No worries to everybody, I did get an actual Thanksgiving dinner, although the fascists at the United Nations required that I work that day. These kinds of things are borderline un-American, but when I told them all I got was the whole "we're not an American organization" story. No respect for the modern day hegemon.
But anyways, all was well. A bunch of the American interns at the tribunal threw a bit of a pot luck Thanksgiving dinner after work, with turkey and all the trimmings.
This year, as fate would have it, I got to continue my Thanksgiving tradition of spending some time with a coonass. While this years festivities did not include frying a turkey in Whitey's garage with the mighty coonass duo of him and Boudreaux, the neighbor of the broads who were hosting the dinner came over. And wouldn't you know it, she is a genuine coonass whose family never left Nova Scotia. Goes by the name of Comeaux. So the streak is still alive.
Needless to say, good times were had by all, even by the coonass French Canadian and the two regular Frenchies that were invited as well.
27 November 2007
The RedBull Knockout or: How to anger a Swiss girl by holding a motorcycle race on the beach.
Last Sunday was spent at Schreveningen for the Second Annual RedBull Knockout, and believe me, it was glorious. It consisted of 500 bikes tearing ass on the beach for upwards of three hours. Some, like my Swiss officemate say this is madness, but nay, I say, there is no better a sight than motorcycles flying through the air for hours on end.
Also, whilst at the race, Chris and I went to get some fries at the fry stand. Now, I have known for some time that the Dutch loved their french fries, but I was unaware as to the level of seriousness they directed towards their fry consumption. Whilst in line, two men got into an argument about their respective positions in the fry line, and fisticuffs ensued. There was a 30 second or so brawl and about 15 minutes of Dutch jawing afterwards, all over some delicious Belgian style fries. So take heed, never get between a Dutchman and his fries.
Don't ever say I didn't warn you.
Also, a few photos were taken, and as an added treat, a couple of videos courtesy of the good folks at Youtube and my digital camera. Ain't technology great.
This is one of the first few laps in the opening segment. Craziness ensued with 500 bikes in one race. The track was quite large, but it still made for a dense, and therefore excellent race.
This is the start of the Knockout round, where they knocked out ten riders a lap after the first ten laps. You can hear them pin it all the way down the long front stretch, sounds glorious with the thumpers mixed with strokers.
This is not my video, but someone else that took a much better one of the same event.
Between this and the Last Man Standing, RedBull can do no wrong.
Your winner ladies and gentlemen, Frenchman Timotei Potisek, in all his blurry glory. He took home 15,000 Euros, which is not too shabby for an afternoon's work.
You can see the start here in the back. It was a heap more impressive in person.
This guy endoed just before this. It took him about five minutes to get his bike back up and going. He looked pretty injured, but kept on going. You have to respect that kind of determination.
The bikes were about this dense the entire 60 minute qualifier.
Also, whilst at the race, Chris and I went to get some fries at the fry stand. Now, I have known for some time that the Dutch loved their french fries, but I was unaware as to the level of seriousness they directed towards their fry consumption. Whilst in line, two men got into an argument about their respective positions in the fry line, and fisticuffs ensued. There was a 30 second or so brawl and about 15 minutes of Dutch jawing afterwards, all over some delicious Belgian style fries. So take heed, never get between a Dutchman and his fries.
Don't ever say I didn't warn you.
Also, a few photos were taken, and as an added treat, a couple of videos courtesy of the good folks at Youtube and my digital camera. Ain't technology great.
This is one of the first few laps in the opening segment. Craziness ensued with 500 bikes in one race. The track was quite large, but it still made for a dense, and therefore excellent race.
This is the start of the Knockout round, where they knocked out ten riders a lap after the first ten laps. You can hear them pin it all the way down the long front stretch, sounds glorious with the thumpers mixed with strokers.
This is not my video, but someone else that took a much better one of the same event.
Between this and the Last Man Standing, RedBull can do no wrong.
Your winner ladies and gentlemen, Frenchman Timotei Potisek, in all his blurry glory. He took home 15,000 Euros, which is not too shabby for an afternoon's work.
You can see the start here in the back. It was a heap more impressive in person.
This guy endoed just before this. It took him about five minutes to get his bike back up and going. He looked pretty injured, but kept on going. You have to respect that kind of determination.
The bikes were about this dense the entire 60 minute qualifier.
26 November 2007
I see London...
but I do not see France.
I went to jolly old England a couple of weeks back to see Cindy and Mel. It seems like I'm always a couple of weeks behind on this. Good times were had by all.
I arrived at London Heathrow with no problems at all, until I tried to get through customs. Those limey bastards seemed to be under the impression that I wanted to illegally immigrate there, because they asked me a good 15 minutes worth of questions, including how I was funding my trip, where I was staying and the phone number of that person (Cindy) and whether she was a girlfriend or an acquaintance. I had the intense desire to tell that broad that we rebelled against her monarch already and I had no desire to live under its tyranny anymore. FEB's!
On that Saturday, we went to a Guy Falkes Day celebration, which was strange considering Guy Faulkes tried to blow up Parliment. Crazy Englishmen. It would be like the US having a Whiskey Rebellion Day every year. But there was a big bonfire and fire works, and I do love me some fire and explosions.
Other than that, there's not a lot of stories to be told, but general good times seeing sights in the day and drunken shenanigans at night.
And on that note, I shall leave with some photos, naturally.
Me at Buckingham Palace. I resisted the urge to shout obscenities and urinate on the Monarch's working palace.
Crazy-hatted Englishmen just before the Changing of the Guard
The Englishmen try so big, but they are a poor substitute for the average SWAC marching band
The Changing of the Guard was a surprisingly elaborate process. It lasted about 40 minutes.
Some Cannuck monument. Notice all the maple leaves
Unfortunately this is real. Fortunately it is just a steak house, and not an actual embassy, much to the average Texan's chagrin, I'm sure.
I had to post this for my buddy Juano. The FEB's couldn't give Ecuador their own building? Madness
St. Paul's Cathedral. As Moms points out, it is protestant so that Henry VIII could get him another woman.
According to Pat, this is me being disrespectful to St. Paul's cross.
This son of a bitch giant leaf attacked me as I was walking down the street. Damn Englishleaves.
The Rosetta Stone is really impressive in person. I don't have anything witty to add, it was just damned impressive.
The British Museum, from whence the Rosetta Stone sits.
Giant God-Damned door in said Museum. Melissa for scale.
That is a glorious Kiwi statute.
Needless to say, I giggled like a schoolgirl every time the proper British lady came over the loudspeaker to announce that our train was going to Cockfosters.
As it turns out, the Tower of London isn't one actual tower, but a series of towers and buildings. The Monarchy lived there at one point. Who knew.
Tower Bridge
Guy Faulkes tried to blow this place up, so naturally, they celebrate it by throwing a big ass party and a fire.
for some reason they let this Motley crew of Americans into the festivities
A few more photos can be found here http://www.pbase.com/msimon8/london
That is all for the time being.
More to come.
I went to jolly old England a couple of weeks back to see Cindy and Mel. It seems like I'm always a couple of weeks behind on this. Good times were had by all.
I arrived at London Heathrow with no problems at all, until I tried to get through customs. Those limey bastards seemed to be under the impression that I wanted to illegally immigrate there, because they asked me a good 15 minutes worth of questions, including how I was funding my trip, where I was staying and the phone number of that person (Cindy) and whether she was a girlfriend or an acquaintance. I had the intense desire to tell that broad that we rebelled against her monarch already and I had no desire to live under its tyranny anymore. FEB's!
On that Saturday, we went to a Guy Falkes Day celebration, which was strange considering Guy Faulkes tried to blow up Parliment. Crazy Englishmen. It would be like the US having a Whiskey Rebellion Day every year. But there was a big bonfire and fire works, and I do love me some fire and explosions.
Other than that, there's not a lot of stories to be told, but general good times seeing sights in the day and drunken shenanigans at night.
And on that note, I shall leave with some photos, naturally.
Me at Buckingham Palace. I resisted the urge to shout obscenities and urinate on the Monarch's working palace.
Crazy-hatted Englishmen just before the Changing of the Guard
The Englishmen try so big, but they are a poor substitute for the average SWAC marching band
The Changing of the Guard was a surprisingly elaborate process. It lasted about 40 minutes.
Some Cannuck monument. Notice all the maple leaves
Unfortunately this is real. Fortunately it is just a steak house, and not an actual embassy, much to the average Texan's chagrin, I'm sure.
I had to post this for my buddy Juano. The FEB's couldn't give Ecuador their own building? Madness
St. Paul's Cathedral. As Moms points out, it is protestant so that Henry VIII could get him another woman.
According to Pat, this is me being disrespectful to St. Paul's cross.
This son of a bitch giant leaf attacked me as I was walking down the street. Damn Englishleaves.
The Rosetta Stone is really impressive in person. I don't have anything witty to add, it was just damned impressive.
The British Museum, from whence the Rosetta Stone sits.
Giant God-Damned door in said Museum. Melissa for scale.
That is a glorious Kiwi statute.
Needless to say, I giggled like a schoolgirl every time the proper British lady came over the loudspeaker to announce that our train was going to Cockfosters.
As it turns out, the Tower of London isn't one actual tower, but a series of towers and buildings. The Monarchy lived there at one point. Who knew.
Tower Bridge
Guy Faulkes tried to blow this place up, so naturally, they celebrate it by throwing a big ass party and a fire.
for some reason they let this Motley crew of Americans into the festivities
A few more photos can be found here http://www.pbase.com/msimon8/london
That is all for the time being.
More to come.
07 November 2007
When in Rome...
Sorry for the lack of updates, but these have been crazy times.
I went to the Dago motherland a couple of weeks back and had a great time. That is a chaotic place, just my style. I discovered very quickly that there is no such thing as traffic laws in Rome, only traffic suggestions. You go as fast as you can and put your car where ever you can fit it on the road. It was quite the adventurous taxi ride from the airport to the hostel.
On the first day there, I get in in the evening, so the day is pretty much gone at that point. I decided to wander around Rome for the evening near where I was staying. As I was walking around, I noticed that there wasn't much activity on the streets, which seemed odd for a Saturday evening. Then I noticed that every bar I walked by was filled with people completely focused on the televisions. Everyone in the bar, including on duty police were entirely involved in watching A.S. Roma play soccer. These people love them some soccer.
Later on, I tried to go back to the Hostel to get a drink and was hopelessly lost for a couple of hours before I finally stumbled upon it. Being lost in a place where no signs are in English, it was just like my first days in Holland, good times.
The next day, I walked all over the city, which is much larger than the, so called, map implied. I finally got to the ancient part of the city and the first thing I see is the Colosseum, which is much larger and more grand than I was expecting. I was expecting something the size of an arena, but I found something more the scale of Tiger Stadium and the like. Very impressive. From there I wandered about the Forum and the Circus Maximus. It's really humbling to walk amongst man made structures that are well over 2000 years old.
From there, I walked up to the Teatro Marcello and the old Jewish Ghetto, which are in the same spot, and then to the Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II, which is the giant white structure with the winged horses. It is an Italian Government building that also housed the National museum, which was not very impressive, considering the history surrounding that country.
I kept walking about, seeing some more ancient Roman forums, and then the Trevi fountain, which I later learned was just a fountain that some rich guy stuck on the front of his house to show off in the 18th century.
At the end of the day, I went back to the Hostel to relax for a bit, and went out and got liquored up with some fellow travelers.
The rest of my stay consisted of more of the same. Seeing beautiful and historic sights, I could spend days in the Vatican museum, and then going and getting liquored up in the evening. Good times.
On that note, I took a metric shitload of photos whilst in Rome so instead of posting them all here, I will add a link to where they are at and you can paruse them for yourselves. You are all grown ass people, I think you can handle it.
said link: http://www.pbase.com/msimon8/rome
And on that note, I will leave you with a few photos that need elaboration.
When I get to Da Vinci airport, these are my first sights, the Italians aren't very good at keeping things running, as this was a theme throughout the weekend.
These were all over town, I think the water was fresh and potable, but I wasn't going to test it. I later saw a hobo washing some clothes at one, at least he was keeping clean.
The Swiss are apparently good enough to guard the Vatican, but their knives aren't allowed, outrageous.
This political party is not a fan of Osama Bin Laden, such a bold stance.
It actually translates to "Don't take the lord's name in vain" "no to fundamentalism"
hearkening back to the ancient times, SPQR was all over the public works in this town.
And finally, some good old slandering of George W. Bush, somehow I doubt there is any graffiti in the US referring to Romano Prodi in a derogatory fashion.
I'm not sure exactly what it translates to, but its some sort of Italian swear.
That is all for now, stay tuned for the exciting story of the disaster that was my trip back to Holland, and the London weekend.
More to come (soon)
I went to the Dago motherland a couple of weeks back and had a great time. That is a chaotic place, just my style. I discovered very quickly that there is no such thing as traffic laws in Rome, only traffic suggestions. You go as fast as you can and put your car where ever you can fit it on the road. It was quite the adventurous taxi ride from the airport to the hostel.
On the first day there, I get in in the evening, so the day is pretty much gone at that point. I decided to wander around Rome for the evening near where I was staying. As I was walking around, I noticed that there wasn't much activity on the streets, which seemed odd for a Saturday evening. Then I noticed that every bar I walked by was filled with people completely focused on the televisions. Everyone in the bar, including on duty police were entirely involved in watching A.S. Roma play soccer. These people love them some soccer.
Later on, I tried to go back to the Hostel to get a drink and was hopelessly lost for a couple of hours before I finally stumbled upon it. Being lost in a place where no signs are in English, it was just like my first days in Holland, good times.
The next day, I walked all over the city, which is much larger than the, so called, map implied. I finally got to the ancient part of the city and the first thing I see is the Colosseum, which is much larger and more grand than I was expecting. I was expecting something the size of an arena, but I found something more the scale of Tiger Stadium and the like. Very impressive. From there I wandered about the Forum and the Circus Maximus. It's really humbling to walk amongst man made structures that are well over 2000 years old.
From there, I walked up to the Teatro Marcello and the old Jewish Ghetto, which are in the same spot, and then to the Monumento a Vittorio Emanuele II, which is the giant white structure with the winged horses. It is an Italian Government building that also housed the National museum, which was not very impressive, considering the history surrounding that country.
I kept walking about, seeing some more ancient Roman forums, and then the Trevi fountain, which I later learned was just a fountain that some rich guy stuck on the front of his house to show off in the 18th century.
At the end of the day, I went back to the Hostel to relax for a bit, and went out and got liquored up with some fellow travelers.
The rest of my stay consisted of more of the same. Seeing beautiful and historic sights, I could spend days in the Vatican museum, and then going and getting liquored up in the evening. Good times.
On that note, I took a metric shitload of photos whilst in Rome so instead of posting them all here, I will add a link to where they are at and you can paruse them for yourselves. You are all grown ass people, I think you can handle it.
said link: http://www.pbase.com/msimon8/rome
And on that note, I will leave you with a few photos that need elaboration.
When I get to Da Vinci airport, these are my first sights, the Italians aren't very good at keeping things running, as this was a theme throughout the weekend.
These were all over town, I think the water was fresh and potable, but I wasn't going to test it. I later saw a hobo washing some clothes at one, at least he was keeping clean.
The Swiss are apparently good enough to guard the Vatican, but their knives aren't allowed, outrageous.
This political party is not a fan of Osama Bin Laden, such a bold stance.
It actually translates to "Don't take the lord's name in vain" "no to fundamentalism"
hearkening back to the ancient times, SPQR was all over the public works in this town.
And finally, some good old slandering of George W. Bush, somehow I doubt there is any graffiti in the US referring to Romano Prodi in a derogatory fashion.
I'm not sure exactly what it translates to, but its some sort of Italian swear.
That is all for now, stay tuned for the exciting story of the disaster that was my trip back to Holland, and the London weekend.
More to come (soon)
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