oh oh..

Damn... its Dec 30th and I havent posted in almost 1.5 months. Which I guess is pretty much par for the course. Ive got to be the laziest blogger of all time. No wonder why only 3 people read this.

I will be posting (belatedly) about the photography course I just took in Nov. (Noli got to take pictures of models, so Noli was nervous as shit) and the Tragically Hip concert in Dublin in early Dec. this will all happen... it will! One of them Im almost done writing even, it just requires me adding photos.

Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas, and enjoy your New Year. Id actually finish off those posts now, but Ive got to catch a ferry to stupid Victoria, and spend New Years there, playing videogames. And Yes I just turned 25 years old. Thank you Thank you..

n.

Thierry Henry

Ireland today was a state of vitriol and anger. Well mostly that, but also combined with nationwide sadness and depression. Not a happy place today, I have to say. The reason is: Ireland last night lost to France 2-1 on aggregate, for World Cup qualifying, and therefore are not going to the World Cup, whereas France is. And its not that they lost, but the way they lost. It has been all over the news here in Ireland, but also probably France, maybe the UK and the rest of Europe as well. What happened was, France pretty much cheated to win. And the Ref didnt catch it. Theirry Henry, one of my favorite soccer players by the way, batted down a pass with his hand down to his feet, then passed over to Gallas for a wide open header and consequently the winning goal. Youtube it, youll see what Im talking about. Soccer is not Volleyball, or pattycakes, its called football for a reason, you're not allowed to use your hands. And here, in this situation, in probably the biggest and most important gamer either team has had in the last 1.5 years, the result was decided by a crystal clear rules violation. And now Ireland as a country is livid.

Heres the fascinating thing though, my insider perspective from the Republic: the Irish for some reason love suffering, and they are going to eat this shit up and hold on to it forever. Its how they do, they love to complain, and all Irish will completely admit it as well. A little bit of a background, the national soccer team has taken a beating over the last, oh, I dont know, maybe 4 years. Once highly favored within the country from 1990 to 2004 , the general public has fallen out with the team lately because of mismanagement, poor results, and what seems like the depletion of the decent talent they once possessed over the early part of the decade. They were not good anymore, playing terrible soccer, and missing out on qualifying for the last Worldcup and the last two European Cups. Thats 3 international tournaments in a row in which the Irish were outsiders looking in. And after a head coaching / manager debacle two years ago, this team was in complete shambles, and the nation lost interest. A majority of the team were young unknowns, and most of their best players were only maybe rated 'midranged' in the domestic leagues. No upper tier Lebron James or Peyton Mannings. It was mostly at best one or two Lamar Odom types, and then another few other 3rd line, off the bench type guys: the Jordan Farmars and Scotty Walkers. Then the rest were young and unproven. Basically you were not going to be intimidating any opponents with a team lead by one or two Odoms, and the rest utility guys.

They hired a new manager in 2008 though for the start of World Cup Qualifying; an Italian manager that spoke limited English, Giovanni Trapattoni. Personally, I think anyone name Giovanni is dead cool to begin with. Trapattoni was the former manager of the Italian National Team, along with powerhouse clubs Inter Milan, AC Milan, Juventus and Bayern Munich. Although he was old, 69 when he joined, he had a decent and proven track record, unlike the hopeless guy he replaced, local Dundalk boy Steve Staunton, who knew shit all about dick, figuratively speaking. He took this 2nd rate team, grooming and molding it to play a style to best suit its limited talent, and proceeded to go undefeated in World Cup Qualifying over the last year and half, finally earning a playoff against France for a spot in South Africa 2010. Along the way the Irish as a Nation started falling for the team again. They turned themselves into a hard working, nose to the grindstone, sum is greater than its parts (or any other cliche you can think of) type team, that no other country enjoyed playing against. And they hadn't lost. Not until this France match. So the country is understandably heartbroken and disgusted at the same time. They played well against France, a team with 3 times the talent the Irish had, and also a finalist in the last World Cup in Germany. They played so good, no one could argue that they did not deserved the win against a much better team on paper, this would probably even include any of the French press. But they still lost at the end of the day, in the worst way possible, complete controversy. Thierry Henry even felt bad, admitting to it, somewhat. Some, in an ode to Diego Maradonna, coined the whole thing 'the Hand of Frog'. He is now public enemy number #1. Personally I think, Dont hate the player, Dont hate the game, Dont even hate the coach... hate the Ref.

Even the Irish government got involved today, making calls to UEFA and FIFA, the governing bodies of Football within Europe, and Internationally, respectively. The Taoiseach (Gaelic Irish for the equivalent of Prime Minister, Head of Govermnent, pronounced TEE-shock. I know, dont get me started with pronounciations in Gaelic, its not logical, and definitely is not how I would of pronounced it) was desperately plea-ing for a replay. Deep down, the country, stuck in a terrible and debilitating recession, needed good news, needed something, anything to cheer about. The country needed a boost, and were relying on the Irish Soccer team to provide that, to provide unity, because to be honest there is nothing else to keep National pride up right now. Apart from a pretty good Rugby team at the moment, the overachieving soccer team potentially playing in the World Cup was the only other bright light they got. And it was taken away on an illegal ball slap.

It will be days, weeks, months, possibly years before the Irish will let this go. It hurt too much, and the Irish love wallowing in self woe. I was pretty devastate myself. Although I openly cheered against the Irish team when first got here, out of spite mostly, I did start slowly liking and then devoting myself to the team, especially once Trapattoni took over, theres just something about Italian accents, maybe. Also everyone loves the hard luck underdog. Surprisingly I didnt even watch the match though. I, instead, was in a photography studio taking pictures of a couple models. Umm, I guess Ill save that for another post..

Eva Mendes

So good... soo soo good. I had to share. People in Canada and US will not get this commercial.. so I share.. The moral of the story at the end of the day: Boys are silly.

Second post today! This never happens. There must be a blue moon tonight or something.

Best source for Canuck Nicknames

Marty started another email thread, dealing with the making up of cool nicknames for the Canucks. Apparently there was an article in the 24H Vancouver Newspaper which instigated it all. But did not want to reproduce the laziness of the common "Nazzy" "Kes" or "Big Bert". We wanted to come up with good ones.

Together he and I made up this list.

Daniel Mary Kate Sedin, Henrik Ashley Sedin - or is it the other way around?
Andrew Manta Raycroft - could of went Sting instead, but then there might be some confusion with the Police
Perry Mason Everybody Loves Raymond - it works so many ways.. but better both ways..
Aaron Rome if you want to - B52s! The song can play every time he hits! or scores.. or skates really fast..
No Shane No Gain O'Brien
Alexandre 'the Decent' Burrows or Alexandre 'the Not too shabby' Burrows
Kyle Wellwood you go out with me?
Tanner Plexi Glass
Ryan Coke Kesler - too bad there are no Jacks on this team.
Ryan Ginger Johnson - yes we are alcoholics. Im drinking Jameson as I type this. It keeps me so warm inside.
Alexander Edler on the Roof
Free Willie Mitchell - not because hes a whale, but there is one on his chest
Christian Don't Hassel the Ehrhoff - Michael Knight / Mitch Buchanan references never tire.
Sergei Shirokov Drops - the prescription is more shirokov drops
Sami Franken-Salo - because hes always stitched up
Jannik Marmaduke Hansen - the Great Dane
Roberto Hasta Luongo - its over, see ya later
Rick Rypiens Believe it or Not
Steve Slash and Bernier
Michael M40 Grabner
Darcy DH Hordichuk - How fitting?... In the line-up to hit only.
Mathieu 12 pack of Schnieder Wieners
Kevin Bacon Bieksa
Mikael Play it Again Sam-uelsson

Go Canucks Go!

Somtime when we touch..

This is the best ever... sounds exactly like my dad and everyone of my relatives, uncles, friends of family in front of living room with a magic mic karaoke. And by exactly I mean, spot on, same pitch exactly, right down to the the facial expressions on the high notes and to mumbly parts where you get lost between either not knowing the words well enough or just singing in a pinoy accent. Welcome to every party ever held at my house! Only flaw I saw, he didnt close his eyes enough while singing... but still, we are splitting hairs. Manny's score: 100 out of 100. This is my proudest post of all time.

Empire State of Mind

Lets chill with John Legend for a second..



Now are you thinking what Im thinking? Yeah I know! Thats a freakin dope jacket right? I love that Jacket. I want that Jacket. And the ever so lovely and completely perfect Alicia Keys singing in the background, too... to start off some World Series game 2, or whatever. South Bronx.. If you love it, Honks...

I was actually going to use Empire State of Mind as the soundtrack for that midnight video I did, cuz it rocks completely, totally and utterly. Walk around any NYC street with Empire State of Mind surrounding your ears, and its like a drug, it completely transforms the experience into something... better. Youll be hardpressed resisting the need to sway to the song. ESPECIALLY during Alicia's fabulously unreal chorus. She absolutely KILLS it in this song. I repeat, KILLS it. Kay Eye Double-L Es. Its a love song for the city at its simpliest; well done Mr. Zed and Ms. Keys. Well mostly Alicia. And she is perfect. Did I mention that? Well she is. Song of the Year.



However I wasnt listening to Jay Zed & Alicia at the time, I was listening to Passion Pit, so Passion Pit wins.

Too bad the Yankees had to be involved. I wouldnt of minded if it was the Mets...

You're just another part of me.

Michael Jackson sung that. Its about right too, because he'd been getting rid of parts of himself, especially around his nose, chin and cheeks, for the last 3 decades. Have you ever had plastic surgery? I now have, this past Wednesday. I removed the last reminants of my conjoined twin.

And for this Halloween, I might as well be Frankenstein, because the lumpy stitch job on my 'Plastic Surgery' scar is no eye candy, let me tell you. So heres the story, although most people would of known this, or seen it on my hand, and been grossed out by but not mentioned it out of politeness. Ive had a bump on the back of my left hand since before I can remember. It was excellent as a kid because I had an easy time distinguishing from left and right: The left had the bump. The right, had no bump. If only I had some other cheat for learning how to tie my shoe laces, and remember my phone number and address when I was 4-5, Id probably had been moved into the more advanced class of Kindergarten, instead of the ESL class because I was too shy to talk. Also, as a kid, it was what distinguished me, along with the aggressive eczema on my fingers. It was a conversation piece, classmates and teachers and relatives talked about it, so in a way it made me feel kinda special. As a kid anyways, despite the fact that it made me look slightly mutated.

Although Ive never known exactly what it was, there has been more than a few opinions. Dr. MacDonald, my GP growing up, said it was an infantile hemangioma, a tumorous collection of blood vessels, kind of like a birthmark, and that it was harmless and would eventually go away. The specialist my mom took me to when I was 9 or so said pretty much the same thing; they could of removed it, but its benign and would most likely disappear as I grew older. My Aunt had opined it was a Ganglion Cyst, a growth full of fluid normally found near joints. Adam thought that was the case too. No matter what it was, it was always there, and in a way, even though i jest, it did feel like a conjoined twin, like its brain or heart that was stuck on my hand, and had been growing with me as I grew. It never went away though, as some people predicted. It grew smaller during high school and university, but became big again in the last 5-7 years. So when I finally decided to remove it, there was a shade of remorse. Just a shade, but remorse nonetheless.

The funny thing is, I fully expected that the process would be like Nip/Tuck, the TV Show: elaborate, colorful and high end. This experience, however, kinda felt like going to the dentist instead. The Plastic Surgeon, Mr. Lawlor, did the surgery in his quaint clinic, and didn't even dawn O.R. scrubs or full surgery apron. Instead he kept his shirt and tie on, rolled up his sleeves, and put on a plastic apron, as if he was about to eat Ribs or Lobster at a restaurant. Like really? Just a plastic apron that are like the same stuff garbage bags are made of? It became serious though when he grabbed my hand, lied me down and drew with a sharpie, a dotted outline on my skin of what he was going to cut; kinda like on tv, when the plastic surgeon draws on the fat folds of the breast as a visual outline before doing the boob job. Then of course, he proceeded to repeated jab a needle of local anesthetic into my conjoined twin. 5 or 6 times, all the way around! Like really really Deep! I couldnt look, but of course I did, and it hurt every single time, except maybe by the 6th, when I was mostly numb by then. Now this is where I had to decide, should I watch him work away on my hand during Surgery? Or just look away the whole entire time? I wasnt too sure if I could handle watching surgery on myself. Now watching surgery on someone else was never a problem, but surgery on me? I didnt want to end up puking on Mr. Lawlors plastic bib too.

I seemed to be fine though, if I just took quick glances in moderation and looked away quickly afterwards. When I did glance, it looked like it was a shot gun wound, with blood everywhere, and he had to constantly use a bipolar to cauterize, which looked funny and smelled funny, because smoke would billow up then from the burning of my innards. (I hope Im not making you sick by describing this. If I am, dont even bother look at the pictures below then.. lol) There was alot of scalpel work going on too, although I could not feel any pain, I could feel the cutting, as if someone where cutting into a fish, and trying to seperate the bones, that kind of way.

Then he finally showed me, after 20 minutes of delicately cutting it out. It was the size of a nut, and looked like the heart of a mouse ( not that Ive ever seen a mouse heart, but if I ever did, I figured itd look exactly like what came out of my hand). So there it was, my conjoined twin, finally removed. And it was after all a Hemangioma of some sort, so Adam and his first year med. school diagnosis was a little off. If it was a cyst, it would be a sac of fluid and puss. So glad its not that.

I dont know what to feel now though. Maybe my life will change for the better, maybe Ill have good luck now, maybe I will be a different person, maybe I wont recognize my hand anymore and itll never be the same. A part of me is gone, a part of me that has been there since birth, so my relationship with it has even been longer than anyone I know, including my brothers and sisters, and really only matched by my parents. Or maybe Im looking too much into it, and after all it was just a benign growth that made my hand look gross, so..... good riddance, right? That would sound good, except it still looks gross now, with the stitches. I really hope the surgeon knows what he was doing and that he didnt lie when he said there would barely be any scarring. Cuz right now, it kinda looks worse than it ever did with a bump, it looks, well, Frankenstein.

And since i have a new expensive Camera, I have to use it. Before and Current Pictures below.


BEFORE AVEC LA BUMP



AND AFTER

Midnight Stroll

I just got a new Camera, the Canon 7D. It is an absolutely deadly weapon. 18 Megapixel, 3 inch LCD Liveview Screen, Full 1080P HD Video, Dual CMOS Processors, Weather resistant and Kung Fu grip (for real, it has kung fu grip). Granted, I spent too much money on it, but that was somewhat masked by the fact that it played 'hard to get'. Normally I dislike when people play 'hard to get', girls that play games like 'hard to get' are the worst and dont get 'got' in the end, but when it comes to consumer goods, its a completely different story. Its a personal weakness, one of the many cases where I fall hook line and sinker for the basic economic principles of supply and demand. Im a sucker. So when the Canon 7D was not in stock anywhere, I was keenly determined to get one. As Zack has often screamed, accompanied by an ape-shit response, "Foock you, I wont do what you tell me"

To make a long story short, I researched everywhere and called multiple places to find this camera in New York. Somehow, in hedging all my bets, I temporarily ended up with two! Owning two would be stupid though... I had to get my money back for one of them, which I did. But in the end, this was all a distraction, a successful way to deflect: the process was hiding the fact that it was fairly damn expensive. These are the tricks I need to employ to justify buying expensive things I can barely afford. Also it combo-ed well with my standby trick of justifying by using Euro-USD exchange rates. If I bought that same camera here in Ireland, it would of cost 700Euro more! Im saving money! Everytime you find yourself in a situation where the more you spend the more you save, you've got to do it.

So I now have to use it. Below for some samples. The video, Ive also posted on Facebook. I hate double posting, I try not to, but this was my first EOS 7D video, so I had to. Ill compromise my loose principles for this special case. Pardon the shakiness, thats because I dont have a clue what Im doing.


I was actually listening to Passion Pit on my iPod during this same sequence. So actually, what you see now is exactly what I saw and heard during that time. Youre me. For 2 and a half minutes, that is, if I was a bobble head. Oh, and Grays Papaya. 2 Hotdogs and Papaya juice for $3.50. Great Value...


NYC Cab Boot



Autumn in Central Park



Baby Noah, 8 weeks old.



Red Velvet from Magnolia Bakery, so good, it makes you poo Red.

Hi Method Man

Im so behind its not funny. Im digging myself a deeper and deeper hole. I think Im slowly finding something about myself, though. The new thing I found out about myself is this: Im not very good on following up after big excursions. I dont know how to describe it, but ever since I started this thing, the hardest time that Ive have had, on consistent basis that is, has been following up after a big long trip. Normally youd think this would be easy time time to write... lots of stories, lots to talk about, it should be effortless, almost write itself. That would be the logical progression. However, I guess, it doesnt quite work for me that way, and it may just come down to this: I have a natural instinctual resistance to anything that may be seen as showing off, even in the slightest. For example, in typical conversation, I dont talk about anything Ive done unless someone asks. I never offer myself up, and I dont bring attention to myself. Im that wallflower in the corner. Come talk to me, and Ill talk no problem... but when it comes to imposing myself, Ill always have a hard time. Always.

Enuff excuses though, Sydney / Whitsundays / NZ was a blast. Who can really complain about having a full month away? Apart from my emptied wallet, that is. Sydney, being now the 3rd time visiting, is still one of my favorite cities in the whole world. It goes like this -> Sydney, Vancouver, New York, Madrid, Kolkatta. Thats my top five. Except Kolkatta. Im joking, I hate that shithole. Replace Kolkatta with Calgary. Again Joking. Paris. Not joking. And I would probably like Paris and Madrid more if I could actually understand people. So, Im probably under rating. Lets talk again when Ive mastered Spanish and French, whenever that is. Bonjour, que tal?

Heres the thing with Australia and NZ though, the housing dwellings are only designed for 9 months of the year. No central heating. And I was there during the southern hemisphere Winter, so its a big deal. Im sure Ive talked about this before, but its such an important topic of discussion that I just have to bring it up again, houses down there NEED FREAKIN HEATERS. Just because its super duper hot most of the year doesnt mean you can forget about the 1 or 2 months of the year you freeze your ass off in your own home. Its ridiculous. Like there should be some kind of 'cop on' eventually, when your blankets are crispy from ice in the morning, and it feels like your camping, and youre walking up in a tent. Its too cold.

Second thing about down there: They make the best burgers. I missed this dearly from the last time. The Aussie burger and Kiwi burgers are masterpieces not found anywhere else, obvious ying for yang retaliation for the disgusting fermented bread spread mistake better known as Vegemite. Heres the details: Burgers as big as dinner plates, with the typical lettuce tomato fillins, plus a few key additions - fried egg, aussie relish (which is like a sweet worchestershire sauce), beetroot, and sometimes pineapple. Its a wierd mix, but it just simply works. Its for these choice moments that Warrant had it exactly right, and Heaven isnt too far away. And as Linda has always described it, a good Aussie burger is measured by the amount of juice that dribble down your forearms as you eat.

Third Impression: Although Id been to NZ before, Id never been to South Island. And now that I have, I can declare South Island is freakin dope awesome to the power of gnarly. Didz and I did a week with a Jucy camper van, which is the best and only way to explore NZ. Like where else can you drive from Rohan to Gondor within a few hours without having to need a horse? It is an unbeliavable gorgeous place. And this is coming from someone who comes from one of the most scenic places in the world, Western Canada (Canada I can show off about fairly effortlessly, Annex I, to my declaration in the first paragraph). But whereas Western Canada is so spread out (and by Western Canada, Im defining it as all of BC plus the bit of Alberta which is occupied by the Rocky Mountains, and does not by any means include any neighboring areas, such as the foothills or the plains), NZ South Island does it all within an area just slightly bigger than Vancouver Island. And by slightly bigger, I mean 5 times bigger. But still.

Fourth Impression: NZ is just WAY too fit for a nation. Its stupid. Like really. I saw a grandma running hard up a mountain, while I drove up that same mountain, and it looked like she could of beat me if I stayed in 2nd gear. Like practically sprinting! And that was with some 10-12 year old grand kids running beside her! When I was 10-12, I didnt run for fun, no the hell way. I only ran away from girls trying to headbutt me with their cabbage patch dolls, and the noises made in the forest behind my backyard which I thought was Bigfoot. I played NES Super Mario Brothers, thats what I did when I was 10-12 for fun. Running was not fun. And it shouldnt be fun for Grandmas. It just seems like everyone runs in NZ. Like everyone. And you may get that impression about some of the more cosmo cities in the world, witnessing people running in spades. However the difference about NZ is that when Kiwis run, they definitely know what they are doing by majority. Its like watching the 10,000 meter qualifications at the olympics. Perfect athletic form, crazy fast pace, and 4 to 5 out of 5 have that. That runners form, that graceful effortless stride. Anywhere else in the world, people do run, but most would look like Phoebe running in Central Park, or my mom running after a bus... not graceful. Most other places, at least half of the people running actually dont look like they know what they are doing, look stiff, have awkward gaits and look to be struggling. Its true. NZ though, its as if even grandma is channeling Paula Radcliffe and is shooting for a personal best. She would definitely kick my ass. I have no doubt, even though she was probably born in the 1930s. Kiwis are just too fit, and if they werent running they would be playing Rugby or kayaking or biking or doing push ups. Its not fair.

Anyways I find myself in NYC right now, almost two months after getting back from Aussie / NZ, there was no way I could continue on and move on with this blog without catching a bit up. Because since then Ive already been to Austria and London and now NYC, but with no mention yet whatsoever.

Now as for pictures. Theyll come soon too. Once I get back to Irlande, Im still working on them. Soon. Hopefully. Maybe. ( I always say that though )

And earlier today I saw Method Man walk by us. 18th and 6th. Jill had her back turned, and was doubtful and didnt believe me, just like how I only 95% believe her that Matt Damon ran past her in Central Park a few weeks ago. And how did I know it was him? Because its Method Man! And because I got caught looking too long, and he gave me the 'oh shit nigga, Im busted, homie knows who I am' look. You know the look.

A little Dilly Dally..

Its 4:05am in the morning.

Ill distract by sharing a bit of what Im listening to right now, frantically trying to combat my immediate restlessness; share some Massive Attack, and easily one of my most favorite songs of all time, Teardrop.

This is a version recorded for Live from Abbey Road, a documentary series from Channel 4 in the UK. Melodically haunting yet still this tune doesn't ever seem to fail in providing me a state of ease and simplicity. I just really love it.

Delay tactics....

Im a bit behind schedule, still sorting out photos to post, and storied travel bits to point form. I know I know, late and procrastinate: its the way I do. I have a valid excuse this time though, I arrived from my 30 hr, Sydney to Abu Dhabi to Dublin travel journey last Sunday, the 30th... went to work the next day, Monday the 31st... and by 6:30am the morning of Tues. Sept 1st, I was already flying off to a new work assignment in Graz Austria. I didnt even get a chance to delete the months worth of unread emails yet. One day back in the office, still in the throes of fresh jet lag, and Im sent away the next morning at stupid o clock. I didnt get back home again till Friday midnight.. and have been a complete vegetable since. And now, not only do I have one suitcase in my livingroom waiting to be emptied and unpacked, I now have two, including the one I just brought back from my work trip. And, since Im me, those two suitcases will now sit there for a very long time, before I even bother working through them... again, its just the way I do.

Productive things I did do today though: Emptied my garbage, cleaned my kitchen, cleaned out my recycling, and purchased new pillows and a duvet set just cuz I felt like a change after being away for so long (of course, Egyptian cotton with a high thread count. We all must have some standards) Washing them right now as we speak, which, as Marty and a few others would know from experience, should be ready by November.

In the meantime (Spacehog, great song), enjoy this "People much better than me" post from Rick Reilly on Derek Jeter, date 09/04/09. The quote on #7 is probably one of the greatest quotes in the history of mankind. And Im dead serious. Who else could ever pull this off? Look at his career numbers, he's not even that great of a shortstop... yet his career women numbers is untouchable. He has successfully scooped 4 of my top 5 of all time (Jessica, Jessica, Jordana, Minka). All he is missing is Heidi Klum, and he would of went a clean sweep through my fantasy 5. The only stain really is Mariah, but only because we are thinking of crazy messed up Mariah of 2003-2009, instead of late 90s version Mariah that Derek dated, when she was still in her prime, with her Al Iafrate slapshot still in tact. Like, I don't even know what else to say.

http://sports.espn.go.com/espnmag/reillygofish

The Holy Month of Ramadan

Its no secret that I dislike Airplane food. Even in the upper classes, airplane food on the most part is barely edible, having the preparation quality of a 1980s frozen dinner. Im a guy though, and I can still eat, as my grandparents have always reinforced into me, you cant waste food. On my flight earlier today to Abu Dhabi from Sydney (connection point on my way back to Sunny Ireland), I made a mental note not to eat, and save myself for the much better food at Abu Dhabi airport. Fourteen hour Etihad Airways flight, I will be vigilant and withhold myself from nourishment, so that by the time I arrive at Abu Dhabi for my 3 hour connection stopover, I can eat blissfully, as opposed to oppressively in cramped conditions (no upgrade this time, how do I survive... I dont know).

By the time we were approaching Abu Dhabi for descent, I heard the following airplane announcement " allah akbar allah allah mahalay ohh sama ladin allah sama lakam" or something to that effect in arabic. Then the translation came.. "The captain has informed us that he is now preparing for our decent. Please return to your seats in preparation for landing. Also The United Arab Emirates is now observing the Holy Month of Ramadan. It will not be permitted to eat, drink or smoke during daylight hours".

Excuse me? WHAT!!!? Im not muslim, are you serious, Im starving, I just fasted for 14 hours already!! Nothing but drink and alcohol, which frankly makes you even MORE hungry, if starving for 14 hours wasnt enough. I looked outside the window, and it was 6am in the morning local time, it JUST turned daylight. Summabitch... what a disaster. A verifiable Disaster! It cant be, there must be an exception for us infidels, just like smoking rooms, there must be a "western eat and drink all you want during daylight hours" room. There must.. like comeon, youre killing me...

So as we decended I was getting the hunger sweats. I was getting hangry. I had no emergency snacks with me, and even if I did, would I be caught, and thrown into muslim jail for breaking the law and eating during daylight hours? Possibly tongue cut out? or beheaded? I dont know... sounds plausible though. Yet, if I had a Crunchie bar in my backpack, I was ready to be ninja elusive and risk it.

Walking off the plane, I couldn't help studying all the airport workers and airline personnel along the way. The grounds crew, the tarmac workers, the cleaner people. It looked dire. It was only maybe 30 minutes into daylight, and they all already looked oppressed and starving. Not a good sign. Not at all. And as I entered the Terminal, I immediately saw all the prayer rooms, with the locals kneeling and pointed east in prayer. Most definitely praying for the strength to survive a whole daylight period without eating. Thats what I would be praying for anyways. And as I acutely scanned around, there definitely was no one eating at all. So it turns out the airplane lady was not pulling an elaborate joke. Just then, I got a contraction and I could feel the angry acid in my stomach attacking my stomach walls.

So anyways, depressed, I walked the 20 minute walk to my departure gate. I think I was close to tears. The prospects were bleak, if I were to eat, I would have to wait at least another 4 hours for terrible airplane food, on the next flight to Dublin, but that flight was also Etihad Airways, and if they were not serving food the on ground, there was the possibility they would not serve food in the air either. That flight was another 8 hours to Dublin... so in total at the very worst, it would be another 12 hours before eating. I was getting a migrane.

As I was thinking these dreadful things, consumed in my own woe, I passed a Burger King that was open. And serving food, to people. Ah the Infidels of western commercial fast food culture! Praise Allah! Best Whopper EVER. Both of them.

So yeah anyways... Ill be preparing my Aussie NZ post soon enough... but I just had to say... that was really scary.

Killed it

Its official, I want to take it all back. The JK Wedding footage has completed been killed by over exposure. Absolutely murdered to death. Its too much. Way too much, TV appearances, global news references. It used to be so good, but now its turned into the MMmmmBop of Youtube videos. It was reenacted on Aussie TV! Aussie TV even! By Aussie Dancing with the Stars dancers! Like comeon... just stop.

By the way, Im in Australia...

The most awesomest wedding entrance ever..

Im a big a fan of the escape wedding, the international destination wedding... small intimate and in a far away land with guaranteed good weather. Big local weddings are not me. However, I will add a disclaimer that the only way I would ever agree to a big invite everyone wedding, is if we did it like this:



Now who wants to marry me...

Noli

I may have mentioned or alluded to it before over my many past writings , and since Im two weeks away from that 5 year blog anniversary (The wooden anniversary! woohoo, Ill have wood!) I have to re-admit that I have a wierd love / hate relationship with this blog. In many ways I absolutely love it, and would be lost without it. Being able to communicate, express myself and hopefully in limited circumstances, make people laugh at my expense; just getting a *chance* to share a moment where you and I are the only ones that exist, even for a short moment, its the sole reason I write. Im absolutely devoted to the idea of creating that rare connection, however small the possibility. Also, with my acceptance of my own wallflower self, its one of the few ways I have the courage to do so. As you 3 people that read this already know, sometimes I may update on my life, or, more like it, a twisted slant on which is my life. Sometimes I write about what I think, and sometimes just on random pop-culture shite that is as nutritious as junk food... its not good for you, but it tastes good and its good for me. Its my pseudo-diary.

Then there are moments I do hate it, especially when I have low motivation, and have absolutely nothing to write about. Writing can be the easiest exercise ever sometimes, and yet there are long moments where its the most impossible: When I feel committed to it, but frustrated because I cant contribute. Its like working out or running. I absolutely hate working out and running. Its so hard to get up for it. But afterwards, once its done, there really are not many better feelings. A sense of personal accomplishment and successful commitment to something that is good for you. Plus the endorphins are kinda cool, too. Its like the feeling I get after listening to good new music. (And an unbeatable combination when held in tag team) Its just too bad getting up for it, its sometimes just too hard.

Still 5 years. almost. Not bad, who knew. And Instead of waiting till then to attempt to write a fitting tribute, I decided to do it now. I was in one of those moods to write, is all. With Phoenix and Iron & Wine playing in the background, and now the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs sneaking their way in near the end, I had created a suiting environment. And better now, than possibly struggling in two weeks, when words could escape me. Plus, on July 24th, on that 5 year anniversary date, Ill be at the U2 Concert in Dublin, with my sister, Emma. U2 in the hallowed grounds of Croke Park, Dublin. AGAIN! And with Glas Vegas and Damien Dempsey opening for them as well, Im probably not going to find time to write. Ill be too busy listening to my New York buddy Bono preach about poor Africa.

Remember when she was still hot...

MJ and Britney, circa 2001. This was the Britney Spears that lead me to purchase the Crossroads DVD. Incredible how 6-8 years can change things. Shackooww..

Without MJ around anymore, now there is nobody alive that can totally rock the white socks black shoes. Nobody. Obviously grandpas and crusty physics teachers dont count. He was the only one who could ever pull it off.

India didnt tell me MJ died

I was a little annoyed this weekend... sad mood, downtrodden, but also a wee bit bitter. I found out Michael Jackson died, but very late, way after everyone else. All because India didnt even tell me.

You see, India and me, we are not on very good terms to begin with. I always seem to get sent there for the worst jobs, in the middle of the jungle kinds, where monkeys actually do throw crap at you, Holy Cows wander right into the middle of the street traffic like they own the place, and there is the ever present danger of a 5 meter long King Cobra killing me by just looking at me, and me dying from fright. (I swear, the venom, that wont kill me, its my poor heart from sheer horror)

Well its been almost 2 years since my last trip to India though, and since then Slumdog Millionaire happened. I decided to like India again, give it a second chance. I armed myself with the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack on my iPod, and with "Jai Ho" and "O... Saya" blasting in my ear drums, while I walked around in the heat and humidity, I was feeling good and ready for reconciliation. How can you not like a place with A.R. Rahman blasting as your life soundtrack? Its almost impossible not to be in a good mood. I even started bobbling my head loosy like Great Tiger in Mike Tysons Punchout.

India refused to cooperate though. My project, this was a commissioning job, went to shit. I was in the middle of nowhere of the Maharashtra region, Chandrapur to be specific. Nothing went right, everything went wrong with the job. And add to that I got Delhi Belly... also known as Put-parut-puts. This was going exactly the same as the 3 previous jobs I had in India.... up shit creek.

And I was giving India a chance this time. I really was, I was ready for water to pass under the bridge, had no preconceptions. But India just smiled and slapped me back. I did feel good though, or relieved maybe the better word, when I was finally on the way back to Ireland. I had a day layover in Mumbai, staying at the Intercontinental Hotel Marine Drive. Somehow I lucked out with the Penthouse room, with the bay view. Maybe India was making it up to me. And up on the roof that night, I had a great time drinking Kingfishers at lounge bar. Actually, it was a pretty good scene, roof top bar, perfect nighttime landscape view of Marine Drive Mumbai, great energy with all the younger Mumbai's clientele, all dressed up, good DJ pumping good music: so save the view and heat, I felt like I was at the Shark Club in Surrey (haha.. thats funny.. I apologize, but you gotta admit, thats funny). I was relaxed, enjoying myself, on this one night, trying to make up for the previous 5 shitty days.

India was being sneaky though, by lulling me with drink and great atmosphere, it was hiding from me that the most famous person in the world, the King of Pop had died. Nothing was on TV about it, only stupid choreographed bollywood singing n dancing and of course cricket news. No one was talking about it on the street even (well not in English anyways, maybe they were in Hindi, but what good is that to me?) I didnt actually find out until I got back to Ireland, when my taxi driver who picked me up at Dublin Airport, on the drive back home, had mentioned it in passing. So thats how I find out? In a taxi? 48 hours after the fact?

Me and India... we are divorced. Thats it.. dead to me.

MJ Personal Facts:
Favorite Song: Human Nature
Favorite Attire: Smooth Criminal- white suit with, top hat and black armband.
Favorite 'Non crotch grab' Dance Move: The anti gravity lean.
Favorite Character: Scarecrow in the Wiz, (Captain EO a close second)
Favorite ExWife: Lisa Marie Presley
Favorite suspiciously caucasian looking offspring: "Blanket"
Favorite Neverland Ranch ride: Ferris Wheel.

Now I have to say goodbye forever to one of my favorite artists of all time. Its a shame though that the man, however bizarre, has been ridiculed for almost 20 years, and its only at his time of death that people start to create a relationship with him again. Go read Lisa Marie's blog Post from Friday, its an interesting and intimately revealing read.

Cheers Chicago Redux

Heres an entertaining email thread between me and Marty Chow:

Marty Writes:

Do you listen to the BS Report?
Well Simmons and Kevin Wilde are playing one of my favorite games: Recasting movies/tv shows with current actors. The one they are working on is Cheers… And I totally disagree with the names they're throwing out right (Amy Smart or Rachel Bilson = Diane, Rosie Perez = Carla) but the problem is I'm pretty much stumped myself. I like their idea of Chicago Cheers. And the Black Norm and Cliff… any ideas?
Sam -
Diane - Tina Fey
Coach -
Woody - Andy Samberg
Fraser -
Norm -
Cliff -
Carla -
Rebecca -
Here's my recast for A-team
Hannibal = George Clooney
Face = Matthew McConaughey
BA = Ice Cube
Murdoch = Jim Carey (Circa: Ace Ventura)
And here's the rumored cast:
Hannibal = Liam Neeson
Face = Bradley Cooper
BA = Common
Murdoch =


Noli Replies:


HAHA.. I was just thinking about that too when I listened to that
podcast... brilliant!! I knew you were a good friend for a reason...

check mine out below.. what do you think?

> Sam - Mathew McConaughy! solid
> Diane - Tina Fey --> nonono.. diane haa to be prissy uppity, I say Katie Holmes kills it.
> Coach - a bit senile / clueless ---> Craig T Nelson
> Woody - Andy Samberg ---> andy is too popculture funny --> I actually go JT, he play dumb good, he has that stupid innocent look down pat.. hes from the south. Memphis.
> Fraser - Colin Firth
> Norm - Cedric the Entertainer
> Cliff - Ricky Gervais
> Carla - mean streak kinda girl- sharp tongue, biting - Darlene from Rosanne, Sara Gilbert
> Rebecca - She needs work these days - Tiffany Amber-Theissen.. Kelly Ka-wow-ski.

I think I nailed it.....


Marty Replies:


Nice work. I like your side notes. They help me brainstorm.
I'll take some - leave some though buffet style.

I'm down with-
Sam - Mathew McConaughy
Although what do you think of the Rock? Who has bigger comedy chops?

Hmmm Prissy uppity... Katie Holmes
I don't know. Plus I wouldn't buy the McConaughy - Holmes romance.
Prissy uppity is more Jessica Alba. I'll buy McConaughy-Alba or
Rock-Alba any day.

Coach - a bit senile / clueless ---> Craig T Nelson
You know what... You're onto something... But you gotta go with that
other coach on Coach... Jerry Van Dyke.

I don't agree with JT as Woody... JT is too cool for Woody. I'm sticking
with Andy Samberg and if not him then Ashton Kutcher... Think about it.
Kelso was Woody. Woody was Kelso. Shoe fits.

Fraser - Colin Firth... Ya, I guess you can enter "older british guy
with accent" here.

Norm - Cedric? I don't know his resume very well... But as far as funny
fat guys go, I'd rather see Charles Barkley as Norm.

Cliff - Ricky Gervais ... Good call but what about Steve Carall?
Wouldn't that be a better fit? But if we have Barkely as Norm, don't we
have to go with AC Green as Cliff? I bet AC still lives with his mom.

Carla - mean streak kinda girl- sharp tongue, biting - Darlene from
Rosanne, Sara Gilbert. Nailed it. Done. However, If we want a younger
version, then we go with Sara Gilbert 2.0: Ellen- That pregnant girl
from Juno- Page. Or if we want an older version we go with Sara Gilbert
Beta: Janeane Garofalo. But I'm down with Sara. Sign her. Well, figure
out her real name... Then sign her.

Rebecca - I'm saying next on TAT. What's the criteria for Rebecca?


Noli Replies:


You dont like TAT? I figure with the bossy way she ruled the peach
pit at night.. she could pull off the bossy up front, but insecure
kinda women... plus, shes the kinda girl that could gain weight later
in the show... like the original rebecca.. plus she doesnt have to be
funny. Rebecca wasnt funny in the original, even when she tried to
be.

Im liking the Rock.. yeah.. pretty good.. but I always see him as a "I
pick up chicks because Im a good looking fit jock / Kobe / Jeter
entitled" kinda way... not in the "Im smooth and sly and funny and
witty and talk my way into girls beds" kinda way.

Yeah you might be right about the non chemistry with Holmes and Matt..
but umm.. its too bad cuz shes kinda Dianish now, this robot Tom
Cruise version anyways.

Alba is too easy. and I love her too much. Shes like saying Megan
Fox. Diane.. she had to grow on you after awhile and be kinda
funny..Alba has you melted the moment you see her, and the last time
she tried to be funny she was in a stupid movie with goof Dane Cook.
They need to hate each other in the beginning too, an opposites
attract kinda thing.. so... hmmm.. kate hudson is good, but thats
already been done in a movie, a shitty one I might add. Who then?
Ill be unconventional and go... mila kunis

Ashton? Remember Woody needs to be likable. He cant be a douchebag
ass that pranks people... even when he played dumb, he was macking
chicks. Rather have andy sandberg...

Norm: i figured we needed a black guy.... although this could easily be Seth Rogan.

Coach: Im like Van Dyke. Hes old too.. and theres a chance he might
pass away like the other coach..

Cliff: Steve Carrall good call. I was thinking him, but he already
has a show. You cant have two shows. Its not like hes Heather
Locklear doing TJ Hooker and Dynasty at the same time. Hes not a girl
whose smoking hot for her generation... cant be done.

Carla - great back up casting call with Juno..

Off to india in about 3 hours, just in case you reply and I dont reply
back right away...


Marty Replies:


I was drafting this email at work all morning yesterday and then I got swamped before I could send it out. Plus I needed time to think about the stragglers. And definite GONG on Mila Kunis-Caulkin.

DONE:
Carla: Sara Gilbert
Coach: Jerry Van Dyke

ALMOST THERE:
Norm: Seth Rogen- I thought of Seth too but I thought he was almost too much like the original Norm. Like you're trying to have a Norm look-a-like contest. But I like him cause Norm and Cliff are like one entity. An ensemble cast of 2. And Seth is the ultimate half duo. Think of his recent theatrical pairings. Rogen-Rudd, Rogen-Franco ... Which leads me into

Cliff: Bill Hader. Rogen-Hader in Superbad as the cops was a good 1-2 punch. They're not lame slapstick. But not exactly intellectual comedy either. They've got good chemistry and they feed off each other. Plus as an entity they're not the type that's gonna come in an try to dominate the show. They're like 6th men. Coming in off the bench like a Manu for big moments but recognizes it's Tim's team... After all this is Sam's show.

NOT QUITE THERE:
Sam: I thought McConaughy was too big for the show. Why grind the schedule of a TV sitcom with the same tired cast when you can travel the world doing sappy RomComs rotating through co-stars as girlfriends. BUT he's entering Charlie Sheen territory. That stage of his career where he may need to do TV to stay relevant. Considering that McConaughy Redux - Bradley Cooper is about to explode with the success of the Hangover, McConaughy will need the work. Cooper's already locked for Faceman in the A-team movie. And that was McConaughy's role. BUT... Huge thing to consider... Simmon's choice for Sam was Vince Vaughn. A perfect fit for Chicago Cheers. David Wooderson vs Trent. I go with T. He made Gretzky's head bleed.

AND THE STRAGGLERS: The important castings pretty much done. There's enough star power to carry the show. Now we need fillers. I'm just gonna throw out names...

Diane- Upitty priss slumming it as a server- You know who would be perfect? Jennifer Aniston. She would have crazy chemistry with Vince like in the Break-up. They had that Love-Hate thing that Sam and Diane had. Aniston has that uppity too good for serving quality (probably too close to Rachel Green). It would never happen though. So I'll throw out Jeannie Garth.

Frasier- Middle Age, intellectual, shrink- Stumped. To the point where I googled "Movie Shrinks" and got the following list: http://www.listal.com/list/shrinks-abhijeet The only names that did it for me though were Billy Crystal, Robin Williams and Richard Dreyfuss. Crystal would take over the show with star power and Williams would dominate with over the topness. How about Dick Drey? He's probably looking for work.

Rebecca: Bossy up front, but insecure: Maggie Gyllenhaal or Jennifer Love Hewitt

Woody- Young, likeable, naïve- I'm going with one of the London brothers... Jason or Jeremy. I'm not sure which one though. We may as well cast both and interchange them like the Full House twins depending on which one is taking a nap.


Noli Replies:


Norm and Cliff = Seth and Bill.. Im completely liking that combo. So done..

And I love the London twins idea... brilliant. Why not have both? And
they are always on different shifts? The possibilities here are
promising, like they have the same personalities, but slightly
different, and the gags they could play, kinda like Parent Trap type
stuff... and not Lindsay Lohan parent trap, but more original Hayley
Mills Parent trap. I like this, great brain wave.

I think we are still stuck on Sam and Diane: Vince is good. Very
good, but arent we suppose to stay away from him because Simmons
picked him? We cant bite off Simmons, this whole email thread is
biting off him already, double biting, so not cool. Its resevered for
the 4th level of plagurism hell. Do we want to cross that line?
Would like to pick Vince, I would. But maybe we shouldnt, he's
already been called on dibs.

I think we should keep Wooderson on the table. But another
possibility, how about Robert Downey, JR. Sure I know hes Iron Man
and all, but we are playing pretend here, and he did do SNL for a year
in the 80s and Ally McBeal in the 90s, and hes wacky enough to go to a
star studded sitcom like this for the fun of it. I really think he
would. Especially if hes got the nose for coke again.

Robert downey, and if we pick him, then from his recent on screen
chemistry, then it would be awefully perfect to pick Gwenneth Paltrow
for Diane. A bit uppity, she is kinda high on herself, can plan funny
very good, and she looks like the kinda girl that would serve in a
bar, but feel above it all. Plus, if we stick to Wooderson, they
would be the type of people that would not get on at first. Wooderson
would be so into her, for the looks, but she'd deny him Diane-style
for being just a dumb jock. Eventually though, you know theyd hook
up.. I swear this is how it would of worked out if Matthew was a bar
owner instead of an actor, and Gwenneth was a side job waitress with
higher expectations instead of a entitled hollywood actress.

And for Rebecca, how about this... lets go a little french, Eva Green.
She plays tough very good in bond, and, ummm, lets face it, I would
love to see her once a week.

Are we whittling it down? I cant believe Im in India right now, and
all I preoccupied with is casting for a fake show...


Marty Replies:


Too busy to add commentary... But its interesting that we have all the funny people casted but non of the serious people locked.

Diane: Reese Witherspoon
Frasier: Hugh Laurie
Rebecca: Courtney Cox

DONE
Sam: Matthew McConaughy
Carla: Sara Gilbert
Coach: Jerry Van Dyke
Norm: Seth Rogen
Cliff: Bill Hader
Woody: The London Twins


Noli Replies:


I cant believe we dont have any of the girls nailed down, apart from Carla. At first you'd think that'd be the easy part... but really, as we just worked out... so kinda not...

Spencer Pratt

What a complete and utter supreme douche bag.

(Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd..Im done. My best blog post ever, I think. I havent even ever never watched dem Hills)

5 Year Anniversary

A wierd date on the calendar for me, Ive been here for 5 years now. Wierd because, if I worked out the arithmatics, thats as long as I have lived in Vancouver. AND thats also about 5 times longer than I thought I was going to actually stay here. 5 times longer! Honestly, thats a significant multiplication factor on early estimates: I couldn't of been more off if I was trying to hit the ocean with rock, but was aiming towards Saskatchewan. Maybe its time to go (but, I say that every year). Its at this point where I would love to possess such intangibles as "Plans", "Goals" and "Career Direction". And heres some random notes:

- FAO Schwartz is now owned by Toys R Us. They better not put Geoffery the Giraffe in front, or Ill never buy Toys ever again.

- In somewhat related news, GM stock is now trading under $1. And Fiat, the famous Italian Fix It Again Tony's cars, will soon become the 2nd largest automobile company in the world, next to Toyota. Like what the? Thats like the Indian Tata Car corporation starting to outselling Honda.

- I wonder what is the percentage of people that plug their ears when they are sitting in a public toilet stall, and then hear someone occupy the stall next to them. Toilets should be installed with Bose Noise Canceling Earphones.

- I was on a hike with my buddy Tolan, and he was telling me how his dad still calls him at random annoying hours, asking for instructions on how to do something on the internet. Once, his dad did take lessons at the local community center, but that didnt work because Sisters of the local convent ran those community classes, and ignored that section of the computer lessons since they insisted there is too much evil on the internet. Maybe they have a point. You know the percentage of people that probably watch porn on the Internet? Id say probably 98%.

- On another related note, on that hike, I realized I absolutely need Goretex hiking shoes.

boa noite

Where Amazing Happens..

This is class. I love this... quite possibly the most beautiful things ever ...

Definition of a Chick Flick?

The other day, About a Boy was on Irish network Television, RTE2, came upon it surprisingly, or rather, serendipitously (better word, huh). I own the DVD, but as we all seem to know, when it comes to classic favorite movies, no matter how many times you've seen them, they still seem even more special when they are on TV; there is something extra significant about the situation, a magnetic appeal that makes it very difficult to change the channel or leave the room. Add to that, I havent actually seen it in maybe 3 years, so I forgot all the good bits. It was a good day.

Watching About a Boy, and considering its appeal as a romantic comedy, it brought up again an argument from the Xmas Holiday: What defines a Chick Flick?

There was an on going argument with Nina, Crystal and Jill during our stay in Prague and they started it by proclaiming something completely wrong as if it were fact: They said that Love Actually ( the movie that we had scheduled to watch at the apartment for our christmas celebration) was a chick flick.

And I said, Oh no. Hells no. Vehemenently no. I proceeded to make my case passionately and logically, and not to worry, I ended up demolishing them in debate. And I needed to argue this because Love Actually is one of my favorite movies, and hells no way that one of my favorite movies is going to be a chick flick. No way Jose, Calderon.

Why isnt Love Actually a generic Chick Flick? Well because of one simple truth: its lacks a predominating female point of view. Romantic movies and the chick flick genre have always, ALWAYS had at heart a female narrative or at the very least a 50% share with a male lead. This definition highlights the main difference between shows like Sex and the City, from lets say, Entourage. Sex and the City: nothing but female point of view (askew). Entourage: not a single female view in sight, unless being objectified. Another example would be the difference between Big and Sleepless in the Seattle. Both star Tom Hanks, both rely on situational relationship related comedy, but in Sleepless in Seattle, Tom Hanks shares billing with Meg Ryan, and both of their stories are told simultaneously with equal weight. In Big, its only Josh Baskins and his wonderful foot Piano scene in FAO Schwartz (one of the most monumental scenes of the cinematic archives ). The result is: One is a chick flick, and one is not. Now finally, returning to the subject of my first paragraph, theres About a Boy. Even though it stars Rom-Com all star point guard Hugh Grant in a movie about relationships, no one would ever say it was chick flick. Because, well, its about a boy.

As for Love Actually, which is a collection of linear stories that associate with each other loosely in the end, almost every story arc is seen from the males point of view. There's the video camera bloke who fell in love with his bestfriend's wife, Keira Knightley. There's Colin Firths character who gets cheated on, then falls for a portuguese cleaner that he doesnt even know how to speak to. There's Billy Nighs old rocker comeback story, trying to find something meaningful. There's the bug-eyed lad who goes to the Wisconsin to find American girls. Theres Hugh Grants prime minister character, falling for the tea server girl with thunder thighs. And then there is Liam Neeson's cute story arc with his step son, who falls madly in love at the precocious age of 10. And what's left, there is only the Husband and Wife story of Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson, plus the Laura Linney tangential storyline that could be considered female leveraged. This is not enough, too much of a minority. In the end Love Actually is not a chick flick. Its not. If you still think so, try this: name one Chick Flick that doesnt revolve around female character. It doesnt exist. Crystal, who was stumped when I posed the question, even started making up movies. She even used foreign language movies, like the Korean 'My Sassy Girl'; like that even exists. Please..

The Abercrombie Index

Have you ever heard of the Big Mac Index? Its a measure used frequently in global economics, more specifically made famous by the Economist magazine. Essentially, its a simplified yet highly accurate way to compare the complex and volatile world of purchasing value or purchasing power in different countries as they relate to each other. Or, in other words, its a surprisingly easy way to find out if a certain country's currency is over valued or under valued, and does this by comparing the price of Big Macs in different places.

The premise is quite basic: take the cost of a Big Mac in one country: say, oh I dont know, for the sake of argument, lets randomly select Ireland. In Ireland a Big Mac cost 3.40 euros. In dollars, at current exchange rates that translates about 4.40 USD. Now if you were to buy a Big Mac in Chicago, it would cost 3.50 USD. Since we are baselined by the fact you are comparing the price of the exact same product, by the exact same company, with the exact same supply chain models, the only variable is the regional economics, and therefore, now easy to compare which location is over valued and which is under valued. The Irish Big Mac costs more. So Ireland in general terms is over valued as a country. Easy peasy, japanesey.

And if you want to get into more specifics, by comparing the ratio of the prices, to the actual exchange rate, you can then establish concrete index values; but I shouldnt bring up any more maths in this posts... itll get too confusing, and feel too much like a math / econ class. And really, who needs that kind of detail, there is a reason why there is a direct correlation between mathematics subjects and sedative potency. Just as long as you get the gist: by using the idea of a Big Mac, you can "Index" the true relative strength of a localized currency, especially in comparison to other locations. You can then contrast the relative purchasing parity of different countries, or for that matter, different local regions or even specifically, the cities themselves. And , if you wish to get really complex, you can translate it to the strength of the macro-economy, too. All from the primary cost of an ordinary Big Mac.

Anyways, so here I am in Bangor Maine today... shopping at Bangor Mall, which had both Abercrombie & Fitch and Hollister Co. stores. Most people who have shopped in the States are well aware of these two iconic fashion clothing outfits. They apply quite an effective and unique business model: turn your shopping experience into a night club type experience. Establish a modern interior design which is contemporary yet trendy, then make it consistent from store to store. Lower the lights really low, with specific spotlights on only the strategic areas that need highlighting, so that everywhere else its hard to judge if something looks good, much akin to the phenomenon of beer googles. Then play music, good modern music with a groovy beat, loud. Very loud. Like on the dial, it would be well past 'elevator music' notch or even the 'HMV' notch. With everything combined, a shopper is simply overwhelmed by the atmosphere; the restricted sight, and restricted hearing, creating a location of eliteness and exclusivity. Atmosphere and environment is essential to the consumer industry, and its the sole reason why Circuit City failed and Best Buy succeeded. And its a main reason why Abercrombie kills American Eagle in terms of brand value, even though the clothes in both stores are almost the same. Its to a great advantage to create a domain people enjoy to visit. And of course, add the bog standard that every consumer retailer should apply , you must have good looking people work there. Good looking girls, more specifically, for my interests (the guys... ehh. They might as well be light posts, really, I dont notice, but according to female friends, hot guys are key to shopping. So, even though all girls are crazy and evil, in this case I have to kinda believe them. Because in general girls shop more than guys. Well guys not named Noli). Why is this, since it sounds so discriminate and unfair? Well first of all, life is unfair, so we all kinda have to live with it. And also, in more politically expedient terms, for fashion retailers, your employees are the brand representatives... which is actually just another term for 'Model'. And to be completely fair, by law and rule, there are hardly any ugly models. To that extent the modern Ambercrombie has mastered this business concept, and hits all and every button.

In some cases, like the store In New York, on Fifth Avenue, they take the Ambercrombie / nightclub concept and bring it to amusing levels. Theres like lineups outside the store just to get in! and the good looking brand representatives / "models"? They dance like go go dancers would at certain stations! And the jeans are even stacked, organised and presented behind a bar... with like a bartender type guy to take your order. And on 5th Ave, the brand representatives slash "models" are soooooo hot. Like hot hot. Really smokin hot. So hot, you cant even phantom hitting on them because you wouldnt have the closest chance. Thats Abercrombie NY.

Bangor Maine though, in terms of the attractiveness of the Abercrombie girls there: just okay. Better than the Abercrombie I visited in Louisiana last month, and Wisconsin last year, but less than the one in Seattle and Dallas, and no where near the quality in Chicago or New York.They even had some, not so good looking ones in the back too, which is yet another Abercrombie patented move: all the charity hires are restricted to the WAY back, with probably an electronic collar that zaps them with voltage if they venture past the dressing room vicinity. If you have a really good Abercrombie store, these situations wont even exist. The local talent pool is rich enough, that the store management doesnt even need to venture down that avenue of woe.

So, after 6 paragraphs of setting the table and building up my eventual premise, I finally get around to my big idea and revelation: taking the lead of Ronald Macdonald's economics, why not use the same concepts and fundamentals to create a 'Abercrombie Index' to rate the relative "hotness" of the local region? Much like the Big Mac, we are taking a common product, from a common company, with the only variable attributed to the local area conditions of the store's location. Its well established that Abercrombie and Hollister hire with a heavy heavy HEAVY bias towards the hot people. So the natural progressive argument would then mean that each Abercrombie store would be a direct indicator of the quantity and quality of hot girls in the area (or hot guys too, I guess, but for the sake of brevity Ill continue to stick to the girls). See, if the local pond was poor... you'd know by who worked at the Abercrombie or Hollister. The greeters up front might top out at a 6.5, and there would be more regularity towards charity hires towards the back. And if the local area was really good, like say the more affluent areas of big city, then the greeters are so drop dead gorgeous that they make you cry, and the back area situation isnt even close to approaching bad dream status. See what I mean? Abercrombie and Fitch used as a scale for the key measure of territorial attractiveness. All in all, this new Index, its a rock solid, I think. And valuable, too. Comparing multiple areas as a new place to relocate for work or school? You better check out the Abercrombie Index. Disregard it at your peril.

For added breadth, this index concept can be extended to other areas as well. Jill, for example, prides herself for being offered a job at the Abercrombie in Seattle a couple times. This is another Abercrombie classic: take your pickings from people who shop at your store; if they are "Abercrombie Material', offer them a job. The reason for this is basic, really. Its like girlfriend / boyfriend scouting, but even easier. In this case: Abercrombie doesnt have to go anywhere because there is a wealth of foot traffic that comes to them. As a convenient byproduct it also bypasses any "fair hiring" laws that may exist if an opening was posted publicly. Now, if we were to apply my Abercrombie Index, how would Jill's Seattle job offer compare to the similar job offer Lisa ended up getting while shopping at Abercrombie NY when we were there last August? Without any existing standard to set against, you'd mistakenly believe it would be equal. But if you were to apply the Index, because of the relative mathematics, on paper the NYC offer in complimentary terms is more valuable. All things being equal, Lisa can currently claim more bragging rights. Just like how Rock always beats Scissors, New York on this index always beats Seattle. This will hold true up until, that is, Jill gets her eventual Abercrombie NYC job offer, one of these days, since she conveniently lives there now. If that happens, then she can hypothetically take the lead solely based on quantity. But then and only then. The index says so. (In completely unrelated news, I have a feeling I have started a new healthy competition). Moreover, if you were savy enough, its a weighted achievement that can be highlighted on your resume. "It says here that you have experience being spontaneously offered a brand rep. position in Abercrombie and Fitch. May I ask which one?" "Manhattan Fifth Avenue." "Wow... impressive..".

But in the end, it serves my purpose, because when people ask me travel type questions, like, "how was Bangor?" I can now say with all confidence.. "Well, it was a solid 7 on the Abercrombie Index" and peeps would get a perfect picture of what the town was like. And if the local area doesnt even have a Abercrombie store? Well then, that kinda answers the question by itself. Like if the area wasnt even Abercrombie worthy, it doesnt bode well for the town status prospects. (Outside of the States, however, my arrogant judgement doesnt apply, because Abercrombie corporate has hardly expanded outside of the USA, with the exception of Toronto and London, England. Just some legal copy, required so that Im not liable for any potential law suits from anyone outside of the States found unfairly insulted)

My Ambercrombie current Index table:

New York Fifth Ave: 9.5
Chicago: 8.5
Dallas: 8.5
Seattle: 8
San Francisco: 7.5
Bangor, ME: 7
Green Bay, WI: 6.5
Columbus, OH: 6.5
Shreveport, LA: 5.0

Its a work in progress. Unfortunately, my sample population is underwhelming because my American travel has been mostly limited to Southern hick towns.

Boy weds a Girl

Did you know that it snows in late April in Calgary? I definitely did not know this, and you could easily tell if you were to inspect my Calgary packing job. One hoodie. A suit for the wedding. And a fashionable windbreaker. And then the rest shorts and tee shirts. Not exactly clothes you are expected to pack when there is snow on the ground and the temperature dips below zero. But then again, its exactly the type of clothes you WOULD pack when traveling on the brink of May to a destination that doesnt rhyme with Smarkttica or Diberia. Like seriously, snow at this time of year? Its beyond stupid, its ... lets say... poopid. Not only that, but given my justified annoyances and complaints, in complete contrast, the weather was greeted and treated with profound ambivalence by locals. "Ehhh.. welcome to our Winter Wonderland, what can you do. It can snow any month here." Is that the best you can do? Not even any marked insecurity with a rolodex of canned excuses? This just gives me yet another reason to hate the Calgary Flames; the city where they reside has ludicrous weather, which seems to go along with their ludicrous fans (HA! I kid, but then again I dont).

So my buddy Adam got married to his girlfriend Nathalie this weekend, which really means another rare reunion party with friends who are now increasingly scattered and disconnected around the globe. Two friends of which, Matty and Mark, gave me a bit of a hard time for not doing more of this typing which I do now; submitting blog posts. Its as if I didnt feel bad enough already. Its just that sometimes Im lazy. I figured after 5 years, people reading would of maybe noticed by now. Like comeon, Im Noli.

The wedding this weekend was a special one that transcended the disasterous meteorological conditions, one Im glad I did not miss. No regrets and almost a pleasure to fly through 7 time zones to join in (and be fed so well. Im really in the need for some cardio). Adam is one of my few triple threat friends: 1) Charisma: A completely genuine, likable and personable cat, one of those rare peoples that gets along with everyone; that guy that you can't help liking after just the first few moments of meeting him. 2) Intelligence: He's an especially smart dude, one of those types you get jealous of because he makes learning seem easy. And somehow he manages this without exposing an ounce arrogance, simply projecting like any everyday average guy, who struggles like everyone else. 3) Looks: Some say if you were drunk enough, squinted your eyes and tilted your head at the correct angle, then wore rose colored sunglasses, he may seem to look like Bill Guerin. If that actually means anything or could be used to an advantage of some sort.

And then he found and married a girl just as rare and that's quite possibly an improvement on him. She even looks like a celebrity herself... um.. whatshername.. Judging Amy.

Unfortunately Adam dodged a major bullet... no embarrassing stories. Now what's the fun in that? People who know him KNOW how lucky he got by keeping all the embarrassing skeletons in the closet. And lets just say Im sure he tried very hard in order to make this happen, by laying down strict ground rules for wedding announcements and speeches, insisting all public speaking be kept down to under 3 nanoseconds. This is what you do when you've been known to be photographed in speedos. You see, Adam was my roommate when he first started dating Nat. And I have a wealth of stories, just from the first 3 dates alone. It seems so unfair... like what good is a wedding if you cant roast your friend? He completely sidestepped that landmine. Of course he did wear a body painted Flames Bertuzzi jersey to a Colorado Avalanche home game for his stag, but that doesnt count because it never got onto the jumbotron or youtube.

PS... Youd think with the amount I fly I would of done this already by now, but this was the first post Ive ever written on a plane. AC Flight 584, Calgary to New York. It was the peer pressure from Mark and Matty. I hope they are happy.

PPS... Weather over here in NYC and Bangor, ME at the moment? in the high 80s Farenheit! See, told you Calgary sucks.

Streaks of Lucky

The next question is: what happens when work benefits you more than what it normally provides by standard: ie laundry money and allowances for eating square meals whilst sheltered? With no direct agenda, it was quite a serendipitous March because of a schedule that allowed me to visit two good friends over the period of two weeks, even though they are both half the world away from myself and from each other. And both trips kinda just fell on my lap. What can you say? Happy Days.

3 Weeks ago I got to visit Eric in Taiwan. Id been meaning to visit Eric for the last two years, ever since he was assigned there by his company. He was due to move back this summer, so I was running out of time. I didnt think it was actually going to happen. A week after getting back from Colombia, I was asked to head to Taiwan for a job. Great right? Only problem was, Eric wasnt going to even be there when I got there. He was on vacation in Japan. HA! It worked out though that he would arrive back the same day I was suppose to finish the Taiwan Job. Staying a bit longer on, we set up a weekend on the tail end.

Thoughts on Taiwan: its more expensive than I thought it would be. Euro prices, at least on the high street store side of things. Another thing that I didnt expect is that it has a the 'feel' of Japanese influence, you can feel it looking around at the street: Note quite completely Chinatown, there is a flavor Tokyo. Speaking of Tokyo, the only associate I had with me was a Japanese guy from our Japanese partner company. Just me and him. Neither of us could speak Chineses, and we had to find food in the evening this way. Like a broken record for everytime I am in Asia, I was useless. I still cant communicate worth beans. Maruno-san however, was prepared: first he could read the odd character, since Japanese characters are based on Chinese characters. As well, he was technologically prepared with an electronic translator. God bless the Japanese and their gadgets. It meant I could eat food! Otherwise Id being frequenting the 7-11s and eating hotdogs and chips all week.

Weekend with Eric was a different story. With no communication barrier, he knew exactly what I was craving to eat, without me even asking. I just followed. Bubble tea: check. Dumplings: check. Thai food: check. Sushi: check. It was amazing. Everything that I had been deprived of in Dundalk was suddenly an avalanche of plenty. And then we went out in Taipei. A surreal experience that is better expressed by one of Eric's quotes that night "Im surprised to see white girls here. Its because there is a wedding. Normally they never show up here. Its because, compared to all these other girls, they all look too fat in comparison"

Using a work trip as a vehicle to spend an awesome weekend with a good friend who lives far away, these are rare. It takes mostly luck and timing. It would be only natural to expect that it would be a while before I could pull that off again. A long while... like say 2 weeks. Happily, two weeks later, I was with Jill in New York, and she had just moved there two weeks earlier. I got the title of first visitor. Im still waiting for the t-shirt and commemorative pin.

I love New York. I especially love New York when you know someone living there: no more extortionate hotel bills. And I especially especially love New York when your friend lives in an awesome apartment in the Upper Westside, 4 blocks away from Central Park, and 2 blocks away from Grays Papaya Hotdogs. Like comeon! And I especially especially especially love New York (thats especially cubed, Blam!) when, by location, you are even more open to random celebrity spotting because of the immediate proximity of these celebrity peoples. Jill and I were walking only 3 blocks away from her apartment on Amsterdam and 75th, on a Sunday morning. Bono was also walking there. Muther-effin Bono, singer of a rock band called U2. Perhaps you've heard of them. See, that doesnt happen in Dundalk. No effin way. South Dublin, maybe, but south Dublin wouldnt also have Justin Timberlake and Jessica Biel, Jay Z and Beyonce, Robert Deniro, Harrison Ford, Rihanna. And these are only the heavyweights, it completely discounts the Tina Feys and Liam Neesons and Ben Aflecks and Kelly Ripas. Im a pop culture guy, so I love this shiesse. They can be shopping for groceries in the same crazy insane busy grocery store. You never know. I encourage Jill to create a journal. And itll probably fill fast.

Of course we had good food too, and shopping and all that other good stuff. yaya. Bliss hair and body products. Cupcakes. Cookies. Hotdogs. I love cubed the hotdogs.

Sweet Home Louisiana

By far my most favorite place in the whole wide world, is the deep Southern United States. ( right after Kolkata India that is). From those parenthesis, you should probably pick up on my sarcasm. Why the derision? One. The food is so decadently bad, yet in heaping portions so you actually 'feel' yourself get heavier meal by meal. Two. I cant relate to anyone at all. And Tres. Most times with the accents I really think they are playin, when in actuality, they dont play it at all.

Oh yes, and heres why. I arrived at my Hotel " How y'all doin?" God bless. Its starts right away. Um.. I cant help notice the obvious flaw in this throw away greeting: Not only is it fairly lazy in pronunciation, there is no 'all' here at all, its just me. Id actually prefer a New York style 'how's yous doin?". At least it correctly follows english plurality theory. Dont get me wrong, I do love listening to it though, and everyone is so nice and warm and welcoming and friendly. Its simple speak, and I cant help but feel like a Harvard scholar down here, I cant help it. I can't. Even though we all know Im not. Suddenly, just by geography, I feel like the most eloquent man in the land. Also, its a great accent when someone is telling a joke. Cuz, in that context, its like Im listening to Larry the Cable guy, get 'er done.

So its my last night in Shreveport Louisiana, or as Sid's dad calls it "Loheesh-she-awhna". Last time I was here, I went for the Gumbo, the crawfish, the Po boys, all the lovely famous local stuff, minus the Grits. (I still dont know what they are, Grits scare me) This time I was dying for some Mexican, and ended up going Mexican for my first 3 meals. One of the meals I was deeply dissappointed in though was the Olive Garden. Now I hadnt been in almost, I dont know, 5-6 years. But my memories of Olive Garden are good. Pretty good. Along with Taco Bell, it was actually a favorite during USA excursions. I dont know what has changed though in that time, maybe the restaurant, but most likely me, because I didnt rate it all this time. Is was poor. It use to have Cheerleader status. Now Im afraid I have to downgrade it to Band camp status. This really threw me. I guess this is what happens when you start frequenting Italy, and start realizing cookie cutter franchises will always end up diluting the quality of the product. Its like before I didnt really know any better, so I was perfectly content. Now, this time, I didn't even finish half the Capellini Pomodoro, but probably that had more to do with the portions which was enough to feed a filipino family.

Tomorrow morning, heading to NYC. Im getting tingles.

All Killers, no Fillers.. All these things that I have done

Im beaming. Absolutely, fantabulously beaming. I just went to one of the best Concerts Ive ever gone to. But Im in a spot of bother, however. Like, how do I pull off writing about it and relating to people how truly great this concert was? Its a problem. I say that categorically because I will have a hard time overcoming one simple and unavoidable truism: concerts are never as important to the other people not going as they are to people who are going. The only exception: if those people not going... are envious because they wish they were. Its the only exception, the envy. If there is no jealously, its just human nature to fall in the other category and not really give a shit. Much like anything out there that is born out of individual tastes and opinions, concerts are deeply personal experiences that can only be shared effectively with others that own those same passions. Its not universal, not by any means, so anyone else that cannot identify with that kind of zeal, that kind of enthusiasm, simply just wont care as much, and eventually tune out. Maybe even get annoyed because its a waste of his or her time. Unless you are that one impossibly perfect person in the world that likes all music equally fervently, you are going to tune out. I admit it as well, I do it all the time. The first time it happened too me, a friend of mine, when I was in grade 12, was going to the U2 Achtung Baby Concert in Vancouver. He was unbelievably pumped for it, as you do, and talked endlessly non-stop leading up to and immediately proceeding the eventful concert. The problem? He was talking to me as if I felt the same way as him, when in actually I didnt really care. At the time I hadnt been to a concert yet, I was green and didnt understand how much impact a concert like that could have on a person. Moreover, I was more into Kid n Play and Boyz II Men. So sue me. I preferred Rap and R&B to U2. I was only 17 and knew dick all about shit. I wish I could take it all back because I absolutely adore U2 now, after I finally matured somewhat, but to my friend, that concert, at that time, was way more important to him than it was to me, and there was no way he would of been able to talk me up, change my mind and make me feel like he did. Only gorgeous girls have those powers. Funny enough, the not caring about a concert story happened again as recently as two days ago as well. Some of the older guys at work were scrambling to get rare tickets to Tina Turners show in Dublin next month. I thought they were nuts.

So How do you defend against that? How do you relate effectively and get the true guts of your point across? The only way I know is by being an unbelievably gifted storyteller and writer, become infectious with undeniable charisma; basically become Barack, that which I sorely am not. Not even if I possessed magically fairy dust to help my feeble skills. But I do suppose, Ill have to blindly and hopelessly give it a lash anyways. Its why Im full of trepidation writing this post; going into it, I just know there will be some profound ambivalence. But then again, haha, to be realistic this reaction of blank emotion is probably not new to any of the handful of people that still read this blog.

That concert was the Killers last night in Belfast. The Killers hold an important and soft spot in my heart, especially relating to my Irish side. When I first moved here in 2004, the fresh, new UK music scene I was exposed to was Snow Patrol, Franz Ferdinand and the Killers. The Killers were the only American band of the 3, but I didnt know that, they had a distinct UK music scene sound, and therefore were much more popular in the UK before anyone even heard of them in the States. If it weren't for the UK, I really think there would not be a Killers band right now. Hot Fuss was the album to have in the Summer of 2004. And the back to back line up of tracks 2 3 4 and 5, I contend, are the best 2 through 5 of any album out there, ever. (I didnt do much research into this one, but it feels right anyways) Mr. Brightside, Smile Like You Mean It, Somebody Told Me, and then finally anchored by All These Things That I Have Done. And All These Things is quite possibly my favorite song this decade.

Much like any classics, these songs are as good now as they were four years ago. They havent grown tired, or they havent to me anyways. Add Sam's Town, their second album to the mix, and add to that the recent Human release from the Day and Night 3rd Album, which I think is an absolutely sublime song ... it has the right ingredients, the right foundation for Concert Formidable. Or as good a concert as can possibly be for a band that is only 3 albums old.

I take it the Killers maybe dont quite resonate nearly as much as an Iconic rock act like the Rolling Stones or U2, and for good reason, they havent been around long enough. They dont even transcend as much as Coldplay... whose been around a bit longer, and have been incredibly consistent, like a rock n roll Will Smith. But it doesnt take away from the fact that the Killers do put on a really good show. I definitely think so. Proof is in the pudding video I posted below. I tried very hard to keep the camera still, but after a few seconds into the song, I couldnt physically stop myself from jumping up and down, excited like a baby with his first lolipop. So the video goes a little loco for just a little bit; that was me, I really I couldnt help it...

I love this movie

Whats up. Im just back to Ireland from a South American trip, but lets pay no mind to that just yet..

Guess whats on TV right now... its even better news.

The Fast and the Furious..

boyah. Ive only watched this movie about a 100 times... give or take a dozen. Its that astounding. Its soo good that when it plays for free on terrestrial TV, I go ahead and blog about it. I think the last time I did that was 4 years ago (oh gawd) with Karate Kid. And for the sake of this posting, Im not talking about 2 Fast, or Tokyo Drift. They barely count because it gots no Vin Diesel. Or Jordana Brewster.

Why is this movie so good? Classically its not. But in terms of a movie for a generation, theres no better. I cant really even explain it. Its just enjoyable to no end. It just is. It makes me giddy! Im giggling... its absurd. And its timeless, apart from that dated Ja Rule on the soundtrack and the dated Playstation in the chinese racer's car. What it does have, is complete ludicrosity. Like since when did NOs work that way, and since when was my future wife attracted to Paul Walker, and since when did people just casually pull out rolls of 2 large from their front pocket, to bet during line races. Better still, it is essentially the exact same movie as "Point Break" but with cars instead of surfboards. If you are going to rip off a movie idea, might as well use the best, right?

And most importantly, there is Marty and I's favorite movie scene of all time.. in the desert when Mia turns around and walks away as the dust flies... Ohhh soo much cinematographic perfection it blows the mind..

The bonus... Fast and Furious comes out this summer. New Model. Original Parts. Im excited beyond ... everything. I might even have to fly to New York to watch it with Jill, because it seems that appropriate. Seriously.. only if Eric and Marty were closer.

"For those 10 seconds or less, Im free" Is there a better enjoyably cheese ball line? NOPE.