Thursday, June 25, 2009

SFW Amersterdanian Adventures

Needless to say, the trip to Europe was tight. Rather then rehash all the absurdities that kept me awake till the wee hours of the morn and dragged me right out of bed soon after, I'll drop the occurrences one story at a time.

Location: Amsterdam, Netherlands

Obvious to all reading when considering the location of this story and my extracurricular activities, I spent all day basking in Amsterdam's rich history. Sufficiently high on culture, my brother and I walked over to a park to throw a disc for a bit. Three throws in, he sends it right into the center of this tepid and brackish pond, too still to nurture the hope of the wind taking it to shore. My brother, aware of how much this disc means to me (my world travels disc has gone with me to 13 different countries at this point) immediately disrobes to his skivvies and prepares to jump in.




A local runs up to him with a look of concern in her eye and tries to talk him out of fetching my disc with stories of broken glass, tetanus, and forearm length leaches. After about a minute of convincing my brother that he's going to die a horrifically tragic death if he jumps in, another local walks and tells us of how she went swimming in there not a week ago and that people hop in all the time. A good 15 minutes of Vacillation ensues until a third local strolls on up, clearly stoned out of his gourd, with a huge German Shepard mix. He casually picks up a stick and throws it just past the disc and to the gathered crowd's delight, the dog paddles on out and brings back the disc.



Thankfully, I was spared having to explain to my parents how my brother got both tetnaus and cholera retrieving a plastic dinner plate.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Alternatives to Alternative Romantic Manuvers

1) Dirty Sanchez: Take a romantic vacation in Acapulco, go mud hiking all day, then fall asleep cuddling during an intimate bath in a five star resort.

2) The Switcharoo: Get a massage table and commence supreme oily backrub. Midtask, preferably when your vast skillset puts your better half to sleep, have a close friend of yours swap in. Stealthily leave, prepare an intimiate candlelight dinner in a romantic setting, and put on a suit/dress. Signal to your friend to wake up your sleeping mate and indicate that "The sir/madame is waiting for you in the great hall." Score relationship points.

3) The Houdini: During that heightened moment in a sexual encounter where your partner ceases to understand the world around him/her and can only yell "yes" on repeat, propose marriage.

4) Cleveland Steamer: Move to Cleveland, date an immensely zealous sports fan, and wait for either the Browns, Bengals, Cavaliers, or the Indians to win a championship. Go to the celebration parade, and introduce your significant other to the star player of whatever team took home the gold, and watch her spontanously combust. Then poop on her chest.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Elicits an Emotional Response: Public Transportation

1) Anyone reading a comic book that isn't "Watchmen."

2) People who don't move to the back of the bus. Do you think the driver keeps pushing the button that blares "will all standing passengers, please move to the rear of the bus" for your enjoyment?

3) Anyone who requires more than three seconds to react to their obnoxious earsplitting ringtones. The commuting populace does not care how hip your ringtone is. I imagine I'm not the only one who pukes in his mouth under the assault by Lil' John's nauseating "YEAH!" no matter who's pocket it comes from. The high volume setting is meant for airport gate attendants and metallica bouncers, not nursing students.

4) Friendly people at 7am. I do not consider myself unapproachable or standoffish by any means and apologize to anyone I've offended thus far, but at 7am, I have no friends, only obstacles in they way of my sleeping through the commute.

5) Hobos who swear at me if I refuse their panhandling. I do not justly deserve vituperation just because my washing machine and Chicago's parking meters pacman every quarter I get my hands on. If you truly have to yell, call me a "penurious miser" or some such, not a string of nonsensical vulgarities.