Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Every carpet is like Sunday
It's April 25th here in this prison, and they are treating us well. The booter butt has pretty much all but cleaned itself up. The days are getting longer, because in 72 or so hours I will be on two flights that will take me home. The end of this voyage is upon, and it's been awesome and amazing. Today might be the laziest day I've ever had out here. Its been good, but it's also a reminder that I hate Sundays, because they are boring and depression always creeps up when I cant sleep, blah blah blah. Im super stoked that I will be coming home soon. I wish I was already there. I am fortunate to have working arms. Seriously, fuck the guy last night at Beggar's Canyon, which is an intersection where the poorest of the poor come up to your window in traffic begging for money. This guy had t'rex arms. That's the second t'rex arms experience in my life, and why do I have to be so lucky to have that happen twice. I dont understand. Shit haunts me. Yea, dinosaurs are awesome, but people with t'rex arms freak me out. I wish it didnt, but fuck, even if I was to give this man some money it would involve touching him, and fuck that. Those backwards slinky wrists couldnt grip the ghandi's if I had tried to hand it to him, and lets say I had. I would've put the money note on his chest, and he would have been forced to lean that t'rex arm against his chest. Then, I took the wind into consideration. Had there been a breeze, it would have flown away, due to his lack of grip, which would have caused him to take off, and be forced to fall on the money to pick it up, or use his feet to grab, and what if he falls on the money, and misses. Then the money is long gone, and not only have I thought I did a poor fellow a favor, I made his life worse by offering money, and only having it fly away. And seriously, there were so many beggars ready to pounce on this weak man. A five year old could have kicked his ass, so I did the rightful and kept my head straight and did not give him any money. I suck. I cant help these poor people, and I refuse to make someone's life worse, which is what would have happened had I given this t'rex arm guy money. His arm wouldve ended up broken, and that would've come back to haunt me double time. I'm hoping this is the last t'rex arm experience in my life, but I'm afraid it's not. The 3rd time will be a charm, and those arms will end up picking my nose or something, and I'll be forced to head to Saigon to find that whore who bit off Chris Farley's nose, and pay her to bite off my nose. G-SEVEEAAAAWWWWNNNNN.
It's funny to look back in life and figure out how the fuck did I end up in this situation. My current situation stems back all the way to being twelve years old, and 14 years later amongst a bunch of different webs of people and choices and situations in life I ended up in Hyderabad, India. Life's weird, and who knows where it will take me next and what person or web of people will have a positive or negative effect on me and my life. The direction is open to anything, and hell who knows where I could end up. The people I've met so far continue to be amazing. It's been one hell of a ride so far, and I hope the good times never end.
Rob, I'm gonna need you to give me a Ronnie Thunder tattoo when I get home. I really dont care what it looks like, just make it happen, and I'll kick you some ends. Autosave is failing, this means the google plex just collapsed, and skynet is running everything. They couldnt wait 2 fucking years like they were supposed to, welp fuck em. We got John Connor, BITCH!!!!!!! When the gates of hell open up, and Turbo Man himself is no longer Governor, we are fucked. Laters society, hello skulls for roads. The only way to stop this is if the sharks win the cup this year. If this happens, San Jose will be set on fire, and it might reach Mountain View to stop Google and Skynet from taking over the world.
When did you last get drunk? OVER THE WEEKEND YOU STUPID BITCH!
American Song Playlist
Bruce Springsteen-Born in the USA
Kid Rock-American Bad Ass
Tom Petty-American Girl
Miley Cyrus-Party in the USA
Beach Boys-Surfin USA
Creedence Clearwater Revival-Fortunate Son
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Hang on carpet, Turn 4 is might treachorous
You ever get that empty feeling in your stomach? When nothing else matters around you, and your bowels tighten and you're left wondering how? and why? when it comes to everything. Nothing will make it go away, and nothing will ever make it any easier. Not friends, not drugs, love, violence. The only cure is dedication, but for what? to not be embarrassed? That's a stupid reason to have a feeling. I'm talking about having bubble guts and super soaking toilets with my ass. Yea, my stomach is empty, because nothing is there. I havent eaten much, because it turns to thin pudding and doesnt like to hang out very long. Hell yea I got cramps and my bowels tighten, and I'm dedicated because I dont want the embarrassment of shitting my pants. I was 20 last time that happened, and I'll be 27 soon. So, I got a good streak on my hands. As for my stomach, well fuck it. How did I last 6 weeks in India without shitting my brains out. I even took the medicine they gave me, and it chilled me out for two days, but I ate some pasta and it immediately ressurrected that zombie that has been living in my ass that I thought was gone. This shit better be done before next week. Oh well, these beers arent gonna hurt anything, cuz it really cant get any worse. Its 112 degrees and I'm worried about soup dripping down the back of my thighs, hell it'll probably cool me off a bit. Its way too hot out here to be shitting myself, actually there is never a good time to shit yourself. Shitting ones self makes you worthless, like a fucking baby. I dont wanna be a baby, I'm a big boy. I did all the things my uncle told me would make hair grow on my chest, and it worked a little bit. Adults dont shit their pants, and technically, law states I'm an adult. I cant shit my pants until I'm a senior citizen, and by the time that comes, technology will be so far advanced, people wont even shit anymore. We will be like the parasite eye worms that can leach onto your eyes, and turn 100% of the food they eat into energy, thus not needing an asshole for anything, which is the government and the churches plan to rid the world of anal sex, which they hope will rid the world of male on male homosexual intercourse. And the young mind thinks, what if they only make out and suck each other off like woman, and still love each other as a companion, and immediately the young mind is slapped in the back of the head, because sewing up the asshole will rid the world of anal sex. Period. This, is fact according to the church. But, seriously, if you read this, and thought I was being emo about something fuck off. My asshole is having torrential downpours of brown showers and I hate it. Kill me please. There is no happy ending.
I'm coming home in a week, and I couldnt be anymore stoked. Back to reality. Back to the real world. I've been in a dream world for two months, not really this experience has been a mind blowing, eye opening trip down the rabbit hole that's changed a few perspectives, and made many new friends and lots of laughs that I'll remember forevor. But, isnt that everyday. It should be. The only bummer is that Merauder is playing at Gilman the same night that I have tickets to see the Murder City Devils. Never seen the Murder City Devils, so score for me. The internet will work when I get home, it sure as hell doesnt work good out here. India has more cell phones than toilets, FACT. This country needs a big dance party, and I aint talking bout line dancing in the streets to a song mumbling bout pre-determined marriages to make the smartest engineer possible.
I think my tattoo may be infected. Oh well, I told ya'll I was gonna die out here. Everyone told me, but the hand on this fool is fucked up. His index finger is tiny, but his other fingers are hella fat, and there is a few lines that are supposed to look like detail for the palm, but it looks like an Atlanta Braves "A". HAHAHAHHA, win for me. Braves World Series 2010. Go fuck yourself, and knock over a porta potty at the stadium. I bet you wont. I dont think you'll do it.
I miss you.
I'm coming home in a week, and I couldnt be anymore stoked. Back to reality. Back to the real world. I've been in a dream world for two months, not really this experience has been a mind blowing, eye opening trip down the rabbit hole that's changed a few perspectives, and made many new friends and lots of laughs that I'll remember forevor. But, isnt that everyday. It should be. The only bummer is that Merauder is playing at Gilman the same night that I have tickets to see the Murder City Devils. Never seen the Murder City Devils, so score for me. The internet will work when I get home, it sure as hell doesnt work good out here. India has more cell phones than toilets, FACT. This country needs a big dance party, and I aint talking bout line dancing in the streets to a song mumbling bout pre-determined marriages to make the smartest engineer possible.
I think my tattoo may be infected. Oh well, I told ya'll I was gonna die out here. Everyone told me, but the hand on this fool is fucked up. His index finger is tiny, but his other fingers are hella fat, and there is a few lines that are supposed to look like detail for the palm, but it looks like an Atlanta Braves "A". HAHAHAHHA, win for me. Braves World Series 2010. Go fuck yourself, and knock over a porta potty at the stadium. I bet you wont. I dont think you'll do it.
I miss you.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Riding the carpet bareback, It's the only way.
Welp, I'm still alive. Kinda happy that I'm alive, and I dont mean that in any morbid or sadistic sense. It's fucking good to be alive, and be an American. I'm gonna try to recap on the entire Goa trip. A lot happened, and this blog is for me. And only me, but you can enjoy if you like. First off, my grammar isnt horrible, I"m dyslexic. I often leave words out of sentences, and when I proofread my emails/blogs/facebook posts i read two thoughts ahead of the sentence I am scanning(not reading), and I always seem to fuck it up. Well fuck it. I talk ass backwards half of the time. Rot gut caught up with me. I took the Cyppro tonight. My stomach was fucked, has been for a few days, but it didnt slow me down, but some guy at a bathroom in Baga Beach is pissed, or shall I say not happy that I sprayed shit all over the way. Maybe it's my gift to India, a way of saying thanks for the piss ass. There was no need to thank them, because they know, oh they know. Besides, it was a fucking accident and no turds or turd water got on me or my clothes. Score for me.
Let's see. At the Indian airports you dont walk to your terminal, or walk outside onto steps onto a plane. They put you on a bus, and the bus takes for to the other side of the tarmac, where you get on the plane. Our plane was Kingfischer Air, which is bigger than Budweiser here and they dont serve beer. We arrive at the plane, and it has props and looks like something repainted from the 1940's or a prop from the set of an Indiana Jones film. This thing was like a roller coaster ride, and I kept laughing way too loud every time the plane dipped. After telling the stewdardess that I love her, we arrive in Goa. It's been hot in Hyderabad, but it was just as hot, with hella humidity. Sweat central, I'm talking swamp ass dumpy drawers. Our cab driver from the airport to the hotel stops in the middle of nowhere to unload some trash, I thought we were fucked, and this is where I was going to die. Im alive. A life insurance conference rave was going on at our hotel, and everyone was completely shit faced. Falling down drunk everywhere. We had a few drinks and called it a night, since we worked that morning, so I had been up since 6:45. The first day we get dropped off at the beach, and we rent bikes. Greg gets a motorcycle and me a scooter. The dude we got them from didnt take our names, just our hotel room number, and asked if we had a license. I never answered if I had a license. The dude had something growing in his road rash, it was green and yellow and he shook my hand anyways. I almost killed these people while they were trying to enjoy their lunch. Not on purpose, on the bike. Driving a bike in India is insane and awesome. We went to Baga Beach, and I set up a tattoo appointment. The guys asked if I could leave them a deposit. I said sure, but I got hella serious with them and told them if they were not there when I came for my appointment that I would throw a brick through their window, and they said funny joke, and I let them know I wasnt kidding. This was shitty of me, but I expected to lose this money, because you dont just give people money in return for something a few days later, especially in a 3rd world country. The beach in Goa is something serious. One of the most beautiful places I have ever been to on the planet. Lots of laid back Indian folk, a good amount of English and Australian tourists with some sketchy Russians mixed in. Why are they sketchy? Keep reading and find out. The beach had a two or three thousand people there, but it didnt seem crowded, and some places were remote. All of my friends who previously came to Goa told me to go to Planet Goa, so we found this place.
Planet Goa is a beach shack that we went to everyday that had good music, awesome seafood, cheap beer, and excellent service all in the sand. Paradise for dirt cheap. I was sweating the entire time, and didnt like the hagglers, but man what a view. I couldnt stop saying "I'm in India, the other side of the world and this is paradise" Just like everyone told me, if you ever make it to India, you have to make it to Goa. It will change your life. Plus, I love the beach. Planet Goa is run by the "DON", well a large man named Joe who looked like Christopher Wallace aka The Notorious B.I.G. It's like they say, mo money mo problems. Dude has hella good people working for him, and some of the best shrimp and fish ever. Feni drinks galore. All the dogs in India are skinny as fuck, but Planet Goa had 8-10 of the fattest/laziest dogs I have ever seen that enjoy rice and left overs all day long.
After the first day at the beach, we go back to the hotel and jump in the pool. I say hello to this guy at the bar at the pool while ordering a drink, and he is shit faced and speaking only Russian. No problem. I look at his arm, and he has serious fucking road rash all down the backside of his arm, and his girlfriend's leg looks like it prolly is going to get gang green because she used the road as cheese grater on one of her legs. All of a sudden Greg says, look what I found and points to the bar that is in the pool, and what do you know, a coke sack is laying on the bar, and I say what the fuck, and we both start laughing. Immediately at this point I step on something, and I say, hey I found some old ladies glasses and pull them up with my feet, and they are Greg's glasses that he didnt even know he lost in the pool. I saved his life at the very moment that he let the Russian dude know that his coke sack got soaked in the pool. I'm glad the bartender didnt think it was ours. A few days later we were in the pool, and that guy left and almost fell in the bar, and over a few chairs. His buddy paid, but he took the money. The bartender came back, and said "that guy is HIGH" we got a good laugh.
Jessie arrived Thursday night. I was too drunk/hungover to do anything. Drinking in the sun all day'll getcha. Friday we went to some fort with a lighthouse which was a good hour ride on the scooters. I got sunburned like a mother fucker, because I was wearing a tank top. Hauling ass on a scooter, passing cows and an elephant. Went to Anjuna beach, which had the most amazing view. We chatted it up with some Welsch couple, and he told me about his two tattoos from Two Thumbs Tommy in the 50's from Singapore. Found out about the volcano that might fuck my ride home. Instead of going over Iceland or Europe, we got straight over Santa Clause's house at the North Pole. I'd like to say hello, but the only way is if we crash, and I'm sure the crew of the plane would sacrifice me to a polar bear before we even found Ole Kris Kringles slave shop. We went back to Planet Goa, I ended up with a shell necklace that I"m going to wear everyday until it breaks. It sucks, and I dont give a fuck. Saturday we hung out all day at the hotel, because it was too hot, so we went to the beach for the sunset and drank til late on the beach at Planet Goa. Learned a lot about the area from a few people, and got wasted.
Sunday, leaving day, or shall I say the best and worst decision of 2010. I got tattoo'd at a shop I wouldnt step foot inside if I was in America. The dudes were so nice, and did not wear shoes. Hello hepatitis, but I got my shots before I left, so I'm ok, for now at least. The guys used fresh needles, and brand new tubes, but I was still sketched out. The front door of the shop had a picture of Eminem from his album cover of him showing off his tribal tats and his tat of Haley. Also, on the wall were many people's tattoos that were not tattoo'd at this place. The guys took pics of all of my tattoos and told me they would print them, and put them on their wall for me to see next time I came. So, they can tell all their clients that all of the retarded ones I have were done at their shop. Now, my expectations were low going into this, but I feel that it came out decent, and by that, I mean a lil better than ok. HAHAHA, it still sucks and rules and I got ripped off on the price, but, oh well. I knew it was all bad when the chair was taken, and we almost got started with us on the floor. Dude then takes out what he shows me to be a new straight razor out of carboard box and says "see, clean" and then shaves my leg. Well, he sliced me the fuck open. I'm like, god damn it, but I'm only going through with this, because Nate Martin and I pussied out on getting Bobsled tattoos in the Bahamas. This was sketchier times 1000. The dudes were too nice, and we had a bunch of weird conversations. I apologized for threatening them that I would throw a brick through their window if they fucked me on my money, and they said no worries. They kept saying, "if you have good mind, you make good tattoo" Words of wisdom. The convos got on a weird tip, and they were telling me that they dont do cross tattoos, because it's a bad omen or something. The last one they did the woman did not pay for, and her next tattoo got hella infected. And they dont do tattoos of any religous things on your heart,chest, or back because the gods wont like it. Then, they explained to me why beautiful Goa is screwed in two to three years. The Russians. The locals hate the Russians, and the English have come in fewer number due to the Russians selling drugs and women and strong arming the locals. And it gives a lot of local people money, but in the bad way, and it makes people crazy and violent. Communist India, think about it. This is fucked, because India has very little crime. Well, Hyderabad and Goa have little crime. I cant speak for the larger cities. Greg and Jessie arrived at the shop, and one of the guys yelled "YEA MAN, YOU DONT PAY FOR PUSSY" Too funny. Deccan Chargers are in the semi finals. So, with all this said, I got a tattoo in India, and I'm probably gooder than dead. See ya on the other side with my man on a flying carpet with a lighning bolt necklace and a turbine with OK SIR on the bottom of the carpet. I know, Rusty, you're an idiot. I feel so bad for you.
My long weekend in Goa was very relaxing. I wish I could stay there forevor. If I could hook up a job with enough money to live on, I would stay there for a season, or a year. It is that awesome. I dont need much to survive, and fuck that place is just too awesome. I cant describe how amazing it is. Everyone should travel here, its a paradise lost in a shit hole. Boats almost running over each other, shipping lanes with tankers to your left, palm trees and cliffs and postcard views of everything to your right. I dont have any pics, but this guy has some, but none from Goa yet.
jaythroughglass.blogspot.com
Less than ten days left in India. I'll be living at the Hollywood house when I get home. Bike rides in the cool summer air, and baseball games everyday.
Let's see. At the Indian airports you dont walk to your terminal, or walk outside onto steps onto a plane. They put you on a bus, and the bus takes for to the other side of the tarmac, where you get on the plane. Our plane was Kingfischer Air, which is bigger than Budweiser here and they dont serve beer. We arrive at the plane, and it has props and looks like something repainted from the 1940's or a prop from the set of an Indiana Jones film. This thing was like a roller coaster ride, and I kept laughing way too loud every time the plane dipped. After telling the stewdardess that I love her, we arrive in Goa. It's been hot in Hyderabad, but it was just as hot, with hella humidity. Sweat central, I'm talking swamp ass dumpy drawers. Our cab driver from the airport to the hotel stops in the middle of nowhere to unload some trash, I thought we were fucked, and this is where I was going to die. Im alive. A life insurance conference rave was going on at our hotel, and everyone was completely shit faced. Falling down drunk everywhere. We had a few drinks and called it a night, since we worked that morning, so I had been up since 6:45. The first day we get dropped off at the beach, and we rent bikes. Greg gets a motorcycle and me a scooter. The dude we got them from didnt take our names, just our hotel room number, and asked if we had a license. I never answered if I had a license. The dude had something growing in his road rash, it was green and yellow and he shook my hand anyways. I almost killed these people while they were trying to enjoy their lunch. Not on purpose, on the bike. Driving a bike in India is insane and awesome. We went to Baga Beach, and I set up a tattoo appointment. The guys asked if I could leave them a deposit. I said sure, but I got hella serious with them and told them if they were not there when I came for my appointment that I would throw a brick through their window, and they said funny joke, and I let them know I wasnt kidding. This was shitty of me, but I expected to lose this money, because you dont just give people money in return for something a few days later, especially in a 3rd world country. The beach in Goa is something serious. One of the most beautiful places I have ever been to on the planet. Lots of laid back Indian folk, a good amount of English and Australian tourists with some sketchy Russians mixed in. Why are they sketchy? Keep reading and find out. The beach had a two or three thousand people there, but it didnt seem crowded, and some places were remote. All of my friends who previously came to Goa told me to go to Planet Goa, so we found this place.
Planet Goa is a beach shack that we went to everyday that had good music, awesome seafood, cheap beer, and excellent service all in the sand. Paradise for dirt cheap. I was sweating the entire time, and didnt like the hagglers, but man what a view. I couldnt stop saying "I'm in India, the other side of the world and this is paradise" Just like everyone told me, if you ever make it to India, you have to make it to Goa. It will change your life. Plus, I love the beach. Planet Goa is run by the "DON", well a large man named Joe who looked like Christopher Wallace aka The Notorious B.I.G. It's like they say, mo money mo problems. Dude has hella good people working for him, and some of the best shrimp and fish ever. Feni drinks galore. All the dogs in India are skinny as fuck, but Planet Goa had 8-10 of the fattest/laziest dogs I have ever seen that enjoy rice and left overs all day long.
After the first day at the beach, we go back to the hotel and jump in the pool. I say hello to this guy at the bar at the pool while ordering a drink, and he is shit faced and speaking only Russian. No problem. I look at his arm, and he has serious fucking road rash all down the backside of his arm, and his girlfriend's leg looks like it prolly is going to get gang green because she used the road as cheese grater on one of her legs. All of a sudden Greg says, look what I found and points to the bar that is in the pool, and what do you know, a coke sack is laying on the bar, and I say what the fuck, and we both start laughing. Immediately at this point I step on something, and I say, hey I found some old ladies glasses and pull them up with my feet, and they are Greg's glasses that he didnt even know he lost in the pool. I saved his life at the very moment that he let the Russian dude know that his coke sack got soaked in the pool. I'm glad the bartender didnt think it was ours. A few days later we were in the pool, and that guy left and almost fell in the bar, and over a few chairs. His buddy paid, but he took the money. The bartender came back, and said "that guy is HIGH" we got a good laugh.
Jessie arrived Thursday night. I was too drunk/hungover to do anything. Drinking in the sun all day'll getcha. Friday we went to some fort with a lighthouse which was a good hour ride on the scooters. I got sunburned like a mother fucker, because I was wearing a tank top. Hauling ass on a scooter, passing cows and an elephant. Went to Anjuna beach, which had the most amazing view. We chatted it up with some Welsch couple, and he told me about his two tattoos from Two Thumbs Tommy in the 50's from Singapore. Found out about the volcano that might fuck my ride home. Instead of going over Iceland or Europe, we got straight over Santa Clause's house at the North Pole. I'd like to say hello, but the only way is if we crash, and I'm sure the crew of the plane would sacrifice me to a polar bear before we even found Ole Kris Kringles slave shop. We went back to Planet Goa, I ended up with a shell necklace that I"m going to wear everyday until it breaks. It sucks, and I dont give a fuck. Saturday we hung out all day at the hotel, because it was too hot, so we went to the beach for the sunset and drank til late on the beach at Planet Goa. Learned a lot about the area from a few people, and got wasted.
Sunday, leaving day, or shall I say the best and worst decision of 2010. I got tattoo'd at a shop I wouldnt step foot inside if I was in America. The dudes were so nice, and did not wear shoes. Hello hepatitis, but I got my shots before I left, so I'm ok, for now at least. The guys used fresh needles, and brand new tubes, but I was still sketched out. The front door of the shop had a picture of Eminem from his album cover of him showing off his tribal tats and his tat of Haley. Also, on the wall were many people's tattoos that were not tattoo'd at this place. The guys took pics of all of my tattoos and told me they would print them, and put them on their wall for me to see next time I came. So, they can tell all their clients that all of the retarded ones I have were done at their shop. Now, my expectations were low going into this, but I feel that it came out decent, and by that, I mean a lil better than ok. HAHAHA, it still sucks and rules and I got ripped off on the price, but, oh well. I knew it was all bad when the chair was taken, and we almost got started with us on the floor. Dude then takes out what he shows me to be a new straight razor out of carboard box and says "see, clean" and then shaves my leg. Well, he sliced me the fuck open. I'm like, god damn it, but I'm only going through with this, because Nate Martin and I pussied out on getting Bobsled tattoos in the Bahamas. This was sketchier times 1000. The dudes were too nice, and we had a bunch of weird conversations. I apologized for threatening them that I would throw a brick through their window if they fucked me on my money, and they said no worries. They kept saying, "if you have good mind, you make good tattoo" Words of wisdom. The convos got on a weird tip, and they were telling me that they dont do cross tattoos, because it's a bad omen or something. The last one they did the woman did not pay for, and her next tattoo got hella infected. And they dont do tattoos of any religous things on your heart,chest, or back because the gods wont like it. Then, they explained to me why beautiful Goa is screwed in two to three years. The Russians. The locals hate the Russians, and the English have come in fewer number due to the Russians selling drugs and women and strong arming the locals. And it gives a lot of local people money, but in the bad way, and it makes people crazy and violent. Communist India, think about it. This is fucked, because India has very little crime. Well, Hyderabad and Goa have little crime. I cant speak for the larger cities. Greg and Jessie arrived at the shop, and one of the guys yelled "YEA MAN, YOU DONT PAY FOR PUSSY" Too funny. Deccan Chargers are in the semi finals. So, with all this said, I got a tattoo in India, and I'm probably gooder than dead. See ya on the other side with my man on a flying carpet with a lighning bolt necklace and a turbine with OK SIR on the bottom of the carpet. I know, Rusty, you're an idiot. I feel so bad for you.
My long weekend in Goa was very relaxing. I wish I could stay there forevor. If I could hook up a job with enough money to live on, I would stay there for a season, or a year. It is that awesome. I dont need much to survive, and fuck that place is just too awesome. I cant describe how amazing it is. Everyone should travel here, its a paradise lost in a shit hole. Boats almost running over each other, shipping lanes with tankers to your left, palm trees and cliffs and postcard views of everything to your right. I dont have any pics, but this guy has some, but none from Goa yet.
jaythroughglass.blogspot.com
Less than ten days left in India. I'll be living at the Hollywood house when I get home. Bike rides in the cool summer air, and baseball games everyday.
Monday, April 12, 2010
If this carpet is a flying, dont come a knockin
A friend of mine lost his brother earlier this week. Tim, dont know if you'll read this, but my heart goes out to you, and your family during this tough time. The world has lost a true AMERICAN.
We have been moved to the guest houses from the Luxor Inn, because we were treated horribly there. I began writing on my post cards to my mother and my boss, and then folding the post cards into origami's in hopes that the pigeon would somehow think it was his young, and just know to jump on that airplane's undercarriage, and get his ass to America to let everyone know that I was living in a prison with hard beds, and rotten food. That's beyond sarcastic. The Luxor Inn was a fabulous place where they treated us like kings, and now we are at a guest house where they treat us like royalty. I dont see the difference, other than the internet is not that strong, so I havent updated this jam in about a week. So, a lot can happen in a week, and not much at all. I hope I cover it all, even though I know I wont. I really dont want this post to be too long, because I'm scared it might not post due to the power going out a few times every hour and the router restarting. India cant handle all the jiggawatts. And the power just went out, and hasnt come back on.
On to something serious, that I know I will regret. A guy at work told me there is a tattoo shop about ten kilometers from here, and that it is very hygenic, like a surgeon. Just like the weird Al song, and I was sold. That's that. I"m gonna get a tattoo in India. I dont know what yet, but it will either have a flying carpet, a monkey, a dinosaur bone, Ben Laden, or a bunch of trash burning. Who knows, but if any of you assholes that read this wanna give me a bad idea, then please leave a comment. I've already decided to take the plunge, and there is no pussying out this time. Me and Nate already did that in the Bahamas, and this will probably be sketchier, but fuck it. I got my hepatitis shot before I left, so I"m coooh. And if my arm or leg falls off, then it was by the grace of your God, and just meant to be. No one is talking me out of this, so dont even try. I'm getting this even if its on the street and a rat shits on it while they do it. You only live once.
Today it was 44 degrees celsius, and for Americans that means it was 111 degrees Farenheit. Fuck you power, turn back on. It's hot as shit in this mother fucker. And I wanna post this jam. Talked to a guy about music, told him I like punk rock, and he says "we call that pussy rock". He likes metal. It was awesome. They have weddings on the weekends and shoot off fireworks and it sounds like a rave outside of our place. Saw a guy with a Suicidal Tendencies shirt on. A guy I work with looks like a secret agent. He has a perfect stache from a Lesley Neilsen movie. These Kingfischers aint gonna drink themselves.
Going to Goa on Wednesday. Should be hot. Should be fun, lots of time to relax with cold beer.
We have been moved to the guest houses from the Luxor Inn, because we were treated horribly there. I began writing on my post cards to my mother and my boss, and then folding the post cards into origami's in hopes that the pigeon would somehow think it was his young, and just know to jump on that airplane's undercarriage, and get his ass to America to let everyone know that I was living in a prison with hard beds, and rotten food. That's beyond sarcastic. The Luxor Inn was a fabulous place where they treated us like kings, and now we are at a guest house where they treat us like royalty. I dont see the difference, other than the internet is not that strong, so I havent updated this jam in about a week. So, a lot can happen in a week, and not much at all. I hope I cover it all, even though I know I wont. I really dont want this post to be too long, because I'm scared it might not post due to the power going out a few times every hour and the router restarting. India cant handle all the jiggawatts. And the power just went out, and hasnt come back on.
On to something serious, that I know I will regret. A guy at work told me there is a tattoo shop about ten kilometers from here, and that it is very hygenic, like a surgeon. Just like the weird Al song, and I was sold. That's that. I"m gonna get a tattoo in India. I dont know what yet, but it will either have a flying carpet, a monkey, a dinosaur bone, Ben Laden, or a bunch of trash burning. Who knows, but if any of you assholes that read this wanna give me a bad idea, then please leave a comment. I've already decided to take the plunge, and there is no pussying out this time. Me and Nate already did that in the Bahamas, and this will probably be sketchier, but fuck it. I got my hepatitis shot before I left, so I"m coooh. And if my arm or leg falls off, then it was by the grace of your God, and just meant to be. No one is talking me out of this, so dont even try. I'm getting this even if its on the street and a rat shits on it while they do it. You only live once.
Today it was 44 degrees celsius, and for Americans that means it was 111 degrees Farenheit. Fuck you power, turn back on. It's hot as shit in this mother fucker. And I wanna post this jam. Talked to a guy about music, told him I like punk rock, and he says "we call that pussy rock". He likes metal. It was awesome. They have weddings on the weekends and shoot off fireworks and it sounds like a rave outside of our place. Saw a guy with a Suicidal Tendencies shirt on. A guy I work with looks like a secret agent. He has a perfect stache from a Lesley Neilsen movie. These Kingfischers aint gonna drink themselves.
Going to Goa on Wednesday. Should be hot. Should be fun, lots of time to relax with cold beer.
If this thing aint flying it aint shit
DOES THIS INTERNET WORK AT THE GUEST HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK YOU MR. BEAN
FUCK YOU MR. BEAN
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
I made a bid on a flying carpet on ebay that was from the set of Nick Arcade
Not much to report from Hyderabad, but a lot ranting from my end. We'll see if I can make it through this. Duke won the national title. Baseball season started today. The Braves kicked some major ass. Jason Heyward hit a homerun at his first major league at bat. I'm skeptic, because it's too early to tell about this kid, but damn, I'm excited and hope he can reach his potential. It would be awesome for the Braves. The team looks to be the best of the last ten years. We shouldnt have made the playoffs at the tail end of that 14 year run. Lets hope the magic comes back this year. It's Bobby's farewell tour, and probably Chipper's last stand. Sucks that the Braves will be in SF this weekend, and I'll be in Hyderabad. So this means that I have to make a trip to Atlanta to go to at least one Braves game this year.
Next, I am going to compile a list of things/items that do not exist in India.
-Shoes in my size. I want some of the pointy sparkly shoes, and I cant find them.
-Bic Lighters. I used to have one, it was magnificent.
-Easter, or the Easter Bunny.
-One Cocksparrer fan.
-Rules. There are no rules.
-Saying no. Its not in their vocabulary.
-Basketball Jerseys.
-3 meat sandwiches.
-Straight edge vegan cops.
I've been thinking about the first things I want to do when I arrive home. Grill out with forties and homies. Go to the driving range. Ride my bike. Go to the beach in Davenport. Go to a handdfull of hardcore shows. Eat a burrito. Go swimming.
Next, I am going to compile a list of things/items that do not exist in India.
-Shoes in my size. I want some of the pointy sparkly shoes, and I cant find them.
-Bic Lighters. I used to have one, it was magnificent.
-Easter, or the Easter Bunny.
-One Cocksparrer fan.
-Rules. There are no rules.
-Saying no. Its not in their vocabulary.
-Basketball Jerseys.
-3 meat sandwiches.
-Straight edge vegan cops.
I've been thinking about the first things I want to do when I arrive home. Grill out with forties and homies. Go to the driving range. Ride my bike. Go to the beach in Davenport. Go to a handdfull of hardcore shows. Eat a burrito. Go swimming.
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