Tuesday, Dec 23rd
1:25pm - Starting drinking beer at work. Bullshit about sports and stuff.
2:15pm - A prank Len and I pull on Carla goes sideways. Carla's not happy. It's still funny.
3:50pm - Meet Len at the old Scruffys. Order a beer. Call Carla. She's still not happy, and isn't meeting up with us now. We are highly amused.
6:25pm - Depart Scruffs after 5th beer there, go next door and buy train liquor.
7:10pm - Arrive at The Ivanhoe. Start consuming more beers with homeless-like people.
7:50pm - Leave Ivanhoe after 3 beers. I'm a case deep, Len's not far behind. And we haven't even left yet. Gnarly.
8:05pm - Wait in line for train. Len goes to Mickey D's. I order 3 filet-o-fishes, for some reason.
8:15pm - Train is boarding. I have consumed all 3 filets. I am unsure if this is safe. I can barely move. Len is laughing at me.
8:30pm - The train is supposed to depart. It doesn't. We go immediately to the drinking/snack area, where I am the first in line for beers. This is good.
8:32pm - The lineup is now out the door. I hand Len a beer, and he immediately gets in line while we make fun of each other and things in general. People are amused. I am basking in the glow of attention.
8:55pm - We have 4 empty cups at our table, and Len is in line again. The train still hasn't left. We are still entertaining. People love us.
9:30pm - We have 8 empty cups in front of us. The train still hasn't left. The drink salesman says he's closing at 10. We nearly riot. Drink guy isn't amused.
10:20pm - There are 6 people left in the drinking cart. The train finally leaves. We are out of liquor.
10:21pm - I remember that I brought booze with me. All is well in the world.
Wednesday, Dec 24th. Christmas Eve.
12:50am - The 6 of us have gone through all my vodka energy drinks, and a 1 liter bottle of Len's Vex. I tease Len about said "girly" Vex. I will eat my words later.
1:05am - Len goes back to his seat to pass out. Kid from Edmonton has brought out huge ipod speaker and we listen to loud music. Train attendant with curly hair (who I lovingly dub "Fuzzy Head") isn't amused. She tells us to keep it down. We laugh.
1:10am - Tim remembers he bought bottle of Carolans, and goes to get it. Tim is a hero to remaining crew.
1:20am - Carolans is gone. Tim convinces Australian girl to break into the drink/snack shop because she's tiny and can probably squeeze through. Midway into said squeeze, she is busted by Fuzzy Head. Fuzzy Head is angry, and wants us all to leave the drinking cart immediately. We refuse, and laugh at her. She storms off. We laugh heartily.
3:15am - Everyone finally disperses. Aussie girl is sitting in front of us, and is still talkative. I happily oblige, cuz she's cute. And I'm drunk.
3:16am - I remember Len still has a liter bottle of Vex left. I shake him awake and ask for it. He says no. I am shocked. Len reminds me about bugging him earlier. I apologize. This gets me nowhere. Len holds out for 2 or 3 more minutes, then finally coughs up the bottle. I am elated.
3:25am - The bottle is gone. Aussie girl is pretty drunk. I am too. We are unable to stay awake. This sucks.
4:15am - I'm woken up by lady across from me. The following conversation ensues:
Lady: "Can you tell your friend to turn his music down?"
Me: *shaking Len awake again* "Hey, hey...this lady here wants you to turn your music down."
Len: "Really? Well, tell her to quit fucking bitching!"
Lady: "EXCUSE ME?"
Tim, not sober enough to come up with anything wittier: "Uhh...he didn't mean that."
Lady: *Stare of Death*
Every 20 minutes until 8am: I wake up in pain due to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. Len's music is super loud the whole time. I find this hilarious.
8:00am: Len goes for breakfast. He is forced to share a table with a couple who are done eating, yet sit there the whole time and stare at Len while he's eating. He's kinda freaked out. He refers to them as his "Breakfast Buddies".
8am-11am - I impatiently wait for the snack/drink store to re-open so I can continue drinking, while being surprisingly unhungover. Len watches his Lost DVDs in the drinking car, the only place on the entire train where you can plug stuff in. A guy sitting across from Len offers me some Crown when I go to talk to Len. I decline, more out of fear than anything. The scenery going by is amazing...frozen rivers, crazy mountain peaks...awesome stuff.
11am - I practically run to the drink store, to find this sign: "Out eating lunch, back at 11:30". My swearing is heard across the train, and the valley.
11:31am - Labatts Blue has made me whole again.
11:31am-2:45pm - Many beers are consumed. Creepy guy with the Crown is trying to convince kids to watch "The Aristocats" on his laptop, while hugging up on some girl he's fed a ton of Crown to. Len is more drunk than he should be. He finally admits his ginger ale is half full of rum, that he acquired from Crown guy.
2:55pm - A French Canadian guy announces over the speakers that "Ve are passing Mount Robson, ze highest mountain in ze Canadian Rockets". Yes, he actually said Canadian Rockets.
3:45pm - We are allowed one more beer each from the drink store before we're cut off. We have a litany of empty cups in front of us. Creepy guy tells us he put two sleeping pills in drunk girls drink, so she "doesn't go anywhere" when he's searching Jasper for coke. And I don't mean coca-cola.
4:15pm - Drunk girl is passed the fuck out in the corner. It's very odd.
5:15pm - Arrival in Jasper. We walk the few blocks to our hotel. It's not that cold out, probably -15 or so. We might just be warm cuz of all the booze, who knows. Snow-covered mountains all around us. Definitely a cool location.
5:45pm - To the pub for food/beer. They sell Pilsner by the bottle. This is a very good start. Len orders a burger with elk, bison, and deer in it. Seriously. I order the biggest chicken burger of all time. We consume so much food we can't even finish our beers. That's a lot of food.
6:45pm - Back at the hotel. Hangovers kicking in. I pass out, Len watches Lost DVD's and passes out.
11pm - I wake up. Len's still passed out. We've pretty much missed everything. Bars aren't open much longer. We can't go get booze from a liquor store. Restaurants are closed. It's about -183 outside. I wake Len up, who just snorts and demands iced tea. I spend all my change in the pop machine on iced tea and water. I settle in and watch Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan on the Space Channel. Leave me alone, dammit.
Friday, December 25th. Christmas Day.
12:30am - Star Trek III - The Search for Spock. Apparently it's a movie marathon. I'm hungover.
3am - Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home. I'm oddly attracted to Vulcan women by this point, cuz they're the only women I've seen in the last 8 hours. I have no food, no beer, and no hope for any. All I have is Kirk and Spock. Is this really my life? Merry Christmas, dipshit.
10am - Wake up to a hindu banging on the door yelling "Service! Service!" One "Fuck off with your service!" and he's gone. Len is gone too. Odd. Not odd enough to stay awake, however.
10:35am - The door opens. I yell "HELLO!" cuz I think the cleaning hindu has let himself in. It's Len. He looks at me like I'm retarded. He's probably right. He went for the hotel breakfast, and now hates Aussies. Every employee at the hotel is Aussie (except for the cleaning hindu). And guess who was there for breakfast with him? His Breakfast Buddies from the train! Seriously.
10:36am - I'm back asleep approximately 9 seconds after he finishes telling me all this.
12:45pm - Exploring time! We decide to walk through the town and see what's open.
12:46pm - We stroll by Len's breakfast buddies. It's getting a little weird.
12:50pm - A restaurant close to our hotel is open! They have a beer sign outside! We decide to stroll on and see what else is open.
1:25pm - We stroll by Len's breakfast buddies.
1:50pm - The Mac's is open. A Cantonese alcohol-less restaurant is open. A Korean alcohol-less restaurant is open. That's fucking it. No pubs, no other restaurants, no strip clubs, not even the Pizza Hut. This town is deader than Heath Ledger.
2:01pm - There's still the first restaurant, at least. We arrive, hungry and beer-thirsty. As we stroll in, we're told (by a fucking Aussie, of course) "Sorry mates, we close at 2. We were only open for lunch.". Choke on a dingo and die, pesudo-foreigner.
2:10pm - Another convenience store is open closer to our hotel. I get a Salami sandwich and some Ruffles. Len got some other sorta sandwich, chips, and beef jerky. Yes people, this was our Christmas dinner.
2:20pm - Back at the hotel, we ask what time the bar opens there. "5pm", we're told. Tears roll down my face. Len steers me out of the lobby so no one sees me openly weeping.
2:22pm - Back in my bed in my hotel room, eating my tasty dinner. Guess what's on? Star Trek: Insurrection!
3pm - Finally, FINALLY something else is on TV. The comedy channel is showing a Comedy Roast marathon. Len's never seen the Flavor Flav roast.
3pm-4:45pm - We laugh hysterically at blatant racism. My favourite line (courtesy Jeffrey Ross) "Ice-T is so old, the first thing he bought with his record deal money was his freedom!"
4:45pm - I call the Jasper Park Lodge, the fancy 1000 dollar a night lodge up on the ski mountain, to see if they have bars open. Yes, yes they do. At least we have a fallback plan.
5:01pm - Hotel bar. Sweet, sweet bottle of pilly. Len orders Jager bombs. Dingo fucker says they're outta energy drinks. Jager shots it is.
5:05pm - Another pilsner.
5:45pm - Len says "Hey...there's some fuckin animals eating some shit over there". I look out the window. 3 elk are across the street eating grass poking through the snow. This is all sorts of cool. Only one thing could be cooler.
5:46pm - Another pilsner.
6:30pm - We're sick of being the only people in the hotel bar. Time to go outside. I walk right up to the elk, probably 10 feet away. They act like your average female and completely ignore me. Whores.
6:32pm - We decide to go explore again, to see if anything has opened up in the last 4 hours.
7:15pm - Nothing has.
7:25pm - Stop at Mac's so Len can buy smokes. Call cab to go to Jasper Park Lodge and their booze.
7:30pm - It's a 15 minute drive, but only 15 bucks to get there. Good deal. As we approach our hotel, Len says, with his typical tact "Oh hey, watch out up here...there's some fuckin caribous or some shit on the road". That was awesome. As we continue, the driver explains that Jasper has been super busy at Christmas every other year, and usually everything is open. This is the first year he can remember it being so Ledger. Just our luck.
7:45pm - I give him 20, cuz I'm nice to white people. I mean, taxi drivers.
7:46pm - Jesus fuck. We walk into, basically, our version of CHRISTMAS HELL. The first thing we hear is kids singing Christmas carols. We see a choir, led by a guy playing the piano. A fucking choir! Are you kidding me? We walk around a bit, and stumble across people that wipe their asses with money (not the coins, that would be weird). This huge, cavernous room is full of couches and tables full of people happily enjoying their Christmas. Len gave me one of his all-time best "What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into??" looks. He looks so annoyed that I think he's actually scared he might hurt someone. I don't blame him, cuz I am too. Not even booze can make this go away, unless I break the bottle and jam the shards of glass in my eyes and ears. Curse you, Jasper!
7:49pm - We stumble around until we find the bar. A nice waitress asks for our orders. "Caesar", I reply. "Mountain sized?", she asks. "That's sounds delightful!" I DID NOT say. I just grunted and nodded, while trying to cover my ears.
8:01pm - Huge caesars arrive, with a big prawn on top. Sweet. Can't taste the booze, but that's hardly surprising.
8:35pm - We're looking around like welfare cases at The Boathouse. It's obvious we don't fit in, we're not welcome, and we probably can't afford the drinks here anyway. We just talk amongst ourselves and try not to actually look at anyone. It's not hard, actually...there wasn't one decent woman in this entire cavern.
9:15pm - Even louder, non-Christmas music begins. An actual parade of Lodge employees strolls though single-file, all holding different types of foods on trays. Turkey guy? Check. Chocolate volcano guy? Check. Attractive women? Nyet. Len and I look at each other, even more horrified than before.
9:30pm - We can't help but laugh at the predicament we're in. We traveled on a train for a whole day to avoid Christmas, and we've ended up stumbling into a fucking scene right out of a Christmas movie. And we didn't even leave. We were THAT desperate for booze. Going through the long list of degenerate shit I've done in the name of alcohol...putting up with that for 2 hours might actually top the list.
9:45pm - We ask for the check.
9:50pm - It arrives. 2 ceasars, 4 beers...58 dollars. Nigga what? The ceasars were 14 dollars. EACH. FOURTEEN DOLLARS. You know what? Fuck Christmas.
10:20pm - Back at the hotel bar. More sweet Pillys, more Jager, some food. Guess who's in the bar. Len's breakfast buddies. He's getting seriously creeped out.
11pm - Bar closes. I'm not done drinking. I'm allowed to take beers to my room. Sweet. I have to pay 4.50 a beer. Not so sweet. I pony up for 6, hand the dingo fucker the 27 bucks (!), and waddle back to the room.
11:05pm - Bob Saget roast. "Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen walk into a bar. They say to the bartender "We'll have two Ass Hurts" and the bartender says "Well how do you make an Ass Hurt?" They reply "First, Bob Saget hands you a chocolate milk that he has just made. Then, you wake up three hours later lying on your stomach with your pajama pants pulled down around your ankles."
Saturday, December 26th. Boxing Day.
1am - Beer's gone. Sleepy time.
3:35am - Woke up from a nightmare. Stupid Dexter books.
10am - Awake yet again, start to get our shit together.
11:15am - Back at the restaurant that closed at 2 the day before. Ask for a beer. Dingo fucker doesn't know what kind of beer they sell. What the fuck?
11:45am - Get the fuck outta there and go find a real bar.
Noon - Find a real bar. The Whistle Stop Pub. Awesome layout.
1pm - Blissfully enjoying our last Pillys in Jasper.
1:30pm - Get to train station. Can't find train ticket to go home. Uh oh. Len laughs at me, and points out that he can't believe I lost it because I'm usually the responsible one. Apparently not this time!
1:35pm - I'm informed I have to buy a new ticket. 91 bucks. Guess I was pretty drunk when I got off the train originally, and forgot it. Oops. Len laughs at me again.
2pm - Score a group of 4 seats that face each other, so we can put our feet up when we sleep. Len's idea, and a great one at that.
2:25pm - Guy who made me buy new ticket runs up to me and tells me that he's really sorry, and my original ticket was in their safe the whole time. There's no time to get a refund there since the train leaves in 5 minutes, but I should be able to do it in Vancouver. Uh, okay.
2:30pm-5:30pm - I enjoy the insane scenery until it gets dark. Never seen anything like it. Extremely cool.
6pm - Find out that every bathroom on all the comfort-class cars are out of order. To use the bathroom, we have to walk back though all the cars, through the dining car, and use the bathroom in the first sleeper. All of us have to. This leads to lineups.
6:15pm - I barely hold on until it's my turn. I absolutely destroy said bathroom.
6:45pm - I get in line again.
6:55pm - I attempt to absolutely destroy bathroom again. As I get comfy, the train stops. The power stops. The fan stops. There is no noise. If I carry on my path of destruction, everyone waiting outside will hear this happen. I can't exactly hold it, so I very carefully destroy the bathroom. 3 emergency flushes, so not to offend all the turd burglars outside. Stupid train.
6:55pm-10pm - Variations of the above occur 3 more times. Len laughs at me every time. Great friend he is.
10pm - We arrive in Kamloops. I joke to Len that the train takes 9 hours from here, but a bus is only 4. If we got off now and jumped on a bus, we'd be home by 2am and could sleep in our own beds. If only I knew...
Saturday, December 27th. Fuck Whalley Day.
12:30am - We're still in Kamloops. Colour us unamused.
6:45am - Train stops just outside of Abbotsford.
9:45am - Train is still just outside of Abbotsford. Freight trains are stuck in front of us. As such, we are stuck as well. We are supposed to be arriving in Vancouver right now. We are highly annoyed, since our sleep was less than pleasant.
10:40am - We actually move!
12:10pm - Arrival is Surrey railyard. Train stops dead.
12:25pm - We are informed that the train "cannot navigate the yard", so they are sending buses to deliver us to the Via Rail station downtown. I'm 9km from home at this moment. The Via Rail station is 25km past my house.
1:15pm - The buses finally arrive, and...they load all the baggage onto the buses first.
1:30pm - They finally let us off. Len and I refuse to get on the bus. We're right beside the Patullo Bridge, in Lower Whalley. We decide to call a cab.
2pm - No cab arrives. Len's phone dies.
2:15pm - We decide we have no choice but to walk out to the skytrain.
3pm - We have walked 3.9km to the gas station on King George. We're soaked from all the wet snow. I want to use the phone to call someone, ANYONE, to come get us. I'm informed they don't have a phone at this station, and they won't call me a cab. Assholes. We're told to go to the skytrain station.
3:05pm - The entrance to the gas station is a LAKE. I'm actually informed later that the station was closed for a few hours because cars couldn't make it through this lake. Len and I have to navigate this thing to get to the skytrain. We try walking in the snow around it...and it turns out that was a part of the lake too. At the same time, we step into water than comes up close to my knees.
3:06pm - We're officially fucked. We're cold, soaked, and exhausted. We still have another kilometer or so to the station.
3:20pm - Arrive at the skytrain. No taxis are there. Len decides he isn't coming out for Lisa's birthday cuz he's soaked, and is gonna go home. He hands me the 50 cents change from buying his ticket, but I tell him to keep it "in case he needs to make a phone call".
3:22pm - Standing on the platform, I say to Len "After all this, watch now...the train will be not working".
3:23pm - "This is skytrain control...the train is not working."
3:30pm - A train arrives. I get on. Len is waiting on the platform to go the other way.
3:40pm - My train finally leaves. Len is still standing there.
3:50pm - There are no taxis at New West station. Nor are there any payphones.
3:55pm - Arrive at 22nd St. Skytrain station. Go to use phone. Realize I have no quarters. In fact, I have two toonies. The payphone doesn't take toonies. I have to buy a skytrain ticket for 1.75, to get a quarter. I call my dad. The call fails, and the phone eats my quarter.
3:57pm - I finally stop yelling "JESUS FUCK WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH THE FUCKING WORLD!" over and over.
3:58pm - I buy another skytrain ticket to get another quarter, to call my dad...who tells me he's snowed in and can't drive. I consider crying. Luckily, I'm too tired/wet/awesome to cry.
3:59pm - I look to my left. My saviour is there. The 101 bus home. No one sits around me. Wonder why.
4:20pm - I arrive home. I collapse in the doorway. My journey is complete.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
I hate Trevor Linden
I don't really hate Trevor Linden, but I'd probably be a whole lot more alert and a whole lot less hungover if the Canucks could have used their brains and retired his number on a WEEKEND. Instead, they pick a wednesday, and now my thursday is completely useless. Thanks Canucks...you bastards.
So, how hungover is Tim? I was walking from metrotown skytrain station to the bus loop, and I happened to look down and glance at my feet. Yes, I can actually still see my feet, assholes. Anyway, I look down, and what do I see?
A brown shoe. And a black shoe.
I shit you not, I was so fucking out of it I put on two different-coloured shoes to wear to work today. Nicely done, retard. And, of course, this would be the ONE day that a hot girl decides to sit across from me. And notice my attire. And stifle a laugh. I guess it was a good thing though, because she couldn't resist and had to ask what the deal was...if I knew hot women would talk to me about unmatching shoes, I woulda pulled that shit years ago! Anyway, I had to tell her I lost a bet. Go Tim. How original.
So, I'm sitting here at work drinking tomato juice and laughing at my own retardedness, and a (very dim) lightbulb turns on in my head. The hamster starts running on his wheel. Pick any shitty analogy you like. Anyway, I know my co-workers and boss will tease me about this when they notice, so I think "Hey! If I just take my shoes off and walk around in socks all day (like everyone else does here), I can hide my unmatching shoes and no one will notice!" Good idea, right?
No. I take off my shoes, and...guess. Fucking guess.
Yup, you guessed it. Two different-coloured socks. One grey, one black.
I'm not looking forward to the trip home.
So, how hungover is Tim? I was walking from metrotown skytrain station to the bus loop, and I happened to look down and glance at my feet. Yes, I can actually still see my feet, assholes. Anyway, I look down, and what do I see?
A brown shoe. And a black shoe.
I shit you not, I was so fucking out of it I put on two different-coloured shoes to wear to work today. Nicely done, retard. And, of course, this would be the ONE day that a hot girl decides to sit across from me. And notice my attire. And stifle a laugh. I guess it was a good thing though, because she couldn't resist and had to ask what the deal was...if I knew hot women would talk to me about unmatching shoes, I woulda pulled that shit years ago! Anyway, I had to tell her I lost a bet. Go Tim. How original.
So, I'm sitting here at work drinking tomato juice and laughing at my own retardedness, and a (very dim) lightbulb turns on in my head. The hamster starts running on his wheel. Pick any shitty analogy you like. Anyway, I know my co-workers and boss will tease me about this when they notice, so I think "Hey! If I just take my shoes off and walk around in socks all day (like everyone else does here), I can hide my unmatching shoes and no one will notice!" Good idea, right?
No. I take off my shoes, and...guess. Fucking guess.
Yup, you guessed it. Two different-coloured socks. One grey, one black.
I'm not looking forward to the trip home.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Bus follies, Part 22
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?
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 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.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
4OTF
I was given the opportunity to write a guest post on an MMA site, www.fourouncestofreedom.com. It's an MMA blog about an aspiring cage fighter, which has recently decided to change their format a bit and cover more mainstream MMA news. It's a part of the Rudius network, which alsos hosts pages like www.tuckermax.com and philalawyer.net. It's a pretty hardcore MMA article, so if you don't follow the sport closely you'll likely have no idea what I'm talking about...but I wouldn't be a good writer if I didn't pimp my work, right?
Anyways, check it out, let me know what you think if you're so inclined.
EDIT - I'm now the full time writer for the site.
http://www.fourouncestofreedom.com/
Anyways, check it out, let me know what you think if you're so inclined.
EDIT - I'm now the full time writer for the site.
http://www.fourouncestofreedom.com/
Thursday, October 16, 2008
DC, part 2
Here we go again.
So I woke up after a blissful yeungling-induced sleep in the comfiest bed ever. It's 9:30am, DC time. I'm super excited to go check out this city...for about 3 seconds, till I realized it's only 6:30 where I'm from.
4 hours later, it was time to see DC!
I took the metro into town, and got off at the stop that looked to be in the middle of the stuff I wanted to check out. Exit metro, go up the stairs...and I guess I was right. I am literally in the middle of eeeverything. To the left is the Washington Monument. To the right is the Capitol. In front of me is the Natural History Museum. Behind me...well, there are some asian tourists that are yelling 'Tayka pickcha! Tayka pickcha!' at each other...they're everywhere, folks.
My guidebook said it was a 2.2 mile 'beautiful grassy expanse' between the monument and the Capitol. The 2.2 miles part was correct. But beautiful grassy expanse? Try massive dustbowl with some semi-dead grassy patches. I haven't seen a lawn that unkempt since I saw these naked Icelandic bitches at www. hairyicela...what, too much info?
Where was I? Oh yea, DC. My first goal was to go to the Natural History Museum in front of me to see some dinosaurs! I figured it would be kind of anticlimactic, since I get to reside with a living, breathing dinosaur...but it was still cool (Just kidding dad!). It's a pretty sweet museum, actually. Some massive dinosaur skeletons, the Hope Diamond, a few other things. I spent an hour or so meandering about, then headed over to the Air and Space Museum. It was gigantic...it holds the capsule from an Apollo space mission, at least 15 full-sized planes from various eras, blah blah. I'm a weirdo though, cuz my favourite part of the whole museum was...the McDonalds.
It was, without a doubt, the biggest Mickey D's I have ever seen in my life. Over 1000 seats. One thousand. No joke. Serves 15,000 people a day. It has like 20 'lanes' where they rifle you through quicker than a fucking gas chamber lineup. Employees SCREAMED at you to keep moving. It was crazily militant, yet absurdly efficient. I can't imagine what they would do if you tried to get picky with your order....'You want extra pickles? Here's your fucking extra pickles!' as the Hamburglar violates you in the pooper and humiliates you in front of everyone. So yea...it was intense. Nice place though. And I have an overactive imagination, apparently.
After that, I walked up to the Capitol (which was pretty awesome), then into another museum, then took the metro back to the monument. It's...a big penis in the sky. Woo. One thing I should note is that every museum in DC is free, which is a bonus. And they're absolutely massive, so there were no lines at all. DC has tourism down to a science...I've never seen such efficiency anywhere else. This was a plus and a minus, though. I had scheduled 4 days to see everything I wanted to check out...after 4 hours though, I had already covered 80% of it. So, after all that efficiency...I figured it was time to get drunk. Duh. This is me we're talking about.
I was gonna go find 2 or 3 of the pubs I had heard so much about, but...I still had 3 days to kill in this place. I figured a nice, relaxing night with a case of beer in a hotel room never hurt anyone. In other words...I did the exact same thing that I did the night before. Yeungling, huge TV, dope hotel room...and Comedy Central. They had a Bob Saget roast on, and I nearly died laughing. It was awesome. It was so funny, I watched it twice. The 2nd time was actually funnier cuz I was drunk and forgot half of the first viewing...go Tim.
***Side note - Barack Obama just said something hilarious on CNN, and I wanna share it with you:
'My greatest strength? My humility. My greatest weakness? I might just be too awesome.' ***
Aaaand we're back.
So after Saget and Stamos were verbally raped, I was just watching random comedy stuff and chillin...till I heard what might be the funniest line I've ever endured. It's totally retarded, and you might not find it that funny at all...but after 12 yeunglings (times 2!) it was incredible. Here goes:
'I don't date girls from China. Why? Cuz that's a huge red flag!!'
'And I'm racist.'
Funny? Yes? No? I laughed again as I typed it, so it's funny. It's my blog, dammit.
Ooookay. So I watched some Hannah Montana for a while, then passed out. Don't tread on me, that show is funny. After another retardedly comfy sleep, I had to check out of my dope hotel and go check into another. When I originally planned the trip, I had planned on DC for 2 days, and Baltimore for 2. When I found out Baltimore was Compton-like, I changed it up. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a good deal at hotelopia anymore, so I ended up at a Radisson a couple of miles away, in Crystal City.
After checking out the Pentagon for a bit, I checked out the hood around the new hotel. Down the street was a little shopping center, with these establishments, in order from left to right:
Thai Restaurant. Check cashing place. Strip Club. 7/11.
I have never, ever seen a strip club directly next door to a 7/11 before. Naturally, I had to go in and see what 7/11 strippers look like, right? Hell no. 20 dollar cover at 2pm on a monday kinda killed that idea. Bullshit. So I went to a sports pub for shitty service and expensive beer. 15 minutes to get acknowledged...and there were maybe 7 other people in the bar. Needless to say, I didn't last long. Crystal city so far was...odd. I was fed up with Virginia for the moment, so I took the metro back to DC and went to find a bar I had been told about. It's called the Brickskeller.
The Brickskeller is heaven for beer drinkers. They sell 1000 different beers. 1000. A different one for every seat in the museum McDonalds. They hand you a binder/menu, and you choose. It was epic. I tried a few different types...some good, some not so good. After a few hours it started to get busy, so I headed out and went to check out the Foggy Bottom area. Went to a couple of other bars, nothing too special. Headed back to Crystal City early, got beer from the Gentleman's 7/11, ordered pizza, and bet on approximately 12 baseball games. Drank said beer, lost 10 of the 12 fucking bets, and passed out on the uncomfy adjustable bed. Fucking Mets.
Last day in DC. I was gonna head to Baltimore for the day, but I was incredibly lazy, and taking the train seemed too complicated. Looking back, it was retarded...I totally should have gone up there...but I had ZERO motivation that day for some reason. I dragged my ass back to the sports pub up the street reluctantly, but received a completely different reception. A ridiculously hot waitress served me right away, the food was awesome, and she even came back and sat with me and bullshitted for a while. She gave me a free Stella too, cuz 'Canadians are awesome'. Because I'm so witty and charming, my responses to her questions usually involved drool, grunting, and staring at her tits...but I'm sure she's used to this kinda thing. And I repped the country like a fucking hero. I stood on guard for thee. By thee, I mean her boobs.
After all that hard work...I went and took a nap. I still hadn't seen the White House and I was leaving at 10am the next day...but I had zero desire to be a tourist that day. My hotel had a bar, so I went down there and watched some baseball for a while...before I knew it, it was midnight and I was unsober. 7/11, more comedy central and Hannah Montana...yea, it was a complete waste of a day. And don't hate on Miley, she's witty. Like me!
In the morning, I learned a new traveling lesson.
Lesson 454, Subsection B, part IV: It might seem cool to charge your drinks to your room at the hotel bar, but you quickly lose track of the numero of the cervezas that you...uh, drinko. The 90 dollar bill that awaited my checkout was not exactly awesome, considering a case of beer was 7 dollars across the street. Again...Go Tim.
Anyways, I headed out on the metro to check out the White House before I headed up to the airport. I got there and...it's the White House. You can't really get anywhere near it. The guards are cranky. There are weirdos all over the place, even at 7am on a wednesday. Go figure. So, onto the airport, then...
Next stop....Boston!
So I woke up after a blissful yeungling-induced sleep in the comfiest bed ever. It's 9:30am, DC time. I'm super excited to go check out this city...for about 3 seconds, till I realized it's only 6:30 where I'm from.
4 hours later, it was time to see DC!
I took the metro into town, and got off at the stop that looked to be in the middle of the stuff I wanted to check out. Exit metro, go up the stairs...and I guess I was right. I am literally in the middle of eeeverything. To the left is the Washington Monument. To the right is the Capitol. In front of me is the Natural History Museum. Behind me...well, there are some asian tourists that are yelling 'Tayka pickcha! Tayka pickcha!' at each other...they're everywhere, folks.
My guidebook said it was a 2.2 mile 'beautiful grassy expanse' between the monument and the Capitol. The 2.2 miles part was correct. But beautiful grassy expanse? Try massive dustbowl with some semi-dead grassy patches. I haven't seen a lawn that unkempt since I saw these naked Icelandic bitches at www. hairyicela...what, too much info?
Where was I? Oh yea, DC. My first goal was to go to the Natural History Museum in front of me to see some dinosaurs! I figured it would be kind of anticlimactic, since I get to reside with a living, breathing dinosaur...but it was still cool (Just kidding dad!). It's a pretty sweet museum, actually. Some massive dinosaur skeletons, the Hope Diamond, a few other things. I spent an hour or so meandering about, then headed over to the Air and Space Museum. It was gigantic...it holds the capsule from an Apollo space mission, at least 15 full-sized planes from various eras, blah blah. I'm a weirdo though, cuz my favourite part of the whole museum was...the McDonalds.
It was, without a doubt, the biggest Mickey D's I have ever seen in my life. Over 1000 seats. One thousand. No joke. Serves 15,000 people a day. It has like 20 'lanes' where they rifle you through quicker than a fucking gas chamber lineup. Employees SCREAMED at you to keep moving. It was crazily militant, yet absurdly efficient. I can't imagine what they would do if you tried to get picky with your order....'You want extra pickles? Here's your fucking extra pickles!' as the Hamburglar violates you in the pooper and humiliates you in front of everyone. So yea...it was intense. Nice place though. And I have an overactive imagination, apparently.
After that, I walked up to the Capitol (which was pretty awesome), then into another museum, then took the metro back to the monument. It's...a big penis in the sky. Woo. One thing I should note is that every museum in DC is free, which is a bonus. And they're absolutely massive, so there were no lines at all. DC has tourism down to a science...I've never seen such efficiency anywhere else. This was a plus and a minus, though. I had scheduled 4 days to see everything I wanted to check out...after 4 hours though, I had already covered 80% of it. So, after all that efficiency...I figured it was time to get drunk. Duh. This is me we're talking about.
I was gonna go find 2 or 3 of the pubs I had heard so much about, but...I still had 3 days to kill in this place. I figured a nice, relaxing night with a case of beer in a hotel room never hurt anyone. In other words...I did the exact same thing that I did the night before. Yeungling, huge TV, dope hotel room...and Comedy Central. They had a Bob Saget roast on, and I nearly died laughing. It was awesome. It was so funny, I watched it twice. The 2nd time was actually funnier cuz I was drunk and forgot half of the first viewing...go Tim.
***Side note - Barack Obama just said something hilarious on CNN, and I wanna share it with you:
'My greatest strength? My humility. My greatest weakness? I might just be too awesome.' ***
Aaaand we're back.
So after Saget and Stamos were verbally raped, I was just watching random comedy stuff and chillin...till I heard what might be the funniest line I've ever endured. It's totally retarded, and you might not find it that funny at all...but after 12 yeunglings (times 2!) it was incredible. Here goes:
'I don't date girls from China. Why? Cuz that's a huge red flag!!'
'And I'm racist.'
Funny? Yes? No? I laughed again as I typed it, so it's funny. It's my blog, dammit.
Ooookay. So I watched some Hannah Montana for a while, then passed out. Don't tread on me, that show is funny. After another retardedly comfy sleep, I had to check out of my dope hotel and go check into another. When I originally planned the trip, I had planned on DC for 2 days, and Baltimore for 2. When I found out Baltimore was Compton-like, I changed it up. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a good deal at hotelopia anymore, so I ended up at a Radisson a couple of miles away, in Crystal City.
After checking out the Pentagon for a bit, I checked out the hood around the new hotel. Down the street was a little shopping center, with these establishments, in order from left to right:
Thai Restaurant. Check cashing place. Strip Club. 7/11.
I have never, ever seen a strip club directly next door to a 7/11 before. Naturally, I had to go in and see what 7/11 strippers look like, right? Hell no. 20 dollar cover at 2pm on a monday kinda killed that idea. Bullshit. So I went to a sports pub for shitty service and expensive beer. 15 minutes to get acknowledged...and there were maybe 7 other people in the bar. Needless to say, I didn't last long. Crystal city so far was...odd. I was fed up with Virginia for the moment, so I took the metro back to DC and went to find a bar I had been told about. It's called the Brickskeller.
The Brickskeller is heaven for beer drinkers. They sell 1000 different beers. 1000. A different one for every seat in the museum McDonalds. They hand you a binder/menu, and you choose. It was epic. I tried a few different types...some good, some not so good. After a few hours it started to get busy, so I headed out and went to check out the Foggy Bottom area. Went to a couple of other bars, nothing too special. Headed back to Crystal City early, got beer from the Gentleman's 7/11, ordered pizza, and bet on approximately 12 baseball games. Drank said beer, lost 10 of the 12 fucking bets, and passed out on the uncomfy adjustable bed. Fucking Mets.
Last day in DC. I was gonna head to Baltimore for the day, but I was incredibly lazy, and taking the train seemed too complicated. Looking back, it was retarded...I totally should have gone up there...but I had ZERO motivation that day for some reason. I dragged my ass back to the sports pub up the street reluctantly, but received a completely different reception. A ridiculously hot waitress served me right away, the food was awesome, and she even came back and sat with me and bullshitted for a while. She gave me a free Stella too, cuz 'Canadians are awesome'. Because I'm so witty and charming, my responses to her questions usually involved drool, grunting, and staring at her tits...but I'm sure she's used to this kinda thing. And I repped the country like a fucking hero. I stood on guard for thee. By thee, I mean her boobs.
After all that hard work...I went and took a nap. I still hadn't seen the White House and I was leaving at 10am the next day...but I had zero desire to be a tourist that day. My hotel had a bar, so I went down there and watched some baseball for a while...before I knew it, it was midnight and I was unsober. 7/11, more comedy central and Hannah Montana...yea, it was a complete waste of a day. And don't hate on Miley, she's witty. Like me!
In the morning, I learned a new traveling lesson.
Lesson 454, Subsection B, part IV: It might seem cool to charge your drinks to your room at the hotel bar, but you quickly lose track of the numero of the cervezas that you...uh, drinko. The 90 dollar bill that awaited my checkout was not exactly awesome, considering a case of beer was 7 dollars across the street. Again...Go Tim.
Anyways, I headed out on the metro to check out the White House before I headed up to the airport. I got there and...it's the White House. You can't really get anywhere near it. The guards are cranky. There are weirdos all over the place, even at 7am on a wednesday. Go figure. So, onto the airport, then...
Next stop....Boston!
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