Oh man. I am sitting it my room right now. It's Monday night at 11:45pm. A baby or young child of some sort is crying in the apartment below me. I gotta tell you: it's breaking my heart. The sound of a child in distress can transcend cultural/linguistic/national borders. It's pure. It's terrible.
Christ. I can't stand it. It sounds like this kid is crying his eyes out. I know, sometimes a child can be stubborn and outright wrong. I was that way until the age of 21. But dammit, cut 'em some slack. This kid is wailing. Oh man. This is really effecting me. I kind of want it to stop, but at the same time I am thinking "Keep going kid!"
Oh hell. I don't know what I am saying. I just want him/her/it to stop...
Wait. It stopped. Ok. I am going to sleep. Hang in there kid.
-Matt
Monday, January 28, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
They're Grrrreat!
I awoke this morning for one reason:
Breakfast cereal.
I just got a new cereal, and let me tell you, the sun is shining bright in central France. In all honesty, I haven't eaten cereal in many years. Throughout college I got into the habit of a solid nutritious breakfast of eggs, toast, yogourt, etc. Cereal was a part of my past. It was childish. I would be ashamed. Not to mention, the selection was abysmal: either bible-thin flakes dunked in crack or goat-poop chocolate balls that left minute lacerations on my tongue. Um, no. I'll pass thankyouverymuch.
Until now! I found a cereal here that is manly. Thick flakes... no, "flakes" will not do. Women eat flakes... ah yes, CHIPS. Much more manly. Thick chips covered in oats, grains, and corn. The things that men eat. The staples in the hearty diet of every lumberjack. Chips so thick that it sounds like I am eating shards of broken glass. In fact, I put shards of glass in the bowl because I am so manly. I can take it. Look at me. One hundred and sixty pounds of man, wood, grain, and sex.
What is the name of this Valhalla of Vitality, this Elysium of Extacy, this Heaven of Heterosexuality?
Nestle's Fitness: For the Line, For the Form.
On the front of the box is a the outline of a woman and an unnecessarily magnified picture of the cereal on a silver spoon. There are many varieties, including chocolate, cappoccino, and normal, but I chose multi-grain.
Fitness is one of those cereals that is marketed towards women, kind of like Special K (though Special K is also available). What I love is that there is absolutely nothing in this cereal that is especially women-friendly. It's cereal for Darwin's sake! Damn those marketeers and their good ideas. Now men across the planet who are looking for a cereal that is high in fiber, low in sugar, and not Wheaties (I hate Wheaties for the above mentioned reason that they are so thin that the cereal transforms into a brown paste in five minutes, not to mention the agony of trying to fish for the last few flakes in the bowl. At that point, my only motivation is clearing the bowl of debris, as the pay-off is certainly not the flavor) must go for the cereals marketed towards women. What does this mean? Do the marketeers think that women are smarter and healthier than men?
Eh, they're probably right.
-Matt
Breakfast cereal.
I just got a new cereal, and let me tell you, the sun is shining bright in central France. In all honesty, I haven't eaten cereal in many years. Throughout college I got into the habit of a solid nutritious breakfast of eggs, toast, yogourt, etc. Cereal was a part of my past. It was childish. I would be ashamed. Not to mention, the selection was abysmal: either bible-thin flakes dunked in crack or goat-poop chocolate balls that left minute lacerations on my tongue. Um, no. I'll pass thankyouverymuch.
Until now! I found a cereal here that is manly. Thick flakes... no, "flakes" will not do. Women eat flakes... ah yes, CHIPS. Much more manly. Thick chips covered in oats, grains, and corn. The things that men eat. The staples in the hearty diet of every lumberjack. Chips so thick that it sounds like I am eating shards of broken glass. In fact, I put shards of glass in the bowl because I am so manly. I can take it. Look at me. One hundred and sixty pounds of man, wood, grain, and sex.
What is the name of this Valhalla of Vitality, this Elysium of Extacy, this Heaven of Heterosexuality?
Nestle's Fitness: For the Line, For the Form.
On the front of the box is a the outline of a woman and an unnecessarily magnified picture of the cereal on a silver spoon. There are many varieties, including chocolate, cappoccino, and normal, but I chose multi-grain.
Fitness is one of those cereals that is marketed towards women, kind of like Special K (though Special K is also available). What I love is that there is absolutely nothing in this cereal that is especially women-friendly. It's cereal for Darwin's sake! Damn those marketeers and their good ideas. Now men across the planet who are looking for a cereal that is high in fiber, low in sugar, and not Wheaties (I hate Wheaties for the above mentioned reason that they are so thin that the cereal transforms into a brown paste in five minutes, not to mention the agony of trying to fish for the last few flakes in the bowl. At that point, my only motivation is clearing the bowl of debris, as the pay-off is certainly not the flavor) must go for the cereals marketed towards women. What does this mean? Do the marketeers think that women are smarter and healthier than men?
Eh, they're probably right.
-Matt
Friday, January 25, 2008
Fatigue
Dude. I am tired. Work has kept me quite busy recently. Deliveries, interviews, tours, problems, pub crawls. I need a vacation. But by tomorrow, most of it will be done. So, no post today, but tomorrow you can learn about how I overheard a drug deal at a cafe and the other random goings-on.
Until then,
Matt
Until then,
Matt
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Monday, January 21, 2008
To Pee or Not To Pee
So I was peeing just a few seconds ago and I realized something: I am very self-conscious of the audible volume of my pee. Allow me to explain: When a dude is peeing, he has to aim his pee-stream. It's only natural and completely understandable. But where to direct the stream?
Option number 1: You can aim for the porcelain interior of the bowl (not in the water), thereby dulling the pee-sounds. But then people will be like "Dude, what's with that guy? I can't even hear him! He went inside to pee and I can't hear him. Is he even peeing? He must have a serious problem. Either he must have big prostate or a small wee wee. Let's not socially interact with him."
Option number 2: You can pee at the edge of the water. This produces a higher pitched pee-sound, but this can again be misinterpreted. Let's be honest, everybody can hear me pee. If I choose option 2, they will think I am a sissy with my falsetto pee-sound.
No, I choose option 3: Pee in the middle of the bowl, right into the water where it is deepest (meaning it is right into the pipe that takes the pee to the cesspool). In order to pull off an option 3, a dude needs balls. He needs moxy. He needs gusto. It takes a great deal of confidence to pee here, as everybody can hear you. You must be proud to say "Yes, listen to me pee. It is a solid stream and I am proud of it. I have a deep sexy baritone pee-voice." And who even knew that pee-voice's existed! You do, most righteous reader. You do.
-Matt
Option number 1: You can aim for the porcelain interior of the bowl (not in the water), thereby dulling the pee-sounds. But then people will be like "Dude, what's with that guy? I can't even hear him! He went inside to pee and I can't hear him. Is he even peeing? He must have a serious problem. Either he must have big prostate or a small wee wee. Let's not socially interact with him."
Option number 2: You can pee at the edge of the water. This produces a higher pitched pee-sound, but this can again be misinterpreted. Let's be honest, everybody can hear me pee. If I choose option 2, they will think I am a sissy with my falsetto pee-sound.
No, I choose option 3: Pee in the middle of the bowl, right into the water where it is deepest (meaning it is right into the pipe that takes the pee to the cesspool). In order to pull off an option 3, a dude needs balls. He needs moxy. He needs gusto. It takes a great deal of confidence to pee here, as everybody can hear you. You must be proud to say "Yes, listen to me pee. It is a solid stream and I am proud of it. I have a deep sexy baritone pee-voice." And who even knew that pee-voice's existed! You do, most righteous reader. You do.
-Matt
Miss Information
Right when I finished my previous post, I go back to CNN.com for some last minute browsing (even though the writing is terrible and filled with errers. Why cant they even spell corectly?).
The Headline reads: Thousands pay respect to Hillary
Wow. If this was important enough to be ranked under the Top Stories section, this must mean that Hillary is pulling ahead of Obama. Dammit. Let's read the article and find out what happened!:
AUCKLAND, New Zealand (AP) -- Thousands of New Zealanders filed solemnly past the casket of Mount Everest conqueror Sir Edmund Hillary on Monday as they paid final respects a day ahead of his state funeral.
You've got to be kidding me. Kudos to the guy, as I don't think it gets any more bad-ass than climbing Mt. Everest... but come on. Talk about mis-leading information. I think we could use a credible source now for some closing comments. Eh, fuck it, let's ask this guy on the street (I quote):
"He was a great man of the last century," said Jagpal Kang, 56, an Auckland taxi driver.
Thanks Jagpal. You're a real pal.
-Matt
The Headline reads: Thousands pay respect to Hillary
Wow. If this was important enough to be ranked under the Top Stories section, this must mean that Hillary is pulling ahead of Obama. Dammit. Let's read the article and find out what happened!:
AUCKLAND, New Zealand (AP) -- Thousands of New Zealanders filed solemnly past the casket of Mount Everest conqueror Sir Edmund Hillary on Monday as they paid final respects a day ahead of his state funeral.
You've got to be kidding me. Kudos to the guy, as I don't think it gets any more bad-ass than climbing Mt. Everest... but come on. Talk about mis-leading information. I think we could use a credible source now for some closing comments. Eh, fuck it, let's ask this guy on the street (I quote):
"He was a great man of the last century," said Jagpal Kang, 56, an Auckland taxi driver.
Thanks Jagpal. You're a real pal.
-Matt
Nom de Guerre
http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/01/21/liberia.general.ap/index.html
Headline reads: "Ex-Warlord confesses to 20,000 deaths".
Scary stuff. Curiosity seizes my fingertips as I click the hyperlink. Scanning the article, I stop, blink a few times, scratch my head, and return to the first sentence. It reads as follows:
MONROVIA, Liberia (AP) -- One of Liberia's most notorious rebel commanders, known as Gen. Butt Naked, has returned to the nation his troops terrorized to confess, saying he is responsible for 20,000 deaths.
His name is Gen. Butt Naked. Honestly, if I was looking to strike fear into the hearts (or stir the bowels) of my enemies with a kick-ass name, "butt naked" would be towards the bare-bottom of my list. Right there alongside Sgt. Snowflakes and Captain Pussy Willow (that was Snoop's name before he hit it big). Dude, if I had to give myself a worthless rank and change my name I think I would choose either:
1. General Piledriver
2. Rear Admiral Ass Kicker
3. Sgt. Slaughter (dammit, that one is already taken...)
4. Captain Big Guns
5. Col. Fuck Off
Is it just my imagination, or can all of those be porn movies as well? Huh.
But in all fairness, Gen. Butt Naked's name derived from "sending troops into battle naked to terrorize enemy." Well, does Mr. Naked have something he'd like to share with the rest of the class? He insists on personal control of thousands of naked screaming men? Oh really?? If I lived in a small village, I don't think I would be any more terrorized by naked soldiers compared to fully clothed ones. In fact, quite the opposite. Clothed soldiers can wear scary uniforms and cheap sunglasses circa 1983. But naked soldiers? Dude. I think Mr. Naked is trying to reach out to us.
Reading along:
"Drugged fighters waltzed into battle wearing women's wigs, flowing gowns and carrying dainty purses stolen from civilians."
You've got to be kidding me. Did they also have Liza Minelli playing over the loudspeakers?
And what's with the adjective "waltzed"? Well, if you ask me, it's pretty tough to waltze into battle. I doubt they mean that literally, as waltzing is hard enough (and a tad antiquated), never mind being simultaneously drugged up.
Wait... how can his troops be naked but also wear flowing gowns? Damn you CNN!
-Matt
Headline reads: "Ex-Warlord confesses to 20,000 deaths".
Scary stuff. Curiosity seizes my fingertips as I click the hyperlink. Scanning the article, I stop, blink a few times, scratch my head, and return to the first sentence. It reads as follows:
MONROVIA, Liberia (AP) -- One of Liberia's most notorious rebel commanders, known as Gen. Butt Naked, has returned to the nation his troops terrorized to confess, saying he is responsible for 20,000 deaths.
His name is Gen. Butt Naked. Honestly, if I was looking to strike fear into the hearts (or stir the bowels) of my enemies with a kick-ass name, "butt naked" would be towards the bare-bottom of my list. Right there alongside Sgt. Snowflakes and Captain Pussy Willow (that was Snoop's name before he hit it big). Dude, if I had to give myself a worthless rank and change my name I think I would choose either:
1. General Piledriver
2. Rear Admiral Ass Kicker
3. Sgt. Slaughter (dammit, that one is already taken...)
4. Captain Big Guns
5. Col. Fuck Off
Is it just my imagination, or can all of those be porn movies as well? Huh.
But in all fairness, Gen. Butt Naked's name derived from "sending troops into battle naked to terrorize enemy." Well, does Mr. Naked have something he'd like to share with the rest of the class? He insists on personal control of thousands of naked screaming men? Oh really?? If I lived in a small village, I don't think I would be any more terrorized by naked soldiers compared to fully clothed ones. In fact, quite the opposite. Clothed soldiers can wear scary uniforms and cheap sunglasses circa 1983. But naked soldiers? Dude. I think Mr. Naked is trying to reach out to us.
Reading along:
"Drugged fighters waltzed into battle wearing women's wigs, flowing gowns and carrying dainty purses stolen from civilians."
You've got to be kidding me. Did they also have Liza Minelli playing over the loudspeakers?
And what's with the adjective "waltzed"? Well, if you ask me, it's pretty tough to waltze into battle. I doubt they mean that literally, as waltzing is hard enough (and a tad antiquated), never mind being simultaneously drugged up.
Wait... how can his troops be naked but also wear flowing gowns? Damn you CNN!
-Matt
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