Hump Day Helper: Blizzard '10 Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.



Today saw winter hit the East Coast in earnest, as NYC got a whole...seven inches of snow. Sure, the snowfall wasn't all that much, but trust me, there were like two hours where you didn't want to walk outside because, ohmigod, snow would get in your face, and that's all icky. All that snowfall didn't stop me from getting some exercise--sure the gym closed early, but I still was able to fit in a "jog". I even had a chance to indulge in my passion for blurry photography, and was even able to get some good shots in, like this one.

During all this I had Ra Ra Riot's The Rhumb Line playing on my iPod. I initially left that album off my best of '08 list, because I had listened to it only a few times before making the list. However, if I was given the chance to redo everything it would now easily make my top 5. The reason I chose the album (besides the fact that it's awesome) is that I remembered this video, which takes place in the dead of winter, at a house that reminds me of my time at Dartmouth Hall.

So there ya go, an apropos winter video. Plus the chick who plays the cello is totally hot.

What am I supposed to do
It's hard to stay cool
When you smile at me
And I get nervous every time you speak...

Yes I'm Still Alive and No I Still Can't Believe It

On Sunday, the unthinkable happened. The Saints won the goddamn Super Bowl. And boy howdy, did they do it in style, with a thrilling come-from-behind victory and shocking the world. As you can tell from previous posts, I'm a big fan of the Saints, so Sunday night was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. People from all over the country were calling and texting me their congratulations, and I was getting hugs from everybody at my friend's party. I had one text from a friend that said he was with someone from New Orleans, and she was crying because she was so happy. And as I watched team celebrate on the field, I responded "I'm right there with her."

As a fan, I've been pretty lucky. I've been a fan of the Florida Marlins for their entire existence, and having them win two World Series was pretty impressive. And I'm a bigger LSU fan than a Saints fan, so their national championships in 2003 and 2007 were as good as it got for me. However, nothing compares to the sheer joy I felt as I jumped up and cheered as Tracy Porter snagged that interception and ran it back for that exclamation point touchdown. I've won competitions, have had teams I've competed with win championships, but there is still nothing that will top that moment.



And I've been contemplating the full meaning of that. Do sports have that much of a commanding influence on my life? Definitely not, since I can go weeks without checking the sports pages; music is definitely a bigger addiction. I think it's definitely the culmination of just years of frustration finally being let go in a single moment--it's a feeling that Yankees fans will never understand. To be with a team when they're at their lowest lows makes being on top infinitely sweeter. Look, I've experienced many disappointments in my life--next Sunday will be a continuation of that in one respect--and I wouldn't put a sporting event in a top 10, not even the Blazers crushing 2000 loss to the Lakers, but I'm comfortable with having this victory be in my top 5 high points. This is probably a healthy attitude.

One of my friends commented "I am very disappointed that your profile doesn't have a picture of you wearing a Saints flag like a toga and getting drunk as fuck. 'cause that would be a pretty sweet picture." Fair statement, but in my defense no one had the foresight to bring a camera for the festivities, and you'll just have to rely on the word of my cohorts that I indeed lived up to the reputation of a true Louisianian and partied like there was no tomorrow. They'll tell you of my high-fiving and hugging, the shouting, the dancing, and the clutching of tequila bottles. Of course, being a proud Greek Cajun, I more than held my liquor despite imbibing copious amounts of devilish spirits, and showed up to class the next day as normal, with a mild grin replacing my usual half-frown and only the faintest whiff of alcohol clinging to my Saints sweatshirt. Plus, I'm still looking for a job, so pics might not be the best idea.

People are trying to comprehend how much the victory means to the city of New Orleans, but this is a fool's errand. Everybody points to Katrina and its effects on the city, and it's certainly being felt. I can't imagine how it is day-to-day for most of these people, having left the state long before the hurricane came. I had limited personal exposure, with my godbrothers' homes being flooded and seeing the flow of people move into Baton Rouge. But the thing about the Saints is that they were something that united all Louisianians, and to an extent the entire Gulf Coast region. For the longest time they were the only professional sports team in the region, in an area where Football is King. Rich and poor, black and white, we all loved the team. It might seem stupid to some people, who cares about those buzzkills. Watch this video and tell me you aren't moved:

Saints Superbowl Victory Celebration from Cottage Films on Vimeo.

We won. I still can't believe it.

WDR's Superbowl Celebration!

Watching it NOT for the commercials.

As you are aware (unless you've been living under a rock without TV for the last forty years) the Superbowl is this Sunday. This year features the Indianapolis Colts v. the New Orleans Saints.

So, what is WDR doing to celebrate? Well, I'm pretty sure that Nic and I are going to round up some beer and Cheez Doodles and yell at the television. Joe, I'm sure, will do something that has nothing to do with football, but may involve Cheez Doodles (or some variant) and vodka. We wish him the best of luck with that.

As you may know, Nic is a Saints fan and, as such, is actually emotionally invested in the outcome of this game. I'm sure he'll elaborate on this soon.For me, I'd like to see the Saints win just as an underdog. Most of all, though, I want it to be a good game.

Now, it seems that everyone has a prediction about who will win and why. I'm not going to do that here. Instead, I'm going to share the best predictor I have found for the Superbowl winner: Tecmo Bowl.

That's right, the regular Nintendo football game has been calibrated to play out the Superbowl with the current Colts and Saints players. Someone seems to do one of these every year and every year they have predicted the winner accurately (that I have seen). The scores usually aren't even close to right, but the outcome always is. What do we have this year? YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO WATCH TO FIND OUT!


Tecmo Super Bowl XLIV from Alex Quigley on Vimeo.

I just like this because the game itself is THE BEST FOOTBALL VIDEO GAME EVER. Some will complain that the graphics suck, but that's minor. And have you noticed that anytime someone goes for punt or field goal that it is much more exciting than watching the event in real life? They make it look like the craziest shit is about to go down. The field goals are so long that you can actually SEE THE CURVATURE OF THE EARTH. If that's not awesome, I don't know what is.

Well, enjoy your Superbowl, everyone!

Hump Day Helper: Attempting to Go Viral

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.

OK Go - This Too Shall Pass from OK Go on Vimeo.

I've never been a big fan of OK GO, but I've never disliked them either. They've always had some catchy songs, and I didn't mind it that my radio station had a real boner for them. Plus, they were one of the few bands that still appreciated the possibilities of the music video, and for that I'm grateful.

So it was no surprise that the band came up with nifty idea for their latest single. Sure, there have been a lot of terrible music that has incorporated elements of marching band in them (I'm looking at you, Missy Elliott and Gwen Stefani), and God knows why--I was in marching band for four years, and it was some of the most awful shit ever. But somehow OK GO converts their song into marching music, and makes it work. And it doesn't hurt to see clarinets popping up from hiding in camo.

Let your inner band-geek freak flag fly, and take a look.

Is it really all that much to lug around
Better run like hell when you hit the ground...

If Only I Could Have One Of These In New York

After walking the streets of New York everyday for about 18 months now, I realize how much a pain in the ass dogs can be. Sure, for their owners it can be maddening as they don't just shut the fuck up or have to be brought outside to tinkle every 4 hours, even in the bitter-ass cold. No, it's also the fact that everyone else has to deal with these dogs on a constant basis. While it's been my experience that most of these dogs that I encounter don't jump on you when you're walking around, that doesn't mean all that much--I still have to put up with all these dogs' shit. Literally.

Sometimes it makes me wish I could have brought Rambo up here with me. Or maybe go about this another way, and get myself a new pet, like this guy in Poland:


Watch CBS News Videos Online

I'm just imagining the possibilities of walking down the street with a lion. It's as cute as a cat, plus you get the added bonus of maulings! It's an unbeatable combination! And maybe a visit from Lafcadio here would convince some of these assholes to pick up their dogs' shit.

Hump Day Helper: Another Apartment Story

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.



I'm going to begin the introduction of the video with a little story. I was still working as a DJ/Music Director back in 2007, when The National's acclaimed album Boxer came out. Since I was a guy who actually cared about music/his job, I had read up a lot in the press about how great these guys were, and so was eager to hear their stuff. I popped in their first single, the video above, and within about 45 seconds began to fall asleep, while wondering "What's the fuss?"

I must have been in a bad mood, because a couple of years later I find a used copy of Boxer in the Bargain Bin, and pick it up on a whim. This time, I'm more receptive, and begin to gradually appreciate a band which I affectionately call "Leonard Cohen fronting the Walkmen, if they were on Quaaludes." I mean this in a complimentary manner, I assure you. So The National are proof that sometimes you have to take a second chance with some things. However, I should also mention that the Arcade Fire still blows.

I think the best song to get people into the band is "Mr. November", which is about as the band comes to "rocking out"; plus it features the immortal chorus "I won't fuck us over, I'm Mr. November." However, the above video is a solid choice, showing how sometimes we just have to rock out in our apartments every once in a while.

Make up something to believe in your heart of hearts
so you have something to wear on your sleeve of sleeves...

Prepare Your Bunkers: The Saints Are In The Super Bowl

There are some things that you can count on, year in and year out. The swallows will return to Capistrano, the Saints will lose, etc. These are constants that we can rely on in an ever-evolving world [cue Steve Jobsian-style presentation].

At least that was the case until yesterday.

I am still in disbelief, and I don't think I'll truly comprehend it even on February 7th. To many, the Saints are a bunch of lovable losers, nothing out of the ordinary, like the Cubs or the pre-2004 Red Sox. What these people don't understand is just HOW the Saints would lose. It was always in the most heart-breaking fashion possible.

First, let's establish the bona fides of the Saints as losers. This is a team, that despite being in the league since 1967, had never won a playoff game until 2001. This was a team that a book about their first 25 years was entitled "Heroic Effort"--if that isn't putting a shine on a turd, I don't know what would be. And of course, Saints fans were the first to start the practice of wearing bags over their heads.

So, they've lost a lot. But not only do they lose, they do it in a way that's worse than a kick to the gut. For instance, last year in a game against the Minnesota Vikings (yes, those Vikings), the Saints wasted not one, but TWO punt return touchdowns from Reggie Bush to lose the game in the last minute after a gimme field goal was blocked. That's just one game, but guess how many games it would have taken for the Saints to make the playoffs last year? That's right, one.

Or let's put it another way. If you could pick one team to do this, who would it be: last play of the game, 75 yards to go; short pass, nearly tackled...lateral...lateral...lateral...holy fuck, TOUCHDOWN! If the Saints win, they're going to the playoffs, and holy shit, they're going to do it! Now John Carney just has to kick the extra point to tie it up and...



If there ever was a play that described a franchise, it was that play. As the Saints ran off 13 straight wins to start the year, all I could think was "the last time the Saints were 5-0, they missed the playoffs. There's only bigger heartache awaiting me." And then the team finished the regular season on a three-game losing streak, torpedoing their momentum right before the playoffs. So you can forgive me for watching the entire second half yesterday with my head in my hands, wondering how the Saints were going to blow it once again.

But I didn't count on Bret Favre's bad mojo outcrapping the Saints bad mojo. And that made all the difference in the world. Inevitable dread turned into unabashed joy. And it was glorious.

So the unthinkable has happened. The Saints are in the Super Bowl. Prepare accordingly, for the apocalypse awaits.

Was WDR on Team Coco?

You bet your sweet ass and half-a-titty.

But all the WDR support in the world wasn't enough to keep Conan on as host of the Tonight Show. Sure, Conan got the ol' Oklahoma Screwjob from Jeffrey Zucker, Dick Ebersol, and the rest of the nitwits from NBC, but we have to admit, wasn't it strange for Conan to be the host in the first place? His best humor always had a weird absurdist bent to it, and I'm not entirely sure that plays that well to Maude from Des Moines.

We have to face it, the odds weren't good for Conan to succeed. His biggest weakness has always been his monologue, and at 12:35 we could wait the 7 minutes before he got to one of his great skits. At the earlier hour though, people are tuning in specifically for that monologue, and if it isn't hitting, Letterman's just a few channels away. And then it's tough to play catch-up. It also didn't help that he had the Human Jinx Andy Richter sign on to play the Ed McMahon role (and I say this as a huge fan of both Controls the Universe and Andy Barker, P.I.).

And so it was never meant to be. And while Conan was justifiably angry about the whole situation, and while it was quite funny to see a man lash out at his incompetent bosses, part of me felt some sadness that Conan didn't take the high road. However, in his last episode, he did just that. His speech about the emptiness of cynicism will be remembered for some time, and it was good to see Conan show his class. And that segued into one of the greatest random performances of Lynyrd Skynyrd ever:

Conan Says Goodbye with Will Ferrell & Freebird - watch more funny videos

Yes, I watched the final episode the day after it aired and am aware of the irony, but it's only because I don't have a TV. But I'm but one example of many in his audience that surely did the same thing. Conan was doomed to fail, but at least he got his moment.

Hump Day Helper: Spoon Is Still Cool

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.


As mentioned in the previous post, Spoon's new album Transference came out this week. It's an interesting mix of their early days, abandoning the neo-Motown soul and pop hooks of their recent work. Instead, the band mixes the rough, fiery guitar of A Series of Sneaks and the icy atmosphere of arguably their best work, Girls Can Tell. The album doesn't immediately grab you, but repeated listenings show that the band is continuing on an unbelievable hot streak.

We went back a bit for the video, grabbing "You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb" from the last album. It's the perfect mix for the Helper--you've got your upbeat pop, all masking a message of goddammit, the fire is out in our relationship. But don't let that stop you from enjoying it.

After you're done having fun with that, take a listen to the catchiest song from the new album, "Trouble Comes Runnin'". I'm picking up what they're putting down.

Life can be so fair, let it go on and on...

List-O-Mania!

This past year saw not only your usual end-of-the-year countdowns, which we're totally cool with, but also your end-of-the-decade lists, which we're also totally cool with. RollingStone had their Best Albums and Best Singes of the Decade lists, and the AVClub had a month devoted to Decade's Best compendiums. You may ask yourself, "Where are WDR's lists?" Well, they're not here right now, but we have a great explanation: we can count. That's because decades start with the year "1", dumbasses.



HOWEVA, that doesn't mean we aren't going to do any lists; no, we're actually going to be doing three huge lists throughout the year. In addition to doing a rundown of what was worthwhile in 2009 (expect that some time in March), we're going to be doing Best Albums of the '80s, '90s, and '00s. What's the breakdown for the list? Glad you asked:

End of February, we'll give you a list of the Best 50 Albums of the '80s. Why only 50? Because the '80s blew, that's why

End of August, we'll give you the Best 100 Albums of the '90s. The toughest part will be how I justify putting six Pearl Jam albums on that list.

And at the end of December, and maybe into January we'll do the Best 100 Albums of the '00s. I've already got a number one in mind, but that list is sure to undergo several revisions before we post it.

I also want to mention that each member of WDR is going to have their own list, and each member is going to go off for as long as they want on each album. If I just want to say one sentence about License to Ill, that's fine; if I end up writing a thesis on The Decline of British Sea Power, well that's just more reading for you to skip over. No rules. In addition, random other lists will make appearances, including "Best Artists Absent from the List", etc. etc. It's going to be good times.


And since the year 2000 goes back to the '90s, we're going to have some interesting decisions to make, and our lists will look a lot different than you're used to--I mean, we're going to have Kid A competing with OK Computer. And don't think we're going to skip out on 2010 in our best of this decade list--just look at the 2000 albums that are going to make the '90s list: Relationship of Command, Moon and Antarctica, and R, among others. Plus, 2010's shaping up to be a great year--we're looking forward to new albums from The National, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, New Pornographers, and The Thermals among others. Just this week we saw the release of the latest great album from Spoon, which means we'll probably be seeing 5 albums from them on the top 100.

Get ready to waste your time.

Hump Day Helper: Douchebag Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.


I can think of a million reasons to hate Vampire Weekend. They look like the SAE douchebags that I would encounter on a daily basis. Their music is ridiculously twee and hipster-riffic. These fuckers probably wear boat shoes.

Yet I enjoyed the hell out of their debut album. It was perfect summer music, and their new album, Contra, is probably more of the same. That said, for some reason their label thinks it's a great idea to release their record in the middle of the fucking winter, even though it's a band that I haven't listened to since August. And people wonder why the record industry is failing.

This is their latest single, "Cousins." To tell you the truth, I absolutely hated this song the first time I heard it, but I've grown to appreciate its idiosyncrasies, from the driving snare roll to the stupid tremolo picked guitar lines. It also helps that they made a nifty little video, with some great scenes, especailly one verse where they act out the lyrics.

Caught in the melody
You wait in the car
You were born with ten fingers and you're gonna use them all...

WDR Attempts To Conquer All Media

We here at WDR are at a crossroads*. If you look at our output over the course of our three year existence, you'll notice a downward trend in the number of our posts. We've provided a helpful graph so you can better understand.



Now you may assume that there has been an increase in the quality of our posts, since we have to pack all our good...shit into fewer posts. This would be an incredibly stupid assumption--the only reason our posts are limited are because we've become even fatter and lazier than we already were. Seriously, I can't even comprehend why you would even think that, even if you had the best of intentions. Any particular article that you may have liked better from our recent output is just pure dumb luck. Frankly, you make me sick**.

Now we could be like most of Corporate America and blame our decrease in productivity on the economy. This has been what our parent company, Generica, has been pushing. But that would be a damn lie, and we have never used this space to lie to you, the reader***. And actually, we had several posts that were ready for print, but our intern Rasheed lost them at some point. Our new intern, Ho Tran, will be doing some work to help recover those posts, and hopefully they'll be published at some point, but I wouldn't hold my breath (Ho Tran makes Rasheed look like a goddamn genius).

Instead, we've decided to come through with one of our trademark empty promises. We're going to post more this year. It's not like my grades are going to go down any more if I spend more time writing. So at least you'll have more stuff from the Ouzo man. Zhuang-o will do his usual work, so no big change there. And we've currently hired a bounty hunter to track down Joe Reefer, and given said bounty hunter free reign to do what he can to convince Joe to once again write.

Meanwhile, in an attempt at overcompensation, WDR is expanding into a new medium! That's right, we can't even maintain a presence in one, but fuck it, let's try something else! Generica was telling us all about "social media" and to tell you the truth, we were a little drunk at that staff meeting, but they created a Twitter account for the site! Twitter really is bullshit, but hey, if you want WDR's quick take on something, just check it out--of course, we only have one tweet up there now, but the point is WE HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO DO SO MUCH MORE. So follow us at twitter.com/thewaynediego, because some asshole took the name "WayneDiego". And hey, each of us has our own twitter page as well (@NicOuzo, @manadajigity, and @djcozmik). Do with that information what you will; if that response is to spam the hell out of us, why not.



*Though only of the metaphorical variety. As far as we know, the internet is not a literal superhighway, but only one of those informational kinds of superhighways

**But I make music.

***Except for the many times that we have lied to you. I don't know what to tell you, but you did sign those release forms, so haha, nothing you can do.

And we approach the New Year ...

WDR New Year's VIDEO Extravaganza!



Yes, it's that time again: Time to get drunk and stay up late WITH A PURPOSE! Then there's the next few weeks of writing the wrong date on your checks and feeling a little bit older. (Wait, I was in high school ten years ago?!)

There's also the tradition (for some) of making New Year's resolutions. I have not done this, mostly because no one keeps their resolutions, anyway. Also, why should you only make resolutions to change your life ONLY on New Year's. Why not do this when it seems best to do so? I've never really understood this. I guess that's why I picked the song above for New Year's. I think we can all agree that this is a great song. Also, I love the bottle that Eddie wields at the beginning of this video. I like the cut of his jib, that guy.

This New Year's, though, I think that the WDR crew should make a resolution to make more posts here. This year we had a considerable amount fewer posts than in previous years, so we should try to make up for it. Also, as the only member of the group who will not be at the WDR End of Year Extravaganza at Casa de Ouzo, I thought I might as well post something about New Year's here. Get drunk and kill a pinata, guys!

Also, I say, why not have a special video section for the New Year? Glad you agree. So here are some videos that have something to do with the past year. Hope you enjoy the list



Best Christopher Walken Moment



This video got Lady Gaga stuck in my head for days, but it was still worth it.



Best Song Clip Without Music

David Lee Roth Vocal Track, "Runnin' With The Devil" - watch more funny videos

OK, so this isn't a song from the last year, but I heard this in 2009. Not a lot to see video-wise, but the audio is fantastic. David Lee Roth is hilarious.

On a side note, I had a dream recently that my parents moved into a new house and David Lee Roth was our neighbor. Some film crew was over at his house and he was doing some sort of "Cribs"-esque show for his house. My cat runs into his yard and he starts telling the film crew that the cat is his. This was bullshit and I confronted Roth about it and he just wanted me to "play it cool" and let him pretend that the cat was his. The argument continued until I woke up. I have no idea what that dream meant.


The Best Video You'll See of a Guy Getting Hit in the Face With a Cookie Sheet

I actually took this from Deadspin's 2009 coverage, but it makes me laugh every time. The Backstory: The editor of Deadspin.com bet the founder that the Philadelphia Eagles would beat the Arizona Cardinals last season. He lost, and one of the things he had to do was take a cookie sheet to the face. I've added a link here because I couldn't find the thing on YouTube. Enjoy.


The Best Frank Moment from "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia"




The picture goes in reverse for the second section of this, but that doesn't really matter. Frank is "The Trash Man"! The part of him at the beginning of the clip is great, too.

The Best Drunken History



All of these are good and I hope they make more of them. The idea is simple: Get someone drunk and have them explain a historical event. Then, have some actors act it out. My favorite was Alexander Hamilton, but they are all fantastic.

And that's the little bit of effort I'm going to put into something today that doesn't involve drinking. So happy New Year's to all of you out there. Drink, but don't drive, lest you get fucked by the police.(If college bowl week has taught me anything, it's that.) Also, in case you didn't know, the Manhattan Bridge in New York opened 100 years ago today. So ... that's cause for celebration too, right? Me, I'm going to start off the New Year hung over and watching the Rose Bowl. Go Ducks!

Hump Day Helper--Mr. Festive Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.


People love to bitch about holiday music, but frankly I've never had that much of a problem with it. Granted, I do my part to avoid maximum exposure--I avoid working (thank god for grad school!), plus when I go to the grocery store I usually listen to my iPod. This leaves only my weekly dinner at the sushi restaurant where I can potentially get that shot of holiday cheer. Then again, Christmas music sometimes proves to be a better alternative than the usual Japanese covers of Mariah Carey songs.

Of course, it doesn't help that there are few new cool Christmas songs each year. But leave it to the guys from My Morning Jacket to fill the void. Hell, this track wasn't even a special holiday single, but one of the tracks from their album At Dawn. And because of that, we get a song that actually tries to be decent.

Here's the OKONOKOS live version, courtesy of some charitable soul who's decided to upload the entirety of the DVD onto YouTube. Enjoy the soaring guitar riffs the way it was meant to be enjoyed. God bless you, "maiconfire".

We're criminals that never break the law!

Monkey Gone To Heaven

Since the beginning of time man has yearned to destroy the sun...and explore the cosmos I guess. You combine that with politicians who love to rally people behind pointless crap, and you get things such as the great Space Race. Of course, landing on the moon is how we avenged Kennedy's death and ended the Cold War in 1969, so there may be something to said for space travel.

Now we need to prepare ourselves for Space Race 2: The Race for Mars (the subtitle "Return of Jafar" didn't do well in the focus groups). We all remember Dubya making some proclamation that we're going to make it to Mars some time in the distant near future, and now it looks like the Russians are responding. They just recently announced that they're going to be attempting a precursor to a manned mission, and sending a monkey to the red planet. Big whoop, right? I thought so as well, until I read the last paragraph.

The Institute said a robot would accompany the first primate to Mars to feed and look after the ape.

Mr Mikvabia said: "The robot will feed the monkey, will clean up after it. Our task will be to teach the monkey to co-operate with the robot."

I smell a sitcom!

WDR's New Look!

OMFGZ!

The Wayne Diego Report has a new look! We even have a picture of Mr. Diego himself gracing the blog! What fun!

Do you like it? Think it sucks? Don't know why you're here? Are you looking for Ronnie Coleman pictures and/or tentacle rape porn? Whatever the case may be, leave a comment to let us know what you think!

New York I Love You But You're Creeping Me Out

Living in New York City, Part I.

I've now been living in New York for two months. In that time I've learned a few things about the city. Here are a few of my observations:


Cab drivers are insane. It really shouldn't come as a surprise, but cab drivers, in general, are fucking nuts. I guess I could say this about driver in general, but since most of the cars on the road here are cabs, so, that's that. The first time I was in a cab here I was pretty sure that I would die in that cab. And yet I have never seen any accidents here. Insanity, I say.

There are pizza places EVERYWHERE. Just for shits, go to google maps and search "pizza places new york, ny" and look at the results. And that's just what Google shows you initially. There's a pizza place somewhere in the building I work in and there are five more within a block of it. I've almost gotten tired of pizza. Almost.

Everything is more expensive here. Everyone knows that it is expensive to live in New York, but even the Top Ramen costs more here than I'm used to. Fucking RAMEN.

Pigeons. I've never been in a place where there were this many damn pigeons. I knew the name "rats with wings" and I've come to the conclusion that this is really an insult to rats. I see plenty of both, but I've never had a rat pester me or try to fly into my face. Rats tend to keep to themselves and scurry around the subways. I'm cool with the rats but FUCK PIGEONS.

There are celebrities here. Now, I've only seen one celebrity on the street ("Hornburger!") but I understand that there are more. They probably just don't frequent the same places I do, like "Little Poland" and NoHo.


The tree at Rockefeller Center is not nearly as big as it seems on TV. At least not this year. Biggest disappointment.


There IS decent beer out here. It doesn't compare to Oregon, but there is some pretty good stuff out here. Best IPA I've had since I got out here is a beer out of Chicago called "Goose Island." I recommend it.

And that's all for now. Next time I'll delve into other sides of New York: Living in a warehouse, secret sex parties (see Eyes Wide Shut) and VIP shindigs.

WDR comes back for Christmas cheer!

Hip hip, HOORAY!

So I was sitting in the office at work and the radio was on. Usually this means that the alternative rock station is on and there's something decent and the artists are always changing. It boasts being the only "new rock" station in town, though I can count on my hand the truly "new" songs I've heard on this thing. But that's not a problem.

Anyway, the day is going normally. The station starts playing "Blood Sugar Sex Magik" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers and my boss FUCKING CHANGES THE STATION. And not to something good. No. She changed it to Z100.

Now, I haven't heard an extended amount of Z100 programming for quite some time. I forgot that Z100 doesn't really play more than 30 songs. By 30 I'm being generous. In two hours I heard three songs twice. Note that this also included commercials. I've never been good at math, but the fact that songs repeated that much was insane. I heard the same damn Lady GaGa song FIVE FUCKING TIMES. And that was when I left work early.

As I'm new to the office, I was not one to start shouting profanities when this happened. But fucking hell, Z100 is damn awful. On the other hand, I managed to get a ton of work done because I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Temporary productivity at the price of sanity? My guess is that there are more interns where I came from. Maybe it's all part of the plan.

But now I'm out of the office until January, so maybe, JUST MAYBE, there will be some more posts here. Maybe? I know that Joe and Nic are on vacation, so they might even post something, too. That would be nice wouldn't it? Yes it would.

Watch out New York ...

Oh shit ...

The weight of WDR has shifted from West to East as I, Mr. Zhuang, have now moved to New York. With the aid of Nic Ouzo, I will be able to take the city by storm. Or, maybe just get really drunk. Which will be fun, too.

What does that mean for you, the reader? Well, it means that there will probably be a bit more of an East Coast bias in our blog and most updates we put on here will be East Coast time. In case that went over your head, nothing is going to change.

You may return from the edge of your seat.

Remember, remember, the first post of September!

OK, so we seriously haven't posted this month. It's already halfway through the month and we have posted nothing until now.

I guess it's my fault as much as anyone else's fault. But for whatever reason I'm compelled to put something in this "Blogosphere" despite having nothing, really, to say. Perhaps that the reason why so many people write blogs and why so few are actually read.

I could have been writing here, but instead I've focused my energies elsewhere. For writing, I've gone into the masturbatory "I'm going to write a great American novel" trip, hoping to write something insightful and funny that will inspire people to think. Or maybe just write something I'd enjoy reading myself. Which is a difficult task when much of what you write you find later and and think, "Good gravy, this is awful!"

I recently made such a discovery in my room of a box of papers from middle school and high school. There were several things I'd written and thought were incredibly brilliant and funny that, looking back, I want to punch the kid who wrote it. So many awful "I'm above the rest of stupid humanity" crap written by what appears to be some sort of damaged, narcissistic ape. Was that who I was then? It probably was, though I must not have seen myself this way. But the big question that remains is: Will I feel the same way 10 years from now about the way I am today?

I hope not. Not because I fear contempt toward myself, but rather because I hope that I am not nearly as stupid as I was. Or as I see myself having been. And I suppose that it is here, not in a box locked away for years in my closet, that I will rediscover the me of my early 20s and my inane ramblings. And perhaps I'm not alone. Perhaps other bloggers will find themselves doing the same thing around the same time and thinking, "Wow, I was really stupid."

But, it's like that whole "hindsight is 20/20" bit, which I'm not sure I entirely agree with. There's so much that we forget, or simply regard as irrelevant, that shapes the way we were as opposed to the way we are. Maybe there was something more to so many of the chicken scratched notebook pages I've found buried. But whatever they may have been, they are forgotten, or blocked off by my brain, and it all looks like violent screams of nothing more insightful than the screams against healthcare at town hall meetings.

That last part just sank in. That's a little disturbing.



This posted really started without a definite point, though I did write the headline first and it seems to have grown into it in some slightly perverse way. We'll see when (and if) I remember making this post 10 years from now and I'll see if I still agree with myself or if I regard this as the hopeless ramblings of an idiot.

My guess is it will probably be a mix.

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Vienna

Alright, we're about to wind down the crazy European Adventure, and what better place to do it than the Original Seattle. That's right, I'm talking about Vienna, home to the world's greatest classical musicians. The city was home at one point or another to Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, among many others--the Mudhoney, Nirvana, and Pearl Jam of their day, respectively. As a student and lover of music, I of course made a pilgrimage to each of their homes, and took many pictures of old sheet music and harpsichords. You know, the kind of stuff we need to drive up web traffic here at WDR. That's the ticket!

Now back to the beginning. I got to Vienna after a scheduled 16 hour train trip turned into a 21 hour slog. That shouldn't be too much of a big deal--I would only be missing breakfast, though some vital museum-visiting time as well--but some point within the last ten years they've decided to do away with actual dining cars on these trains. Instead, you have a dude who periodically opens a chest filled with the barest of snacks. As a result, I was blessed with a breakfast of champions that morning--a small loaf of bread and a Beck's. This can only bode well.

Once again, when I entered the city I did my routine of finding a tourist map and planning a route to hit as many sites as possible within the day. If you want to know how to lose twenty-five pounds over a summer, I recommend touring the capitals of Europe in just such a manner, with minimal stops for hot dogs and beer. As a fan of architecture and just plain old not-standing-around, this is really the best way to go about sight-seeing. And Vienna was perfect for this--wonderful cathedrals, various arts buildings, and numerous museums all held me in rapt attention. All this, and the beautiful Blue Danube as well.



Of course, when you keep walking, you sometimes end up having to return at some point. As I attempted to make my way to the Viennese version of the Copa Cabana, I ended getting up lost in what could pass as the ghetto of Vienna. As darkness descended, a quick "fuck that" order was issued and I made my way to the subway station. The only problem was that the map at this subway station was completely indecipherable to an outsider, and I had no idea which route would go in the right direction. This led to me hiring a taxi, which was fine enough--you get to see different parts of the city this way that you can't see just by walking--but also led to another chance to rip Nic off, as the driver feigned having trouble with the credit card sliding mechanism, and giving himself a fat 40% tip.


I returned late at night to my hostel, a place I heartily recommend (in fact, my co-worker ended up going to the same hostel the next night, and had the same rave review I had). I then decided to explore further this more "urban" neighborhood, and quickly realized that I was basically in the Viennese version of the Red Light District. At first I thought those two skimpily attired women were just being friendly, but my suspicions were immediately raised when I walked by the "club" they stood outside of and saw the logo which featured a very naked lady. I then proceeded to take a better view of my surroundings and saw that indeed there were many strip clubs and the like in this area. The best part were some of the names--apparently this is what they think of when they see the word "Manhattan", or that naming your club "Okay" implies that the women are anything but. It wasn't just these blatant displays--I also walked by a coffeehouse with an "upstairs" and what were clearly women of the night going down the stairs. Oh yeah, then there were the two ladies dressed in bra and panties standing on the corner. I think that was the last subtle hint I needed.

But all this talk of Red Light this and Hooker that sells short how beautiful and interesting the city of Vienna is. As I mentioned, there is some absolutely stunning architecture, from the Volkstheater to the different palaces to the giant Ferris Wheel, the Prater. Also, Vienna is home to a lot of weirdness with which the denizens of the Pacific Northwest are certainly familiar--we wouldn't bat an eye at a sticker proclaiming "Space Invaders Against Sexism" for example. Combine this with museums like the Albertina which houses some fascinating Modern Art, and you have a true city of the arts. Vienna has a very unique identity, and is definitely worth a visit.


And so ends the massive recap of the big trip. I hope I didn't make you just envious of me, but instead provided some fun stories and some insight into unfamiliar areas. But of course, knowing me, I probably failed in all regards. Well, tough shit, that's all you're going to get from me.

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Prague

After a week of total relaxation, it was once again back to the sight-seeing grind. Next was a trip that I had been dreaming about for years, a journey into the heart of Eastern Europe and into Prague. Now, I don't really know anything about Prague, either than it was the home of a number of artists and scientists and so on, including one of my favorite authors, Franz Kafka. I didn't even really know about any of the tourist attractions in the city--I had only in passing heard about the Charles Bridge or the famous Astrological Clock. But I knew I still wanted to have a visit to a city that had charmed so many of Europe's intelligentsia.

I could sit and tell you how Prague was a fascinating mixture of East and West, where you had your more or less typical European capital feel in the city contrasted with the spare utilitarian train that takes you into town, but I'm sure you don't give a shit. I could also mention that the many sights were indeed spectacular; including the above, you had numerous sculptures throughout the city, the hanging gardens, the peacocks in the Senate courtyard, and even the vintage cars that you could take on tours of the area. Again, something you could find in a guidebook. I could also tell how the countryside was a beautiful rolling green hillside, practically unspoiled by development and dotted with intriguing old villages, but fuck, this is Europe, that shit is everywhere. Instead I'll present two little vignettes that should prove entertaining.


One of the cooler sites in Prague is the Communist Museum, which goes over in great detail what life was like in Czechoslovakia during the time of the Soviet occupation. Now I understand that life under that regime was very difficult, and indeed I understand that people would want to distance themselves as far as possible from the horrors of that rule and would embrace the West with great fervor. That being said, there were many parts of the museum that either gave a chuckle in terms of the propaganda or just a snicker at the irony on display. These ranged from the cheap shots at Marx in his biography to the fact that the Museum was situated across the plaza from a McDonald's and next door to a casino. But there were two displays that were especially hilarious: the first one was an exhibit which bemoaned how Marxism focused so much on industry and manufacturing, to the detriment of the economy--of course now as the United States attempts to make its way out of the recession, many point to our shipping of manufacturing jobs overseas as an important cause; the second was a different exhibit which gave a view of the dastardly interrogation processes used by the Soviets that violated all sense of due process, in stark contrast to the fair methods used by the West--tragically hilarious, considering the news we hear each day of America's post 9/11 behavior.


The other experience I want to mention is my trip to the go-kart track. Yes, I traveled halfway around the world into one of the jewels of Europe and spent my Sunday afternoon at a go-kart track--if you thought I would do otherwise, you clearly don't know me. This is a guy who will drive 45 minutes away just so he can race his friends on such a track; believe me, the irony of using a real car to go drive a fake one is not lost on me. But we were told that this track was either the biggest or the fastest in Europe, and while I wouldn't argue either of those points, I'd add that it probably was also the "HOLY FUCK I'M GOING TO DIE AS MY LEG IS CRUSHED INTO KART"-iest of all the tracks in Europe.

Now I don't know why I would be surprised about the obviously lax safety standards of an Eastern European Go-Kart track; I've experienced terrifying carnival rides put together by degenerate drunks and would rank them only slightly higher on the trust scale. But that's nothing compared to hurtling yourself at 40 mph in giant steel deathtraps (complete with holes to get your foot stuck and pointy pieces galore), smelling of pure gasoline as you navigate the tightest fucking hairpin curves as some Czech punk kid careens past you without touching the brake. I think the race was restricted to only 5 minutes, but those were among the five longest minutes of my life. It didn't help that afterward I had to spend another few minutes dislodging my Strongbad-type helmet from my virtual planetoid of a cranium.



In other words, Prague was a blast.

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Visiting the Motherland

The next weekend I decided to quit the whole sight-seeing deal, and get down to brass-tacks. Time to update the agenda and readjust priorities so we can concentrate on what's really important: relaxing. And what better place to do that than the beautiful beaches of Greece?


For this weekend I took a plane with some co-workers down to our beachhouse in Halkidiki, where we relaxed and had ourselves a loooong weekend (Thank you, vacation days!). We met up with my mom, who proceeded to play the role of the entertaining host, charming my fellow travelers the whole time. We spent our days relaxing at the beach or traveling up and down the coasts and taking in the beautiful scenery, and then went out at night to indulge in fresh fish and other fine Greek cuisine. You just can't beat a weekend like that.


It was during this weekend I began to ruminate some serious philosophical shit, as the kids say, and compare American versus Greek attitudes toward work. Which is better--working like a dog to achieve modest productivity gains and maybe getting a bigger tv, or working enough during the week and then piling into a car and driving to the beach to enjoy the weekend? I'm beginning to lean toward the latter. It was then that I realized that I already had what people spend their life working for (Thanks Dad!). Makes the rat race seem all the more pointless, and my decision to not engage in Early Interview Week shenanigans all the wiser.

Now sit back and enjoy the pictures.

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Berlin With Ze Germans

Berlin marked a new traveling experience for me. Instead of going with a compadre, this trip was done totally solo. A frightening proposition, considering I had to confront multiple train switches and otherwise navigate myself around a town without knowing more than three words of German (well, beyond the essentials of "beer," "sausage," and "sauerkraut."). Hell, even the train station was imposing--the Hauptbahnhof is fancier than most airports. In other words, there was a strong chance that shit was about to get real.

However, nothing of the sort really occurred. Despite initial confusion in determining which U-Train to take into town, and where the hell my map faced in the middle of Kreuzberg, there would be no snags on this trip. In fact, once I found a tourist map I was able to hit the road and take a walk around the entire center of Berlin. This is key, since all the major tourist sights are in the center of the city (Sorry Dahlem Museum, you get the shaft!). In a day I was able to see Checkpoint Charlie, the Reichstag, Brandenburg Gate, the Siegessäule, and the great Cathedral, all within a few hours of brisk walking.


Did I mention that I came during the Gay Pride Festival?

Yeah, my timing made half of my walking tour a journey into fantastic debauchery, with drinking in the streets and what we will call "tomfoolery" of a sort in various floats, all resulting in a trashing of the Brandenburg plaza that rivals my previous experience at Mardi Gras. I experienced a tradeoff--while it made the trip more interesting (and provided a great story), it also meant I had a great slog to go through the throngs of trannies in half of my tour. However, I did my fair share of drinking and dancing in the streets, participating in a dance circle of some anarchists (oh anarchists, when will your contradictions ever not be funny?).


Perhaps the most impressive thing was how open the Germans were with their past.
There was no effort to conceal their participation in some of the greatest atrocities of the previous century--no, they instead took steps to confront their actions. On the guided tour I took the next day they pointed out many infamous sites from WWII, and outside one of the train stations I found a heartbreaking statue dedicated to the victims of the Holocaust. Let's just say other countries could take heart from these lessons.

Overall, Berlin was probably my favorite city to visit. It wasn't just the beautiful architecture, the clean air, and the mix of urban and pastoral that did it for me. There was just something in the air that made it seem like a pleasant city in which to stay, and if that wasn't good enough, there was always something to do late at night. It also was interesting to visit the different sections of the city, like say comparing the immigrant area of Kreuzberg with the Mitte District. While I got a good feel for the town over a weekend, I'd probably enjoy a much longer stay in the area. Oh yeah, and it's way cheaper than the Netherlands.

Word to the Wise--get your cash at the train station. I walked for miles and miles around Berlin without spotting anything that looked like an ATM. They're all hidden in banks, and it's tough to decipher what the hell is a bank. See, come to WDR for the Ronnie Colman breakfast, and stay for the useful travel tips.

Hump Day Helper -- Return of the Shaq Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.

It's summer, which means total shit on TV. Everything has to suck unless...wait, Shaq has a new television show? And it just involves him competing with other random athletes? Sign me up!

Last night was the premiere of "Shaq Vs.", and it was actually a very entertaining show. The first episode had Shaq competing against Ben Roethlisberger, and had several highlights--Shaq being able to hit the crossbar from over thirty yards out on his first try, Shaq throwing a perfect fade route, Shaq returning an interception for a touchdown. Plus, Shaq is always just a good time, and it was on full display in his banter with Roethlisberger.

So we honor the man with his first foray into the world of entertainment--yes, that means we have a video of Shaq rapping. It's almost as good as the one video of him saving Mike the Tiger--unfortunately YouTube has pulled that video, so you'll have to settle for this. I'd also like to take the time to thank Joe Reefer for giving me the complete discography of Shaq--my iTunes appreciates it.

I get dirty after dark I'll treat like Speilberg
you get your ass kicked in the park...

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Copenhagen

The next stop was my first venture into Scandinavia. We took what can only be described as an epic train ride from Den Haag into Copenhagen, using our fancy-pants Eurail passes. This time we paid a bit extra on the way in by taking a night train and paying for some beds. This was totally worth the extra 30 euros--It's not the most comfortable sleep in the world, especially when you have a paranoia of missing your stop (even if it's the final destination), but it sure beats the alternative (staring straight into the seat in front of you--you know, like an airplane). It also would mark an interesting hostel experience--Ireland had been my first experience in one, but here we had the treat of sleeping in a giant 64-bed room. This was surprisingly not as crazy as it sounds, since we had small private areas marked off by cubicles. Who knew the Danes would be influenced so much by Dilbert?


We arrived into town with little to no idea of what sights we should see. I remembered vaguely The Little Mermaid statue and some Hans Christian Andersen shit, but that wasn't going to fill a weekend. I then remembered that there was a really old amusement park (yeah!) and some castles, including the one that belonged to "Hamlet". Too bad we didn't visit those last two (too pricey and too not-in-the-city, respectively).

We ended up grabbing a map and just walking the entirety of the center of the city, walking from garden to garden and so on. Not ten minutes after we set out did we get confronted with a flash-rain storm, which made our decision to leave our umbrellas behind seem altogether foolish. Nevertheless, we braved the elements and persevered, determined to see nature and all that. One of the gardens had an interesting bachelorette party featuring an event that would make Freud blush. Oh, and there was a puppet show and a castle too!

We then kept up our trek and found a fort THAT IS STILL IN USE by the Danish navy. Honestly, I have no idea who the Danes are so fearful of--I'm not sure Norway's going to fight for Greenland all over again, at least not via submarine. There we met up with many ducks who apparently emigrated from Oregon, and they had some stories to tell. Too bad they were mainly about bread. But we also saw the Little Mermaid, which was you know, actually little. Interesting statue, nonetheless. Charmed.


We next went to one of the most unique aspects of Copenhagen, the anarchist commune known as Christania. As you might expect, "Sketch City" could have doubled as the name of this place. People seemed on edge, which is understandable considering the police presence that always hovers around nearby--one bar claimed to have been raided over 4000 times in 10 years. And what can one expect from an anarchist commune? Lots of pipes and graffiti everywhere. Good to see society might have a purpose.

We then proceeded to not get dinner, since everything in Copenhagen is absofuckingly ridiculously expensive. When New York prices seem reasonable in comparison, there's a problem. Besides, we were saving money to enjoy the nightlife, which is actually pretty good in the 'hagen. We then made another trek out into the center to visit a bar promising all-you-can-drink for ten euros. Once there though, we were confronted by the hard backhand of the dress code--apparently even though i was dressed in a nice button-down shirt and khakis, my solid-black sneakers were apparently a no-go for these folks. This led to a lengthy argument with my compatriot over the arbitrary nature of dress codes, which will certainly be rehashed at a later date in these here parts. However, despite that setback, we found a couple of good real-local-type places and enjoyed seeing the Danes let their freak flag fly and party down. We then proceeded to essentially crawl back to our hostel room and wind down before departing early the next morning.


Despite all setbacks, I recommend people visit the town, as long as there's money burning a hole in your pocket. There's some fantastic architecture and thousands of statues--a definite must if you love seeing dudes battle dragons and other mystical shit.

Nic's Wild European Adventure: London Towne

Next stop on the tour was a familiar spot--London (no "merry old England" crap from this guy, I'll tell you wha). I've been to the city many times before--my mom has a cousin that lives there, and we've often spent some time in her brownstone up in Archway. However, the last time I was there I was just entering high school, so this trip promised to be slightly different. Of course, considering that I spent most of my time the last time trying to figure out just how the hell you play cricket, that isn't saying too much (the verdict after three days of watching cricket: still no clue).


So yeah, I was now an adult let loose in London, as opposed to a sniveling teenager attached to his family. Wait, was I really sniveling? (Ed. note: Probably) That meant instead of the touristy stuff, it was mainly seeing different parts of the city--i.e., how people really lived. That meant visiting the sections of town that were full of immigrants and/or clubs. Each had its own merits.

The first part of our day out mainly consisted of visiting a large outdoor market near the center of London. As a guy, this didn't interest me much, but as a guy who was conditioned to shopping with ladies (many years spent doing so with the mom and the sister), this wasn't such a big deal. It did give me the chance to take a picture of a most hilariously racist t-shirt--one that claimed "Jim Crow" as some sort of fashion icon, with an actual crow, a la Joe Camel. Unfortunately, that photo was done on a compatriot's camera, and I have yet to receive it. So you just have to trust my word on that one.


Following the market, whose only other noteworthy characteristic was a decent selection of 45s and other LPs (and the shady area, with all the drug paraphernalia), we headed out to try to meet up with some guy who knew of this really great English pub. Unfortunately, the only result was *Clusterfuck*, because said guy lost his phone the night before. The end result was some time traveling around the part of London that's worse than Times Square (but home to Top Shop, ladies!), and then a ghastly busride back on a double-decker that lacked A/C.

But that night we all went out to the West End and had quite the party. I basically got my Eurotrash on and danced the night away, but also had to keep an eye out to play the part of bodyguard for the ladies in our party, a task that is ALWAYS enjoyable. Bah, don't listen, I had a great time.

And then the next day I spent 2 hours cramming in a bunch of sightseeing anyway, then took the train and flew out. Where I then proceeded to get pulled over by the Dutch police because they thought I was drunk-driving my bike. Memories abound!

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Bruges

If I grew up on a farm, and was retarded, Bruges might impress me but I didn't, so it doesn't.

One of the best and most hilarious movies to come out last year was a little film called In Bruges. It got some minor notice and some rave reviews, but for the most part people haven't really heard too much about it. Which is a damn shame. I mean, just reading the quotes page is enough for hours of entertainment.

So where did my co-worker and I decide to spend the second weekend? In one place that was skewered for ninety-something minutes as one of the most boring places on the planet, which was my only previous reference point. Did the city live up to its reputation? Yeah, if I had to spend the rest of my life there, sure. But for a quick weekend trip, Bruges definitely lives up to Harry's memories as an idyllic town.


So what's in Bruges? A bunch of really old churches, including one with "Christ's blood". We visited that one, but there was a service going on at the time, so it would have been kind of awkward to walk up to the altar and give the blood an old looksy. And there's the giant Belfry which played a part in the movie. It is indeed as narrow and hazardous to the fatty as the movie suggested, so the American should have heeded Ray's advice. He would have had a terrible time negotiating the narrow stairway, and he wouldn't even have to pull his co-workers giant duffel of weekend luggage up the whole way.

Even though the Belfry was quite the sight, the one in Bruges didn't match the one that I had found in Delft. I'm only bringing this up because I have an incredibly stupid story to tell about that place. The belfry in Delft was narrower and taller, and featured several points where I hit my head on low-hanging bar. Its exterior also was eight-hundred and fifty-seven times more fright inducing, considering the low waist bar that was the only protection from certain death on the narrow walkway. But I only bring the whole experience up because I saw some fresh graffiti in the stairwell from some Americans--"Bill '09 and Melissa '09", all luvy-duvy. I was prepared to add my own contribution--"My Balls '09", since they hit the same spot as I negotiated the previously-stated low-hanging bar. Damn shame I didn't have a pen on me.

Trust me, that was all much funnier in my head.


Bruges has also apparently earned itself the reputation as being the place for bachelor parties in Northern Europe. We came across several parties, including one that featured a traveling cycling kegmachine, which we attempted to join (once we finished our forties in the town square--no joke). For a sleepy-ass medieval village, the place sure had a lot of nice clubs to help out said folk. It's also home to a few bars that served hundreds of different beers. It's interesting that Belgium is now seen as the new hot place for beer, considering that Belgian-style ales are pretty weaksauce. However, we were able to sample a few great-tasting beers, even if one of them was the more feminine pineapple-flavored beer. But as my co-authors could attest, I still found a way to pull that one off.

Beyond that, there's not too much to say about Bruges. I did get my Eurotrash on, but that only leads too tears. I've also previously commented on how Flemish is a terrible, terrible language, so we've covered that. There was some weird chocolate, but hell, everyone already knows the Belgians are known for their chocolate--they invented it so the molesters could get to the children. So I'm just going to end this with just a plain inexplicable photograph, and hope you understand what the Venice of the North is all about.

Nic's Wild European Adventure: Ireland

Even though I'm back State-side, I never gave you readers the full rundown of what happened over in Euro-Land. While I did provide a great look into the day-to-day life of a stranger in a strange land (Dutchland), I didn't have a chance to go over all the trips that I took to different countries over each weekend. So, before my vacation ends, I'm going to spend this week running down the full list of destinations. And we're going to do two-a-day, to fully capture the Rules of Attraction style nature of the whole trip (we reference this movie way too much considering how bad the entire film was). First up, we have Ireland.


1. Guinness snobs are right. I spent my first weekend in Dublin, and it would seem to be a good omen for the rest of my time overseas. I had always wanted to visit, but even though I had been to the UK many times we were never able to make the short trip over. So I was excited to visit, even though I knew nothing of the sights to see. We saw an old college which has an old Bible, and a couple of random old churches. But I did know that they had one must-see destination: the Guinness Brewery.

The tour of the brewery itself was worthwhile, as we got a glimpse into the brewing process. However, the true highlight was the many pints of beer that we had on the premises. And I hate to confirm what I had heard before, but the beer really does taste better in Dublin than it does elsewhere--and I say that as a guy that enjoys his Guinness. We had our share of other pints, but we always came back to the Guinness.


2. Ireland can apparently be confused with the South of France. We chose the one great weekend in terms of weather to visit, as it was wonderfully sunny and a very pleasant 70 degrees the entire weekend. And as we toured the green countryside, we were able to take the most spectacular pictures. Ireland would seem to be known more for its rustic charm, but under the right light, it's just plain beautiful.

3. Who would think you could get barred from entering a club in Dublin for being too drunk? We ended up joining an international group of travelers in our nighttime Dublin experience, and we had a great time searching for cheap drinks and good times. In the center of the city it can be tough to find a good deal, as they're mostly cashing in on ignorant tourists, so it was a struggle. We did receive one setback when one bouncer would not let in our group because I and another compadre were said too bee "too drunk" to enter the club--strange, considering we hadn't had a drink for hours at that point. No matter--we just found a nice neighborhood pub and enjoyed a drink with the locals, and many friendships were made that day.

Bummer, Man.

As I prepare for Mr. Zhuang to join me in New Yawk, we began to make plans of the cool shit that we would do living in the city. Among the other things we discussed was going to Iridium to see the legendary Les Paul do a show, just like he does every Monday night. Unfortunately, we made our plans too late.


That's because Les Paul passed on this week. Granted, he was 94, so it was not totally unexpected. That doesn't mean it still doesn't suck.

I don't know much about the man's music, but the man was a legend. He invented the electric guitar AS YOU KNOW IT! He also did things like invent multi-track recording, so he basically invented music production AS YOU KNOW IT. Plus, he seemed like a genuinely good guy. I like the fact that many years later, he always asking Gibson to make his signature guitar more affordable. The Dude was cool.

Well, farewell Les. Keep it rockin' up there.