Of Spambots and Our Comments Section: A Quick Word

Some of you may have noticed our comments sections has seen some increased activity. However, it's not exactly a desired increase, considering that the majority of these comments have been some sort of terrible spam. Now, I have no idea what the benefit of having obvious spam fill up a blog's comment section is...but apparently some people think it's a good idea. I just fear that these spambots will one day rise up and turn into the Sentinels from The Matrix



As a result, we've had to delete a few comments. Rest assured, none of the comments deleted were made by real people, but were purely spam comments--we kind of believe in free speech around here. However, we have left some of the spam comments up, and you may wonder what our official policy is. It's pretty simple--if we think that the spam is hilarious or too ridiculous to even bother with, we're going to leave it up. Because we all need a laugh, and it's too bad that Spamusement has stopped updating.

WDR Recommends: A Little Light Reading

We understand that many of you shape your entire worldview by solely looking at this blog. This makes you more knowledgeable than 94.3% of Internet users, and for that, you deserve a pat on the back (WDR Courtesy Note: before forcibly taking your neighbor's hand and placing it on your backside, it is best if you ask for their permission, preferably in writing). However, we feel that your education would be slightly incomplete if you solely rely on us, so we're providing some interesting links that we've come across.


The Right Has No Clue What To Do. Paul Krugman offers up a column that states clearly what I've been saying in private for some time now--the Right knows how to capture a phrase, but never follows through on their promises. All this talk of "small government" was en vogue during the 90's when the Republicans came into power once again, but we saw greater spending and greater deficits--you know, just like Reagan. And we're seeing the rise of that rhetoric once again, and just as repeated history dictates, we're seeing no actual solutions from the Right. Spending cuts sound like a good idea, until you try to figure out what needs to be cut.

Labeling a "Terrorist" Glenn Greenwald provides a scathing critique of the unwillingness to label the "Tax Protester" a terrorist, despite fulfilling every qualification for the term--except for being a Muslim/Arab. This looks at our nonsensical application of the word, from those who target military targets but are Muslim ("Terrorist") versus those that kill civilians, but are white ("Separatist" or some other term). You would think that this is important, considering that if you are labelled a terrorist you can be shuttled off to Guantanamo and be deprived of basic due process, even if you're an American citizen.

Milk Inspires Poetry A product review for a gallon of milk sparks creativity in the minds of Amazon users. Also check out this product that other users bought.

Other People Learn of the Brilliance of "Lady Terminator" A look at Indonesian exploitation films, and finally we have a reason why Lady Terminator exists and is nearly indistinguishable from a porno.

WDR Recommends This week, we recommend renting Black Dynamite. This is an absolutely hilarious film that examines the Blaxploitation era in a whole new light, and will have you on the floor laughing as you repeat back lines like "Now Aunt Billy, how many times have I told you not to call here and interrupt my Kung Fu!"

Hump Day Helper: The Unknown Band 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.


Fresh off a post that talked about how much fun it is to discover new music, I've got a video here from a band that I discovered back when I was working in radio. One of those bands that nobody else probably knows about, but of course, that doesn't mean that they're not any good.

It's interesting what it can take to get a guy's attention at a radio station. Sometimes it's a creative press-pack, some insistence from a promoter, or even just a great band name that will do the trick. With these guys, I don't even think it was any of these--it was just luck. I popped in the CD, listened to the first track, and thought, "Hmm, we might have something here." And then this song appeared on my new music show for a month after that, and I made a copy of the album for my personal collection.

The video has a nice dreamy quality to it, which matches the soothing, hazy quality of the music. Not your normal uptempo Hump Day pick, but I think it'll do quite nicely. Just relax, and take it in, and don't get upset like some people if you haven't heard it before.


Hold your heart out, hold your hand out...

The Angry Flirt

Instead of the usual bar scene, this past Saturday night Mr. Zhuang and I decided to head over to a "house party" to celebrate Mardi Gras--only this house was a crowded apartment right in the middle of the East Village and overlooking Second Avenue. It's about as close as you'll see law students cutting loose in the middle of the semester, though one can argue celebrating "Mardi Gras" a week late is all the excuse you need to get future lawyers to get their drink on.


I came prepared for the festivities, proudly wearing my Saints sweatshirt which announced to all who looked upon it that I had actual ties to the holiday and knew a little something about the traditions. I even came prepared with beads of my own; Mr. Zhuang brought with him the baby that he had found from our King Cake and the plastic cup that came with the cake, ready to serve as the Taster for the "Hurricanes" that were being prepared. We had a great time, as I got to friends that I rarely get to see any more and Zhuang continued to serve as said Taster, and the night passed without major incident; all in all, a pretty decent Saturday night.

That being said, I wanted to call up an incident that is the inspiration for the title of this blog, and puts a spin on the usual "Nic Ouzo Frightens Women" story. At one point I was being introduced to a couple of ladies who were friends of one of my classmate, and we began talking. One of them noticed my Saints sweatshirt and asked about it, and I replied, yup, I was born in Baton Rouge and had been a Saints fan all my life, and yup, I was as excited as a pig on payday when they won the Super Bowl. At some point, one of them asked if I played for the Saints, and being a little confused, I said, no, not quite (I mean, I'm built like a linebacker, but one that would sit on the end of the bench). It was at this point I realized that perhaps this girl was a little unhinged and more than a little drunk, but here I was, in a crowded kitchen with little place else to go, I better make the best of the situation.

The conversation continued, but it was clear that some sort of tonal shift had occurred. At one point someone else came by and asked about my sweatshirt, and the woman who asked if I played for them shouted "No he doesn't care for them, he's a traitor!" Now, anyone who knows me realizes I cannot have my fanhood questioned, but they also know I am quite diplomatic, so I sidestep and talk to the person directly and straighten things out. But I am aware that I've entered into some strange zone here with this one girl, who continues to talk to me, oblivious to all awkwardness.


She then tells me that she graduated from the University of Texas--I said, hey, that's great, and you know what, my sister just got accepted there! It's her number one choice, but we'll see about the money that other schools offer. The girl then grabs my shoulder and begins to tell me that hey, I went there with no money, and I'll be paying it off--I'm working and getting only 30,000 a year and living in Manhattan, I CAN DO IT SO CAN SHE! SHE NEEDS TO GO TO UT! She is very insistent on this point, and sure as shit she will not take "no" for an answer. At this point I tell her, hey, I'm pushing for my sister to go to UT, because if she does, I'm going to crash at her place so I can come to South By Southwest, which is only one of the most awesome events to go to if you love music. Back when I was working in radio, I had the opportunity to have my expenses paid for on a trip and get passes to all the shows, but it didn't match up with my schedule, and I've always regretted passing up the opportunity. I was then informed by this girl that she hated this festival--"I can understand going to see a show for a band you know, but to see band you don't even know..." I then mention how I worked at a radio station, and it was my job to listen to new music and she interjected I DON'T UNDERSTAND. THAT'S JUST TERRIBLE! WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT? Needless to say, I kept smiling but not saying much after that.

Well, sucks to be you, lady who works in fashion for only 30,000 a year--I could have introduced you to Mr. Zhuang, who works for a fashion magazine. As it is...no dice.

Your Unasked For Blazer Report

It's been a strange season for Blazer fans, one where it doesn't matter who the opponent is, any night can bring a thrilling video or devastating defeat, or just a serious injury to one of our star players. The Blazers have never been a team that made it easy on their fans, so we shouldn't have expected it any other way. But this year certainly has been stranger than most.

This year we've seen the following players lose significant time to injury: Travis Outlaw (broken foot), Rudy Fernandez (bad back), Joel Przybilla (broken kneecap), Jeff Pendergraph (bad hip), Steve Blake (pneumonia), LaMarcus Aldridge (sprained ankle), Greg Oden (broken kneecap), and now our star Brandon Roy has missed a significant amount of time with a hamstring injury. I'm probably forgetting some people. Hell, even our coach tore his Achilles tendon in practice, and for good measure, our owner now has cancer. You would think that the injury curse would end with the whole cancer thing, but no, that was in December and we had several more injuries since then. Even after going through all that, the Blazers still are set for a playoff spot in the ultra-competitive Western Conference. I think any fan is thrilled with this, with the only drawback being that the bastards from Oklahoma City are ahead of the Blazers right now.


Things began to turn the night Greg Oden was injured. Mr. Zhuang and I were out having a nice relaxing drink, when I received a text from a friend telling me that not only was Oden injured, he was going to be out for the year. We must have looked like a car just ran over our dog, because the bartender notices our "someone shat in our cereal" look, and gives us free drinks when we tell him the news. Cynics and fans who don't pay attention may ask, "What did you expect, Oden is Mr. Glass?" but these are the same people who hadn't watched him develop over the past two seasons like we had. This year, Oden was making a leap and was showing flashes of becoming the dominant center that we had hoped for when we drafted him, commanding the middle and being the one consistent player we had in the beginning of the season, and then in an instant it was gone.

It was all the more painful when you consider how Oden and Portland are made for each other. They're each slightly goofy and more than a little awkward, and have great senses of humor (I mean, Oden's dog's name is "Charles Barkley McLovin"). The first thing he said when he was injured was "I'm sorry" to his teammates; this was a man whose patella had just been dislocated and was somewhere down his shin at this point. And as soon as they took him to the training room, he was asking for updated scores to the game. With another serious injury, critics will again have ammunition for their "Should have picked Kevin Durant" argument, especially considering his explosive scoring average and the great record that Oklahoma City has these days. Of course, these people fail to consider the difference in development that Durant would have as a third option on the Blazers versus the number one guy on a crappy team for a couple of years; those who are also quick to doubt Oden also fail to realize that Oden is only 21, and he will get more used to his body as the years go by--he has not begun to reach his ceiling. But instead of another year of great development, we're left with questions about his johnson instead.


But the Blazers never threw in the towel, and each night it's been a different player stepping up, from the ever-developing Martell Webster to the ageleass Juwan Howard (who must have found a time machine back to 1995). Perhaps the biggest surprise has been Andre Miller, who I thought was a terrible signing and a poor fit for this team, but who has on occasion lifted the team up on his shoulders and carried them. But you get the feeling that this team is the equivalent of a car held together by duct tape, and that's probably why it made sense for the Blazers to make a trade this week.

However, the trade while it made sense to most outsiders, just doesn't feel completely right to me. When you're relying on Juwan Howard to play the center position for over thirty minutes a game, it's probably not a recipe for playoff success. So it's understandable that we would want to target someone like Marcus Camby, who is one of the league leaders in rebounding, and give up fan favorites Steve Blake and Travis Outlaw in the process. But if you look at the stats, interior defense was not where we were lacking; we weren't even a bad defensive team! In fact, we were number three in points allowed, and tops in the Western Conference; and while we were not getting that many rebounds, we were still out-rebounding the other time. No, if you watched our games, our problem was more with failure to rotate from the perimeter and a total absence of a crunch-time offensive game. That's where guys like Blake and Outlaw are helpful--Steve hits the spot-up 3, and Outlaw has the balls to get to the hoop in the 4th. We'll see if this move ends up paying off, but I have my doubts.

Bill Simmons joked that Blazer fans are like those soccer parents who get obsessed with their little kid, the kind that are hypersensitive to any criticism and irrationally attached to everything they do. I'll certainly agree with this to an extent--we certainly do have our irrational attachments, and tend to overvalue our players more than necessary. That's why you'll find fans of Steve Blake and Travis Outlaw all around Portland, and we coddle Greg Oden. However, we're still realistic, and we will call out our players when necessary--we want LaMarcus to step up in the fourth quarter, and when Brandon Roy was whining at the beginning of the season, we weren't afraid to let him hear it.

But for now, we'll relax and take that 8th seed in the playoffs. And we'll continue enjoying the commentary of Barrett and Rice, like this memorable exchange:

Mike Barrett: So we'll stay the extra night in Minnesota. Who would want to get into New Orleans at 2 am?
Mike Rice: Do I really have to explain it to you?

Hump Day Helper: Double Entendre 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 know it's a little late for Valentine's Day, but I figure you'll forgive me, and have yourself a funky sexy time on a Wednesday night (putting new meaning into "hump day", if you will).

This video is just more proof that Isaac Hayes was probably the coolest motherfucker in the universe. Who cares if he's reading the lyrics off a sheet? (Is he just acting like he's reading a recipe?) Does it matter?

And if someone wants to actually give the recipe a go, I'm more than willing to hear the results.

They're packed full of vitamins and good for you
So suck on my balls...

It's A Celebration

One can only imagine the beautiful chaos that is New Orleans today. With Mardi Gras the week after a Super Bowl VICTORY, I'm sure it's been a non-stop party for my fellow Louisianians. And here I am, stuck on this miserable coast.

But at the very least I can be there in spirit. Many of you may remember my extensive journals from the last time I was back home for Mardi Gras, but my recaps failed to include a vitally important Mardi Gras tradition, that of the King Cake. And luckily, thanks to my family, I'm able to partake in the King Cake tradition once again.



I was talking to one of my law school buddies who went to Tulane, and he was telling me how he didn't much care for King Cake. I was shocked and appalled, and after careful inquiry, I realized the reason why--he had only had the crappy version that you get at the local grocery store. He had not had the experience of getting a fresh cake from a bakery, where they take special pride in this dessert. Growing up, during the Mardi Gras season, I looked forward to getting the weekly treat that one of my classmates would bring in, indulging in the icing and cream cheese and cinnamon and strawberry, always hoping to find the little plastic Baby Jesus, the most glorious of all the forms of Jesus, and looking to be King for a Day.



Thank God I'm still not living down there, because I'd be an even greater fatass than I am now. I got the cake on Friday, and after a few days of eating moderate slices with Mr. Zhuang, we were left with nearly half a cake and staleness looming large; we bit the bullet today and ate the rest of the cake, letting Fat Tuesday live up to its name. So how was your Tuesday?

Even My Fantasy Life Sucks

Recently, Mr. Zhuang and I were watching the Blazers take on the Celtics in a great back-and-forth game, that we unfortunately lost in overtime as the ageless Ray Allen, who after missing nearly everything that night, hit a clutch three-pointer. We spent a good deal of time cracking jokes about Celtics announcer Tommy Heinsohn and his bestowing of "Tommy Points"--GIVE 'IM A TOMMY POINT! Between the jokes, at some point I began to wonder about the status of my FutureWife and whether she was still cheering for the Celtics.


This started a couple of years ago, after reading a piece on Deadspin where they announced that the Celtics for the first time in their history were hiring a dance team (news that probably killed Red Auerbach). So they put a link up so we could take a look for ourselves and make obscene comments for the most part. Given that these women came from Boston, the chances that any of the dancers would be attractive were minimal. Don't let anyone try to convince you that hey, Boston is a college town, they must have some cute girls--this is bullshit. Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Models who happen to go to Harvard are definitely the exception, not the rule.

So I was pleasantly surprised to see this one girl who caught my eye; then I read her biography, and knew I had found my FutureWife. She was essentially a perfect match (well, in everything but looks, but that's understandable). She was Greek for one, which is always a plus, and wants to live in the Greek isles. Her dream is to work for the United Nations or an embassy--perfect for an International Relations major like me, and I even worked an embassy myself. So she's not just an empty head. And finally, here's the capper: her favorite band is Pearl Jam (I'll look past the show tunes part because this definitely balances that out--plus I've been known to burst out into "76 Trombones" randomly). Hello, Alexis.

So after the game was over, I search online to see if she's still cheering for the Celtics. Apparently she's no longer doing that, so I don't have to worry about her cheering against my Blazers. However, I did come across something much more unpleasant: a wedding registry. Apparently my Alexis is marrying a NotMe this May. I quickly asked friend of the blog Von Bookman to begin plans for a daring operation to break up the wedding, but he said "I've got finals in May". I tried to say he could squeeze this in, and hey, I had finals too, but I began to realize that this probably wasn't a great idea. Plus, you know, I should just be happy that my FutureWife has found her own happiness. And you never know, there may still be time for me to become FutureSecondHusband.

Cue sad, mournful song of unrequited love:


As for the real life, can't say the situation is any better. It's not like I come into Valentine's Day with any expectations; the most memorable thing about the holiday is that back in my DJ days I always had a shift on the day, even though I changed slots each year. So it's usually no big deal. But then again, when you hear things from The Girl that her plans for the holiday last year were a quick dinner with her boyfriend, and then get home early enough so she can catch the Dunk Contest, it stings a little bit. Goddammit.

So I continue to search, hopefully finding that someone. She'll relax to the grooves of Spoon, analyze the lyrics of Wolf Parade, dance with me to My Morning Jacket, tolerate my Pearl Jam fanaticism and my Mike McCready obsession, admire the majesty of Sigur Rós, marvel at the musical genius of Television, and rock out to the MC5 and The Thermals. Oh yeah, and being into music would probably be a good idea. When you find her, give me a call. Meanwhile, I see a bottle of ouzo with my name on it. Cheers.

The Doctor Is In

You might not think "hilarious" when I say the name "Alan Thicke", but after watching this video you might change your mind. Sure, we remember him from being the dad from that shitty early '90s sitcom "Growing Pains", but did you know he's also a composer? He did the theme music for "Diff'rent Strokes"! He also wrote for Richard Pryor! Lately it seems like he just wants to fuck around and have fun, showing up on things like "Tim and Eric" or "The Goods". He recently did an interview with the AVClub, providing us with the priceless quote "There’s nothing to do after that. That’s right. You can’t top it. It’s over. When it’s raining dildos, you’ve got nothing left to say after that." But the reason for the post is for more people to watch his hilarious fake-doctor routine as Doctor Proctor. There are five videos, and I recommend you watch them all.



This reminds me of another Dad from an early-90's sitcom, Patrick Duffy. While he may be more well known these days as one of the legs of Scuzzlebutt, there was a time when he was sleepwalking through one of those generic Dad roles in "Step by Step". I remember not liking him too much, but these days I respect him more because I'm pretty sure he realized how terrible the show was, and was only going to do a half-assed job. Anyways, he's had a series of amusing videos with a crab (I know, wtf), earning even more good will from me.

For comparison's sake:


Enjoy the weekend!

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.