Visually interesting building outside my girlfriends house. Also just trying new things: this picture was taken on my phone, uploaded with Evernote, downloaded to my tablet, then uploaded with a Tumblr app.
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the day i mistook a club for a country
I got my ticket to Curacao through priceline. I could either show up a day early for $300, or $700 for the next day. Saving $400 to spend an extra day in paradise didn’t really seem like a difficult choice, but it left me with the problem of finding a place to stay for the night. I’ve stayed in a few hostels in a few countries, but while I like to pretend to be old hat when it comes to sniffing out a cheap place to crash in foreign territory, the fact remains: every country is different. I was warned that, outside of the touristy resort area (which I’ve expressed a snobby, pretentious dislike for to anyone who’d listen), there wasn’t many safe opportunities available to travelers. I ended up staying at the Floris hotel. Cost me about a hundred bucks for the night, but, considering I had to spend $100 to save $400, I still came out ahead.
This left me the new problem of what to do all day. I had no clue how to explore the island, and my tried and true method of “just walk until you find something” quickly proved fruitless. I checked out of the Floris at ten. Check in at the Marriott wasn’t until four. I don’t like swimming and I don’t like volleyball, so what the hell was I supposed to do? Drink, of course.
By the time 4pm rolled around, most of the other students were just starting to show up. I was uncharacteristically outgoing by then, my natural tendency toward shyness completely demolished by the seven or eight scotches I’d sucked down. I kept drinking, and ended up wandering into the hot tub (another incredibly non-Bobian thing to do!) with some new friends, where we met some other law students on the Hofstra program. It’s easy to tell who’s in law school just by overhearing a few minutes of conversation; none of us seem capable of discussing anything other than school after enough time. These girls were bitching about Property. Or Evidence. idk, I was drunk.
“We were going to Bermuda to party,” they said. “Do you want to come?” A chance to visit another island on my second night here, fuck yeah I wanna go! I gave them my numb and went back to my room to “get ready.” I immediately passed out.
I woke up to the sound of a phone ringing, and my roommate (who I had never seen before) telling them I was asleep. My head was hurting; I think I was already hungover. Ain’t missing this, though. I groggily took the phone from him. “Yeah. I’ll be down in a minute. I’ll bring him.” I told my roommate that we were going to Bermuda, he should bring his passport, c’mon, let’s go. He gave me an odd look, but chose not to say anything (an admirable quality in a roommate; we should get along nicely). We met the group (about ten of us) in the lobby, and after the excruciatingly slow bout of introductions, which I immediately forgot, crammed into a taxi. On our way to the ferry I guess.
Even when the taxi pulled up to a massive shaking building with the neon red “BERMUDA” sign, techno blaring, I hadn’t figured it out yet. Even after waiting in line, buying tickets to enter, and having some bouncer demand I remove my Nintendo hat (not cool enough?), I wasn’t sure what was going on. Finally, after buying the tokens I needed to get drinks (Curacao clubs operate on the Chuckee Cheese business model, I guess) and wandering through a crowd of dancing natives and tourists did I realize I was in a club.
I hate clubs.
I still had fun, but it was against my will. Nonconsensual. The fun was forced upon me, as I awkwardly stood in the corner.
The booze probably helped.
Epic Rap Battles of History, 1 - 13, sped up. Nice to see ‘em all on one video, and frankly, it just sounds better fast. Credit to Peter Nice for making these excellent videos, and Anolkill for speeding ‘em up and putting them all together.
I’m in a bad mood today
“You’re obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemn, and know lack all foundation. It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires and all the dead formalities and vain pretenses of your civilization which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality, because at every moment they suppress and restrain and check the free play of your powers. That’s the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world.”
- Octave Mirbeau
Adventures with Foreign Vulgarity
I like to collect odd things - not coins or stamps, but something a little more “abstract.” Titles, for one (I’m a Colonel! And a Reverend!), but I’m particularly fond of learning all the best swear words in a foreign language. Every time I meet someone who speaks a non-English language like a native, I whip out my little notebook and grill them. Interesting way to make friends, I guess, but hey: it’s important to be able to tell someone to fuck off in any language (Va te fair niquer!)
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Well, I know how my next fortress is gonna be modeled. But, um, not to scale. That’s like 100 miles.
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