So I know I've been a bit absent on this thing lately. Here's a quick update:
Been in Krakow for about 5 days. Great town, for reasons which I'll get into soon I promise. Met a couple people here and am heading up to Gdansk for this for the weekend on a whim. Should be a great festival. I'm psyched.
Will be back in Prague early next week where I'll put in a more worthy effort to catch everyone up.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Long Live the City of Titties
So, my Dad told me the other day that I should consider cleaning this blog up a bit, and make it a little more mature. It immediately became clear to me that he didn't understand the nature of this thing at all, and as such, the title of this entry is an homage to that request. Mmmm... titties.... You're welcome, Dad!!!
Seriously though... Prague is incredible. I mean, it's a beautiful city in terms of overall aesthetics and all that; with their many parks and the Vltava River and gorgeous architecture... but the real beauty lies beneath the shirts of the women of the Czech Republic. I've been discussing with my friend Nino, at considerable length mind you, and our concensus opinion (can you have a concensus between two people?) is that it comes down to a combination of the beer and the unpasteurized cheese.
Which brings me to another point: America sucks. Many of you have heard me soapbox my way through a diatribe about America and it's puritanical horsewhipping ways of life. Now, after being in the Czech Republic for two weeks, I've come to realize that it really is as absurd back home as I always thought it was. And now that I know what pasteurizing cheese does to a woman's cup size, I'm even more pissed off!!!
Here in Prague, the shadow of communism still casts a rather long shadow. Aside from the fact that Czechoslovakia split up and became two democratic states just 18 years ago, the communist feel is most present through the permeating vibe of the people. Think of communism in Prague as if it were body odor coming off of an IT guy in a crowded elevator; he knows you smell it, because it's there... but it shouldn't be, and why should I have to put up with 12 floors of rancid funk when it's bad enough I have three months of interest accruals to review? Fuck that guy; take a shower! Even if it's Puerto Rican...
Wait. Where was I? Oh yea, so you sense communism everywhere here. The fashion is borderline absurd, and according to the Czech people I've met, they have a general reluctance to trust strangers. You know, I remember thinking that way too. Yea, in second fucking grade. But after 13 weeks in that basement cellar, I eventually grew the hell up and realized that Uncle Mike was really doing all those things for my own good. And to that effect, I'm sure sooner or later, the Czech people will come to blame communism on their father's alcoholism and absenteeism.
Point is, with all of these indications of recent communist rule, the Czech Republic still manages to be more progressive than America. For one thing, there is no open container law here. If I want a beer on my way to meet people to get drunk on more beer, I'll do it without the foreboding feeling that some a-hole cop is around the corner, and has been waiting all day to ruin my free-wheeling good time so that he can go back to the station and brag to his band of flunkies about what a douche I am for thinking that I could get away with it.
Secondly, beer here is literally cheaper than water. The supermarket price of a 0.5L bottle of Pilsner Urqell: $0.80. Double that if you're swilling them over a ham and eggs breakfast at the cafe around noon the way I do... Ok, 1:30.
Finally, and most importantly, it is socially acceptable for a woman to sunbathe topless in the park here. Granted, it doesn't happen often... but when it does, the birds sing a sweeter tune and I find myself with a spring in my step that just doesn't happen in Tompkins Square. And really, don't all these things add up to what life should really be about? It took these people a few short years to enact policies that dramatically improve their quality of life. Things like drinking cheap (good) beers and ogling boobs in the park are basic human impulses that have been robbed from us without our even knowing it. It's unconscionable, and I won't stand for it.
Aside from all that, I've seen some stuff too that I'm sure translates in rather boring fashion via Lame-O-Blog. I'll hook up some Shutterfly or something to post pictures of things if anyone cares enough to flip through. I'll post the link here when that happens.
In the meantime, I've posted a picture of the fountain in front of the worst museum I've ever stepped foot in. Nevermind that the info was all in Czech; they had about as many fossils in there as I'd likely find on an average night after the early-bird lets out at Shula's Steakhouse in Boca Raton. So, for all of you out there that couldn't wait to hit up the natural history museum here in Prague: keep your shirts on. But you ladies can feel free to shed them in any one of the many parks showcasing a smattering of eye candy for the deprived eyes of oppressed Americans.
NOTE: Blogger was being a douche and wouldn't let me post a picture of the world's worst museum. I'll get that up there when I figure out why the whole world is against me.
Seriously though... Prague is incredible. I mean, it's a beautiful city in terms of overall aesthetics and all that; with their many parks and the Vltava River and gorgeous architecture... but the real beauty lies beneath the shirts of the women of the Czech Republic. I've been discussing with my friend Nino, at considerable length mind you, and our concensus opinion (can you have a concensus between two people?) is that it comes down to a combination of the beer and the unpasteurized cheese.
Which brings me to another point: America sucks. Many of you have heard me soapbox my way through a diatribe about America and it's puritanical horsewhipping ways of life. Now, after being in the Czech Republic for two weeks, I've come to realize that it really is as absurd back home as I always thought it was. And now that I know what pasteurizing cheese does to a woman's cup size, I'm even more pissed off!!!
Here in Prague, the shadow of communism still casts a rather long shadow. Aside from the fact that Czechoslovakia split up and became two democratic states just 18 years ago, the communist feel is most present through the permeating vibe of the people. Think of communism in Prague as if it were body odor coming off of an IT guy in a crowded elevator; he knows you smell it, because it's there... but it shouldn't be, and why should I have to put up with 12 floors of rancid funk when it's bad enough I have three months of interest accruals to review? Fuck that guy; take a shower! Even if it's Puerto Rican...
Wait. Where was I? Oh yea, so you sense communism everywhere here. The fashion is borderline absurd, and according to the Czech people I've met, they have a general reluctance to trust strangers. You know, I remember thinking that way too. Yea, in second fucking grade. But after 13 weeks in that basement cellar, I eventually grew the hell up and realized that Uncle Mike was really doing all those things for my own good. And to that effect, I'm sure sooner or later, the Czech people will come to blame communism on their father's alcoholism and absenteeism.
Point is, with all of these indications of recent communist rule, the Czech Republic still manages to be more progressive than America. For one thing, there is no open container law here. If I want a beer on my way to meet people to get drunk on more beer, I'll do it without the foreboding feeling that some a-hole cop is around the corner, and has been waiting all day to ruin my free-wheeling good time so that he can go back to the station and brag to his band of flunkies about what a douche I am for thinking that I could get away with it.
Secondly, beer here is literally cheaper than water. The supermarket price of a 0.5L bottle of Pilsner Urqell: $0.80. Double that if you're swilling them over a ham and eggs breakfast at the cafe around noon the way I do... Ok, 1:30.
Finally, and most importantly, it is socially acceptable for a woman to sunbathe topless in the park here. Granted, it doesn't happen often... but when it does, the birds sing a sweeter tune and I find myself with a spring in my step that just doesn't happen in Tompkins Square. And really, don't all these things add up to what life should really be about? It took these people a few short years to enact policies that dramatically improve their quality of life. Things like drinking cheap (good) beers and ogling boobs in the park are basic human impulses that have been robbed from us without our even knowing it. It's unconscionable, and I won't stand for it.
Aside from all that, I've seen some stuff too that I'm sure translates in rather boring fashion via Lame-O-Blog. I'll hook up some Shutterfly or something to post pictures of things if anyone cares enough to flip through. I'll post the link here when that happens.
In the meantime, I've posted a picture of the fountain in front of the worst museum I've ever stepped foot in. Nevermind that the info was all in Czech; they had about as many fossils in there as I'd likely find on an average night after the early-bird lets out at Shula's Steakhouse in Boca Raton. So, for all of you out there that couldn't wait to hit up the natural history museum here in Prague: keep your shirts on. But you ladies can feel free to shed them in any one of the many parks showcasing a smattering of eye candy for the deprived eyes of oppressed Americans.
NOTE: Blogger was being a douche and wouldn't let me post a picture of the world's worst museum. I'll get that up there when I figure out why the whole world is against me.
UPDATE: here it is. Worst. Museum. Ever.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Guess who I/me is/am??
I arrived in Amsterdam early Friday (6/1/07) afternoon. Having been there before, I'd committed myself to getting reacquainted with the city I'd spent 4-5 days in back in 2002. After ditching my oversized Kelty Players Papoose and leaving a note that I'd be back to catch dinner with the Tascas (in whose tiny hotel holding cell I was staying), I set out to re-explore the town.
Wandering through the Leidseplein and up The Dam was exactly as I remembered it. Honestly, I'm not sure the place has changed at all. In fact, I think the same bum duped me and my bleeding heart out of a Euro. Only this time, that shit was $1.35 instead of $0.93. Once I made that calculation, I had half a mind to beat his ass, but the realist in me said "fuck it, I stand no chance against a guy who's lasted 5 years on the same street corner, when all I did was complain about 4 years at Credit Suisse."
45 minutes of aimless meandering later, I said nearly aloud "who are we really kidding?" and dove into a coffee shop while wondering who I thought "we" might be in that sentence. 45 minutes after that, I knew exactly who it was. My conversation with myself went roughly as follows:
Me: I can sit here in this coffee shop all day. Damn, they play good music here. Is this the new Arctic Monkeys? Didn't Jones say they were playing soon?
Myself: That kid is probably plotting the death of half of Bangalore right now. This coffee sure is yummy.
Me: I should text Abhay, and call him Abhay. Where does that kid get off changing his name from something simple like Abe to something totally anti-beef like Abhay? Is he a vegetarian now?
Myself: He's probably with Hamas now.
Me: Hummus, Hamas... same thing, really. We've got to get out of this place.
Me: Good call, dude. Not about the hummus, because that didn't make any sense at all. But we don't stand a chance of making it back to the hotel by 7 if we... hey, this is the Arctic Monkeys!
Myself: Stay focused.
Me (standing up): Standing up seemed much easier to accomplish in theory than in reality. Why is water so expensive here?
Myself (after exiting said coffee shop): that bench over there looks good to sit/lay down.
Me (standing in the middle of a small square 15 feet from the coffee shop): Dude, don't be some dumb wacked American tourist. That shit's embarrassing.
Myself: I'm sorry, I'm wacked. I got us out of the coffee shop. Now it's your turn.
Me: This is embarrassing.
Myself: We really need to work together, here!!
I: How many people are talking inside my head right now??
Me/Myself/I: We all really need to sit down and stop staring at that guy's girlfriend.
So, after bravely walking out of the coffee shop with the intent to make progress towards a goal, I made it about 15 feet, then doubled back 6 feet, and sat still for about an hour and wondered if anyone was looking at me, I, or we.
Wandering through the Leidseplein and up The Dam was exactly as I remembered it. Honestly, I'm not sure the place has changed at all. In fact, I think the same bum duped me and my bleeding heart out of a Euro. Only this time, that shit was $1.35 instead of $0.93. Once I made that calculation, I had half a mind to beat his ass, but the realist in me said "fuck it, I stand no chance against a guy who's lasted 5 years on the same street corner, when all I did was complain about 4 years at Credit Suisse."
45 minutes of aimless meandering later, I said nearly aloud "who are we really kidding?" and dove into a coffee shop while wondering who I thought "we" might be in that sentence. 45 minutes after that, I knew exactly who it was. My conversation with myself went roughly as follows:
Me: I can sit here in this coffee shop all day. Damn, they play good music here. Is this the new Arctic Monkeys? Didn't Jones say they were playing soon?
Myself: That kid is probably plotting the death of half of Bangalore right now. This coffee sure is yummy.
Me: I should text Abhay, and call him Abhay. Where does that kid get off changing his name from something simple like Abe to something totally anti-beef like Abhay? Is he a vegetarian now?
Myself: He's probably with Hamas now.
Me: Hummus, Hamas... same thing, really. We've got to get out of this place.
Me: Good call, dude. Not about the hummus, because that didn't make any sense at all. But we don't stand a chance of making it back to the hotel by 7 if we... hey, this is the Arctic Monkeys!
Myself: Stay focused.
Me (standing up): Standing up seemed much easier to accomplish in theory than in reality. Why is water so expensive here?
Myself (after exiting said coffee shop): that bench over there looks good to sit/lay down.
Me (standing in the middle of a small square 15 feet from the coffee shop): Dude, don't be some dumb wacked American tourist. That shit's embarrassing.
Myself: I'm sorry, I'm wacked. I got us out of the coffee shop. Now it's your turn.
Me: This is embarrassing.
Myself: We really need to work together, here!!
I: How many people are talking inside my head right now??
Me/Myself/I: We all really need to sit down and stop staring at that guy's girlfriend.
So, after bravely walking out of the coffee shop with the intent to make progress towards a goal, I made it about 15 feet, then doubled back 6 feet, and sat still for about an hour and wondered if anyone was looking at me, I, or we.
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