.
"This place looks like it landed here after being kicked out of Japan by Godzilla," I agreed.
"Hey, this is the best weï¿½ve got,ï¿½ said Brandon. His voice was hushed but his tone was stern. "Please be appreciative."
"Fine," I said. "I just hope everyone isn't kung-fu fighting."
We were greeted by a tall white girl dressed in a kimono who looked as a traditional Japanese woman would, if Abercrombie and Fitch had existed in feudal Japan. "Ko-Neeeeechy Wah!" she shrieked.
The only thing that could have been more degrading to the Japanese would have been Charlie Chan videos playing from monitors in the lobby, or a scale model of a World War II internment camp made of Legos.
We were escorted to a table, where our server, a young girl dressed as a geisha, soon greeted us, her blonde hair tied in a bun and skewered by chopsticks.
"Kon Bahhhhhn Wahhhhh, and welcome to Akita Express. I am Tiffany-san, and I will be your server. Can I start you out with a Coke or beer?" She twanged.
"Tiffany-san, are you aware that you just called yourself ï¿½Mister Tiffany' in Japanese?" I asked.
I shook my head. "I'd like green tea, please." (I'm getting sick, figured it would help)
"It's bottled, is that OK?"
"Yes. It's Sobe, I think."
"You don't have brewed green tea?"
"What kind of Japanese place doesn't have hot green tea?" I asked. Brandon was giving me a look.
"Fine, yeah, Iï¿½ll have thatï¿½ I said. That solved that.
She took the rest of our drink orders. "Domoh Arrey Gatoo! I will be right back with those!"
A few minutes later, she came back with my ice-cold bottle of Sobe. "So what can I get for you tonight?"
"Rhys, youï¿½ve had sushi before, what should we get?ï¿½ asked Thalan.
"Well, I highly recommend the Seppuku," I said without thinking.
Thalan choked on his water. Brandon shot me a look that should have left an exit wound.
Gina spoke up, "Ooh, that sounds exotic. What is it?"
"Well, if I told you, you may not try it. Trust me, it's good."
"Ummï¿½" our annoying little Geisha chimed up, "I don't know if we have that here."
"Trust me, all the GOOD sushi places have it. Go back and ask the chef to give you the Seppuku."
"Um, OK ... I'll be right back!" She shuffled off to the chef station.
Everyone at the table began to demand to know about Seppuku. I explained the laws of bushido to them, giving a brief history on the ritual of Seppuku. As I was getting to the part where the samurai would slide the blade of the knife across the intestines and then thrust it upward into his heart, our server returned.
"Our chefs said they can't do that."
"Aww, that's a SHAME!" I replied. "I had my heart set on the Seppuku!"
Everyone at the table winced at my pun.
"When I asked the chefs what it was, they all started laughing. What is it?"
"Oh, it's really good. You should DEFINITELY try it sometime."
"Okay, is there something else I can get for you?"
"Well, if there's one thing I like better than a chef doing Seppuku, it's several of them making Bukkake!"
Thalan was dying. Brandon sat stone-faced, unable to look at me.
"It usually takes more than one person to make it," I explained. "And since there are four of us, all of your chefs may have to join in to make enough. Ask them if they have time, and tell them we are patient and will wait for It."
She scribbled a bit on her pad, and shuffled away to ask the chefs for the third most searched word on Google.
"OK," Gina Stated, "I demand to know what Bukkake is."
"Well, it's when a mommy and a daddy, and a daddy, and a dadd..."
"NO!" Brandon raised his hand to my mouth. "Gina, you do NOT want to know!"
I glanced over at the chef station to see them howling with laughter. Our server was talking to a tall dark-haired white guy who looked like the manager of the restaurant. She pointed over at our table, and we decided to calm it down.
When our server returned, I kept my quips to myself. She recommended the "shrimp roll thingies" and "some smoked salmon things ... I don't remember what they are called, but they are really good." I ordered the California roll, and a tuna roll, as I figured theyï¿½d be the two safest items in the place (also, neither come with any ï¿½special sauceï¿½).
My hopes were dashed as the food was placed before me. Each piece looked as if it was hacked from the body of the fish with a chainsaw. The platter had an unmistakably "fishy" smell, and as the old saying goes, "If it smells like fish, it's not good fish." Nervously, I nibbled on a piece california roll.
It was like chewing on a flip-flop.
I let the disgusting morsel drop out of my mouth, which I immediately filled with Sobe green tea. The mixture of sour fish and overly sweetened green-tea-flavored beverage was awful. "This place SUCKS," I said, perhaps too loudly.
"Yeah, mine's not that great either," Thalan, added.
"Dude, you ordered RICE."
"So? The rice sucks too."
"Well, you can have what's left of this," I said.
I picked up the fetid contents of my triangle-shaped plate, and dumped them directly on top of Thalan's food. Aggravated, Thalan picked up one of the slabs of fish and flung it at me, striking me in the face. I was momentarily stunned from the meaty projectile that had just slapped me. The look on my face must have been priceless, because Brandon started laughing uncontrollably.
"What? What's so funny about being hit in the face with fish?"
This question just prompted another fit of laughter, this time with Gina and Thalan joining in the chorus. Determined to silence this racket, I reached over to Thalan's plate, and grabbed a handful of the glop.
"Don't you DARE!" Brandon exclaimed. He smacked the fistful of fish away from him, too hard, and the mess was flung across the table, hitting His girlfriend. Thalan and I sat there with our mouths open in horror. Gina had raw fish on her face.
"Gina!, I am soooo sorry!" Brandon started.
His girlfriend calmly wiped her face. "Thalan" she said, "get him."
That was all it took. Thalan grabbed Brandon from behind as Gina picked up another handful of the mess and dumped it on his head. He screamed, securing the attention of every patron near us who wasn't already watching the fishy food fight.
Within seconds, the manager hustled back into the room, red-faced and steaming. "You need to leave. NOW."
We stood there bashfully.
"RIGHT NOW. Please, collect your things and leave the premises, or I will have to call the police."
We complied, slowly filing out of the room. When we reached the door, Gina stopped, then turned and faced the manager. She exclaimed in a loud yet effeminate voice, "This place fucking sucks."
Thalan, Brandon, and I crawled the rest of the way, since we were doubled over with laughter. Just before we left, Brandon turned around and shouted, "And by the way! I'm telling everyone I know that the bukkake here is HORRIBLE!"
So ya, it was a fun time, but I think I might be wanted in Morristown.
Anyway, Iï¿½m coming up the 23rd, Iï¿½ll be there at least until Caraï¿½s party, maybe until new years, depends on scheduling. I needs me some money! Take care kids...Comments (2)
12/09/05 4:08 am est
...realized that many of you missed the ceremony. in case you were wondering, what follows is the full text.
Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all; and therefore ï¿½ is not by any ï¿½ to be entered into unadvisedly or soberly ï¿½ but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and drunkenly. Into this holy state these two drunkards present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together ï¿½ let them speak now or forever hold their booze.
Through marriage, Rhys and Stacy make a commitment together to face their disappointments ï¿½ embrace their dreams ï¿½ realize their hopes ï¿½ and accept each otherï¿½s Hangovers. Rhys and Stacy will promise one another to aspire to these ideals throughout their lives together ï¿½ through mutual understanding ï¿½ openness ï¿½ and sensitivity to each other.
We are here today to witness the joining of Rhys and Stacy. This occasion marks the celebration of drunken revelry with which this man and this woman begin their life together. And now I join you together in one of the holiest bonds.
Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?
By gathering together all the wishes of happiness and our fondest hopes for Rhys and Stacy from all present here, we assure them that our hearts are in tune with theirs. These moments are so meaningful to all of us, for ï¿½what greater thing is there for two human souls than to feel that they've gotten drunk together ï¿½ to strengthen each other in all laborï¿½ to minister to each other in all hangovers ï¿½ to share with each other in all gladness.
This relationship stands for friendship, loyalty, honesty and trust, but most of all for alcohol. Before they knew love, they were drunk, and it was from this shot of jack that comes their destiny. Do not think that you can direct the course of booze - for booze, if it finds you worthy, shall direct you.
Exchange of Vows:
(in which i try to be witty and stacy blows me out of the fucking water)
Stacy, the past four months for me have been a most excellent adventure, full of wild times heretofore unwitnessed by me except in the great cinematographic undertakings of busty babes 6, 8 and 32, the christmas special. throwing caution to the wind, we have become steadfast freinds, and created a bond that is all-too-rare in this world. you've come to be very important to me, a true companion, one with which i can share my innermost thoughts and feelings. For this and many other reasons, i've come to look at you not only as a friend, but as a lesbian. however, the defining moment came for me during that fateful trip to mexico. When we stayed up taking qualudes, and trying to chase chickens with our minds, i knew you were the one for me.
Rhys, i was yours when you said those three special words "totally bitchin time". Unity is what brought us here today. Togehter we are brought in this union of unity. you and i are unified in our similiarities and differences which make us an exceptional pair. we both love whiskey, women, and making things up that never happened. like that time we were sitting on a leather couch watching the TNT cartoon and slapping our knees, choking on cold pizza, i think, that we each realized that neither one of us was actually there. we also complement each other with our differences. you are male, i am female. you are tall, i am of average stature. you're from wisconsin, i like pretty colors. i've got to say, the best times we've shared together are the ones i don't remember too well, and it's times like that that i don't ever want to end. with or without you, it's miller time.
MINISTER TO GROOM:
Do you Rhys take Stacy to be your lawfully wedded wife ï¿½ to have and to hold, in sickness and in heatlh, through sturm and drang - and do you solemly swear to bring home hot dates and share the good ones, as long as you both shall live, or say, till next tuesday?
MINISTER TO BRIDE:
Do you Stacy take Rhys to be your lawfully wedded husband ï¿½ to have and to hold, in sickness and in heatlh, through sturm and drang - and do you solemly swear to bring home hot dates and share the good ones, as long as you both shall live, or say, till next tuesday?
Exchange of Wedding shots
What token of your love do you offer? Would you place the shots in my hand?
May these shots be blessed as the symbol of this affectionate unity. These two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. May they grow in understanding and in compassion. May the homes which they establish be such a place that many will find there a beer. May these shots in their hands symbolize the touch of the spirit of love in their hearts.
Handing ring to the Groom
MINISTER TO GROOM:
Rhys, in placing this shot in stacy's hand, repeat after me: stacy, With this shot, I thee wed.
Handing ring to the Bride
MINISTER TO BRIDE:
Stacy, in placing this ring on Rhys' finger, repeat after me: rhys,With this shot, I thee wed
May you always share with each other the gifts of boozeï¿½ be one in heart and in mind ï¿½ may you create a home that puts in your hearts ï¿½ love ï¿½ generosity and whiskey.
In as much as Rhys and Stacy have consented together in marriage before this company of friends and family and have pledged their faith ï¿½ and declared their unity by giving and receiving a shotï¿½ are now joined.
You have pronounced yourselves husband and wife but remember to always be each otherï¿½s best friend.
What ï¿½ therefore ï¿½ God has joined together ï¿½ let no m