Loud people in public drive me nuts. On the busride to work today, an asian guy sat next to me and was talking so fucking loud to the woman next to him, I had to turn up the volume on my ipod. That led to him tapping me on the shoulder insistently, and this gem of an exchange:
Him: 'Whyyy is yo music so loud?'
Me: 'Why is your voice so loud?'
Him: 'I not loud. Yo music loud. Velly annoying.'
Me: 'If you weren't fucking screaming at the person next to you, I wouldn't have to listen to it at such a high vol--'
Him: 'My language spoken like dat! Not loud! Cantonese spoken like dat!'
Me: 'Buddy, you're not the only cantonese-speaking guy on this bus. Are any of them fucking screaming at each other? Only you, bud--'
Him: (Screaming again): 'Not loud! Not loooooud!!'
Asian guy across from me: 'Shut. Up. You're a disgrace to our people'.
Me: 'Yea, you're a disgrace to your people.'
Him: 'Not loooud! 'Fuck you! Fuuuuck you!'
He got thrown off the bus for causing a disturbance. Seriously, is Cantonese supposed to be yelled at each other instead of spoken? What kinda shit is that?
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Next Trip
I guess that was a misleading title, cuz I'm not actually referring to my "next trip". I'm referring to...the trip after the trip after the next trip. Here's my schedule:
1. Friday-monday: Vegas. Helicopter trip to the Grand Canyon. I might die, which makes the rest of this stuff sorta outta the question.
2. Dec 23rd-26th: Jasper, via 20 hour train ride, with Len. The train sells booze. We might get thrown off before we get there. If this happens, it will be Christmas in a bar in Blue River. Or Valemount. Or something.
3. The real purpose of this blog. From May 10th-28th I'm will be in....
Wait for it...
New Zealand! And the Cook Islands!
I just booked the whole thing, and got a pretty good fucking deal on it, if I do say so myself. It's gonna rule. I'm ridiculously hyped, as you can probably tell.
Now, I just have to convince people to come with. If I can't, it's all good...I'm cool with goin myself. If I can, it'll save me money on hotels. So, if anyone wants to go to the land o' Kiwis and hobbits, let me know!
1. Friday-monday: Vegas. Helicopter trip to the Grand Canyon. I might die, which makes the rest of this stuff sorta outta the question.
2. Dec 23rd-26th: Jasper, via 20 hour train ride, with Len. The train sells booze. We might get thrown off before we get there. If this happens, it will be Christmas in a bar in Blue River. Or Valemount. Or something.
3. The real purpose of this blog. From May 10th-28th I'm will be in....
Wait for it...
New Zealand! And the Cook Islands!
I just booked the whole thing, and got a pretty good fucking deal on it, if I do say so myself. It's gonna rule. I'm ridiculously hyped, as you can probably tell.
Now, I just have to convince people to come with. If I can't, it's all good...I'm cool with goin myself. If I can, it'll save me money on hotels. So, if anyone wants to go to the land o' Kiwis and hobbits, let me know!
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Boston, part 1
Boston, how I love thee. You are a source of endless entertainment, cheap beer, and towns that are prononuced nothing like the way they're spelled. Billerica? Brickah. Concord? Conkid. Marlborough? Mallbro. I don't get it either. I used to think they had the coolest accents ever...but 6 days in New England changed that slightly. I'll get to that laydah.
After a nice flight and efficient transit trip from the airport to Watertown, I arrived at the complex where Jess supposedly worked. I was a little confused because the complex was really nice, and Jess is...well, a bitch. Why would a company that could afford all this hire a guy that can't even fly a kite without falling down multiple times? A guy who burned his lip eating a hot dog off the searing metal pole he just cooked it on? As I considered all this, I heard 'BITCH!' coming from behind me...apparently I was in the right place, somehow.
Jess dropped me off at his building, gave me a key and directions to the liquor store (across the street!), and went back to work for the rest of the day. After a trip to the store for a 6.99 case of Natty Light (best beer ever!), I sat around his place for a while and chilled. Jess had recently moved to Boston to take a job at the nice-complex place, and they were nice/rich enough to put him up in a sweet condo for his first few months there. And pay his rent. Average rent? 1735 a month. I hate him. The place was super nice...so nice that I felt kinda ridiculous walking through the lobby with my 7 dollar case of beer. Obviously it didn't stop me though. After Jess got home, we headed downtown with his buddy Jeremy and had a few beers in a pub attached to Fenway Park, then called it a night pretty early.
August 28th will live in infamy. The perfect storm of weird shit that went down is almost too ridiculous to believe, and it could only happen to Jess and I. We've been to a lot of places together, and no place ever defeated us quite like...Rhode Island.
It started innocently enough. Jess went to work, and I was going to go check Harvard out...but I only got as far as the pizza place a couple of blocks away. Jess got off work, and we headed south. Before we left, I asked him if I should bring the spare keys he had given me for the building/apartment. He said there was no need. No big deal, right? Yea, we'll see.
First stop was Gillette Stadium, home of the New England Patriots. The stadium is incredibly nice, maybe even cooler than Qwest Field in Seattle. But the highlight is the CBS Scene restaurant at the stadium...it was unbelievable. 4 floors, and a stairwell down the middle with a massive wraparound TV screen covering the whole 4 floors, all around it. It was awesome.
After that awesomeness, we headed further south to Providence, Rhode Island. Parked, went to Tim Hortons, which are everywhere in New England for some reason, and went for a walk. The downtown was seemingly deserted...we didn't see much of anybody. After walking for a bit, we could hear what sounded like a really loud TV, so we went to see what it was. We walked around the corner, and BAM...like 200 people are sitting/standing around watching an old movie being displayed on the side of a brick building. It was extremely odd...everyone was silent, looking at us like WE were the weird ones. Sorry, we don't watch movies in parking lots at home, hippies.
After exploring some more and not coming across many people, we headed down to where we knew some bars were. There were 2 next to each other...one had a lounge singer outside, belting out the hits (and misses), and getting yelled at by some drunk chick...so we went to the other one, a brewpub. Had a couple beers, chilled for a bit...then headed back to the car to go home.
This is where shit went sideways.
Walking back from the pub, we stop to watch some (legal) girls rollerskating, and Jess says 'Fuck, I can't find my keys.' I think he's kidding for a minute or 2...then, uh oh. He really doesn't have them. We go back to the pub, and ask the bartender. Nope, no keys. We look around, no keys. We retrace our steps all the way back to the Timmy Ho's, which is closed. Jess bangs on the window to talk to the one chick still in there...she tell him nope, no keys, without even looking.
Whore.
Maybe he left them in the car, right? He said he's done that before. It was the only other logical place to check. Obviously, we can't get INTO the car, so Jess called AAA and spent 60 bucks to join on the spot. AAA guy shows up, pops the lock, and...no keys in the car. Joyous. We retrace our steps again...movie weirdos, pub...nuthin. The Tim Horton's was being renovated, and there were construction workers inside...the AAA guy banged on the door till one of the guys came over, and Jess explained the situation. He checked the whole place...no keys.
Jess didn't want to leave his car there, because it was parked on a metered street and would have been towed in the morning. And we couldn't stay the night there, cuz Jess had to work the next day. So the only solution he could come up with was....to get it towed home. 100km, back to Boston.
Oh don't worry, it gets more odd.
While waiting on the tow truck, a car pulls up in front of us, and tries to parallel park in front of Jess....and backs right into his car. Jess just threw his hands up in the air and yelled 'SHE JUST HIT MY CAR!' So, she gets outta the car...and she's hot. Her friend is too. She apologizes profusely, and disappears. Luckily there was no damage.
Approximately 40 seconds after they walk away, the tow truck shows up...a flatbed tow truck. There is no way for the guy to load the car onto the flatbed, because the broad just parked in front of him. So he had to call ANOTHER tow truck to angle it out. Right as that tow truck shows up...the girls come back to their car, and up to Jess. 'I'm sooo sorry about hitting your car. I totally want to buy you and your friend a drink. We're gonna be at that cafe right there, and you two should totally come over there and have a drink with us.'
This never happens to Jess, or I. Like, EVER. Hot women don't offer to buy us drinks. It's unthinkable. Of course, that went down the tubes with 2 comments.
Jess, with a shocked/defeated/stupid look on his face: 'Bah. I'm married.'
Tow truck driver: 'They don't have time, I'm towing them to Boston!'
Thanks, assholes.
Anyways, I asked them if they could move their car so the tow truck driver could get the car out...they agree to move it, and say AGAIN that we should come to the bar. I just about said Fuck This Shit! and went with them...but let's face it, I'd screw it up for sure and be left all alone in this fucking ghost town. So, I went with Jess. Second tow truck towed the car to a parking lot where first tow truck (flatbed) loaded it on. We jumped in and headed back to Boston with Joey the Rhode Island tow truck driver. Along the way, we were given a hilarious Rhode Island history lesson...Providence used to really suck, till the downtown was spruced up a few years ago. People from Massachussetts apparently suck, because they're all 'big drinkahs'. And he used to be the tow truck king of RI, until AAA came in and took all his business. His AAA hate was quite epic, and funny considering he got the job to drive us back to Boston from....AAA.
After getting lost on the way back (Joey had been there 'a million times', but didn't know how to read street signs), and stopping so Jess could get cash, we finally get back to the building and drop the car off in the parking lot. Jess pays Joey the 150 bucks for the glorified cabride home, and the misadventure is over. Right?
Not a chance.
Jess has no keys to get into the building, or his apartment. And I didn't bring the spare set, cuz Jess said there was no need. Oh, the irony. There's an 'in case of emergency' phone number on the wall, so Jess calls. They route the call to the maintenance lady, who says she'll be right there. In 40 minutes. She lived on the other side of town in Lynn, and had to come all the way over to Watertown to let our stupid asses into the building and apartment at 1am. Then drive 40 minutes home. And she had to be back at work at 6am. Needless to say, she was not a happy man-looking woman when she arrived, but she let us in.
So Jess has spent 210 bucks so far, and he now has a car in the guest parking lot of his building, and no keys to drive it to work in the morning. I have...well, blue balls cuz those broads were hot. And Joey the tow truck driver had 150 bucks and probably got lost on the way back home.
Story over? Nyet.
Wake up in the morning, Jess cabs it to work, and starts calling Honda about making him a new key. It's a fancy key with a chip in it, so it's not cheap. 125 bucks for the key, and 500 for a new immobilizer, to be precise. And it was going to take a WEEK! Since he didn't seem to have a choice, he was gonna go forward with that.
Until his phone rang.
It was his apartment building calling. They received a call from the Union Street Brewery, in Providence, RI. Apparently they found a set of keys, and called the # on the building keycard.
Motherfuckers! We went back to that fucking pub TWICE and asked about them, and they said they didn't fucking have them. Since Jess was at work and he had no car to get back there (obviously!), he sent his trusty hungover friend down there on the commuter rail. Fuck.
Bus to rail station: 30 minutes. Train to Providence: 75 minutes. Time in Providence to retrieve keys: 12 minutes. Train back to Boston: 75 minutes. Bus back to apartment: 30 minutes. Total time? 222 minutes of my life I will never get back.
To make it worse, my ipod died 20 minutes after I left, and there was a Red Sox game that night so coming back was fucking hell. The train was sardine-style, and I had to stand the whole way.
So, it's official. Jess and I HATE Rhode Island. Hate is too mellow of a word. I hope the state dies in a fire. I hope they take it's statedom away and demote it to a county. It's not even a fucking island. What kind of retard lives in a place called an island that's not even an island? Oh yea, the kind of retard that can't see keys sitting right in front of them until the next fucking day. The kind of retard that watches a movie in a fucking parking lot.
In case you missed what I'm trying to say here...Fuck Rhode Island.
I will continue the Boston misadventures in my next blog. They will include...calling the cops, Jess getting high roller drunk, casinos in the middle of nowhere, Fenway hilarity, and much much more. Stay tuned.
After a nice flight and efficient transit trip from the airport to Watertown, I arrived at the complex where Jess supposedly worked. I was a little confused because the complex was really nice, and Jess is...well, a bitch. Why would a company that could afford all this hire a guy that can't even fly a kite without falling down multiple times? A guy who burned his lip eating a hot dog off the searing metal pole he just cooked it on? As I considered all this, I heard 'BITCH!' coming from behind me...apparently I was in the right place, somehow.
Jess dropped me off at his building, gave me a key and directions to the liquor store (across the street!), and went back to work for the rest of the day. After a trip to the store for a 6.99 case of Natty Light (best beer ever!), I sat around his place for a while and chilled. Jess had recently moved to Boston to take a job at the nice-complex place, and they were nice/rich enough to put him up in a sweet condo for his first few months there. And pay his rent. Average rent? 1735 a month. I hate him. The place was super nice...so nice that I felt kinda ridiculous walking through the lobby with my 7 dollar case of beer. Obviously it didn't stop me though. After Jess got home, we headed downtown with his buddy Jeremy and had a few beers in a pub attached to Fenway Park, then called it a night pretty early.
August 28th will live in infamy. The perfect storm of weird shit that went down is almost too ridiculous to believe, and it could only happen to Jess and I. We've been to a lot of places together, and no place ever defeated us quite like...Rhode Island.
It started innocently enough. Jess went to work, and I was going to go check Harvard out...but I only got as far as the pizza place a couple of blocks away. Jess got off work, and we headed south. Before we left, I asked him if I should bring the spare keys he had given me for the building/apartment. He said there was no need. No big deal, right? Yea, we'll see.
First stop was Gillette Stadium, home of the New England Patriots. The stadium is incredibly nice, maybe even cooler than Qwest Field in Seattle. But the highlight is the CBS Scene restaurant at the stadium...it was unbelievable. 4 floors, and a stairwell down the middle with a massive wraparound TV screen covering the whole 4 floors, all around it. It was awesome.
After that awesomeness, we headed further south to Providence, Rhode Island. Parked, went to Tim Hortons, which are everywhere in New England for some reason, and went for a walk. The downtown was seemingly deserted...we didn't see much of anybody. After walking for a bit, we could hear what sounded like a really loud TV, so we went to see what it was. We walked around the corner, and BAM...like 200 people are sitting/standing around watching an old movie being displayed on the side of a brick building. It was extremely odd...everyone was silent, looking at us like WE were the weird ones. Sorry, we don't watch movies in parking lots at home, hippies.
After exploring some more and not coming across many people, we headed down to where we knew some bars were. There were 2 next to each other...one had a lounge singer outside, belting out the hits (and misses), and getting yelled at by some drunk chick...so we went to the other one, a brewpub. Had a couple beers, chilled for a bit...then headed back to the car to go home.
This is where shit went sideways.
Walking back from the pub, we stop to watch some (legal) girls rollerskating, and Jess says 'Fuck, I can't find my keys.' I think he's kidding for a minute or 2...then, uh oh. He really doesn't have them. We go back to the pub, and ask the bartender. Nope, no keys. We look around, no keys. We retrace our steps all the way back to the Timmy Ho's, which is closed. Jess bangs on the window to talk to the one chick still in there...she tell him nope, no keys, without even looking.
Whore.
Maybe he left them in the car, right? He said he's done that before. It was the only other logical place to check. Obviously, we can't get INTO the car, so Jess called AAA and spent 60 bucks to join on the spot. AAA guy shows up, pops the lock, and...no keys in the car. Joyous. We retrace our steps again...movie weirdos, pub...nuthin. The Tim Horton's was being renovated, and there were construction workers inside...the AAA guy banged on the door till one of the guys came over, and Jess explained the situation. He checked the whole place...no keys.
Jess didn't want to leave his car there, because it was parked on a metered street and would have been towed in the morning. And we couldn't stay the night there, cuz Jess had to work the next day. So the only solution he could come up with was....to get it towed home. 100km, back to Boston.
Oh don't worry, it gets more odd.
While waiting on the tow truck, a car pulls up in front of us, and tries to parallel park in front of Jess....and backs right into his car. Jess just threw his hands up in the air and yelled 'SHE JUST HIT MY CAR!' So, she gets outta the car...and she's hot. Her friend is too. She apologizes profusely, and disappears. Luckily there was no damage.
Approximately 40 seconds after they walk away, the tow truck shows up...a flatbed tow truck. There is no way for the guy to load the car onto the flatbed, because the broad just parked in front of him. So he had to call ANOTHER tow truck to angle it out. Right as that tow truck shows up...the girls come back to their car, and up to Jess. 'I'm sooo sorry about hitting your car. I totally want to buy you and your friend a drink. We're gonna be at that cafe right there, and you two should totally come over there and have a drink with us.'
This never happens to Jess, or I. Like, EVER. Hot women don't offer to buy us drinks. It's unthinkable. Of course, that went down the tubes with 2 comments.
Jess, with a shocked/defeated/stupid look on his face: 'Bah. I'm married.'
Tow truck driver: 'They don't have time, I'm towing them to Boston!'
Thanks, assholes.
Anyways, I asked them if they could move their car so the tow truck driver could get the car out...they agree to move it, and say AGAIN that we should come to the bar. I just about said Fuck This Shit! and went with them...but let's face it, I'd screw it up for sure and be left all alone in this fucking ghost town. So, I went with Jess. Second tow truck towed the car to a parking lot where first tow truck (flatbed) loaded it on. We jumped in and headed back to Boston with Joey the Rhode Island tow truck driver. Along the way, we were given a hilarious Rhode Island history lesson...Providence used to really suck, till the downtown was spruced up a few years ago. People from Massachussetts apparently suck, because they're all 'big drinkahs'. And he used to be the tow truck king of RI, until AAA came in and took all his business. His AAA hate was quite epic, and funny considering he got the job to drive us back to Boston from....AAA.
After getting lost on the way back (Joey had been there 'a million times', but didn't know how to read street signs), and stopping so Jess could get cash, we finally get back to the building and drop the car off in the parking lot. Jess pays Joey the 150 bucks for the glorified cabride home, and the misadventure is over. Right?
Not a chance.
Jess has no keys to get into the building, or his apartment. And I didn't bring the spare set, cuz Jess said there was no need. Oh, the irony. There's an 'in case of emergency' phone number on the wall, so Jess calls. They route the call to the maintenance lady, who says she'll be right there. In 40 minutes. She lived on the other side of town in Lynn, and had to come all the way over to Watertown to let our stupid asses into the building and apartment at 1am. Then drive 40 minutes home. And she had to be back at work at 6am. Needless to say, she was not a happy man-looking woman when she arrived, but she let us in.
So Jess has spent 210 bucks so far, and he now has a car in the guest parking lot of his building, and no keys to drive it to work in the morning. I have...well, blue balls cuz those broads were hot. And Joey the tow truck driver had 150 bucks and probably got lost on the way back home.
Story over? Nyet.
Wake up in the morning, Jess cabs it to work, and starts calling Honda about making him a new key. It's a fancy key with a chip in it, so it's not cheap. 125 bucks for the key, and 500 for a new immobilizer, to be precise. And it was going to take a WEEK! Since he didn't seem to have a choice, he was gonna go forward with that.
Until his phone rang.
It was his apartment building calling. They received a call from the Union Street Brewery, in Providence, RI. Apparently they found a set of keys, and called the # on the building keycard.
Motherfuckers! We went back to that fucking pub TWICE and asked about them, and they said they didn't fucking have them. Since Jess was at work and he had no car to get back there (obviously!), he sent his trusty hungover friend down there on the commuter rail. Fuck.
Bus to rail station: 30 minutes. Train to Providence: 75 minutes. Time in Providence to retrieve keys: 12 minutes. Train back to Boston: 75 minutes. Bus back to apartment: 30 minutes. Total time? 222 minutes of my life I will never get back.
To make it worse, my ipod died 20 minutes after I left, and there was a Red Sox game that night so coming back was fucking hell. The train was sardine-style, and I had to stand the whole way.
So, it's official. Jess and I HATE Rhode Island. Hate is too mellow of a word. I hope the state dies in a fire. I hope they take it's statedom away and demote it to a county. It's not even a fucking island. What kind of retard lives in a place called an island that's not even an island? Oh yea, the kind of retard that can't see keys sitting right in front of them until the next fucking day. The kind of retard that watches a movie in a fucking parking lot.
In case you missed what I'm trying to say here...Fuck Rhode Island.
I will continue the Boston misadventures in my next blog. They will include...calling the cops, Jess getting high roller drunk, casinos in the middle of nowhere, Fenway hilarity, and much much more. Stay tuned.
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