Thursday, December 6, 2007

A Guide to London: Part 1. Sketch both fun and unfun.

So. I’ve failed as a cultural correspondent. It seems that going out and having fun / a lot of school work, makes you not want to write about some of the strange shit that has gone down around you. So now, trying to procrastinate from writing one of the dumbest essays I’ve ever had to write I shall start sketching (10 points for the pun. Count it!) out my impressions of London. I’m going to start out with the super sketch stuff because it’s more fun. So come, take my hand and lets breath in deep some of the Big Smoke.

So you want drugs do you? Well that’s good news because they are fucking everywhere. And apparently everybody wants to sell them to you. I’m not joking about that either, you walk two feet into Soho or Camden (or fuck it just leave the Tube Station in Camden) and around 15 people will try to sell you some crazy shit. Pills (on the way to a club called Fabric a friend of mine bought nine pills for ten pounds, she told me she doesn’t normally buy pills of the street she only buys pills from people she knows. After swallowing the first pill she says “Well… I can taste the speed,” and then takes two more. Double bonus points: the girl doesn’t really drink or smoke up. Kids here are nuts), poppers (I don’t even know what a popper is but my English friend told me it’s like a wippit and glue huffing mixed together. I then asked him if he ever huffed glue. He said “Fook off brov’, what ie do in my own time is my own biz. Ya goot that.”), pot, coke (when my mom came to visit me some guy we walked past and says “Hey lady you wanna buy your kid some blow?” Amazing.), and once I got offered smack and then another time Viagra. That was a confusing one. But then my friend told me that when you are in a brothel neighbourhood (such as Soho or Camden) guys just sell that shit. Brothel neighbourhoods? “Yeah brothel neighbourhoods.” I don’t see any brothels. “You see those open doors that say ‘models’, well that’s a brothel.” No way! The cops don’t care? “Nope as long as it’s not advertised as sex, or soliciting on the street cops don’t give a shit. Pot is decriminalized too, I could take out a little baggie and wave it in a cops face and all he would do is tell me to fuck off.” Holy shit! England is like the prim and proper version of Amsterdam! Except because it’s not really legal it still fuels all sorts of crime and nastiness so they set up cameras everywhere and track you at all time, that gives London this 1984esq vibe. Only place I’ve ever been where you need ID to get out of places. Way to fucking go England! Generally don’t buy drugs off of people on the street. In fact, just don’t talk to people on the street. Or make eye contact. Why? Well that leads me to my next little section.

The people of the city of London will try and fight you for any reason. ANY REASON. These are all true reasons why I have almost gotten beaten up (one of these happened to a friend in all fairness and not me): Because of being bumped into on a packed dance floor. Talking to a girl that another person was looking at from across the room. Being from America. Being from somewhere other then England. Sitting on a bus. Asking a man to put his dog back on a leash (this resulted in a kid on my floor getting a huge black eye). Momentarily making eye contact. Not liking a band. Not understanding their drunken slurred English. Mentioning colonialism in a non positive light. Talking shit about the Queen. And finally just generally being alive. I have managed to weasel and apologize my way out of every confrontation I’ve found myself in. Other people have not been so lucky.

However watching street fights can be endlessly amusing. The best time to look for said street brawls are between the hours of 2am and 4am, in one of these three locations: Camden, Kings Cross, or Fargington. Soho is another possibility but not a guaranty. Well its 3am and you are in one of the three afore mentioned places. What do you do now you ask? Find a Kabab shop. Stand to the side and wait, back up against a wall taking up as little space as possible (this is so nobody bumps into you and then punches you in the face for being a “wanker.” I have seen this happen). Wait. One will start. They can be pretty funny. Hearing them shout in their accents thinks like “You fookin’ cunt!” never gets old. The repartee is generally witty with responses such as “No! You are the fookin’ cunt!” and “Blllllllargacuntaaargagesav.” How can it not be good times.

Good times until somebody gets stabbed that is. There’s an average of around 180 something stabbings a day here. And it’s not like NY were you really need to antagonize somebody to get stabbed. Apparently people just go buck fucking wild with stabbings here. Let me give you an example of why this is very very scary.

If you get into a fight in NY, the worst that will generally happen is that you get beaten badly and the offender will flag down a cab (if he or she is kind), or just leave you on the side walk.

If you get into a fight in London, there is about a 25% chance that the person you are fighting will whip out a knife and kill you. There is also a 5% chance somebody who is just watching will whip out a knife and kill you, because - fuck - why not. Its not like the cops actually catch these people.

If you are mugged in NY, the mugger may brandish a knife and tell you to give him all of your money, cell phone, and iPod or whatever. You give them to him. He tells you not to move for two min and then runs away. You are scared shitless, but alive.

If you are mugged in London, the mugger will come up to you ask you for a smoke. You will take out your pack and then hand them one. They will then stab you several times in the gut, take your pack of smokes, your wallet, your cell phone, your jacket if its not bloody, and your shoes then run off into the night.

Oh yeah, on a side note, I read in the paper this morning that some dude is running around south London whacking people with a meat cleaver. Like running up. Wacking. Then running away. He hasn’t killed anybody yet but he has caused some damage. What the fuck is up with this town?

Now dear readers please wait six more weeks for my next instalment. Pubs Clubs and Drinks.

LDR out.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Things I never knew. And Maybe Wish I Didn’t.

So I was talking to these two girls here in my dorm about getting high. We were talking about things we like to do while high: watching movies, reading, doing arty things, and what have you…When I said oh shit! We forgot the best thing to do while high. One of the girls turned to me and said “Sleep?” Very close I said. Fuck! The girl who said sleep looks over and says: “Hell no.” And I’m just flat out astounded. How is that possible, I ask her? “I have a thing about being touched when I’m high. I don’t like it. It makes having sex while stoned nearly impossible.” Fair play. The other girl agrees with me that it is, indeed, wonderful. And then drops this little gem. “But only sometimes.” And so I ask her why only sometimes…and well there is a long pause while she thinks about what she is going to say next.


“Well you know how you sometimes you cottonmouth when you get high?”

Sure I said.

“Yeah…well…”

I drink some water? I mean if you drink some water, kissing isn’t bad at all while stoned. You can nip that cottonmouth right in the bud. Drink some water, make out, drink some water. Fuck. Drink some water. No need to really worry about cottonmouthing if you are prepared, says I.

“No. You don’t get it. I’m not really talking about cottonmouth. I’m talking about cotton…you know

Wah Huh?

Neither of the girls say anything and just stare at me.

Oooooh. I get it! Cottonvag!

Wait what?

No fucking way!

“Exactly.”


I never even thought about that. I mean I guess it makes sense. But I’m wondering if this is a unique problem or a widespread problem. So I ask you ladies of this blog and fellow female posters, is cottonvag a problem? Like for real? Inquiring minds wish to know!

LDR out.

Saturday, December 1, 2007


the other night momoneymobitches and i were out smoking on our fire escape and we watched a bald man get naked and put his ass to the window and pray like in a mosque

it was nice

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Peking Dogg Lesson 3: 打飞机

This is just a quick vocab lesson. The Chinese slang for "to cum" is 打飞机 (da feiji) or "hit the airplane." Just thought I'd let you know.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

It's true, ass city

BREAKING NEWS....actually, not all.


Shmo**
AIM
7:39
if only i were gay
7:39
man
7:39
if i were gay
7:39
i'd get soooooooooooooooo much ass
7:40
it would be out of control

molls****
AIM
7:41
AAHAHH
7:41
youre right
7:41
do you think about that a lot?

Shmo**
AIM
7:41
sometimes
7:41
when i get lonely
7:42
i think to myself
7:42
if i were gay
7:42
i wouldn't be lonely
7:42
so then i try think about a man sexually. And instead of getting hard i wanna throw up a little. So i guess its just a moot point
7:42
but man
7:42
the sudden realization that i was gay
7:42
would be a blessing
7:43
most people would probably freak out
7:43
i would just think
7:43
oh shit i'm never going to have to worry about ejaculating ever again

molls****
AIM
7:45
i dont even know where to begin

Shmo**
AIM
7:45
its true
7:45
ass city
7:45
curse my genetics for making me straight
7:45
have you ever thought of what a gay bar or lesbian bar is acutally like for them?
7:45
YOU CAN FUCK EVERYBODY THEIR
7:45
EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THAT BAR
7:46
IS OPEN TO YOU FUCKING THEM
7:46
a normal bar
7:46
have guys half girls
7:46
all competing for the other half
7:46
so not only do you have to worry about finding the right girl who is appealing to you
7:46
you have to worry about the other half of the bar
7:46
getting to her first

molls****
AIM
7:47
what else attracts you about the gay lifestyle?

Shmo**
AIM
7:47
you can say sexist things and get away with it


There's more but it gets freaky and raw and this is a family blog.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

The Craziest Shit I've Ever Done


So, last night, after going to a German restaurant and drinking all-you-can-drink beer until closing time, I decided it would be a great idea to break into the Chinese Olympic Stadium, also known as The Bird's Nest, and steal some shit.

So after getting dropped off by the cab near some gate to a migrant worker camp, my three friends and myself start planning our entrance. We knew how to say International Olympic Quality Committee in Chinese, so we decided to go with that. We're American inspectors for the International Olympic Quality Committee coming to inspect the construction of the new stadium. And just in case, we all had 100 RMB bills in our hands.

We walked through the gate, and started to celebrate, thinking we'd just made it into the stadium without any problems, then a guard started shouting at us and we freeze. This is when our first stroke of genius comes in. The guard tells us we have to leave, but, in broken Chinese, we plead that we just want to look around and we're Americans and we can't make it to the Olympics so we just want to see the beautiful stadium because it's so impressive. After about 10 minutes of this, he finally lets us in, for a price of course...

So we were on the compound, but we had to cross a field that reminded me of 1942 Stalingrad. Trenches, barbed wire, heavy machinery, and flood lights were everywhere. We cross the field, avoiding several guards and workers, and get to the stadium itself. Well, then there was nothing to do but start climbing. After finding a staircase, we climbed over the guardrail and starting walking up to the top tier. This is when stroke of genius no. 2 hits, and we decide we should probably piss everywhere. One of my friends drops a deuce in the middle of the stairwell. It was not pretty, but it had to be done.

Finally we get to the top tier, after running across a steel girder spanning a 200 foot drop. This is about when I called fellow bloggers, only one of whom answered. You know who you are.

Ok, this is getting long, so I'll sum up. We got out into the seats (which was an amazing view) and found a box and decided it needed to be opened, and it turned out it contained like 15 seats that hadn't been installed yet, so we all stole one. Now I have a seat from the Olympics in my closet sitting on my laundry and I have to find a way to bring it home and turn it into a chair so I can put it in my room at school and show it off.

Ok I'm out.

A Dogg

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Homo-Alert: Australia

As if you needed another reason besides Jemaine's cockandballs to hate all over Australia, check out this fucked up piece of news which caught my eye during my routine morning googlization of "hang spoons from nipples":

PERTH, Australia (AFP) — An Australian barmaid who entertained patrons by crushing beer cans between her bare breasts and hanging spoons off her nipples has been fined, police said Wednesday. Luana De Faveri, 31, was fined 1,000 dollars while an off-duty colleague, Tracey Leslie, 43, has been fined 500 dollars for hanging spoons from De Faveri's nipples.

Um, what a bunch of queerballs. Crushing beer cans between your bare breasts is awesome and HARD, y'all, just ask Diana. That shit is an art, and that barmaid is an artist, it's like if someone tried to fine Robbie Williams.


Also, I wish I had an off-duty colleague who'd fucking hang spoons off my nipples! In the past every time I'd ask Lily to help me out she'd get all coy and say "now now, you know I can't give away my secret techniques" and I'd say "Uch spread the WEALTH" but recently when we went to the Tyra Banks show and had to pass through metal detectors for Tyra's protection the truth came out as Lily whispered to the security guard "I can't go through there, my nipples are magnetic." CHEATER!


In any case, I knew I never liked Australia, what with their koala wrestling and those motherfucking Outback Steakhouse commercials, but this tatter-intolerance seals the deal yo.