Goodbye...

I don't think anyone reads this thing anymore mainly because I don't write here anymore, so I'm gonna move all of my blogging to my Korean blog at A Young Man From Newfoundland for the time being.

Maybe I'll post once in a while here when I have something to say that I don't want to share with all the "normal" people and family members who read my other blog.

Fuck, that was the original plan anyway wasn't it?

Merry Christmas!

What in the fuck is a Marblebog???

Every time I think I'm starting to grow up a bit I take an outsider's view of the music I listen to. Since I've arrived in Korea it's been predominantly black metal and then punk. A bit of hip hop also snuck it's way into my radar such as the new albums by Hi-Tek, AZ, all of the Papoose mix tapes (this guy is fuckin tough).

But let's get to the metal. I gave in and tried out some American Black Metal (ABM) and I found some great shit. The most impressive was a band called Judas Iscariot. They are essentially a Darkthrone ripoff but I may even like them a little better. Then there's Leviathan. They cross many borders of metal but the over the top evil vocals keep them kinda black metalish I suppose.

A few days ago I found this band Marblebog (can't remember where they are from but I'm thinking Poland or Hungary for some reason) and I've been listening to their two albums for about three days straight. Shitty production, vocals that come very close to being annoying but they never quite do. His voice actually makes me smile sometimes because it is so ridiculous. I listen to a lot of stupid metal but this may just take the grand prize. His scream is fucked. It's impossible for me to describe it, and if you heard it you'd most likely bust out laughing and say "Man, how can you listen to that crap."

And I would have no rebuttal at all...

The guitar riffs are really repetitive but they are truly original (well, as original as one can get in metal) but they are played a little too long sometimes but I guess that's the point.

I don't have anywhere to go with this post. Time to go.

Mainly, I'm wondering if anyone knows what a Marblebog is?

If only love came so easy in the rest of the world...

I can't claim that I discovered this on my own. A friend of mine (well, I don't even know the guy but some of my friends know the guy, and we traded some music and films online back in the day, so I can rightly say he's a friend I suppose... Make sense?) had this posted on his blog and I gotta post it here. Here's a link to his blog, titled The City Limits. Dude, that's cheesy as fuck, but anyway, this story is so messed up that I feel obligated to share it with the four or five people that read this thing.

Follow this link to pbs.org and watch this short documentary. It's about Kyrgyzstan and how it's a normal custom to kidnap a woman and make her marry you. Something like 1/3 of all rural women are kidnapped and married.

The reason this is relavant is because of the new Borat movie and the fact that the plot supposedly has him trying to kidnap Pamela Anderson as his wife. Borat is from Kazakhstan which is one of the 'Stans that became a sovereign nation with the collapse of the Soviet Union, along with neighbouring Kyrgyzstan. If the practice exists in one nation, it likely exists in the other.

Now don't get me wrong and start thinking I'm one for women's rights because I ain't. If women didn't "fight the power" and gain the "equality" that allowed them to climb up those ladders things would be a lot better. Men would have higher paying jobs because there would be less people in the work force, and women could stay home and properly raise their children. Then we wouldn't have a bunch of punk-ass good for nothing kids running around this Earth with no values. We also wouldn't have an over-educated population who wanna be white collar even though there are only so many white collar jobs. If women had none of those white collar jobs more men would have them and then only the non-educated people would have to go work on the oil fields in Alberta. The rest of us could make good money sitting around an office talking about cars and football while the people with the low IQs do all the hard work.

...only in a perfect world I suppose.

But nah, I'm just playing. I love women and the fact that they're sooooo smart. It's easy to tell men run the Earth isn't it.

Go watch the video at PBS.

I'll see you in Kyrgyzstan...

San Francisco values...

I have this great program for my computer here called TVUplayer. I get a bunch of channel such as ESPN, CNN (sometimes), NHL and NBA Channel, NASA TV, and all the CBS NBC type channels.

But the channel I end up watching the most is FOX News. Usually, I get home from work and watch Bill O'Reilly's show and I can't really decide if I hate the guy or not.

Go to Youtube and watch his appearance on Letterman and you'll see what I mean. Both men seems like idiots during the interview with Dave taking the "Americans are dying in Iraq" stance O'Reilly saying "But we can't leave or we lose" stance.

I don't even know where I'm going with this. I just wanted to say that I watch B.O. and his show is very enjoyable. Whether you live him or hate him, it's a good watch.

I wouldn't really call it news though. It's more like a Dennis Miller rant but the comedy is not intentional, and the jokes aren't jokes.

One thing that pisses me off is that he spends half of each show referencing his bestselling book "Culture Warrior." I think the title of the book is my favorite thing about it.

He's making it seem like he's the guy out there fighting for America. "I'm the guy who's really gonna win this war against those Islamic pricks."

I was gonna read the book but I decided against it. I don't have time to read such junk. Why would I read this book when I can get the audio book version with Mr. O'Reilly himself reading it to me.

I downloaded it last night and I can't wait to waste six hours of my life listening to his insight.

Oh, time for me to go. It's time for me to enter the "No Spin Zone."

There is one thing that pisses me off about the guy and that's the way he spells his last name. Dude, it's "i" before "e" except after "c."

What a fucking asshole.

Bad idea...

Before I drank the beer and soju, I ate two hot dogs (I found them at the GS Mart and I've never been so excited to see hot dogs).

I ended up passing out on my couch sometime in the afternoon and when I woke up I went and grabbed some McDonalds. I then checked out some of the stores on Rodeo Street and they were fucking awesome.

Two Nike stores, Adidas store, Converse store, two Levi's stores, Bean Pole, Arnold Palmer, multiple shoe stores, uncountable street merchants (selling everything and anything you can think of), and just about anything else you can think of.

And supposedly its one of the cheapest places to shop in Seoul, which works for me because I don't like to waste money unless I'm gettin' a deal.

But back to the story.

So I got home from checking out the shop and a friend calls me up and I head to Gangnom for a few drinks. Get drunk again and I managed to get the last train home.

I'm starving by the time I walk in the door so I cook two more hot dogs.

Bad idea.

But I my hunger isn't fulfilled so I eat some Pringles and cheese flavored crackers.

Bad idea.

Then I eat a cup of Jello.

Bad idea.

I then brush my teeth and go to bed. I'm awakened by one of the most unpleasant things a person can experience; a mouthful of vomit.

My first instinct was to swallow it so that's what I did. The shit was up my nose and it was so fuckin' gross.

I think I made the right decision because there was no way I'd make it down from my loft to the bathroom, and the garbage can I have by my bed is quite small and was just about full so it would have overflowed. And to be honest, I'd rather swallow that shit than have to clean it up off the floor.

The funny thing is that it was only yesterday that I removed the plastic covering off of my matress (I bought a second set of sheets and changed them and removed the plastic wrap in the process). Just imagine if I actually threw up on the bed the day after I took off the plastic. Thankfully I wasn't that unlucky...

Because I hate throwing up so much, I didn't do the sensible thing and just go to the toilet and get it over with. Instead I ate a shitload of Tums and acid reflux pills and Pepto Bismol tablets. This did little to ease my stomach and my nose was still burning like crazy.

I went back to bed and suffered for an hour or so and finally got to sleep. When I woke up I had one of the worst cases of heart burn I've ever experienced in my life.

I can't even make a joke at the end of this post because there's no need.

Ugh...

Alcoholiday...

I just got home from work and I have the next six days off. I decided I'm gonna drink a lot, even if I'm by myself.

I would consider myself a social drinker and I seldom have a beer by myself. I can count the number of times I got drunk alone on one hand, and the circumstances usually involved me trying to catch up to my friends who are already drunk.

Well, today I'm going to get drunk by myself before I go out anywhere. I have no plans for tonight but I bet if I get drunk, I'll find something to do. I have to meet some friends tomorrow but tonight is not tomorrow. I just started vacation god damn it and I deserve this, I s'pose. I sent out an e-mail to see if anyone I know is doing anything tonight, but right now the schedules empty.

Here's what I'm gonna drink.

I put the pack of cigarettes to the left as a reference. The green bottle is soju, Korea's famous alcoholic beverage. The stuff is 20-25 percent alcohol and a flask (about 375 mL's I suppose) is about a buck-twenty Canadian.

The beer is called Cass and it tastes like water. Alcohol percentage is 4.5 percent.

These three products cost less than ten bucks Canadian, which is fucking great!

Maybe I'll just start drinking everyday because I can easily afford it. I'll use the Chuseok holiday to as my measuring stick and see if I've got what it takes.

Payback time...

Ol' Dirty Bastard - Nigga Please - 1999

Looks like I'm gonna have to buy a CD in November. I haven't bought an album since the RZA's "Birth of a Prince." I felt kinda guilty because I downloaded about 100 Wu-Tang related albums in a month so I figured I should buy at least one album. So I did.

When it comes to rock and metal, I spent enough money on CD's in high school to justify never buying another album from those genres. I didn't even buy the new Slayer album that was released a couple weeks ago. It is the first Slayer album I haven't purchased.

But next month the new Ol' Dirty Bastard album is finally gonna be released. He died almost two years ago and the album he was working on is just getting released now. I've already heard most of the songs and they're nothing special, but I have to buy this album based on principal alone.

Its ODB that made me take hip hop serious, as absurd as that may sound. In high school I listened to a little Easy-E and Onyx but only because it was funny and entertaining. Driving around listening to "Bust Day Ass" by Onyx brings back many hazy memories of the Ozmobile and the mean streets of Deer Lake.

But anyway, I was living in Halifax in 2001 (I think) when my cousin Diggz left a copy of "Nigga Please" at my apartment. On my way to work one day I popped it into my discman and my life was forever changed.

I didn't know hip hop could be raunchy, raw, humorous, serious, and scary all at the same time. ODB was like the Kurt Cobain of hip hop or something. He may be imitated but it will be impossible to match his quality. I feel this way about Nirvana's Nevermind as well.

"Nigga Please" was also the soundtrack during some of the best nights of my life. Sitting around in the woods wasted out of our minds listening to this album with my hometown posse was definitely enhanced by the unstableness and unpredictability of ODB.

Nigga Please is one of the craziest records ever released in my opinion. The vocal work rivals something like early Bad Brains because ODB just lets loose with throat splitting screams and yelps, all while keeping it so fucking real. The chorus of "You Don't Want to Fuck With Me" is one of the worst sang phrases of any artist ever, but it works so well. Nigga Please is a very frantic piece of work and some of his rhymes are so fuckin' ridiculous that they are extremely clever.

On the track "I Can't Wait" he gives a shout out to the Eskimos and the submarines. On "You Don't Want to Fuck With Me" he speaks some great crack head truths such as "Fuck God, God don't forgive" and "You really wanna cum the cocaine make your pussy numb." At the end of a great freak on the track "Rollin' Wit You" he asks "Yo, did you understand that?"

Then there's one of the best chorus's to ever grace any song "Big baby Jesus I can't wait, Nigger fuck that I can't wait." The insanity of the way he sings this will probably never be topped.

I want to quote the full album but I'll refrain but here are a few more than memorable quotes that pop into my head

"I'm the paranoid nigger at your party."

"You can call me dirty, and then lift up your skirt, and you want some of this dirty? God made dirt and dirt bust ya ass."

"If I got a problem, a problems got a problem 'til its gone."

"When I throw at football pass at a bitch she miss."

"Cancer, herpes, mumps, seizures, diabetes, TB if your against me, (cops) you die easier"

"Yeah my momma can not protect y'all"

A lot of the credit on this album has to be given to the men who cut and edited ODB's rants and put them together as objects that resemble songs. A lot of the verses are obviously rearranged, clipped, overlapped, underlapped, and whatever else you can think of. ODB was likely just in a coke craze for much of the recording of this album and it shows, but thankfully the producers were able to arrange ODB's outbursts into a very memorable album.

The beats are also great and consistent. I don't think there's one bad beat on this album, and that can't be said for many rap albums, even Wu-Tang releases.

Fuck, this is just a great record and there will never be anything else quite like it and without my cousin Diggz leaving this at my apartment, I don't know how my life would be today. I would have probably never searched deeper into hip hop and I'd be missing out on Kool Keith, Gangstarr, Lootpack, Biggie, Madlib, Nas, Talib Kweli, and the list goes on and on and on.

In the end, hip hop is simply the black man's version of punk rock.

I need some important advice...

How long can you leave fried chicken in the fridge without getting sick when you eat it?

Is it worth paying 40-50 bucks for a taxi home on the weekend if you spend very little money throughout the week?

Is it wrong to be an elementary teacher and listen to GG Allin while you're sitting in the teacher's room writing lesson plans?

Are people you meet on the internet actually your "friends" if you've never met them in real life?

Is it just me, or is shaving everyday a giant pain in the ass?

If you had no dryer and only one set of sheets/blankets, when would be the best time to wash them and leave them hanging to dry for two days?

If cigarettes are a fraction of the price that you're used to, should you smoke more using a ratio based on the cost of each cigarette (for example, if 1 smoke in Canada costs 50 cents, but they cost 10 cents somewhere else, should you smoke five times more cigarettes when you're at that other place)?

Hindsight is a useless blur...

What's wrong with being right wing?

I choose to think for myself and I happen to belive in some right wing fundementals because we live in a world that is not truly democratic left or right. I think to limit yourself to one partisan ideal is foolish, and to me its almost as silly to call yourself a liberal. To me liberal means you don't stand for anything. It means you don't believe in anything, and you don't like to think for yourself.

The left wing band wagon gets under my skin because they really have nothing to say most of the time, similar to myself at times. All the left are good at doing is bashing the right. They have no solutions to offer only "Let's leave Iraq" or "War is mean." I consider myself to be a post idealist and rather than whine about what has been done (once again similar to myself but not when I'm talking politics) let's have a discussion about what we should do.

Hindsight is 20/20 and its totally useless to the present situations at hand. As a friend of mine would say "Liberal Weenies Suck" and here's a perfect example.

Jack Layton of the NDP (Canada' Left Wing Party) actually wants to pull Canadian troops out of Afghanistan. The battle is heated and sure, a few Canadian soldiers are getting killed (35 or so, which is a drop in the bucket if you ask me) but many more Taliban members are being uprooted, dislocated, and killed. I know what you liberal weenies are thinking... "but so many innocent people are dying" "they aren't making any progress" "what about the families of the Canadian soldiers who died"....

Look at it this way. Canadians have one of the best countries and lifestyles on this rock. What have we done to deserve this? Anything? I think it is our obligation to help a country like Afghanistan, who have appealled to the UN for help after 9/11. All you liberal weenies use the lack of UN support as a reason to bash the US and the Iraq war, but these same people in Canada wanna pull out of Afghanistan which is a UN sanctioned "battle" (I dont' want to call it a war... 1000's of people die on both sides in wars).

War and battles are not meant to be easy. Helping a country remove a tyranical, religion obsessed group from ruling it's country is not supposed to be easy. Fighting an enemy not in uniform is not easy. Some things in life are not easy, but does that mean we should quit?

Here's a quote from a friend's blog (he's linked to the right, although he never updates)...

"Hippies must start to realize that America is not evil. The military and economic interventions it has implemented around the globe do not represent an empire building operation. American foreign policy attempts to end war and create global prosperity through the spreading of democracy and capitalism. In areas which have accepted this paradigm, success has been great. For an example look at the economic miracle which has taken place in the democratic Asian nations.

Canadians love to hate Americans. Probably due to jealousy. They are the older sibling who is the worlds greatest doctor, rich and powerful, while we continue to smoke weed in dad's car talking trash about them."

I'm not gonna say I agree with what he says fully, but just about.

Redundant...

Having two blogs with Korean themes was boring. I've changed the layout, look, and title of this blog, well, sort of. This is where I rant while I just happen to be in Korea. Seoul has nothing to do with this blog really and my other blog is only about Seoul, so this just made more sense to me.

I don't really know why I chose the sellout thing, but it just felt right. Its about time I sold out really. I'm 25 fucking years old ya know, teaching, and not being a pothead. So in a way I think I've sold out.

There comes a time in every man's life where he has to make a decision and do something semi-responsible and mature.

I just noticed the song on my playlist right now is "We'd Have a Riot Doing Heroin" by the Queers.

It don't get any more grown up than that ladies and gents.

But yeah, the song's over now so its time for me to act my age again.

Kind Regards,
R

I don't have any pets...

The last pet I had was a bird that I ended up trading for a Tonka Truck when I was 5-9 years old. I don't really remember. I traded it because it drove me and my family nuts chirping all the time. Pet birds are like pet fish, only much more annoying.

My first pet was a dog named Sloopy. He ran away during the first week that I had him and my father saw it chained on to the steps of a welfare apartment on his way to work one morning. Some welfare bum named Spooky Lukey (who I later in life bought dope from) had Sloopy (this is true) tied on with a chain so thick the dog couldn't even move, let alone stand up.

My father went and got the dog back but he ran away for good the next week. I don't really remember being sad about this but I'm sure I was. One thing I do remember is the piece of carpet by the entrance of my house where the dog would sit. It was there for years. I don't know if I wanted my parents to keep it there or if I wanted to keep it there, or if it just never got removed.

I've only ever had two pets and I traded one away and the other one ran away. Maybe this is why I'm more of a cat person than a dog person.

Anyway, the point of this post is this: If I ever get a cat, I'm calling it "Dog," and if I ever get a dog I'm calling it "Cat."

You ain't got shit...

I just got the net at my apartment here in Seoul. Man, its so fuckin fast. It's actually unreal to me. Doesn't seem like over in Canada we could be getting ripped of like we are. How in the fuck can Korea have better shit than Canada??

Well, I suppose our water is better in Canada, and our air quality, there are far fewer Asians in Canada as well, and there's good food in Canada, and lots of easily accessible party enhancers, a larger variety of cars, and beer that can get you drunk.

But damn, the Koreans got faster internet.

I think 20 hours straight of the Korean internet is giving me Dandy-Walker Syndrome.

You can call me Mel...

[Disclaimer: The views of the author are not anti-semitic. They are comparative, and highly sarcastic.]

So the Jew thing...

In my hometown of Deer Lake, Newfoundland, there are some Jews. One guy is a dentist. The other one used to run some very successful stores in the town. Last year he closed up shop mainly because there's a Walmart in the next town now, and he focused too much on Sporting goods.

My point is that Jews are over-represented on this Earth. Their numbers are small but they are everywhere and everyone knows they're around. That is also how the Newfoundlander operates.

The Jews were persecuted by the Nazis and were forced to spread themselves throughout the world. Even before the Nazis, they were running successful businesses across the globe.

Newfoundlanders are also littered throughout this sphere. There are not too many places one could go and not find a Newfy if they were long enough.

Newfoundlanders are also being persecuted as we speak, but not by the Nazis, by the Canadian government. I'm not in the mood to go on this rant, so Greg, when you read this, leave a comment about how our island is getting fucked up the ass by Canada and I'll insert in this post. You must have built up a lot of love for Canada living in Quebec I'm sure.

But anyway, the persecution has led to us being forced away from our home and for many of us, there is no sustainable way for us to move back there and live a happy life. The Jews also have a similar experience but they have to deal with rockets being shot into their homes instead of a poor economy.

To move back to Newfoundland you have to hit the right numbers on the lotto.

VLTs don't pay out enough.

We're a lot like Jews...

Newfoundlanders and Jews have quite a bit in common.

More on this thought later.

It found me...

So it found me and it was awesome. I suppose it's my destiny.

Amazing bible studies...

I typed in the wrong address trying to get to this blog tonight.

http://richardwball.blogpot.com/ is what I typed.

Check it out.

At first I thought I was born again.

It'll find you...

I thought there were no drugs in Korea. I was wrong.

I was talking to some people who can get LSD. It's from Japan. I dunno if it's any good but if I had to bet, I'd say it's better than the Canadian stuff. Japanese people are quite efficient and this probably applies to their drug chemists as well.

Another way to get dope is by prescription. Because of the language barrier, Westerners can easily go to a Korean Doctor and get a prescription of Ritilin. Just say that you find yourself wandering when you're trying to teach and you can't stay focussed on the lesson. Apparently, the Docs will ask you if you want 10's or 20's and how many months you need the prescription for. They cost about $1 per pill here which is much cheaper than on the street back home.

I had a staff meeting yesterday and my mind was really wandering (hmm, maybe I need some Ritilin). There's one lady who I find oddly attractive. She's kinda old but I bet she was smokin' when she was younger. She teaches music and sits two seats down from me in the teacher's offices. The best way to describe her is that she's the Korean version of Anita Bloom. Anyone from Deer Lake will understand this.

To be honest, I think they are twins. I dunno what you call twins who share the same genes but are a different race. There must be a medical term to describe this.

I then looked around the room in order to stop sizing up Korea Bloom and for some reason I said to myself "There are about 50 people here. They were all children once. I wonder how many dong-chims they gave in total." A strange thought I know but I couldn't understand anything being said so I had to keep myself awake somehow.

My estimate is in the thousands.

For those of you who forget, a dong-chim is a Korean wedgy but a little different. Instead of yanking a person's underwear into their ass, they put their hands together, make a pistol shape with their two hands, and proceed to shove the two pointer fingers up another person's arse.

It was a challenge to keep the grin off my face while I thought of these unusual actions. I then remembered something about my own childhood. I used to give my little brother wedgies quite frequently and he didn't even resist. I think he was so small that he found it fun or something. I can picture it perfectly, me yanking on his briefs and him laughing hesterically.

My face was now converted into a full-fledged smile and I was nearly laughing out loud.

You know, I think I definitely need some Ritilin.

Or maybe a shrink?

Clean as a whistle...

It's been well over 3 days since I've smoked a joint. That's the longest I've went in about 5 years. No kidding. Not bragging. It's sincerely statistical.

And I could honestly care less.

If you wanna get off da dope b'y, move to Korea.

I still can't think very well though, and I didn't get any taller.

Losing count...

I have started my PG-13 rated Korean Blog. I'll still be posting on this blog but probably not as frequent. Here's the link.

http://www.soldmyseoul.blogspot.com/

I'd appreciate it if this blog is never mentioned on my Korean blog if you leave comments.

Second-hand suicide...

This post is mainly for my non-smoking readers. I'm not sure if I know anyone who doesn't smoke but if I do, this is for you.

Here in Canada we have graphic warnings on our packs of smokes that force you to see the devastating effects of smoking. According to CNN, these warnings are actually working and cause people to think about how gross they are for being a smoker.

Well, this post is not intended to be another smoking rant (although it’ll likely end up that way), but it is smoking that has lead me to this post. You see, there is one warning that has a graph illustrating cause of death. Smoking is the longest bar on this graph, but it is the second bar that always intrigues me.


Suicide is the second highest killer on this graph, killing 3900 Canadians a year. Suicide is a bigger killer than car accidents!

I want to know if the suicide rate has increased or decreased since these labels were printed on my pack of smokes. I bet it has increased because some people are not proud of being a smoker. I fall into this category every once in a while if I am around a bunch of non-smoking wussies and I really wanna fire one up but feel awkward about doing it. In those types of situations, I often feel like killing myself because I want a smoke soooo bad but I don't want my company to see the rotten gums on my pack.

Thankfully, I can never find any rope and I stopped carrying a gun shortly after high school.

If smoking wasn't frowned upon, I wouldn't have this suicidal tendency. And if my pack of cigs didn't have a picture of a cancerous lung on the front, I would not be ashamed to whip them out.

Let's try to save some lives here by trying to make Health Canada lighten up a little and first, chill out on the labels, and secondly, DECREASE THE PRICE OF SMOKES BECAUSE THEY ARE CRAZY FREAKIN' EXPENSIVE NOW.

I bet a lot of smokers commit suicide because they spent their whole welfare check on smokes and can't afford to get any Christmas gifts for their kids. Once you buy some booze and play the ATM's for a few hours, there ain't much left to that welfare check. About enough to buy some smokes, and that's all.


I’m sure this guy knows exactly what I’m talking about.

12-Volt came back the very next day...

I was making lunch yesterday and I heard 12-Volt (that's the name I gave to the cat I found next to the battery of our Rav 4) outside somewhere. I went to check it out and found her outside my fence, in between another fence, in the middle of a thorn bush, in the graveyard next door (on the pic below, there is another fence behind the white fence and that big bush is the thorn bush).


This cat sure picks her spots.

I climbed the fence into the graveyard, snatched the cat, and walked to the gate but it wouldn't open. I guess families can't visit their deceased loved ones if they're in that section of the g-yard. Maybe it's for disowned family members, or criminals, or Protestants. Who knows?

I dropped the cat on the other side of the fence, hopped over as quickly as I could (and just to let you know, I can hop a fence with the best of 'em) and as soon as I hit the ground, 12-Volt calmly walked under the fence to the other side.

This pissed me off and I guess she sensed it so she came back to my side. I took her back to my yard and gave her some supper. She didn't like the box I kept her in too much so I just let her go again at her own volition.

I woke up today and my dad said that the cat was up on the patio this morning but when I went out there was no sign of her. But sure enough, at supper time she began to make her patented moans and I went out and got her from the fence and fed her.

I'm hoping she doesn't come back tomorrow because she probably doesn't realize the the SPCA will be open tomorrow. I don't know if kittens are popular down there, but I do know that they will put her "to sleep" if no one takes her. I have a soft spot for cats and I don't want this to happen. I might not bring her to the SPCA and hope that my dad and bro take care of her. This is not a likely scenario, but it's worth a shot.

If I was staying in Newfoundland (or maybe even Canada) I would keep 12-Volt myself. She's quite cute and has an easy going personality. But I'm off to Korea in less than 36 hours so hopefully someone else in the neighborhood finds her before then and decides to keep her.

Now that I think of it, I don't even know if she's a her.

Either way, I think the name 12-Volt suits both males and females.

Don't you?

No, I am not retarded...

I found a cat yesterday. It’s only a kitten.

I came home Thursday at 5AM drunk. Went to bed and heard this weird noise coming from outside so I shut my window. I went to The Spud (hangover food) the next day to get something to eat. I drove the Rav 4. I heard the same weird noise from the night before at The Spud. It didn’t sound like a bird but that’s the only thing I could think that would make such a noise. Maybe Deer Lake had a few new breeds hanging around this summer?

I got home and told dad and Ryan about the noise and they looked at me like I was retarded.

Later in the day dad went to clean out the Rav and shortly after he began he shouted out to me. I went out to see what he wanted and he was pointing at the Rav. I was confused, but then I heard the noise coming from under the hood. We opened it up and there was a little kitten in this little space about half the size of a shoebox.

The cat was frightened and defensive, as it should be after driving around in the Rav with Ryan all night (I just asked Ryan where he went in the Rav and he said he was driving up the steepest hills he could find testing out the Rav's off-road capabilities... behind Langers/Colemans).

I couldn't get it out so I went over and to my neighbour (who is a babe) to see if she had a can of tuna. She did and with it we managed to get the cat to come out.

Now I'm stuck with this kitten and don't know what to do with it. The SPCA ain't opened until Monday. My neighbour wanted to take it up to Airport Avenue and "set it free" but I don't like that idea. She said she's done that before! But cats are probably my favorite animal so I just can't do that. If it was a dog, I wouldn't care.

I woke up this morning, went to the box and the kitten was still there. I ran to the store to pick up some food but when I got back it was gone. But I can still hear its faint cries when the wind calms down for a moment.

She’ll be back.

Your mom's probably right...

I've been spending a fair bit of time in Corner Brook lately. A couple of my old "univerisity buddies" from the suburb of Pasadena are down there living the dream getting drunk and drawing the pogey. I envy them.

Vocals
We usually end up jamming there most of the time and the b'ys have a band started called "The No Goods." They can be found on myspace.com, which is a piece of shit and not working at the moment so I can't link them here. As my buddy Chucky said, "Those guys are the essense of punk" and it's true.

Bass

The name came from Bessy's (bass player) mother, who said that Bessy and his friends (the other band members) are a bunch of "no goods." She might be right, but she don't listen to punk rock.



Drums
How can you go wrong with songs titled "I Hate Vacuum Cleaners," "Pogey Check," and "I Hate Peas." It's way better than a song name such as "I Don't Cry" or some bullshit like that.

Guitar

Reunited with the facts...

I spent the last week with my family. The Healey family had a reunion and because my paternal grandmother was a Healey, all of the Ball family was in attendance. My body is not designed to drink seven nights in a row, but thankfully I was 3.5 hours back (Alberta Time) so I managed to be the last family member to leave the bar just about every night. By the end of it I just couldn't get drunk and last night I was actually craving a beer, but I didn't let myself have one. Instead, I caught up with some old friends.

Today, I found out where I'll be teaching in Seoul, but I still don't know exactly where I'll be living. The school is called Namcheon Elementary School and it's located at 53 Macheon-Dong, Songpa-gu. The "gu" is my city district and the "dong" is the neighborhood within the district. If anyone knows anything about this place lemme know. All I've been able find out came from Wikipedia and it says Songpa-gu is a fancy, ritzy part of town and it is home to the world's largest indoor amusement park, called Lotte World.


I recently learned how Wikipedia works from my good friend Stephen Colbert. The general public can put anything they want on this "encyclopedia" and if enough people agree, it gets a place on the site. So really it’s the encyclopedia of public opinion where facts can be overruled by popular opinion. Stephen's currently on a mission to triple the population of elephants in Africa by simply saying that this is happening. The scientists say their numbers are greatly declining, but if Mr. Colbert can get enough people to agree that their population has actually tripled, he will have done a great duty to Africa and its elephants.

He calls this "Wikiality" and that seems much better than what scientists refer to as "Reality." Scientists are such a bore.

In an earlier post, I referenced a few pages from Wikipedia and now that I know exactly how it works, I'm relieved that I didn't take information from some site with wack facts. I used the truth.

And last but not least, I'm gonna post a link to my other blog at Myspace. I strictly plan on talking about music here and giving vague reviews of some of my favorite music that most people have probably never heard of.

Also, when I get to Korea I'm gonna start a PG-13 blog about my travels and experiences in Asia. I'm gonna give this link to my parents, grandparents, previous co-workers, etc. so I'm gonna keep it clean. I dunno what'll happen to this site once I begin the new one.

I'll probably just keep this blog for stories about the multitude of prostitutes I'm gonna be spending my nights with. And whatever other weird shit I do that I don't wanna share with my Nan and Pop.

I forgot...

I never did do a post about my second night in Banff. Very similar to the first night in the alcohol/idiot department but there were a few differences.

The bar was advertising $4.50 shots of Jägermeister and I was buying them up. The bartender eventually told me that this wasn't even a special. $4.50 is the regular price. Then she realized I was from Newfoundland and I realized she was from Nova Scotia and everything changed. As soon as we knew we were on the same team (The East Coast Team), the Jägermeister shots suddenly became free. I'd go to the bar to get a beer and I'd order two shots with the beer, a shot for me and a shot for her. This procedure went on for the rest of the evening and I think she was getting a bit tipsy by the end of it. I was tipsy at the beginning of it.

Once again the bar was packed with a wide range of people and the good times were never in short supply. Some people came up to me like they knew me, but I had no idea who they were. I was so drunk the night before that I couldn't remember any of them and this seemed to make perfect sense to them because nearly all of them came to comment about me extreme alcohol abuse. It was almost like they were congratulating me for making it to the bar again.

I managed to stay on my feet the whole night and never "passed out" into the stage all night long! Left the bar and I didn't get any tickets either!! Then I got back to the band house and hung out with Joe and Mim for a bit. They went inside (no non-band members were allowed in the house) and I went to their van, which was my suite for the evening.

I couldn't sleep because there was too much noise out front. I got outta the van, lit a smoke, and went to see what was happening. To my delight, there was a sidewalk party going on made up of BC chicks and Frenchies from Quebec. There were only two girls and about half a dozen French guys, and one Newfy: Moi. The girls were hot and, well, the guys were French, so as usual, I was the coolest dude in the vacinity.

The girls had a 26er each and the Frenchys wouldn't shoot any of it with them. Being the hero that I am, I managed to help these desperate girls empty the bottles, and we all ended up in a parked car drinking more booze. Luckily, I had a front seat all to myself because the Frenchys seemed a bit crowded there in the back. We went to the car because none of us had a place to bring our little party. The girls were staying at some place where they couldn't have people in, and so were the French guys, and yeah, I was staying in a van. Thank god for the sidewalk.

The car party was actually quite dumb and one of the girls looked at me and wanted to go so we did. We ended up at a pizza place and then in a back alley drunkenly making out. Then we both realized that this was as far as it was going because I was living in a van and she couldn't take me home with her either. We were both so wasted by this point that we just kinda accepted our fate and went separately "home" to pass out. Turns out she was only staying two houses down from me. If I bumped into her today I don't think I would even recognize her, and the same goes for her. I think that's just how shit works in Banff.

I woke up the next morning feeling darn good for the amount of torture I put my body through the night before. I walked out to the front of the house and there was glass smashed on the sidewalk and two empty 26ers sitting by the fence.

This confirmed that the night was not an illusion and I didn't dream the events of the last night of my alcoholiday.

It all comes down to the criteria...

It just occurred to me.

I'm from a place called "The Rock." Its proper name is The Province of Newfoundland and Labrador (Lab-ra who?) and any serious Newfoundland Nationalist will strictly refer to it as The Republic of Newfoundland.

In a few weeks, I'm moving to a place called The R.O.K. Its proper name is The Republic of Korea. The Rock and The R.O.K. both have the same pronunciation.

Coincidence? I think not.

Although these two places are both Republics with the same name, they are in fact very different and it should become obvious which one is better.

When comparing any two locations, it is always important to choose the proper criteria. Anyone who knows anything about history knows that the best criterion for comparing Republics is Nationalistic Swimwear. I'm happy to say The Rock wins hands down. Check it out.


For those unfamiliar with The Rock, green, white, and pink were the colours of the flag before Newfoundland was invaded and taken over by Canada (or something like that anyway...). These colours also look great on swimsuits.

I know you're wondering about Korea's Nationalistic Swimwear (well, I couldn't find any on the web) and probably saying to yourself "This sure doesn't seem like a fair competition until I see some R.O.K. bikinis." And I somewhat agree with your point, but until someone presents me with pictures of Korean babes scantily clad in the Tae Kuk, The Rock is the winner of "The Best Republic Called 'The Rock'."

Coincidence? No such thing...

It's quite simple really...

I was watching TV the other day and realized how entertaining America's Funniest Home Video's really is (or America's Funniest Videos as it's called now). It's one of the few shows that every person who's ever been exposed to it had to laugh at something. Whether you get your kicks from kicks to the nuts, people falling down, cute animals doing extraordinarily strange things, unintentional destruction of property, wedding night mishaps, adorable kids acting up, there is something for everyone on AFV.


If you don't enjoy this show, you must not be human. It's as simple as that.

"Pump my gas, pump my ass" - Leprechaun

Squirm.

Yup.
That's right.
The notorious N. Reid from Reidsville.
That's who I saw in Banff.
Now just imagine that.

We were outside the bar for a cigarette when this familiar figure walked by me with a decent looking gal. In my drunken stupor the only word I could force out of my lips was "SQUIRM?!"

Then I heard It...

It's a sound that once you hear It, you never forget It. It sounds how I imagine an oversized leprechaun may sound if you told it a real good joke.

It was Squirm's laugh.

Still as distinct as ever.

Then he spoke.

"I haven't heard that name in a long time b'ys ."

I just looked at my buddy Brian Crane (he's from my hometown) and we couldn't believe our eyes.

Another great helping of unlikelyness dealt out by my good ol' friend Banff.

You see, Squirm was a significant figure during my adolescents. Back in the day, me and my friends snuck into the pool at Squirm's cabin for a late night swim, and then an unnamed friend took a shit in there before we left.

Squirm is older than me and he used to have a Geo Tracker. I can remember waiting for him to get off work to buy us beer and give us a ride to the beach to drink them. There'd be about 10 of us in that little thing and he didn't give a fuck. He worked at an Esso gas bar and for some unknown reason, we referred to all employees there as "Ass Pirates."

It seems like eternities ago that I used to walk into Subway and hope that Squirm didn't serve me. The rumoured pimples on his back kinda spoiled my appetite, but the man could make a great sub, I must admit, and if you did end up with him as your chef, you would be quite pleased with the result.

I can't remember what he said he's up to now. But I bet it's a lot cooler than what must of us are doing. The guy has a decent girl and lives in a party town. Is there much more a man from Reidsville could ask for?

I say "Well done Squirm!"

Improper disposal of waste...

I just got back from Banff. I went out there with a friend from Deer Lake to see the band Canary Mine and to get on a party. I know the band from the audio school I went to in Ontario and I haven't seen any of the guys since I lived at Castle Sketchator a few years back. We were winging it the whole weekend and everything managed to work itself out much better than if we planned anything. I slept in a van and my buddy slept in his truck for both nights, which ain't too uncomfortable when you're drunk as fuck and just need somewhere to lie and pass out.

To the uninitiated, Banff is a small tourist town neatly tucked into the Rocky Mountains about 140 km west of Calgary. Nobody in Banff is from Banff, and just about everyone is a tourist on vacation. The streets are alive with people and everyone is happy.

As planned, we got extremely drunk Friday night and I blacked out as usual. After the lights went out in my head, I was up dancing and fell onto the stage, or as James says (he's in the band), "Richard comes thrashing through and passes out face first on the stage." That's not 100% accurate though because I didn't "pass out," I just tripped and fell. Then some dude comes up to the stage and the band thought it was the bouncer coming to give me the boot outta the place but it wasn't. The guy came and helped me up and I carried on like nothing happened. That's how I roll... smooth, cool, and collected.

Check out "Banff p. 3" to get James' account of the night. He keeps a tour log on the band's site, and he was likely more sober than me anyway.

We leave the bar when it shuts down and hang out on the main drag for a bit, which ain't much. By this point I really gotta piss so I walk over into a corner and go about my business. As soon as I began a cop drove by, saw me there, cut a u-turn and sure enough, he was coming for me. My corner stall is in the pic below, directly behind me.


My buddies warned me to be nice to the officer because I could've easily been taken to the drunk tank. I don't really remember what the cop was like, but I'm gonna assume he was a dick and I was very cooperative. Even after my total cooperation, he still gives me a $115 ticket for "Improper Disposal of Waste." I woke up in the morning and reached in my pocket to find the crumbled up pink citation and then it all started to come back to me.


When all was said and done, awesome night, old friends, deadly people at the bar (hanging out with people from all over the world), awesome bar staff, awesome band, couldn't of had a better night. The fact that nobody is a local is great because there’s so much interaction between everyone because there are no cliques, no regulars, just a conglomerate of people out to have a great time.

And oh yeah I almost forgot the best part of the whole weekend. I ran into someone from Deer Lake at the Rose and Crown Pub. He used to be an Esso Ass Pirate (for the half-a-dozen people who know what that means) and soon retired to sandwich artist.

Her only joy was on fire...

This is my second blog entry in the same day. That doesn't happen much but I've had an "interesting" day by comparison.

At work today, I went out for a smoke with the receptionist and a nurse (both whom happen to be felloe Newfoundlanders). The nurse wanted to hide away because she's ashamed of being a smoker so we went over in this little corner by the pharmacy. There was a lady there who was at least sixty years old. She was in an electric wheelchair enjoying a cigarette.

The nurse began to talk to her, asking her about her condition. This lady was in rough shape. She only had one leg. Her other leg was in a leg splint (if that's what it’s called) wrapped up in bandages. Both of her arms looked like they had shrunk as they didn't proportionally match up to her head and torso. But her hands were the most disturbing part for me. If her hand was in a fist, her knuckles would protrude as if they were extra fingers. It was only when I had my cigarette half finished that I figured out what was going on with them. I thought she may have had amputated fingers or something but it was just the way she was holding her cigarette that made them so hard to visually comprehend.

She talked about the doctor reconnecting her tendons while the nurse listened in like everything was normal. The woman in the chair said she didn't think the doc actually reconnected them so the nurse asked her to move and bend the leg and so forth.

I found this whole situation almost unbearable. This woman perfectly had her wits about her yet she was practically a mutant and I'm not sure if I've ever pitied a person as much. Then I thought about how I would feel if she was a little crazy and I don't think I would have felt nearly as bad. To me, right or wrong, this woman was missing out on a life which she is totally capable of living mentally, but physically she bound to her chair. In a way, I almost wished she was crazy so that maybe she couldn't comprehend the magnitude of her disability and thus wouldn't fully be able to realize her situation. I've had a few cigarettes with another older lady whom talks about her pet birds in every conversation. Whether or not these birds ever existed is not important because her whole thought process revolves them. She opens her window and calls their name and they fly right in, so she says. I don't know why she only talks about her birds; maybe it’s the only thing in life that is worth remembering for her. If so, she has at least chosen something that she is completely happy to talk about over and over again with no loss of enthusiasm.

The lady whom I smoked with today does not share this enthusiasm. "You reach a certain age and you just keep falling down. Falling down, over and over. And the doctors try to help and thanks to them I lost my leg from a mosquito bite. You just keep falling. They tried to blame it on everything but themselves. They even tried to blame it on this (she points to her cigarette)" At one point, while I was trying to keep myself composed, she said something like "I may start to cry" but I didn't catch the overall context of what she meant.

The nurse said she heard of people losing their legs from bites. The lady said something got infected and amputation was the only option, and the nurse followed by saying "They say that if you go into a hospital healthy, you're not gonna come out of the hospital healthy."

This nurse formerly ran a methadone clinic somewhere in the United States so she must be used to seeing the downtrodden. I, on the other hand, am not. I can barely eat while a handicapped person is sitting across the room from me, let alone joke with a dismembered lady who is perfectly sane living a life of relative misery.

As the nurse talked to her I realized something. Smoking is probably one of the few things this lady can do like other people and fully enjoy it. So to all of the non-smoking whiners out there (and not all non-smokers are whiners), get over it. Sure, smoking kills, but it also gives some people a small reason to carry on each day, but more importantly, it gives them something to look forward to each day. And it also forces people into uncomfortable situations that force them to things they may otherwise avoid, such as the situation I was put in today.

To that, I say "thank you for smoking."


And thank you Uncle Sam (?)

Put a smile on...

I saw a homeless man today while I was waiting for the number three bus on Fifth Street here in Calgary. He appeared happier than most street people probably because he had a load of fresh gear. Not only did he have a nice new shiny black garbage nearly full of recyclables, but he also had two full sized hiking bags. One of these bags had "Outdoor Fun" embroidered on its face and I can honestly say that was the first thing that came to mind when he appeared out of the shadows. I wanted to ask him what he had in the bags but I obviously didn't.

"Hey there buddy! You seem to be doing alright for yourself. When I moved up to Calgary a few months back I took three bags of luggage with me. And you have two bags. Did you just move here as well sir?"

After I had this imaginary conversation, the man got down to business and started digging in the surrounding trash cans. Here in Calgary, a lot of the trash cans have a metal cover which is practically air tight. Their only purpose these covers could serve is to keep food fresh for people like my double baggin' friend here. There ain't no raccoons or squirrels downtown is there? Maybe there is but I haven’t seen any.

So after searching three garbage cans and finding nothing but a few recyclables, the man begrudgingly strutted to the fourth and final treasure hole, hoping it wasn't already plundered.

As he opened up the metal lid, I watched his already happy demeanour transform into a carriage of joy. He reached in, carefully removing any obstruction, and steadily guided his find out of the forgotten refuge.

In his hand he held a McDonald's Happy Meal, box and all! Inside this treasure chest was one third of a cheeseburger and half an order small fries.

What better way to enjoy some outdoor fun than eating a free Happy Meal in the city sun. I can't think of better way to start my morning.

But he wasn't the only one basking in his delightful meal, as I too must selfishly admit that as I was sitting there all I could think in my head was one simple phrase...



I'm lovin' it!

Cowboys are intimidating...

I went to my first rodeo today.

The Ponoka Stampede (PS) was the scene and hungover was the one common element of our crew. The PS is the final qualifying round before the Calgary Stampede so the level of competition is world class. We only caught about an hour of events and it cost $15, but I have to admit I enjoyed myself a lot more than I thought I would. I got to see about six events with bullriding being the last and most exciting. Cowboys must have a screw loose or something.

My only regret is that I didn't get to see a chuckwagon race because it started too late and we had to get back to Calgary. I am making it a priority to see these races here at the Calgary Stampede, which I'm certain is gonna kick ass.

So the rodeo was awesome, and the party the night before was probably awesome as well, but I don't really remember very much of the night. We never got to my buddies place until about 8:30 so its fair to say everyone was getting pretty trashed by the time we arrived. For some reason, my drinking powers are always out in full force when I go to Ponoka and I drank eleven of my twelve beers in record time. Luckily I didn't open the flask of Tequila I brought with me because if I did I wouldn't be writing this today, I'd be hugging a toilet. I don't know what happened when we got to the bar, but apparently my roommates were locked out of the bar banging on the window trying to get someone to let them back in. I walked out to see what they wanted and then we were all locked out. We got back in eventually because the bouncer explained to us that he was just tryna get all of the indians outta there. I don't remember any indians, and I shouldn't, because I don't remember much else.

So I blacked out as usual and really have no idea what happened from the time it got dark until I woke up in the morning. I don't even remember leaving the house and going to the bar. I don't remember my roommate Jacobs puking on someones lawn on the way home. I don't remember dropping illicit substances in the toilet. I also don't remember much from my first two weekends in Ponoka, but I've been told I passed out on the kitchen table my first party there, and I passed out on the basement floor during my second party (I remember this because I woke up on the floor fully clothed with my glasses on). On this trip, I intentionally fell asleep in the same place because all the other beds and couches were taken and I even managed to change my shirt before going to sleep. Impressive hey. When I'd open my eyes I could see red ants all over the concrete floor, but I was laying on a blanket so I figured I was safe.

What I've learned from my trips to Ponoka is that I need to be around at least four people from Deer Lake (my hometown in Newfoundland) to get on a proper rip. And three of the four should've been a part of my core group from high school. I'm still working out the math on this but so far each experiment has produced the same results: Me getting shitfaced beyond belief.


And loving it!

Don't worry... they're a democracy...

So the decision on Korea is final: I'm going to the Republic of Korea. I still don't have a contract but I have an interview with the Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education tomorrow and they will love me. I just have to make it obvious that I love them, and I know that won't be too hard.

So I've changed the ol' blog a little bit and I'll probably start a brand spanking new one when I leave the West behind.

I've also updated my myspace account (Ratchy Ratch) because I have nothing better to do here in Calgary. Fuck I'm bored.

Our landlord told us via e-mail that we cannot stay in the house we're renting for the month of August. She wants to do renovations and said it'll be easier to do with no tenants. Thanks for the notice bitch. She's a flip floppin' Albertan who wants to sell this house for $420,000 when the reality is that its a piece of shit. Well, it ain't a piece of shit but its old, it leaks, and its on a busy street. I hope it burns down when we move outta here.

The prices of real estate (and rent for that matter) is ridiculous here in Cowtown so instead I'm gonna move to one of the most expensive cities on Earth: Seoul. I've read a few lists and South Korea's capital is listed anywhere from number one to eight in terms of cost of living. I've done my research and it can cost up to $9000 (Canadian!) a month to rent a house for a family of four. Thankfully, my housing will be provided and without the ridiculous cost of rent I should be able to do ok. I'll lose a LOT less money in tax as well so my decision is made.

I look forward to living in one of the most developed and prospering nations on the globe. South Korea has everything we have and they apparently have a higher per capita rate of internet use than Canada. I'm not sure if I believe this but I've read that you cannot go 50 yeards without an Internet Bang (cafe). I'm also curious to see how an Asian democracy differs from our own. I bet they don't take any shit from their partisan opponents. I bet they're tough. I bet they fight for what they believe in.

I bet they fight.


Actually, I bet they're all fighting for that hot politician momma. Even the little old lady down in the corner wants a piece of that ass. Or she wants to shove a fist up it? Maybe that's common policy over there?


So anyways, here's my plan: I'll sell my Seoul to take a ride on the Seoul train to prove to everyone that I've got Seoul. My Seoul purpose for this Seoul searching journey is to save my Seoul.

Seoul.

And I also wanna marry a woman I can't communicate with. That would be Seoul fucking awesome!

There's no such thing as a black angel...

I'm not a racist and once again I've changed my mind regarding a major life decision. This week's plan is to go to Korea and teach English for a year. I've made it to Alberta and now I'm just about ready to leave. I don't really know if I wanna leave this place or if I'm just not ready to take a real teaching job here in good ol' Canada.

There are a few factors pulling me away from here. First of all, Calgary is way too expensive. It's okay right now because we have a sweet deal on our house because the owner is trying to sell so we have to put up with real estate agents showing the house and renovations. But when I move out of this place my living expenses are going to triple because not only is our rent dirt cheap in this house, but our phone, internet, electricity and every other bill is included in the rent.

Secondly, I don't want to teach in a little shithole of a community up North somewhere. I just sent an e-mail to turn down a job in Red Earth Creek by Loon Lake (like anyone knows where that is) and to be honest, I'm not sure if it was a great decision or not. I just know that a year up there would probably be too long, and they don't have broadband in people homes, just at the school. I need high speed internet. I hope they have it in my apartment in Korea. Time will only tell if I'm doing the right thing.

Third(ly), I was considering staying in the Calgary area and substituting in September. After I did some intensive pondering, I decided that I wouldn't make enough money to pay off my student debt, rent, pay for car insurance, etc. because Calgary is way too fuckin' expensive.

So after I thought over the above three circumstances, I sent an application to a company that recruits teachers. I talked to them last night and I have a week to decide whether I want to teach in a public school or a private one in Korea. If anyone reads this and they have any advice, please share it with me. Even this decision is making my little brain hurt.

And oh yeah, by the way, "THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A BLACK ANGEL."

(I'm not a racist and this was nothing to do with anything that most people will understand. It's an inside joke from a night when things kinda lost control. Once again, I AM NOT A RACIST, well, that is unless you consider Muslim Extremists a race. Someday I may explain the circumstances regarding these angels here on the ol' blog, but not today.)

Live at the Beaver Lodge...

I was offered my first official teaching position today.

Pukatawagan, Manitoba. Home of Sydney Castel.

This is a Cree Nation Reserve about 900 kilometres North of Winnipeg. In the 1950's there was a major diesel spill and in 1987 they realized that the ongoing health problems were a result of this accident.

The children were shipped to neighbouring communities because the school grounds were highly contaminated and a child's education cannot be sacrificed. This lead to a spike in the suicide rate amongst the youth and gangs became a problem, "recruiting and preying" on these lost souls. I'm not sure if this happened in the Puk or at the other towns but either way I don't wanna mess with no Indian gangs. No sirree.

And on top of that, this town is very isolated. More isolated than Arnold when the Governors talk politics. There's no road access until the lakes and rivers freeze over but there is just one problem. These ice roads haven't been freezing over because of all the global warming the Indians have caused to their land.

Despite this` there is one awesome thing about Pukatawagan and that's Sydney Castel and his hit the "Pukatawagan Song." If you haven't heard it you probably won't find it. A girl I work with burned it on a cd for me. She's from Manitoba and told me not to go the to Puk.

The song is obviously funny but in a very odd way. I can't really explain how unique it is. The music is pretty bad, just a cliche acoustic guitar strum with cheap MIDI backing. But the vocals... Oh the vocals how they are so special. Out of key and lacking rhythm, he manages to create a very catchy poorly phrased masterpiece that touches the heart.

Well, touches the heart on the funny bone at least.

If I don't find his album as a pirate I may actually purchase it. It'd be worth every penny. "Live at the Beaver Lodge." What a title. They also have some good novelty t-shirts going around Manitoba. A nurse told me about one shirt that said "Pukatawagn University: Puk You!"

Guess what? I want one of those too...

Will allow molestation in exchange for employment...

So I'm off to church in about 20 minutes. Yes, church.

I have to get a letter from a priest in order to teach here in the lovely province of Alberta. You see, unlike the rest of Canada, Alberta still has a Roman Catholic Public School System and in order to work for them you have to get a "Pastoral Reference." So I'm gonna give it a shot and see if they'll give me a referral on good faith. They don't know me here so I'll have to use my charm and religious wisdom to get that signature.

Or if all else fails I will offer my body and hope the priest refuses.

I'm actually starting to get butterflies in my stomach now and I'm quite nervous about approaching some religious zealot and asking for this favour. Who knows what will happen. I have a feeling I'm gonna get a lecture and then he will excommunicate me.

Fuck it though. I know I'm worthy.

Jacobs is a wide-eyed wuss...

So I got a job with the Calgary Health Region. The pay is crap and its easy work. But you know what? It fuckin’ sucks. Working is the worst form of punishment… And to think I’m being punished just because my parents aren’t rich enough to give me a six figure job doing nothing at all. That’s what I want. I want a job which involves getting fried and getting paid for it.

And the other thing about work is this… It’s like a hysterectomy of your spirit. Everything is still there but you just can’t get nothing out of it. I can’t even think of anything to write blogs about now because I got nothing on my mind at all. Nothing. I get up at six in the morning and I’m at work for eight. I get off at four-thirty and I don’t get home until six. Then I got shit to do and food to cook and clothes to wash and bills to pay and shoes to buy and a face to shave and grass to cut and automated Roger’s Wireless voices to call and student loans to pay back. I just wanna be totally absorbed in myself once again, and I want Jacobs to stop being a wuss and get back on the dope.
Come on man!! I need you!

But that’s all I can think of now. Well, I also just remembered my buddy falling into a garbage can this weekend at the bar in Ponoka. That made me forget about work. Other than that I just wanna move back to the rock and get on welfare. Fuck pogey. You gotta work too much to get that.

But on a positive note, at least we live in a world where everyone knows the lyrics to Full Moon Fever (Tom Petty’s classic album).

Librarian alert...

I’m here at the public library once again and you can only use the computers for an hour at a time. I went to talk to a librarian and I just found out that if you are “word processing” you can use the computer for two hours. I told her I was word processing so now I have an extra hour to apply for jobs etc. The only reason I am writing this is to cover my ass. You see, the librarians are constantly walking around to make sure people are not on the computers too long, and in my case, making sure that I am “word processing.” Because of my circumstances, what I write here will likely be sporadic and nonsensical.

Ok, my computer just crashed and I had some nice little rants wrote about movies, TV shows, and the UFC. I will rewrite these rants when I see a librarian coming my way.

There is an Asian girl next to me. She is hot. I’ve been told to stay away from Asians because there is always the possibility that you will get stabbed. Apparently Asian Mafia members are quite jealous. Or they listen to too much G-Unit.


Librarian alert!!! Television is awesome. Sitcoms are crap. Sitcom cartoons are the worst (besides South Park which is unmatched in being clever). Fast-paced dim-witted shows such as Futurama and The Family Guy are like a form of torture to me. It moves too fast and I just don’t get most of the humour. I probably would have enjoyed it when I was 12-14 but now I just feel too old and bitter for such stupid nonsense.

Why does everyone love the UFC? The fights are too short and way too barbaric for me personally. Boxing is much more of a gentleman’s game if I may say so. Elbows and knees to the face are things that I do not enjoy watching. But I also don’t like the fast pace of The Family Guy and I believe that this is the demographic the UFC is targeting. The average 25 year old just doesn’t have the patience to watch 12 rounds of boxing anymore. Poor pathetic souls.

What a bloody mess...

So I made it to Alberta. Been here for a little over a week now and I have my first job interview tomorrow. I think the pay is gonna be shit but its in the educational filed at least. Its a job at “Reading Town” teaching/tutoring English I think. If I get the job I’ll take it and quit when I find something better. I haven’t really sent out any resumes (well, I’ve sent out lots of resumes for teaching jobs not too many for “regular jobs”) so I’m doing all right I s’pose.

And now to the interesting part of this post...

It was Friday night and I was supposed to be at a Deftones concert but Carrie wasn’t feeling well. The company she works for has a box at the Saddledome so she had free tickets. I wouldn’t have had a way back to her place after the show so I didn’t go.

So I’m sitting home and everyone’s either not home or passed out. I’m still awake smoking hash oil (Yes! I can get oil up here!! And its real cheap!!!) and I hear a police car. It stops out in front of the house and I have a bad feeling about things. Earlier that day me and one of the girls who lives here, Janette, were talking about drinking and driving and I thought she was getting stopped right outside the house.

Then an ambulance shows up and another cop car. Now my hypothesis seems wrong so I watch out the window but there is a tree in my way and I can’t see a thing. I decided to go to bed so that I could come here (the public library) early the next morning.

When I get back from the library Brian (another roommate) asks me if I saw the blood. I didn’t.

We go outside and I look at the steps I just walked up and there are two big pools/splatters of blood. Brian says “That’s not all man, just follow the trail.”

I turn around and indeed there is a trail of blood, mostly just drops. I follow it all the way to the back entrance of the house and there is another big pool of blood on a step.

I’ll post some pics next time I’m on a “private” computer because I can’t do nothing on these public ones.

Turns out the downstairs neighbor “cut herself on a lamp.” Yeah right!? So you cut yourself and then decided to walk around outside the house and spill your blood everywhere. Maybe its how people in Calgary mark their territory or some shit?

Anyway, I got 22 minutes left on this computer and I guess I should look for some jobs. FUCK!!!

I’d rather just post bloody pics but I can’t.

And oh yeah, I saw the Rocky’s yesterday and went to Banff. It makes the Humber Valley seems like a small slope.

I’m out (pronounced boot with no "b")

Some people take things too seriously...

I've listened to metal since I was a child. A few years ago I discovered what is known as Norwegian Black Metal. Basically, its just a form of metal that is much more raw and simple, as opposed to "regular" metal which is polished and technical. These bands are mostly from Norway and the scene began in the late 80's / early 90's.

The singer of the band Mayhem killed himself. He slit his wrists and then blew his brain out with a shotgun. He called himself by the name Dead. A fellow band member Euronymous found his body in his house. Before notifying the police they went to a local store, bought a camera, and took some pictures. These photos later appeared on a bootleg album. The suicide note simply read "Excuse all the blood" which is ironic because Dead was often accused of having a sub-par sense of humour. Before leaving the suicide scene, Euronymous took some of Dead's skull and brain, which he later turned into necklaces and dinner, respectively. Mayhem are considered one of the cornerstones of the second wave of Black Metal which reached its peak in the early to mid 90's.


A short while later famous churches began being burned to the ground. Many of these were over 1000 years old and were a great pride to Norway. The band Burzum (a band consisting of one person by the name of Varg Vikernes) went so far as to put a picture of the Fantoft Stave Church on the cover of their album "Aske" (meaning 'ashes" in Norwegian).


Varg Vikernes was later accused with this church burning (and others) and many suspect that he actually took the picture after he watched the church burn. The first 1000 copies of "Aske" included a free zippo lighter bearing the same image as the record. The message was quite scary, but it fits in perfectly with the music (which is some of the most twisted, emotional, and powerful music I've ever heard).


Burzum released a few records and many other bands followed, along with more violence. Euronymous's band 'Mayhem' had nearly completed their masterpiece album "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas." Dead was supposed to sing on this album but he killed himself two years too soon, although he had all of the lyrics written. The recording was moving a snails pace but the band finished the album in 1993 with a replacement singer and they picked up Varg to play bass.

The album was about to be released when Varg killed Euronymous, who was viewed as the leader of the scene because he owned Helvete (a store in Oslo which translates "Hell") and he began Deathlike Silence Records. He was stabbed over 30 times because he owed Varg money from Burzum records. Varg later said he killed him because Euronymous wanted to have a Satanic image. To Varg, Satan was a product of Christianity and this was the greatest enemy to both Norway and Vikernes. If you want to be Satanic, you are a part of Christianity so he had to die. Varg believed in Paganisn and the old Nordic God's such as Odin, the same gods of the Vikings.

Below is a poem entitled "Aske" written by Varg Vikernes (these are not lyrics on the album, just a poem). This sums up a lot about Varg's beliefs and his motives; and also Burzum, and the whole Black Metal scene. For some reason, I can relate to this little diddy (maybe its my blond haired, blue eyed, Viking demeanor, or the fact that I've been living at home in Deer Lake for too long).

"ASKE"

That fire
Which never burns out
Which yet burns very low
Which flickers out

Yet there remains
Always beneath the ashes
Embers
Which smoulder and wait
For one to bring
Dry Twigs and wood

Red-hot embers
Dreaming of becoming
A fizzling crackling fire
Once more

And such is the fire
Burning within ourselves.
Euronymous's father, unlike myself, doesn't relate to Varg's ideation and wanted Varg's bass tracks removed from his murdered son's album. Hellhammer (Mayhem's drummer) clamed that they re-recorded the basslines but this never actually happened and you will still hear Varg's bass if you buy the album today.

Over 50 churches were burned, a few more people were murdered, and the records sold better than ever. Today, Black Metal is often referred to as Norway's biggest export. It's too bad that many of the artists who began the scene are now dead or in jail and they can't even enjoy their money.

And I know you must be asking yourself "Where's the punch line already Richard?" Well, its coming up. Below I have a link to a couple of pages that are fucking hilarious. After all of these murders the scene exploded and many people got in on the act of being wretched vile human being. Everyone soon realized that in order to sell records we have to out-do everyone else in the category of PURE FUCKIN'EVIL.

TOP 10 MOST RIDICULOUS BLACK METAL PICS OF ALL TIME

(THE OTHER)TOP 10 MOST RIDICULOUS BLACK METAL PICS OF ALL TIME

I'm not even sure if normal people will find this shit funny but I nearly pissed myself when I saw some of these pictures. I am familiar with most of the bands on the lists which could have contributed to my personal entertainment. What you have to remember about most of these pics is that these people take this shit seriously. Very seriously.

After little deliberation, I've decided I'd much rather meet up with a Gangsta Rapper than one of these guys. I'm sure gettin' shot would be a lot less painful.

That Was Hype...

Most of you have probably never heard of Joe Calzaghe or Jeff Lacy. They are both Middleweight (168 lbs.) boxers and they faced off against each other about a week ago. Both fighters were undefeated and they both have roughly a 75 percent knockout rate.

Joe Calzaghe is 33 years old and was on a streak of 17 defenses of his IBF Title before facing Lacy. He has never fought outside of his native country, England, andfor a fighter with such a long winning streak he never really got the hype he deserved, partly because he never had a defining fight although he has beaten some highly regarded fighters.

Jeff Lacy, on the other hand, is an up and coming American fighter who often gets compared to a Middleweight version of Mike Tyson. Lacy has less fights under his belt than Calzaghe has knockouts but he has extrodinairy power and he has been hyped up just as much as Lebron James. He is supposed to be the next big thing and prior to this fight he has been in Everlast ads in Ring Magazine. Jeff, like Joe, has never had a defining fight as his resume thus far is filled with average opposition (The last person Lacy fought was recently knocked out by the feather-fisted winner of The Contender).

This was viewed as a pick'em fight (meaning the odds are virtually the same on both fighters coming out victorious) and most of the "experts" were choosing Lacy by late round knockout. Well, the experts have never been more wrong. This fight was a blowout. It was on the same scale as the Gatti-Mayweather fight. Lacy never landed more than five decent punches. By the end of the third round his nose and both eyes were bleeding.


This just goes to show how boxing is such an unpredictable sport. Personally, I chose Calzaghe to win by decision (which he did) but I thought it would be a close decision. I was wrong. I'd seen some fights by both fighters and I knew that Calzaghe was highly skilled and extremely quick and I knew Lacy was a street fighter with little defence but a ton of heart. Calzaghe had dropped out of fights in the past citing an injured hand as his reason for backing out and many boxing people thought he was using his hand as an excuse to avoid certain fights. Well, they were all wrong too.

After laying a beating on Lacy and knocking him down for the first time in his career, Calzaghe admitted that he did injure his hand a few weeks before the fight. He knew he needed to fight Lacy right now or he may never get a chance to fight him again. So Calzaghe sucked it up and dominated Lacy with a sore hand (he said it began to hurt in the 8th round) making the American look like an amateur.


Hopefully Calzaghe will unify the title and avoid a quick payday by fighting a washed up Roy Jones Jr. or a boring Antonio Tarver. He shouldn't care about getting richer because he's rich enough (and he never even had to move to Alberta). There comes a time when glory should overpower every other urge. Let's hope Joe strives to be glorious.

I Need to be Reassured...

Does anyone actually read the crap I write here?? If you do leave a comment or some type of sign that its being read. I have low self-esteem and I need to be appreciated...

Well, to be truthfull I'm thinking about covering this site in Goooooogle Ads and tryna make a little cash. Comprende? I had a friend who made 34 cents last month!

Yes, I Think Your Province Sucks...

So the theme of this blog was supposed to be my attempt at figuring out a way to get rich. I will be the first to admit that this is actually the poorest I've ever been. I have to borrow money from my 17 year old brother fairly regularly and my only source of income is a tutoring gig for two hours a week.

But I did take the first step in the right direction a few days ago when I bought a plane ticket to Vancouver (Vancouver you ask? Well, no... It isn't in Alberta... So yes... I probably won't be getting rich anytime soon... But it is right next door to Alberta so I am getting closer to the pot of gold).

So I buy the ticket and then a friend of mine unexpectedly shows up in Deer Lake (my temporary/permanent address) the next day and tells me that she is now a flight attendant with buddy passes. She gets 16 more of these passes next month so she says I can have a pass which will get me as far as Calgary (which is in Alberta) for FREE!?

So I spend 500 bucks and the next fuckin' day someone offers me a free ticket out West. Just my luck (Yes, I will take the free ticket and keep the $500 credit with Air Canada for a future move).

So that's that and here's this...

Somewhere during the last year I had the idea of making up a t-shirt for each Province of Canada. I never did get this finished but I will show you what has been completed thus far. And I am sure that if someone would invest in this enterprise we could both become rich men (a woman would know better than to come anywhere near this).

First, the best Province in Canada: Newfoundland (Fuck Labrador!!)


This shirt is for the Newfy who is sick and tired of voting Liberal just because his/her parents do. But it is not for hippies who would vote NDP. These hippies would probably dig real deep and find a way to be offended by this shirt. Just because it was created by a pure blond-haired blue-eyed elitist should have nothing to do with this.
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The next shirt speaks totally for itself (for those non-Canadians out there, Quebec is a French Province full of artsy fartsy queers).


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Next, we have Nova Scotia. I couldn't really think of anything interesting to say about Nova Scotia so I just picked one county or region or whatever you call it.


Okay, so Cape Bretoners think they are the shit. As a Newf, I know that they are just shit. If they think they are so cool why don't they just seperate from Nova Scotia and become their own Province. Then Newfoundland and Cape Breton can have a game of curling to settle the dispute of what Province is the best.
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And finally we come to Alberta!!! Now, this shirt was designed before I knew I wanted to be rich so keep that in mind before judging my motives and message.

So ask yourself "Who do people hate?" Yup, that's right, we hate anyone who is better or wealthier than ourselves. Ontario used to be the most deadly Province in Canada but now its Alberta so its time to change hate. Simple really.
So someone step forth and buy these shirt designs because if I catch you scamming my resources (i.e. my shirt designs) I'll do what a Newf typically does when getting ripped off by Canadian slimebags: Absolutely nothing!!!!

I never really liked ...

I was always a fan of The Rolling Stones. They rock, they party, and they aren't a bunch of whiners (I hope you noted that I was using the present tense). The Beatles, on the other hand, never really appealed to me. Ringo seems like he might be semi-retarded, John married Yoko Ono (need I say more?) and did that thing where they stayed in the hotel room in Canada somewhere protesting some hippy bullshit, and I couldn't tell you a thing about that Harrison dude.

But I never really had a problem with Paul McCartney. He just kind of seemed a bit dumb to me and he managed to offset the weirdness that was John Lennon. My father was a fan of his and said Paul's concert was one of the best he's ever seen. There are even a few posters from that show downstairs in the bar/basement. I knew he was married to some chicky who had issues with stuff like the environment blah blah blah but I thought she died and that phase of his life was over with. But I find out last night that he has found a new activist-beauty-model-wife by the name of Heather Mills. Let me begin by saying that she is a rude bitch.

This past week Paul and Acti-Wife came to Eastern Canada to go touch some baby seals and protest against the "brutal practice" that is the seal hunt. Then I found out they were going on Larry King Live and Danny Williams (the Premiere of my home Province, Newfoundland) would be a guest on the show to rebut the two. For those of you that don't know, Mr. Williams (this is how he should be addressed: MISTER WILLIAMS) is a self-made millionaire who owned and sold Cable Atlantic to the Rogers Company.


Sir Paul and Acti-Wife would not let Mr. Williams get a word in on teh larry King show. They just kept interrupting him bringing up the same points that they had already drove into the ground. "These seals have no defense... This practice is inhumane... These lil seals haven't even had a chance to go for a swim (this point was brought up at least half-a-dozen times)... Its a cruel practice... I'm pussy whipped by my wife here... I just married Paul so I could make my voice heard all around the world... I love seals... I want to get a sealplasty..."


Mr. Williams (who was so rudely addressed as "Danny" by everyone on the set) was visibly irritated by their hogwash and brought up some interesting points, my favorite being that PETA and Greenpeace may have ties to terrorism!! Go Danny!!! He then invited Paul and Hater Mills to come to his offices in Newfoundland to see documentaries and other evidence that would promote the seal hunt. Sir Paul, being the dumb man he is, said "Danny, we are in Newfoundland." No Pauly, you were in P.E.I. Now, I know that they are both islands but they aren't the same fuckin place. We aren't on Easter Island paul. We aren't on Long Island either Paul. All islands aren't the same place. Understand?? Mr. Williams, unlike myself, pointed this out in the most polite manner possible.

Throughout the show I didn't really know what Larry thought about all of this and he just seemed to make sure that Acti-Wife got in the last word and he let her ramble on but was quick to cut off Mr. Willaims. But now that I think about it, Mr. Williams was being polite and he'd shut up when asked to shut up but Miss Mills isn't used to being told what to do and she just could not voluntarily shut her own mouth. She only knows how to shut other people's mouths by not giving them a chance to get a word in.

I must admit I spent most of the show in agony, not because of the seal slaughter videos, but because I was so frustrated with Mr. Williams being silenced. The best comparison I can make is to watching the 2006 NBA slam dunk contest. The short-ass dude who won it this year just kept attempting a dunk that he couldn't make. He must have tried it about 15-20 times and I was watching in agony as he missed and missed and missed and missed. If he made the dunk the first time it would have been awesome but he didn't. And with every extra attempt it just became more painful to me. So eventually he compromised and did another dunk and I didn't have to pull the rest of the hair out of my head. This was the exact same feeling I got when Hater Mills wouldn't let Mr. Williams get a word in. But the difference is that she never did make her dunk, she just kept attempting it and missing and missing and missing and I was left to just sit there and watch her try again and again. She kept repeating the same points giving me nothing new to ponder. No, I don't care if a seal is dead before it ever gets a chance to swim!?! I haven't been swimming in over two years myself! Can somebody please throw me in a friggin' pool!!?! I need to be saved!!!


Anyways, I'm starting to get hungry now. So before I end this post I'd just like to tell you about a friend of mine who is 24 years old and has been out on the ice pans seal harvesting. He said it was one of the most fun things he ever did. There are seals everywhere and its almost like a sport or a game (you know that game at the carnival where you have to bomp the heads with a hammer when they pop up through a hole and if you're good enough you can win your girl a prize). But ulike the carnival its also very hard and dangerous work (my friend had an uncle who died out on the ice pans) and its a job that many people could not do without. People need to feed their families and unlike Paul, losing income of a few thousand dollars each year would have quite an impact.

So I'd like to conclude by saying that Mr. Williams was correct in saying that Paul and Acti-Wife are simply being used by mega-corporations. It just so happens that the corporations in question have the disguise of being animal rights groups (PETA, Greenpeace). If Paul and Heather really wanted to make a global difference on the international stage they would find a much more important issue to bitch about (AIDS in Africa, polygamy among fundementalists Mormons involving the rapes of 13 year old girls , drug problems among children, pollution, fossil fuel consumption, rascism, slavery, child smuggling, etc).

I think Paul and Heather should jump in their Yellow Submarine with Rocky the Raccon, Blackbird, Doctor Robert, Eleanor Rigby, the Walrus, Mean Mr. Mustard, a few Piggies, Polythene Pam, and Sgt. Pepper. Then they should go on a journey and try not to drown in the Sour Sea next to the Octopus's Garden.


And yes, Canada (and in particular Newfoundland) still fucking rules no matter what a couple of British pussies have to say about us. Go kick a soccer... I mean football around and make sure you don't get hurt.

And rememeber, club seals not sandwiches.

Your face is fucked...

I wish I started boxing when I was a child. Maybe I could have become rich from fighting. Maybe I'd have a solid fucking chin. Or maybe this would happen...


This is a photo of Fernando Vargas from his saturday-night fight verses Shane Mosley. Mosley hasn't knocked anyone out in over five years and he was fighting at Jr. Middleweight (154) and he used to be a Lightweight. Vargas has always fought at Jr. Middleweight.

I don't know what the fuck happened to his face either. After the first round it was beginning to swell and Mosley never hit him with anything that should do that to his face. After the swell began Mosley just kept at it and eventually the fight was stopped and there was really no other choice. I would love to see a rematch but Shane says he's moving back to Welterweight (147).

I think Vargas was actually in tears after the loss (well, the tears were coming from one eye) because he wasn't hurt throughout and the loss was only down by one round when the fight was stopped in the tenth. The boy just ain't got no luck. I missed the postfight interview and it greatly saddens me. Its too bad he couldn't finish. the doctors couldn't even open his eye to shine a light in there. Jesus Christ.


Fernando should get some better corner men or something.