11th: Today was a glorius day weather-wise, and we decided to make the most of it by going to a waterpark...
So after our cheap McDonalds breakfast, and 93.7 Bob FM was turned on; we set off. A good hour or so later we had arrived, and sat down on some sunbeds by the wave pool, where my mum would stay for the entirety of the day, without an inch of movement; choosing just to fry in the desert-esque heat, while my dad and I go on all the slides... And that we did... Nearly...
We went on a few tame ones at first, but then came across these two different slides, both in the same place. One was a near to vertical drop, straight slide, whilst the other WAS a directly vertical drop, which you had to step onto, before a trapdoor would open, and you fall straight down - ABSOLUTELY MENTAL!... As it was about midday at this point, and so getting busy; and being the kind, thoughtful, generous, charming, beautiful young man that I am; I let my dad decide which one to go on (as it was unlikely we were gonna be able to queue up for both, considering the crazily long lines for both...). Without a linger of thought, and potentially fearing his life; he chose the moderately mental one, which I have to say, being albeit slightly relieved at the time; I'm a bit gutted right about now...
So we waited in line for about 40 minutes, for this 10 second ride (logical, huh?...), where we just went down the chute at about 50mph, and came out the other end a little bit giddy; all the while we watched others going on this even more mental ride - some little kid of about 8 marched up to the Star-Trek-like pods which you had to stand in like a guerrilla; standing about half an inch above the minimum height line, trembling like Anne Robinson in a house of mirrors; squeaking like a mouse "ready now", before before shot down the endless pit of doom... I tell you now... Despite the high-pitched voice; that kid has some SERIOUS balls... Or at least he did... They've since been ripped off, alongside his face, from the G-force of dropping vertically 500feet... Poor kid...
Well we went on that and a few other stuff, went in the wave pool, had a churro (which is at LONG LAST may I add - in my opinion, no trip to the states is complete, until you've eaten a churro, and I've nagged my dad since the moment we landed in NYC, to get me one, and this was the first open opportunity... I was very pleased indeed...), and then left at about 3, because we'd all agreed that we were sick of the sun... What I HADN'T agreed on however, was what my parents had in store for me next - clothes shopping...
Now I'm the worst in the world when it comes to shopping - I ABSOLUTELY hate it, and so never end up buying anything... But considering our hotel is just 10 minutes away from this huge premium label shopping plaza place, and how I've been interminably nagged on how I "need some new clothes for Sixth form", I had very little say in the matter... So off we went; going through all these different shops (about 6 or 7 different ones; all of which are just about the same to me, except for Lacoste... I refuse to look even more of a chav than I already have to, thanks... Plus they're French...), and ended up leaving with just one Ralph Lauren polo... And what's more?... To me, that was a successful trip... I actually bought something, before physically dying of boredom... Well done me...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Thursday 14 July 2011
Fredd Shells Shea Shells On The Shea Shore... Oh For Fu...
10th: Today was the day that we were going to make the hour long drive down to Virginia Beach, and spend the afternoon taking in the sun...
So after breakfast, we set off on our ventures; sitting in the car with the radio on as our only form of entertainment... Our adopted station is 93.7 Bob FM (creative name, huh?...), because the moment we got the car (when we left Washington), we did what any normal person does with the radio in a new car - go through EVERY predefined channel over and over and over again, until something listenable comes on, marking that station as the car's default channel, no matter HOW bad EVERY other song they play for the rest of eternity is... Bob FM was exactly this channel for us... And their slogan of "Turn your knob... To Bob..." is a thing that even the great Dr Seuss himself, would be proud to call his own...
Now I'm fine with Bob, but my dad?... Not so much... Bob tends to play mostly 80s pop, or if not; Bono, or that annoying husky voiced loser who sings on that DFS advert, where his music video is essentially "You know what'd be good?... Let's make a video in a HUGE swimming pool - I mean like the BIGGEST pool you could possibly imagine; we'll chuck Shamu outta Seaworld and freaking use his crib or summat... Well anyway; we go to this pool, and we bring over all of Hugh Hefner's jailbait; chuck them all in there; booze 'em up, and then use it as a distraction to our crappy, anti-lyrical sludge troff of a song... Then use it on as many TV ads as possible... Genius!..." Now despite him quite liking U2, my dad for whatever reason hates 80s music; so pretty much all I ever hear in the car is "oh come on, Bob!", or "Bob, that's awful!", whilst I tremble in enraged horror, at the paternal blasphemy which I am forced to witness...
So the usual journey took place (80s song, moan, 80s song, moan, loser bloke, moan, Bono, satisfied silence), all the way up to VA beach; where we parked up for the princely sum of $10 for 3 hours (any longer, and they threatened to tow us, although it's not like they're gonna be able to sell this little pecker of an overly-AVIS-sticker-branded-spunkmobile...), walked onto the beach, and sat down on the sand...
At first it was quite pleasant; laying down, enjoying that rarest of things to a native Englishman - sun. Looking around, I could see that the local sport was Volleyball; considering there were about 5 billion nets up - it looked like the beach at Normandy... if only the Nazis were lead by a camp sports enthusiast, rather than a fascist nutcase... The problems came at about 1o'clock, when the sun was at it's spiteful peak (about 102F on this particular day), and the surfer dudes decided to invade our area of the beach, despite there being a surfer-exclusive area down the other end... So we sat, essentially slow-cooking ourselves (as by this time, my feet and shoulders were the colour of a ripe raspberry...), with our only amount of solace being the viewing of some big-headed little loser falling on his face every ten minutes or so... I suppose that's what pulled me through it...
We left at about 4, as we'd realised that our sunburn was at the point of impending cancer; and made our way home... Now I've gotta say that I was a little disappointed, as while we glided down Atlantic Avenue, I was on the look out for a big guy in a navy outfit (and although that may seem like the gayest thing I've ever said; it's really not meant to be - a friend of mine; Fredd; who has just come back from a stint of working in the US Navy, has a house out there. Now despite not living there at the moment, I thought he might fly back to Virginia Beach for a special appearance, but nope - nutin... Friggin lazy Murricans...), but could find only premium rate ghost rides among the streets... Still... We drove about there for a while, so the chances I saw his house are pretty high... I am therefore the world's greatest stalker - sorry Morgan... My cross-Atlantic manhunt cannot be outdone...
So in an attempt to make up for my disappointment, I decided to stuff my face with Wendy's (again; let me point out here that filacio was at no point a part of my holiday... Wendy's is a food chain... Not a cheap, local prostitute... I mean what the hell kinda prossy'd be called Wendy?!? By LAW it has to be summat outrageously slutty, like Krystal, or Onyx, or some other form of second-rate gemstone...) - a half pound baconator to be precise (and you KNOW something's gonna be good when it's got "ator" at the end...); which was quintessentially less healthy than eating a solid block of pure lard... So considering that I have football training the Saturday I get back; probably not my wisest decision... But my GOD... it was beautiful... Like a genuine edible orgasm... Wonderful...
The lesson I learned from it all?... That whenever you're upset by something in life, it's always comforting to increase your chance of stroke and heart disease by 4.2%, in one big ol' heap of pig in a bun... Now if THAT'S not what America is all about, I don't wanna know what is...
Thanks,
Kempo.
So after breakfast, we set off on our ventures; sitting in the car with the radio on as our only form of entertainment... Our adopted station is 93.7 Bob FM (creative name, huh?...), because the moment we got the car (when we left Washington), we did what any normal person does with the radio in a new car - go through EVERY predefined channel over and over and over again, until something listenable comes on, marking that station as the car's default channel, no matter HOW bad EVERY other song they play for the rest of eternity is... Bob FM was exactly this channel for us... And their slogan of "Turn your knob... To Bob..." is a thing that even the great Dr Seuss himself, would be proud to call his own...
Now I'm fine with Bob, but my dad?... Not so much... Bob tends to play mostly 80s pop, or if not; Bono, or that annoying husky voiced loser who sings on that DFS advert, where his music video is essentially "You know what'd be good?... Let's make a video in a HUGE swimming pool - I mean like the BIGGEST pool you could possibly imagine; we'll chuck Shamu outta Seaworld and freaking use his crib or summat... Well anyway; we go to this pool, and we bring over all of Hugh Hefner's jailbait; chuck them all in there; booze 'em up, and then use it as a distraction to our crappy, anti-lyrical sludge troff of a song... Then use it on as many TV ads as possible... Genius!..." Now despite him quite liking U2, my dad for whatever reason hates 80s music; so pretty much all I ever hear in the car is "oh come on, Bob!", or "Bob, that's awful!", whilst I tremble in enraged horror, at the paternal blasphemy which I am forced to witness...
So the usual journey took place (80s song, moan, 80s song, moan, loser bloke, moan, Bono, satisfied silence), all the way up to VA beach; where we parked up for the princely sum of $10 for 3 hours (any longer, and they threatened to tow us, although it's not like they're gonna be able to sell this little pecker of an overly-AVIS-sticker-branded-spunkmobile...), walked onto the beach, and sat down on the sand...
At first it was quite pleasant; laying down, enjoying that rarest of things to a native Englishman - sun. Looking around, I could see that the local sport was Volleyball; considering there were about 5 billion nets up - it looked like the beach at Normandy... if only the Nazis were lead by a camp sports enthusiast, rather than a fascist nutcase... The problems came at about 1o'clock, when the sun was at it's spiteful peak (about 102F on this particular day), and the surfer dudes decided to invade our area of the beach, despite there being a surfer-exclusive area down the other end... So we sat, essentially slow-cooking ourselves (as by this time, my feet and shoulders were the colour of a ripe raspberry...), with our only amount of solace being the viewing of some big-headed little loser falling on his face every ten minutes or so... I suppose that's what pulled me through it...
We left at about 4, as we'd realised that our sunburn was at the point of impending cancer; and made our way home... Now I've gotta say that I was a little disappointed, as while we glided down Atlantic Avenue, I was on the look out for a big guy in a navy outfit (and although that may seem like the gayest thing I've ever said; it's really not meant to be - a friend of mine; Fredd; who has just come back from a stint of working in the US Navy, has a house out there. Now despite not living there at the moment, I thought he might fly back to Virginia Beach for a special appearance, but nope - nutin... Friggin lazy Murricans...), but could find only premium rate ghost rides among the streets... Still... We drove about there for a while, so the chances I saw his house are pretty high... I am therefore the world's greatest stalker - sorry Morgan... My cross-Atlantic manhunt cannot be outdone...
So in an attempt to make up for my disappointment, I decided to stuff my face with Wendy's (again; let me point out here that filacio was at no point a part of my holiday... Wendy's is a food chain... Not a cheap, local prostitute... I mean what the hell kinda prossy'd be called Wendy?!? By LAW it has to be summat outrageously slutty, like Krystal, or Onyx, or some other form of second-rate gemstone...) - a half pound baconator to be precise (and you KNOW something's gonna be good when it's got "ator" at the end...); which was quintessentially less healthy than eating a solid block of pure lard... So considering that I have football training the Saturday I get back; probably not my wisest decision... But my GOD... it was beautiful... Like a genuine edible orgasm... Wonderful...
The lesson I learned from it all?... That whenever you're upset by something in life, it's always comforting to increase your chance of stroke and heart disease by 4.2%, in one big ol' heap of pig in a bun... Now if THAT'S not what America is all about, I don't wanna know what is...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Sunday 10 July 2011
Taking Relaxation To A Whole New Level...
Well... By now, you're one of only 3 people who actively read this crap, and hasn't yet realised how terrible it really is, or if you have; are still expecting it to get good at some point. Unfortunately, that's unlikely... And firmly in the knowledge of that; I'm gonna keep yesterday's post relatively short...
So what did we do yesterday?... Not a lot really... (like I say; here it's just about relaxing really)... We toured another one of these stupid old towns; only this one was even worse than the one we went to the day before, because there weren't even any existing buildings - they've all fallen apart, and so all's left is some forest with a car-trail around the outside, on a river-bed... Brilliant... We went around the track, and saw nothing but about ten billion tiny crabs crawling about... Much like going on a night tour of South London...
So we left there, and went down to some tiny beach... Nothing much about there; just slutty old women, and some paedophiles in speedos... So the highlight of that place was the Ben & Jerry's (which, for the record; WASN'T given to me by one of the paedophiles... I mean, I'm a sexy mudafudgepacker, but I'm DEFINATELY not worth the price of that stuff... Freaking expensive...)... Had Cherry with Strawberry Shortcake... Verrrrrrnice...
So we hit absolute boredom (Exactly -273.15 fulfilled expectations), and just went back to the hotel to just chill poolside... There, I spent all day on twitter and getting a colour... And by "a colour"; I mean crimson... Ahh the glories of shoulder sunburn...
So yeah... That was it - the entire day... Nothing happened... So NOW will you stopped reading this damned blog?!? No?... Even THAT wasn't bad enough to warrant a total abandonment???... Well in that case I have absolutely no idea what to do... Truth is, I have near to no enthusiasm doing this now, so they're getting significantly worse by the day... Luckily there are only about another 4 or 5 to go... Thank the lord....
Thanks,
Kempo.
So what did we do yesterday?... Not a lot really... (like I say; here it's just about relaxing really)... We toured another one of these stupid old towns; only this one was even worse than the one we went to the day before, because there weren't even any existing buildings - they've all fallen apart, and so all's left is some forest with a car-trail around the outside, on a river-bed... Brilliant... We went around the track, and saw nothing but about ten billion tiny crabs crawling about... Much like going on a night tour of South London...
So we left there, and went down to some tiny beach... Nothing much about there; just slutty old women, and some paedophiles in speedos... So the highlight of that place was the Ben & Jerry's (which, for the record; WASN'T given to me by one of the paedophiles... I mean, I'm a sexy mudafudgepacker, but I'm DEFINATELY not worth the price of that stuff... Freaking expensive...)... Had Cherry with Strawberry Shortcake... Verrrrrrnice...
So we hit absolute boredom (Exactly -273.15 fulfilled expectations), and just went back to the hotel to just chill poolside... There, I spent all day on twitter and getting a colour... And by "a colour"; I mean crimson... Ahh the glories of shoulder sunburn...
So yeah... That was it - the entire day... Nothing happened... So NOW will you stopped reading this damned blog?!? No?... Even THAT wasn't bad enough to warrant a total abandonment???... Well in that case I have absolutely no idea what to do... Truth is, I have near to no enthusiasm doing this now, so they're getting significantly worse by the day... Luckily there are only about another 4 or 5 to go... Thank the lord....
Thanks,
Kempo.
Saturday 9 July 2011
I'm A Man Of The Land, I'm Into Discipline; Got A Bible In My Hand, And A Beard On My Chin. If I Finish All Of My Chores, And You Finish Thine, Then Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1699...
Well yesterday was fun.... (again with the difficulty of telling sarcasm through writing...) It started with breakfast in a local pancake shop, which was apparently the hotspot for the Virginian police force, as 3 mustangs kitted out in blues pulled up, with no less than 8 officers coming out of them (so much for the stereotype... Apparently pancakes and Belgian waffles are much preferred to doughnuts for American policemen)...
It was as we were leaving the scraps of my strawberry (well at least they claimed that they were strawberries... In fact they were just these horridly bitter, soggy, flat, brown things... They were like the strawberry's embarrassing uncle, that nobody speaks of to sane society, in case people think they're all a bunch of mental-cases...) pancakes, my dad said, AND I QUOTE; "What d'you wanna do?... It's not like there's not a lot to do around here..." I could tell from that, that something horrendous was in store, but NOBODY deserved this... We drove for about 15 minutes, and pulled up in a car park. Without even thinking about asking where we were, I follow my parents in through a visitor centre, across a bridge, and along some path into a desolate town. It took until I saw 3 seemingly Amish locals, for me to begin questioning what the hell was going on here... We had apparently gone to a refurbished 17th century town called Williamsburg, where people are hired to dress up in costumes, and act as if they lived during the American Revolution, which we would be walking around; not even allowed in the actual buildings themselves (as that would cost $75 per person for some erratically unknown reason), because this would of course be the best thing to do considering "it's not like there's not a lot to do around here..."... Needless to say; it WASN'T the best thing I've ever done in my life... Or that morning even...
Since we were just walking around some place which was essentially like a 17th century Basildon, or a late 20th century Swansea(Mehehehe... It's funny, because I'm saying that Welsh people are backward....); it was obviously just about the most boring and pointless thing in the world; like a vibrator with an "oh alright, but don't wake me up" setting... To entertain myself, I did the only thing a cynical, bored teen would do in my situation... Try to find as many flaws in their poor attempt of a 17th century portal as I possibly could...
Now, ignoring the many CCTV security cameras (that were poorly hidden by placing them in trees, and painting them in a completely different shade of brown), and the fact that there was a constant flurry of automobiling traffic on the road next to us (concealed in it's utmost by a 2" tall hedge); there were still many issues I found... The main problem was the store. (They basically had this little shop, which supposedly sells things available in 17th century America, so we thought we'd have a little look inside) Now, ignoring the fact that pewter at the time had a huge lead content, so couldn't ever have been used for a teapot, unless you were intentionally trying to poison yourself (but not even a 17th century Basildonian(or a 20th century Welshman) is that stupid...(ooh there I go again... What am I like...?))... And as well as that, the outrageous price of $270 being nowhere near the sort of figure it would have been at the time; I just love how the shopkeeper was willing to accept a few $50s from some old dear, for it; thus ditching the entire idea of a 17th century American town for a little bit of money, as of course - Ulysses Grant wasn't about until the 1800s... If they REALLY wanted it to be legitimate, they would've just accepted an old drinks can (aluminium was considered to be the rarest and most expensive metal at the time.... Stupid Americans...), but no... All about the futuristic green paper...
Now there were plenty of things like this: the automatic flushing toilet, rather than just a wooden pit (I mean COME ON!!! The one time where you're morally OBLIGED to give me typhoid, and you don't even follow that through...), the black man who has been hired as a typical home-owner, as apposed to a slave-worker (because that wouldn't be politically correct...), the gardener who was driving around on his huge lawnmowermobile trimming the grass... The list goes on forever... But I complained that I was bored after about an hour (although truth be told, I was bored from the outset - who wouldn't be...?), and we left back for the hotel...
So we sat around for an hour or two, then went out bowling.... Like you do.... My dad claimed that it was a treat especially for me, but when I found out that there was an offer - 99cent games all day for that day only; I started to understand why we'd been on this one alley for the past 17 hours... Still... Had fun... I was terrible, so don't get me wrong there (my best score was the godly amount of 103), and there were some bowling nerds next to us who were scoring WAY into the 200s - they were just about as professional as you can imagine; they had the personalised ball, the personalised shoes, hell; if only they had a custom team shirt with a crap, and overly thought-over team name, like "Has-Pins" or "Super Bowls", and one of those machines bald people use to make their head shiny; you'd think they were actual pros. I mean they were spinning it here, there, and every freaking where... Spare, strike, strike, 7..... Spare... All the while, I got: gutter, gutter, gutter, 4... Gutter... Made me feel worse than a paralytic in a lap dancing club... Still... Considering Obama's PB score is 38; that makes me nearly 3 times better than the President.... I'll take that....
Thanks,
Kempo.
It was as we were leaving the scraps of my strawberry (well at least they claimed that they were strawberries... In fact they were just these horridly bitter, soggy, flat, brown things... They were like the strawberry's embarrassing uncle, that nobody speaks of to sane society, in case people think they're all a bunch of mental-cases...) pancakes, my dad said, AND I QUOTE; "What d'you wanna do?... It's not like there's not a lot to do around here..." I could tell from that, that something horrendous was in store, but NOBODY deserved this... We drove for about 15 minutes, and pulled up in a car park. Without even thinking about asking where we were, I follow my parents in through a visitor centre, across a bridge, and along some path into a desolate town. It took until I saw 3 seemingly Amish locals, for me to begin questioning what the hell was going on here... We had apparently gone to a refurbished 17th century town called Williamsburg, where people are hired to dress up in costumes, and act as if they lived during the American Revolution, which we would be walking around; not even allowed in the actual buildings themselves (as that would cost $75 per person for some erratically unknown reason), because this would of course be the best thing to do considering "it's not like there's not a lot to do around here..."... Needless to say; it WASN'T the best thing I've ever done in my life... Or that morning even...
Since we were just walking around some place which was essentially like a 17th century Basildon, or a late 20th century Swansea(Mehehehe... It's funny, because I'm saying that Welsh people are backward....); it was obviously just about the most boring and pointless thing in the world; like a vibrator with an "oh alright, but don't wake me up" setting... To entertain myself, I did the only thing a cynical, bored teen would do in my situation... Try to find as many flaws in their poor attempt of a 17th century portal as I possibly could...
Now, ignoring the many CCTV security cameras (that were poorly hidden by placing them in trees, and painting them in a completely different shade of brown), and the fact that there was a constant flurry of automobiling traffic on the road next to us (concealed in it's utmost by a 2" tall hedge); there were still many issues I found... The main problem was the store. (They basically had this little shop, which supposedly sells things available in 17th century America, so we thought we'd have a little look inside) Now, ignoring the fact that pewter at the time had a huge lead content, so couldn't ever have been used for a teapot, unless you were intentionally trying to poison yourself (but not even a 17th century Basildonian(or a 20th century Welshman) is that stupid...(ooh there I go again... What am I like...?))... And as well as that, the outrageous price of $270 being nowhere near the sort of figure it would have been at the time; I just love how the shopkeeper was willing to accept a few $50s from some old dear, for it; thus ditching the entire idea of a 17th century American town for a little bit of money, as of course - Ulysses Grant wasn't about until the 1800s... If they REALLY wanted it to be legitimate, they would've just accepted an old drinks can (aluminium was considered to be the rarest and most expensive metal at the time.... Stupid Americans...), but no... All about the futuristic green paper...
Now there were plenty of things like this: the automatic flushing toilet, rather than just a wooden pit (I mean COME ON!!! The one time where you're morally OBLIGED to give me typhoid, and you don't even follow that through...), the black man who has been hired as a typical home-owner, as apposed to a slave-worker (because that wouldn't be politically correct...), the gardener who was driving around on his huge lawnmowermobile trimming the grass... The list goes on forever... But I complained that I was bored after about an hour (although truth be told, I was bored from the outset - who wouldn't be...?), and we left back for the hotel...
So we sat around for an hour or two, then went out bowling.... Like you do.... My dad claimed that it was a treat especially for me, but when I found out that there was an offer - 99cent games all day for that day only; I started to understand why we'd been on this one alley for the past 17 hours... Still... Had fun... I was terrible, so don't get me wrong there (my best score was the godly amount of 103), and there were some bowling nerds next to us who were scoring WAY into the 200s - they were just about as professional as you can imagine; they had the personalised ball, the personalised shoes, hell; if only they had a custom team shirt with a crap, and overly thought-over team name, like "Has-Pins" or "Super Bowls", and one of those machines bald people use to make their head shiny; you'd think they were actual pros. I mean they were spinning it here, there, and every freaking where... Spare, strike, strike, 7..... Spare... All the while, I got: gutter, gutter, gutter, 4... Gutter... Made me feel worse than a paralytic in a lap dancing club... Still... Considering Obama's PB score is 38; that makes me nearly 3 times better than the President.... I'll take that....
Thanks,
Kempo.
Thursday 7 July 2011
On The Road Again...
July 7th: Today was another travel day, where we drove south for three hours; but now here I am - The beautiful state of Virginia.
I mean, after spending all this time so far in the dull greyness of American cities, I had essentially forgotten about the existence of trees, and wildlife in general; so this is a nice change... The weather has been wonderful - just constant hot, cloudless sunshine; and what's more?... The resort has it's own freaking golf course... I mean COME ON!!! Now I don't play golf, nor do I intend to learn how to over the coming week; but just knowing that the possibility is open to me makes me feel pretty awesome...
So yeah; the next 5 days are gonna be pretty lazy if I'm honest... Laying in the sun... Floating in the pool... Playing a bit of tennis... All the sort of stuff you do in a normal summer holiday when all you wanna do is relax, yknow?... Much more like my kinda holiday...
The only problem with the place, was that our room was sat next to one, full of these annoying little children (who I swear have ADD), and their crazily aggressive dad. So for perhaps 3 or 4 hours, we were just in our room watching TV, whilst through the wall, all we hear is a symphony of high pitched screaming, before a low frequency, foul-mouthed tirade from their dad; which in turn only lead to yet more crying and screaming, and in turn more shouting, in a spiralling cycle of trumping insanity... Now during all of this, I had my iPod on, so barely noticed it; but my dad on the other hand, was flipping more than a Blue Peter pancake - he was just going CRAZY... It took until the point when he was physically sharpening his toothbrush into a dagger, to go on a mental murdering massacre; for my mum to finally suggest that he had probably ought to mention the problem to the front desk... That he did, and we are now in a different room on the other side of the hotel... So now it's quiet enough to sleep, and my dad won't be put on the electric chair... A win win situation if ever I've seen one...
Thanks,
Kempo.
I mean, after spending all this time so far in the dull greyness of American cities, I had essentially forgotten about the existence of trees, and wildlife in general; so this is a nice change... The weather has been wonderful - just constant hot, cloudless sunshine; and what's more?... The resort has it's own freaking golf course... I mean COME ON!!! Now I don't play golf, nor do I intend to learn how to over the coming week; but just knowing that the possibility is open to me makes me feel pretty awesome...
So yeah; the next 5 days are gonna be pretty lazy if I'm honest... Laying in the sun... Floating in the pool... Playing a bit of tennis... All the sort of stuff you do in a normal summer holiday when all you wanna do is relax, yknow?... Much more like my kinda holiday...
The only problem with the place, was that our room was sat next to one, full of these annoying little children (who I swear have ADD), and their crazily aggressive dad. So for perhaps 3 or 4 hours, we were just in our room watching TV, whilst through the wall, all we hear is a symphony of high pitched screaming, before a low frequency, foul-mouthed tirade from their dad; which in turn only lead to yet more crying and screaming, and in turn more shouting, in a spiralling cycle of trumping insanity... Now during all of this, I had my iPod on, so barely noticed it; but my dad on the other hand, was flipping more than a Blue Peter pancake - he was just going CRAZY... It took until the point when he was physically sharpening his toothbrush into a dagger, to go on a mental murdering massacre; for my mum to finally suggest that he had probably ought to mention the problem to the front desk... That he did, and we are now in a different room on the other side of the hotel... So now it's quiet enough to sleep, and my dad won't be put on the electric chair... A win win situation if ever I've seen one...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Taxi For Kempo... dananananananuh dananananananaananuhh danuhh daanuhh dananananananaah dananananuh danananuhhna danuhh danananuhh danuhh naanaadanananananuhh... Taxi Is Filmed In Front Of A Live Streetside Audience...
July 6th: Today has been my last full day here in DC, before the big travel day, further down south tomorrow; and we spent our time touring the memorials to just about every American in history... Not that I dislike doing that, or mean to disrespect the dead; just once you've spent 5 hours already in a state of semi-depressive sombreness, another few hours makes it seem almost normal...
STILL; our morning was taken up by a tour of all the DC monuments by a guy who I believe was called Tim Stewart... Now, I have to say that he genuinely was just about the best tourguide I've ever had... Seriously an awesome guy - a retired teacher, who really seems to enjoy his new job of touring the city, and also really knows what he's talking about... So he took us about all the different DC memorials, from WWII, to Vietnam, to Lincoln, to Korea; at all of which he was really interactive with the group - he even gave me a (albeit party-sized) packet of m&ms... And I approve of any man who needlessly gives me free chocolate... That being said; it's no large hole in his wallet, considering he got tipped just short of $500 for 4 hours work (you're not gonna be earning THAT sort of money from working the grills in McDonalds...)... He was VERY good though...
So we finished the tour, and the next thing my dad wanted to do was a tour of this huge US military graveyard, just across the river, in outer Virginia... Now, I'm wearing these shorts which have HUGE pockets - perfect for carrying and pickpocketing my valuables... (I've got a few pairs of shorts and jeans like this, with the huge pockets, so just for the record; if my hand's ever in one or even both of the pockets, I'm merely protecting my phone/iPod/camera etc. as apposed to not so secretly masterbating in public...) So anyway, to get across this river, instead of taking the 35minute walk, we decided to hire a cab (we're not lazy; just filthy rich...); so we sat down, drove a couple of minutes, got out, paid the driver, and started walking up to this graveyard. Now of course it's a bit impractical to have your hand in your pocket whilst sitting in the back of a cab, on the side which the pocket is; so I didn't... It's only once we got to the gate of the cemetery when I decided it might be a good idea to check my pocket... Phone, iPod, wallet... Ahh... (at this point, I say again; I'm NOT rubbing one off when my hand's in my pocket... That was like a disappointed sigh, rather than a joyous groan... And no; not in the slightest bit disappointed because of my poor performance... Because I didn't even start... (Hmm... This hole's getting bigger and bigger, yet I keep digging...) Y'know what? Just shut up... Yeah... That'll teach you...) ...No camera... Now obviously the taxi had left a good 3 or 4 minutes before this point, and he's hardly gonna check his back seat, see a camera, and go out of his way to start a mad headhunt throughout the District of Columbia & Virginia, just to return this old scratched up block of plastic to some British kid who sat in his car once... There's more chance of Al-Qaeda calling off the bombing stuff, and going into the agricultural business, with their new company; Osama's Farmers... It's not that it's an expensive camera (like I said, it's old, scratched up, and only like 5MP), but it's just the combination of my holiday memories being lost, plus knowing that somewhere out there, somebody's holding my stuff, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it... (by the way mysterious, unknown finder of my camera - do us all a favour and delete photo 17 for me without reporting it to the federal agencies... Oh and 19... And 24... And 27... And all of them between 45-63... Hell; just delete anything with an animal, car exhaust, or oddly shaped tree trunk in it... Thanks - much appreciated...) So for the rest of the day (and holiday for that matter), I'm having to cope with the loss of my camera... Now I'm not saying that it's nearly as significant as the loss of JFK, but it certainly made his eternal flame seem a lot tamer than it otherwise would've been...
R.I.P. Kempokam - '05-'11
Thanks,
Kempo.
STILL; our morning was taken up by a tour of all the DC monuments by a guy who I believe was called Tim Stewart... Now, I have to say that he genuinely was just about the best tourguide I've ever had... Seriously an awesome guy - a retired teacher, who really seems to enjoy his new job of touring the city, and also really knows what he's talking about... So he took us about all the different DC memorials, from WWII, to Vietnam, to Lincoln, to Korea; at all of which he was really interactive with the group - he even gave me a (albeit party-sized) packet of m&ms... And I approve of any man who needlessly gives me free chocolate... That being said; it's no large hole in his wallet, considering he got tipped just short of $500 for 4 hours work (you're not gonna be earning THAT sort of money from working the grills in McDonalds...)... He was VERY good though...
So we finished the tour, and the next thing my dad wanted to do was a tour of this huge US military graveyard, just across the river, in outer Virginia... Now, I'm wearing these shorts which have HUGE pockets - perfect for carrying and pickpocketing my valuables... (I've got a few pairs of shorts and jeans like this, with the huge pockets, so just for the record; if my hand's ever in one or even both of the pockets, I'm merely protecting my phone/iPod/camera etc. as apposed to not so secretly masterbating in public...) So anyway, to get across this river, instead of taking the 35minute walk, we decided to hire a cab (we're not lazy; just filthy rich...); so we sat down, drove a couple of minutes, got out, paid the driver, and started walking up to this graveyard. Now of course it's a bit impractical to have your hand in your pocket whilst sitting in the back of a cab, on the side which the pocket is; so I didn't... It's only once we got to the gate of the cemetery when I decided it might be a good idea to check my pocket... Phone, iPod, wallet... Ahh... (at this point, I say again; I'm NOT rubbing one off when my hand's in my pocket... That was like a disappointed sigh, rather than a joyous groan... And no; not in the slightest bit disappointed because of my poor performance... Because I didn't even start... (Hmm... This hole's getting bigger and bigger, yet I keep digging...) Y'know what? Just shut up... Yeah... That'll teach you...) ...No camera... Now obviously the taxi had left a good 3 or 4 minutes before this point, and he's hardly gonna check his back seat, see a camera, and go out of his way to start a mad headhunt throughout the District of Columbia & Virginia, just to return this old scratched up block of plastic to some British kid who sat in his car once... There's more chance of Al-Qaeda calling off the bombing stuff, and going into the agricultural business, with their new company; Osama's Farmers... It's not that it's an expensive camera (like I said, it's old, scratched up, and only like 5MP), but it's just the combination of my holiday memories being lost, plus knowing that somewhere out there, somebody's holding my stuff, and there's not a damned thing I can do about it... (by the way mysterious, unknown finder of my camera - do us all a favour and delete photo 17 for me without reporting it to the federal agencies... Oh and 19... And 24... And 27... And all of them between 45-63... Hell; just delete anything with an animal, car exhaust, or oddly shaped tree trunk in it... Thanks - much appreciated...) So for the rest of the day (and holiday for that matter), I'm having to cope with the loss of my camera... Now I'm not saying that it's nearly as significant as the loss of JFK, but it certainly made his eternal flame seem a lot tamer than it otherwise would've been...
R.I.P. Kempokam - '05-'11
Thanks,
Kempo.
Shot On Set
July 5th: The first full day in DC today, and as such, dad thought it'd be good to go around looking at sites and such...
So off we went to Capitol building (yeah; they just let me into the American government building, just like that... I mean I really don't understand why Osama had such troubles...) and had a tour about the place... Now, I say "tour", but to be honest, I've had longer house tours than that - we went in a grand total of THREE; yes THREE, small, cramped rooms... All of these rooms were totally insignificant, and only had statues in, with no explanations or backstories; although that's hardly surprising, considering the tourguide we had - a miserable (and I MEAN SERIOUSLY MISERABLE), slouched, pre-pubescent, geeky, droning, little woman took us around within about 10 minutes, with the most carefree attitude I've ever seen... And when she actually DID say something, she said it in the most irritating voice; which see-sawed from suicidal emo, up to mickey mouse, and back down again; about every 6th word... In that sense, I'm glad the tour was short, because my GOD was she giving me a headache...
So we left, and made our way down The Mall, which on the map doesn't look TOO long... But my GOD... when it's up in the low to mid 90s, and you're making your way up there, it's liking trekking the Sahara... The thing I find crazy though, is that the locals were jogging past (although one old boy had his shirt SO drenched in sweat, that it looked as if he'd come straight outta the Atlantic...) and even playing a game of football in the heat (yet these dudes were all about 50, and of course were all Americans; thus terrible at the sport)... We, on the other hand, found it hard enough to just walk it, and so went in some museum, and Ford's theatre, for some American history lessons... Yaaaay... (sarcasm doesn't come through all too well on this, huh?...) So I found out that ol' Abe Lincoln was shot by a racist, above the stage of a comedy play... Naturally, as an ignorant Brit; I knew nothing of what any good presidents have done, (except for Bush Jr being a fat southern fascist, out to needlessly kill as many civilians as physically possible... But then again I said GOOD presidents, so he hardly counts), so I guess I learned something...
The day ended down at National Stadium (which for the record, is the nicest ballpark I've ever been to... Free wifi, leather seats, elevators to your seats, and internal corridors past all the lush boxes to get to your seats to make you feel a little more important... All very good features methinks...) where I got to see another good (albeit low scoring) ball game... They beat the cubs (although let's be honest; who DOESN'T beat the cubs???) 3-2, and I was forced to go against all my morals to actually cheer for Ryan Zimmerman *virtual spit on the floor*... With that all being said; the best part of the night by a LONG way, was the frankly GENIUS Presidents race, at the end of the 3rd inning... Now for those who are unfamiliar with the Nats;,they have 5 main mascots (meaning the fat old paedophiles, as apposed to the small children whom they prey upon): Screech the eagle - the main mascot, and then the four presidents - George Washington, Tom Jefferson, Abe Lincoln, and Teddy Roosevelt. Now all of these 4 presidents are in ridiculously large and hilarious costumes, and at the start of the 3rd inning in every home Nationals game, they have a race... Yes, you read me right (go on, go back a line, and check... It's really true!... Hell; you're on the computer at the moment - YouTube it... "Washington Nationals President Race" - you will NOT regret it...) - a full on 200 meter sprint race around the left side of the field, whilst in their TOTALLY impractical costumes... It is HILARIOUS... Now, I had my money on Abe, and of course he came through for me - pipping Tom on the line; but poor ol' Teddy Roosevelt had about a 10 second head-start, yet STILL didn't get his first win of the year... Still... 200m in 50 seconds isn't too bad for an obese, deceased American... No matter how awesome he is...
Thanks,
Kempo.
So off we went to Capitol building (yeah; they just let me into the American government building, just like that... I mean I really don't understand why Osama had such troubles...) and had a tour about the place... Now, I say "tour", but to be honest, I've had longer house tours than that - we went in a grand total of THREE; yes THREE, small, cramped rooms... All of these rooms were totally insignificant, and only had statues in, with no explanations or backstories; although that's hardly surprising, considering the tourguide we had - a miserable (and I MEAN SERIOUSLY MISERABLE), slouched, pre-pubescent, geeky, droning, little woman took us around within about 10 minutes, with the most carefree attitude I've ever seen... And when she actually DID say something, she said it in the most irritating voice; which see-sawed from suicidal emo, up to mickey mouse, and back down again; about every 6th word... In that sense, I'm glad the tour was short, because my GOD was she giving me a headache...
So we left, and made our way down The Mall, which on the map doesn't look TOO long... But my GOD... when it's up in the low to mid 90s, and you're making your way up there, it's liking trekking the Sahara... The thing I find crazy though, is that the locals were jogging past (although one old boy had his shirt SO drenched in sweat, that it looked as if he'd come straight outta the Atlantic...) and even playing a game of football in the heat (yet these dudes were all about 50, and of course were all Americans; thus terrible at the sport)... We, on the other hand, found it hard enough to just walk it, and so went in some museum, and Ford's theatre, for some American history lessons... Yaaaay... (sarcasm doesn't come through all too well on this, huh?...) So I found out that ol' Abe Lincoln was shot by a racist, above the stage of a comedy play... Naturally, as an ignorant Brit; I knew nothing of what any good presidents have done, (except for Bush Jr being a fat southern fascist, out to needlessly kill as many civilians as physically possible... But then again I said GOOD presidents, so he hardly counts), so I guess I learned something...
The day ended down at National Stadium (which for the record, is the nicest ballpark I've ever been to... Free wifi, leather seats, elevators to your seats, and internal corridors past all the lush boxes to get to your seats to make you feel a little more important... All very good features methinks...) where I got to see another good (albeit low scoring) ball game... They beat the cubs (although let's be honest; who DOESN'T beat the cubs???) 3-2, and I was forced to go against all my morals to actually cheer for Ryan Zimmerman *virtual spit on the floor*... With that all being said; the best part of the night by a LONG way, was the frankly GENIUS Presidents race, at the end of the 3rd inning... Now for those who are unfamiliar with the Nats;,they have 5 main mascots (meaning the fat old paedophiles, as apposed to the small children whom they prey upon): Screech the eagle - the main mascot, and then the four presidents - George Washington, Tom Jefferson, Abe Lincoln, and Teddy Roosevelt. Now all of these 4 presidents are in ridiculously large and hilarious costumes, and at the start of the 3rd inning in every home Nationals game, they have a race... Yes, you read me right (go on, go back a line, and check... It's really true!... Hell; you're on the computer at the moment - YouTube it... "Washington Nationals President Race" - you will NOT regret it...) - a full on 200 meter sprint race around the left side of the field, whilst in their TOTALLY impractical costumes... It is HILARIOUS... Now, I had my money on Abe, and of course he came through for me - pipping Tom on the line; but poor ol' Teddy Roosevelt had about a 10 second head-start, yet STILL didn't get his first win of the year... Still... 200m in 50 seconds isn't too bad for an obese, deceased American... No matter how awesome he is...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Tuesday 5 July 2011
I've Tracked You Down Mr President...
July 4th: Well first of all; let me take this opportunity to say that there is NO WIFI in my Washington hotel, and as such I don't know when these blog posts will be put up... They will eventually - even if it means the day I arrive home, but I'm gonna be datestamping each entry, just so that it makes sense, from here on out. I will be making an entry every day though, and so like I say; at one point or another in the next 10 or so days, they'll all be up to date...
Now that I've gotten that out of the way...
That is just about the GREATEST headline pun in the history of the world... Incorporating the blog name, and the fact that I've spent the majority of today in a train seat, journeying from New York to Washington DC; travelling all the way down the East coast... I spent the large part of the journey, sitting gazing gormlessly out of the window, at the constant cycles of darkness, lightness, greenness, and blueness, like a colourblind man looking down a kaleidoscope... Yes it really was as horrendously dull as I described it...
STILL!!! Today is the 4th of July, meaning the celebration of America's 235 years of independance... As it happens, I'm in the capital city of America, so the celebration here is just about the biggest about... For that reason, almost ALL shops and restaurants were shut... We therefore had to make a compromise, and the only place we could find even remotely resembling a restaurant was this little fast food diner on the corner of the street... Now I say fast food; but truth be told, there was nothing fast about it - we were sat about waiting for no less than about 25 minutes for just a bacon cheeseburger and fries each (hardly difficult to prepare stuff; let's be honest...). So like I say, we sat down waiting in the main restaurant, and as we sit down, I hear a squeal from across the room; heads thunder round, to greet a parade of cockroaches marching across the floor... My mum leaps out of her chair, and runs faster than I've ever seen her move before, right outside... She then goes on to question every single local she can see on the street about the matter; all of whom seemed relatively unfazed; saying that "it's normal in summer"; ALL of whom got a look of discerning horror from my mother, as she continued her quest to find someone equally disgusted by the creatures...
After eating, we made our way down by the monument for the big fireworks show... Now of course it didn't start instantly (we had to wait for about 2 hours while some unknown yokel loser kept singing her greatest country hits. Although I strongly question the definition of the term "hit"... I can tell you now that nobody of the million or so on the field sung along with her, and rightly so... the songs were shocking...), but once it did, I have to admit that the show was pretty spectacular... I mean, sure it started off a little slow, but finished with an almighty bang... literally... The fireworks were pretty freaking insane, it's gotta be said - those Americans sure know how to celebrate genocide; I'll give them that...
So yeah; after a highly enjoyable show, we had to awkwardly scamper back to the hotel, amidst the crowds of millions of Washington...(ers?), hiding our accent, whilst the drunk young murrican men sung (although I use the word "sung" in the LOOSEST terms possible) God Bless America, whilst vomiting on their girlfriends, and urinating into the reflecting pool... Ahh the beauty of American youth...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Now that I've gotten that out of the way...
That is just about the GREATEST headline pun in the history of the world... Incorporating the blog name, and the fact that I've spent the majority of today in a train seat, journeying from New York to Washington DC; travelling all the way down the East coast... I spent the large part of the journey, sitting gazing gormlessly out of the window, at the constant cycles of darkness, lightness, greenness, and blueness, like a colourblind man looking down a kaleidoscope... Yes it really was as horrendously dull as I described it...
STILL!!! Today is the 4th of July, meaning the celebration of America's 235 years of independance... As it happens, I'm in the capital city of America, so the celebration here is just about the biggest about... For that reason, almost ALL shops and restaurants were shut... We therefore had to make a compromise, and the only place we could find even remotely resembling a restaurant was this little fast food diner on the corner of the street... Now I say fast food; but truth be told, there was nothing fast about it - we were sat about waiting for no less than about 25 minutes for just a bacon cheeseburger and fries each (hardly difficult to prepare stuff; let's be honest...). So like I say, we sat down waiting in the main restaurant, and as we sit down, I hear a squeal from across the room; heads thunder round, to greet a parade of cockroaches marching across the floor... My mum leaps out of her chair, and runs faster than I've ever seen her move before, right outside... She then goes on to question every single local she can see on the street about the matter; all of whom seemed relatively unfazed; saying that "it's normal in summer"; ALL of whom got a look of discerning horror from my mother, as she continued her quest to find someone equally disgusted by the creatures...
After eating, we made our way down by the monument for the big fireworks show... Now of course it didn't start instantly (we had to wait for about 2 hours while some unknown yokel loser kept singing her greatest country hits. Although I strongly question the definition of the term "hit"... I can tell you now that nobody of the million or so on the field sung along with her, and rightly so... the songs were shocking...), but once it did, I have to admit that the show was pretty spectacular... I mean, sure it started off a little slow, but finished with an almighty bang... literally... The fireworks were pretty freaking insane, it's gotta be said - those Americans sure know how to celebrate genocide; I'll give them that...
So yeah; after a highly enjoyable show, we had to awkwardly scamper back to the hotel, amidst the crowds of millions of Washington...(ers?), hiding our accent, whilst the drunk young murrican men sung (although I use the word "sung" in the LOOSEST terms possible) God Bless America, whilst vomiting on their girlfriends, and urinating into the reflecting pool... Ahh the beauty of American youth...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Monday 4 July 2011
Imagine There's No Rainclouds... Let's See If You Can... No Shoddy Weather... Just Me Getting A Tan... Imagine All The People... Rocking The Ray Bans... And You-ou-ou-ou... You May Say I'm A Dreamer... But I'm Not The Only One... I Hope Some Day-ay-ay-ay You Will Join Us... And The World Might Get Some Sun...
It was really quite a pleasant, relaxing day, yesterday... Even if the weather wasn't so much...
We awoke to the ROAR of thunder and heavy rain hitting the New York skyline, early in the morning; got ready and went to breakfast, shielding ourselves from the rain... I don't think I've told you about the breakfast restaurant, so I shall right now... This little place gives us free breakfast with the hotel, where we get all the usual (tea, coffee, juice, egg, bacon, sausage, toast etc. etc.), only it's full of some of the most enthusiastic waitresses on the face of the planet. All of these women are originally Eastern Europeans, and the one which we have had (who is Polish), prances about with this gigantic grin on her face, as she pours out her coffee... Now whether this is because she genuinely loves her job, or just because we tip her $15 for an essentially free meal (someone's not doing the math right; I'm pretty damn sure 20% of nothing isn't $15...), remains to be seen; but the service and food is genuinely quite good to be honest...
So we did all that, and with weather still firmly in UK setting, we decided that it would be a good time to visit the New York Museum Of Natural History, as it's indoors... Verdict? Well... (you know something's never gonna be good, when the sentence just starts with "Well...") it wasn't bad per-se... Just... Not quite up to the standards of our museum, really... I mean don't get me wrong; it was still interesting to see the dinosaur remains and stuff; but when free wifi connection is the best thing about a building, you know it's probably not worth the tenner entry fee...
Once we came out of the museum, the sky has cleared just a little bit, so we went outside, bought a $3 hotdog from a roadside dealer (which, for the record, was just about the size of my indexfinger - I could've gotten more sausage, by moving to Thailand, and looking for attractive women...), then decided to have a nice little walk around Central Park... I do like it in the park; especially at the reservoir; which is where we stopped off for quite a little while, to take a few photos, and gaze curiously at these odd little turtles that seemed to be having a threesome, whilst balancing on a log, in the middle of the water (now I didn't see THAT in the Karma Sutra...)... We carried on a bit further into Strawberry Fields (of course where Mr Chapman sat waiting, before shooting the late, great John Lennon), where we decided to scavenge our way into a free guide of the area by a tour guide whom was clearly charging a premium for his mediocre services... An ensemble of reddening, vengeful faces in the listening crowd, one by one looked over at us, in some failed attempt of intimidation, trying to shun us into leaving; as they realised that not only had they wasted their own money on this pointless explanation on how 'Beatles fans might like this area'; but that we were getting exactly the same horrendous commodity for absolutely nothing... And what's more? We didn't have to spend the next three hours, trundling about the streets, locked in a coach with the boring old weasel, and no means of escape...
The end of the day was possibly the most enjoyable part, as we cruised the city streets on the NYC night tour... Now I've done it before, but even so, to see the city lit up at night is something pretty damn awesome... The thing I wasn't best pleased with though, was the fact that we were atop an open-topped double-decker bus, twice crossing the Manhattan Bridge; which has only a 3feet tall barrier on either side, and about a 150feet deep fall... I think it would be fair to say that I was pooping myself, looking over the edge at that point...
But anyways; today's July 4th, which means two things - nutty Americans, and me leaving my beloved New York... I'm off to catch a train to DC now, and don't know if I'll have Internet connection there... I hope I do... But let's just wait and see...
I'll see you when I see you...
Thanks,
Kempo.
We awoke to the ROAR of thunder and heavy rain hitting the New York skyline, early in the morning; got ready and went to breakfast, shielding ourselves from the rain... I don't think I've told you about the breakfast restaurant, so I shall right now... This little place gives us free breakfast with the hotel, where we get all the usual (tea, coffee, juice, egg, bacon, sausage, toast etc. etc.), only it's full of some of the most enthusiastic waitresses on the face of the planet. All of these women are originally Eastern Europeans, and the one which we have had (who is Polish), prances about with this gigantic grin on her face, as she pours out her coffee... Now whether this is because she genuinely loves her job, or just because we tip her $15 for an essentially free meal (someone's not doing the math right; I'm pretty damn sure 20% of nothing isn't $15...), remains to be seen; but the service and food is genuinely quite good to be honest...
So we did all that, and with weather still firmly in UK setting, we decided that it would be a good time to visit the New York Museum Of Natural History, as it's indoors... Verdict? Well... (you know something's never gonna be good, when the sentence just starts with "Well...") it wasn't bad per-se... Just... Not quite up to the standards of our museum, really... I mean don't get me wrong; it was still interesting to see the dinosaur remains and stuff; but when free wifi connection is the best thing about a building, you know it's probably not worth the tenner entry fee...
Once we came out of the museum, the sky has cleared just a little bit, so we went outside, bought a $3 hotdog from a roadside dealer (which, for the record, was just about the size of my indexfinger - I could've gotten more sausage, by moving to Thailand, and looking for attractive women...), then decided to have a nice little walk around Central Park... I do like it in the park; especially at the reservoir; which is where we stopped off for quite a little while, to take a few photos, and gaze curiously at these odd little turtles that seemed to be having a threesome, whilst balancing on a log, in the middle of the water (now I didn't see THAT in the Karma Sutra...)... We carried on a bit further into Strawberry Fields (of course where Mr Chapman sat waiting, before shooting the late, great John Lennon), where we decided to scavenge our way into a free guide of the area by a tour guide whom was clearly charging a premium for his mediocre services... An ensemble of reddening, vengeful faces in the listening crowd, one by one looked over at us, in some failed attempt of intimidation, trying to shun us into leaving; as they realised that not only had they wasted their own money on this pointless explanation on how 'Beatles fans might like this area'; but that we were getting exactly the same horrendous commodity for absolutely nothing... And what's more? We didn't have to spend the next three hours, trundling about the streets, locked in a coach with the boring old weasel, and no means of escape...
The end of the day was possibly the most enjoyable part, as we cruised the city streets on the NYC night tour... Now I've done it before, but even so, to see the city lit up at night is something pretty damn awesome... The thing I wasn't best pleased with though, was the fact that we were atop an open-topped double-decker bus, twice crossing the Manhattan Bridge; which has only a 3feet tall barrier on either side, and about a 150feet deep fall... I think it would be fair to say that I was pooping myself, looking over the edge at that point...
But anyways; today's July 4th, which means two things - nutty Americans, and me leaving my beloved New York... I'm off to catch a train to DC now, and don't know if I'll have Internet connection there... I hope I do... But let's just wait and see...
I'll see you when I see you...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Sunday 3 July 2011
We're On The Road To Nowhere...
We spent practically the ENTIRE day on the road, yesterday... Half of the time, needlessly going around in circles...
We spent the first half of the day proudly exclaiming to the world, of our tourist status; by sitting atop an obnoxiously decorated open-topped bus, touring Downtown NYC, with a guide on the mic, who looked a splitting image of Art Garfunkel... The only conceivable measure of making us MORE obvious tourists, would be to buy one of those clichéd "I <3 NY" T-shirts, and wearing enough suncream to be easily confused as the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters...
The tour as a whole was quite pleasant though, and the guide gave a decent.... guide... Before we got off at Ground Zero... Now I tell you; the work they've done there since 9/11 is quite remarkable - they've already built a beautiful couple of waterfalls on the foundations of the original towers, which is a really tranquil memorial; as well as begun the building of the new World Trade Centre, with what will be the tallest building in the city... What I find disgraceful though is the amount of people who have used the event as an easy way of cashing in, by making booklets and T-shirts, and other such crap, to sell to passing tourists, with slogans on 9/11... I mean seriously?!? Are these people so damn near braindead to fail to realise that some people may find this stuff a touch distasteful?!? My deepest sympathies go to those directly affected by it, because they deserve much more than some pathetic sweatshop slogan...
We then took a little stroll down Wall Street, and past the US Stock Exchange, before turning up at Pier... 13?... I think it was 13... Can't really remember if truth be told, but it may as well have been 13, because the cancer that is Justin Bieber was apparently there... I didn't see him (which is a shame really, because I'd have really quite liked to whack him round the head with a golf club), but my mum said he was there, and due to the hoards of little, fat, lonely, and delusional 12 year old girls in Disney outfits, scampering about; I am not one to question it... As I say though; I was just a tad disappointed that, that was the one day I decided against bringing my Personal All-In-One Guillotine Kit from JML, which I purchased with not one, not two, not even three; but FOUR free blades for calling in the next 10 minutes... Genuine guttedness...
Later in the day, we climbed atop the Rockefeller Centre (although let me point out that I mean via elevator, as apposed to full out human-spidermanesque climbing up the side of the building - we are FAR too lazy to attempt that...), and had a look around at the NYC skyline from above... Some nutter decided that it'd be fun to try to climb over the huge barrier though, just to "take a bit better picture", at the risk of falling 70 stories, to his human-pancakey demise... Whilst up there, I also found a huge amount of Asian families... Now I don't know why this is, but I find that whenever Asian people are taking a photograph on holiday, the woman and children will always be making a large enough smile to give themselves a facial tumour, whilst gesturing this stupid little sign with their first two fingers... Meanwhile, the man stands there, with the sole job of looking as miserable as conceivably possible; only making the others look somehow EVEN MORE happy... Why can't they just all give an awkwardly false orgasm-face smile, like the rest of us?...
So we came down, had ourselves some dinner in TGI Fridays, after waiting for the waitress (who looked like Serena Williams with some 42E cups going on) for nigh on a millennium to serve us; and began the trip home... Now that should have been it for this entry, but no... of course not... On our trip home; which should have taken perhaps 15 minutes at most; turned into an hour and a half long marathon around the entire city of New York... The self proclaimed geographical genie that is my father, had decided that rather than going back by the known route to which we had taken to get to TGI's; it would be MUCH easier and quicker to go in some unknown direction... "OK..." we said, and began walking down this road.... 15 minutes on, we end up half way down the road and he decides to say "... Umm... Guys?... I don't think you'll believe it, but... I think we're going in the wrong direction..."; so I was like "OK, that doesn't matter all too much; how far far wrong are we?...", to which the response comes "Totally... We're meant to be going the COMPLETELY different direction...". Naturally, I assumed that he meant we missed the turning or whatever; but no... Of course, he meant that we had to walk ALL THE WAY back through what we had just spent all this time walking, until the point where we were essentially the same distance from TGI Friday's as we otherwise were; just in the other direction... So we carry on, before he says "... Umm... Guys?... I don't think you'll believe it, but I think we're going in the wrong direction...". Now obviously at this point, seeing as it's 11:30pm, and we've been out all day; I'm SERIOUSLY PISSED, because I just wanted a bit of sleep, yknow?... (Hardly asking of much...) So from there on out, in some passive aggressive spat, I decided to just walk off on my own to the hotel (because I'm hard like that)... And of course; I found my way back IMMEDIATELY...
Now if there's ANYTHING even SLIGHTLY positive that can come out of that little fiasco (which certainly won't be my fatigue levels, considering that I only got about 7 hours sleep, and now look like a half-dead gibbon with a stroke...) it's that I now know what to get my dad for Christmas... A freaking compass...
Thanks,
Kempo.
We spent the first half of the day proudly exclaiming to the world, of our tourist status; by sitting atop an obnoxiously decorated open-topped bus, touring Downtown NYC, with a guide on the mic, who looked a splitting image of Art Garfunkel... The only conceivable measure of making us MORE obvious tourists, would be to buy one of those clichéd "I <3 NY" T-shirts, and wearing enough suncream to be easily confused as the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters...
The tour as a whole was quite pleasant though, and the guide gave a decent.... guide... Before we got off at Ground Zero... Now I tell you; the work they've done there since 9/11 is quite remarkable - they've already built a beautiful couple of waterfalls on the foundations of the original towers, which is a really tranquil memorial; as well as begun the building of the new World Trade Centre, with what will be the tallest building in the city... What I find disgraceful though is the amount of people who have used the event as an easy way of cashing in, by making booklets and T-shirts, and other such crap, to sell to passing tourists, with slogans on 9/11... I mean seriously?!? Are these people so damn near braindead to fail to realise that some people may find this stuff a touch distasteful?!? My deepest sympathies go to those directly affected by it, because they deserve much more than some pathetic sweatshop slogan...
We then took a little stroll down Wall Street, and past the US Stock Exchange, before turning up at Pier... 13?... I think it was 13... Can't really remember if truth be told, but it may as well have been 13, because the cancer that is Justin Bieber was apparently there... I didn't see him (which is a shame really, because I'd have really quite liked to whack him round the head with a golf club), but my mum said he was there, and due to the hoards of little, fat, lonely, and delusional 12 year old girls in Disney outfits, scampering about; I am not one to question it... As I say though; I was just a tad disappointed that, that was the one day I decided against bringing my Personal All-In-One Guillotine Kit from JML, which I purchased with not one, not two, not even three; but FOUR free blades for calling in the next 10 minutes... Genuine guttedness...
Later in the day, we climbed atop the Rockefeller Centre (although let me point out that I mean via elevator, as apposed to full out human-spidermanesque climbing up the side of the building - we are FAR too lazy to attempt that...), and had a look around at the NYC skyline from above... Some nutter decided that it'd be fun to try to climb over the huge barrier though, just to "take a bit better picture", at the risk of falling 70 stories, to his human-pancakey demise... Whilst up there, I also found a huge amount of Asian families... Now I don't know why this is, but I find that whenever Asian people are taking a photograph on holiday, the woman and children will always be making a large enough smile to give themselves a facial tumour, whilst gesturing this stupid little sign with their first two fingers... Meanwhile, the man stands there, with the sole job of looking as miserable as conceivably possible; only making the others look somehow EVEN MORE happy... Why can't they just all give an awkwardly false orgasm-face smile, like the rest of us?...
So we came down, had ourselves some dinner in TGI Fridays, after waiting for the waitress (who looked like Serena Williams with some 42E cups going on) for nigh on a millennium to serve us; and began the trip home... Now that should have been it for this entry, but no... of course not... On our trip home; which should have taken perhaps 15 minutes at most; turned into an hour and a half long marathon around the entire city of New York... The self proclaimed geographical genie that is my father, had decided that rather than going back by the known route to which we had taken to get to TGI's; it would be MUCH easier and quicker to go in some unknown direction... "OK..." we said, and began walking down this road.... 15 minutes on, we end up half way down the road and he decides to say "... Umm... Guys?... I don't think you'll believe it, but... I think we're going in the wrong direction..."; so I was like "OK, that doesn't matter all too much; how far far wrong are we?...", to which the response comes "Totally... We're meant to be going the COMPLETELY different direction...". Naturally, I assumed that he meant we missed the turning or whatever; but no... Of course, he meant that we had to walk ALL THE WAY back through what we had just spent all this time walking, until the point where we were essentially the same distance from TGI Friday's as we otherwise were; just in the other direction... So we carry on, before he says "... Umm... Guys?... I don't think you'll believe it, but I think we're going in the wrong direction...". Now obviously at this point, seeing as it's 11:30pm, and we've been out all day; I'm SERIOUSLY PISSED, because I just wanted a bit of sleep, yknow?... (Hardly asking of much...) So from there on out, in some passive aggressive spat, I decided to just walk off on my own to the hotel (because I'm hard like that)... And of course; I found my way back IMMEDIATELY...
Now if there's ANYTHING even SLIGHTLY positive that can come out of that little fiasco (which certainly won't be my fatigue levels, considering that I only got about 7 hours sleep, and now look like a half-dead gibbon with a stroke...) it's that I now know what to get my dad for Christmas... A freaking compass...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Saturday 2 July 2011
And It's 1! 2! 3 Strikes You're Out! At A Mets Ball Game...
Things improved tenfold yesterday, as we didn't have to visit a single emergency facility... Wonderful...
Spending the morning on a ferry; we toured the entire of NYC from the Hudson, meeting some extreme Christian couple from Tennessee, in the process; who happen to know less about their own sports than me - "yknow that thing with the throwing stick thing?" "Yes...Lacrosse..."
So we sailed about for a bit; I took few a pictures, and we all enjoyed the 28 degrees sunshine.
We then left, took a trip down 5th Avenue (which, for the record had some of the most stupendously expensive shops in the universe, all concentrated within the confines of 500 yards), and got ready for our evening trip to Queens...
Turned up at Citifield at about 6 for a 7:10 start, but the first thing I've gotta say - Citifield is a BEAUTIFUL ballpark... I mean I thought Shea was sexy, but Citifield makes it look like a wrinkled, old, obese, albino woman in a G-String, in comparison.... Unfortunately for us, the game itself didn't quite live up to that sort of quality... I mean don't get me wrong; going to a subway series game is something pretty damn special, especially the atmosphere (there was like an internal warfare between the mets and the yanks fans; one would chant "Let's Go Yankees", the other would chant "Yankees Suck", they'd hit a double, A-Rod would then come to bat, and be greeted by the chorus of "You Took Steroids" all to the same non-melodic cult-like tune; and it would repeat over and over for the following 4 hours...), but the scoreline wasn't quite as emphatic as I'dve hoped... Especially seeing as it was 0-3 on the top of the first... It all turned a bit defensive from there on out, to be honest, and so scoring was pretty freaking low overall - 5-1 by the end I think...
That being said, it was still a very enjoyable night out, because I always love going to see a Bigs game... Hopefully the next game I go to (in about 10 days time) is a little more exciting on the field...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Spending the morning on a ferry; we toured the entire of NYC from the Hudson, meeting some extreme Christian couple from Tennessee, in the process; who happen to know less about their own sports than me - "yknow that thing with the throwing stick thing?" "Yes...Lacrosse..."
So we sailed about for a bit; I took few a pictures, and we all enjoyed the 28 degrees sunshine.
We then left, took a trip down 5th Avenue (which, for the record had some of the most stupendously expensive shops in the universe, all concentrated within the confines of 500 yards), and got ready for our evening trip to Queens...
Turned up at Citifield at about 6 for a 7:10 start, but the first thing I've gotta say - Citifield is a BEAUTIFUL ballpark... I mean I thought Shea was sexy, but Citifield makes it look like a wrinkled, old, obese, albino woman in a G-String, in comparison.... Unfortunately for us, the game itself didn't quite live up to that sort of quality... I mean don't get me wrong; going to a subway series game is something pretty damn special, especially the atmosphere (there was like an internal warfare between the mets and the yanks fans; one would chant "Let's Go Yankees", the other would chant "Yankees Suck", they'd hit a double, A-Rod would then come to bat, and be greeted by the chorus of "You Took Steroids" all to the same non-melodic cult-like tune; and it would repeat over and over for the following 4 hours...), but the scoreline wasn't quite as emphatic as I'dve hoped... Especially seeing as it was 0-3 on the top of the first... It all turned a bit defensive from there on out, to be honest, and so scoring was pretty freaking low overall - 5-1 by the end I think...
That being said, it was still a very enjoyable night out, because I always love going to see a Bigs game... Hopefully the next game I go to (in about 10 days time) is a little more exciting on the field...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Friday 1 July 2011
Yesterday... Seemed My Troubles Were So Far Away... Now Looks As Though They're Here To Stay...
Well.... I arrived yesterday... And at first I thought the blog post would be as short and simple as that, but oh how I was wrong... It ACTUALLY turned out to be one of the worst holiday...days of all time... Well certainly from my life...
So we woke up at 5:30AM GMT (needlessly early really), and set off in our cars to the car park. Some minor issues there, before we went off to the airport. As I had persisted in spite of my dad's perilous worry; the queues were pretty minimal, and despite passports not being accepted at first (again, only minor issues really) we ended up getting through relatively easy; went through the duty free, bought myself some CK aftershave, and sat down for a nice morning cuppa in Costa coffee. It's all good right?...
So away we went, stepped on the plane, awaiting 7 hours of sheer boredom, made ever so slightly better by the introduction of so called "entertainment" on the screens provided. Now of course, this is all well and good, but when the only two watchable programmes available are The Big Bang Theory, and Two and a Half Men, with four episodes a piece on there, you quickly find that there's not a lot else able to fill the remaining 4 hours of torture, but sleep... That, I attempted, but with some 130 year old dear sat in front of me, insisting that the only way to sit on her seat, is to have it laying as far back as possible, to the extent where her head was essentially in my lap, like a necrophilic Santa; you can quickly understand why sleeping was hardly a priority... Instead, I decided to dedicate what time I had remaining to the only playable game of the 26 on selection; the Atari classic Centipede. To my disappointment however, this flight version wasn't a thing like the original. After perhaps 15 levels, difficulty refused to increase; all that happened was that more and more and more waves of the damned insect creatures of burden, would spawn and die before levelling up. I beat the all-time high score by level 21, and by level 30, I'd reached a state of semi-comatosis...
Well to cut a long and tedious story short, we turned up at NYC on 2:00pm EST (7:00 GMT for those of you who can't be bothered to look up timezones), grabbed a taxi, who was INSISTENT that the quickest route to Central Manhattan is by going around the ENTIRE city of New York... Let's just say he didn't get tipped particularly well...
So we got into the hotel at 3; rested, went out to dinner at 6, and so begun the trauma, in what was initially intended to be a pleasant, light-hearted meal in the shrimp-based diner so called Bubba Gump... Now I've never taken the opportunity to watch the film, but from the restaurant's outrageously excessive Forrest décor, and the waiter(who for the record was one of the most flamboyantly homosexual individuals I have ever seen in my life)'s urge to give us "a little Forrest quiz!" (to which, quite awkwardly, none of the Kempton family; in spite of our acclaimed cinematographic prowess, knew ANY answers to, by the way); I gathered this restaurant may have had a slight link with Forrest Gump... Now after the awkward silent response to the three (apparently beginner) questions (I mean seriously, how is ANYONE meant to know that the guy loved "Jenny"???... Before yesterday, I knew that he had a slight inclination on running, but that was about it...), the man decided to leave us alone, and as if by evil spite-filled curse, immediately a certain member of our table decided to faint...
I mean it wasn't a particularly hot or humid day, but they plain out KOd... Not good... So one of the Bubba faithful called an ambulance, whilst half of our table tried to wake them up, and the other half ran out to get help of some sort... Within 5 minutes, we had 4 policemen, 5 firemen, and 3 paramedics (because apparently Americans can't understand that perhaps it might be better to have more medics than fire crew, when someone needs medical help), all around our table, with the tables around us just sat, jaws gaping (not because they were shocked by what's happening - it just proved to be the most effective shrimp-eating technique) and the little gay man had returned to do a jig of panicked exasperation...
Well I know what you're wondering; "Are you ever gonna finish", and in a Hoffstadteresque response, I say "yes they're fine now, thanks for asking..." I'm currently walking down to pick up a ferry past the statue of the ol' green woman with a torch... (cue colourblind KKK joke, which I chose to rid, in case some angry Murricans were reading this) the next day, and our group is whole, and healthy... That being said; staying in a foreign hospital A&E waiting room for about 5 hours, last night, wasn't exactly the ideal arrival present....
On the plus side; Mets tonight!!!
Thanks,
Kempo.
So we woke up at 5:30AM GMT (needlessly early really), and set off in our cars to the car park. Some minor issues there, before we went off to the airport. As I had persisted in spite of my dad's perilous worry; the queues were pretty minimal, and despite passports not being accepted at first (again, only minor issues really) we ended up getting through relatively easy; went through the duty free, bought myself some CK aftershave, and sat down for a nice morning cuppa in Costa coffee. It's all good right?...
So away we went, stepped on the plane, awaiting 7 hours of sheer boredom, made ever so slightly better by the introduction of so called "entertainment" on the screens provided. Now of course, this is all well and good, but when the only two watchable programmes available are The Big Bang Theory, and Two and a Half Men, with four episodes a piece on there, you quickly find that there's not a lot else able to fill the remaining 4 hours of torture, but sleep... That, I attempted, but with some 130 year old dear sat in front of me, insisting that the only way to sit on her seat, is to have it laying as far back as possible, to the extent where her head was essentially in my lap, like a necrophilic Santa; you can quickly understand why sleeping was hardly a priority... Instead, I decided to dedicate what time I had remaining to the only playable game of the 26 on selection; the Atari classic Centipede. To my disappointment however, this flight version wasn't a thing like the original. After perhaps 15 levels, difficulty refused to increase; all that happened was that more and more and more waves of the damned insect creatures of burden, would spawn and die before levelling up. I beat the all-time high score by level 21, and by level 30, I'd reached a state of semi-comatosis...
Well to cut a long and tedious story short, we turned up at NYC on 2:00pm EST (7:00 GMT for those of you who can't be bothered to look up timezones), grabbed a taxi, who was INSISTENT that the quickest route to Central Manhattan is by going around the ENTIRE city of New York... Let's just say he didn't get tipped particularly well...
So we got into the hotel at 3; rested, went out to dinner at 6, and so begun the trauma, in what was initially intended to be a pleasant, light-hearted meal in the shrimp-based diner so called Bubba Gump... Now I've never taken the opportunity to watch the film, but from the restaurant's outrageously excessive Forrest décor, and the waiter(who for the record was one of the most flamboyantly homosexual individuals I have ever seen in my life)'s urge to give us "a little Forrest quiz!" (to which, quite awkwardly, none of the Kempton family; in spite of our acclaimed cinematographic prowess, knew ANY answers to, by the way); I gathered this restaurant may have had a slight link with Forrest Gump... Now after the awkward silent response to the three (apparently beginner) questions (I mean seriously, how is ANYONE meant to know that the guy loved "Jenny"???... Before yesterday, I knew that he had a slight inclination on running, but that was about it...), the man decided to leave us alone, and as if by evil spite-filled curse, immediately a certain member of our table decided to faint...
I mean it wasn't a particularly hot or humid day, but they plain out KOd... Not good... So one of the Bubba faithful called an ambulance, whilst half of our table tried to wake them up, and the other half ran out to get help of some sort... Within 5 minutes, we had 4 policemen, 5 firemen, and 3 paramedics (because apparently Americans can't understand that perhaps it might be better to have more medics than fire crew, when someone needs medical help), all around our table, with the tables around us just sat, jaws gaping (not because they were shocked by what's happening - it just proved to be the most effective shrimp-eating technique) and the little gay man had returned to do a jig of panicked exasperation...
Well I know what you're wondering; "Are you ever gonna finish", and in a Hoffstadteresque response, I say "yes they're fine now, thanks for asking..." I'm currently walking down to pick up a ferry past the statue of the ol' green woman with a torch... (cue colourblind KKK joke, which I chose to rid, in case some angry Murricans were reading this) the next day, and our group is whole, and healthy... That being said; staying in a foreign hospital A&E waiting room for about 5 hours, last night, wasn't exactly the ideal arrival present....
On the plus side; Mets tonight!!!
Thanks,
Kempo.
Wednesday 29 June 2011
I'm Gonna Be A Part Of It...
Wow... Seems a bit mad that this is the last (albeit only the third ever) blog post I shall be making before I'm officially away... In precisely one hour's time, I shall be leaving the comfort of the denim semi-wrecked desk-stool to which I am currently sitting, and sitting in the back of my parent's car, on a two hour trip down the bustling M25 to Heathrow, where I shall be spending the night in a run-of-the-mill hotel, desperately trying to get just the smallest amount of sleep in spite of the garishly high temperatures, and the abundance of planes flying over our very much non-soundproof walls... I shall then wake up at the negotiated time of 5:45am (parents wanted it to be 5:30; I much preferred the idea of a nice lay-in until around 9ish, but acknowledged that sacrifices needed to be made), ready to fight through the hoards of angry commuters, after the conveniently timed trade-union strikes, and sit on my seat, ready to worry relentlessly about the possibility of the worst happening, whilst I sit through sub-standard entertainment on a 2 inch screen, such as the never-before-seen 900,000th episode of The Brady Bunch, and the soon to hit the screens epic Mal-Cop 2, which is somehow even less exciting than the prequel...
Well all that I can say is that so long as I'm not sat between two obese Albanian women with excruciatingly severe body odour, and the inflight movie is Biodome with Polly Shore, and they run out of Dr Pepper & salted peanuts; I think it'll be safe to say that it shall be ok...
Currently however, my parents are doing the typical thing which people do before they go away.... panic. They seem adament that SOMETHING is still plugged in, or that SOMEHOW the house will get burgled, and burnt to ground, and then knocked down by hippies to begin construction on the world's first flower furnished cathouse... I, on the other hand have no such dramaticism, and in the 30 minutes it's taken me to type this so far, have not even yet begun packing my hand-luggage, despite the ongoing fury of my mother upon the subject... I had really ought to do it now, but considering that I've been given a pair of boxers to put in there as "an emergency spare", I'm not feeling particularly excited about the prospect of it, in all honesty...
With that all said; now that everything else is out of the way (I officially signed off to say that I am no longer a student at my school, this morning; and thus joined one of the recklessly useless unemployed thereafter), I have to say that I am genuinely quite looking forward to the next fortenight or so. It seems mad to think that in just 2 or 3 days time, I'm gonna be sitting in Citifield watching my Mets beat Jeter and scum... That's probably just because we all know that the Mets have no chance of winning... Even so, I still look forward to it...
Well I have to leave now, So I'll get back to you when I get back to you.
Thanks,
Kempo.
Well all that I can say is that so long as I'm not sat between two obese Albanian women with excruciatingly severe body odour, and the inflight movie is Biodome with Polly Shore, and they run out of Dr Pepper & salted peanuts; I think it'll be safe to say that it shall be ok...
Currently however, my parents are doing the typical thing which people do before they go away.... panic. They seem adament that SOMETHING is still plugged in, or that SOMEHOW the house will get burgled, and burnt to ground, and then knocked down by hippies to begin construction on the world's first flower furnished cathouse... I, on the other hand have no such dramaticism, and in the 30 minutes it's taken me to type this so far, have not even yet begun packing my hand-luggage, despite the ongoing fury of my mother upon the subject... I had really ought to do it now, but considering that I've been given a pair of boxers to put in there as "an emergency spare", I'm not feeling particularly excited about the prospect of it, in all honesty...
With that all said; now that everything else is out of the way (I officially signed off to say that I am no longer a student at my school, this morning; and thus joined one of the recklessly useless unemployed thereafter), I have to say that I am genuinely quite looking forward to the next fortenight or so. It seems mad to think that in just 2 or 3 days time, I'm gonna be sitting in Citifield watching my Mets beat Jeter and scum... That's probably just because we all know that the Mets have no chance of winning... Even so, I still look forward to it...
Well I have to leave now, So I'll get back to you when I get back to you.
Thanks,
Kempo.
Wednesday 22 June 2011
Times Nearly Here
Wow.... Seems a bit mad really, but it's only a week now until I'm gonna be leaving here for big ol' Murrica... I mean you'd think that I'd be excited about it, and genuinely I am... Just... Can only feel that I'm missing out on stuff at home... I don't know really; it's a bit weird... My mind has been a bit all over the place in recent weeks, so maybe this break's just something I really need to let it all settle down a little bit....
Wow... now that's weird... Live forever just came up on my iPod... stopped me in my typing for a little bit there... But not only is it probably one of Oasis' best songs, and one of my personal favourites, but it just about sums up exactly how I'm feeling right about now better than I could've put into words.... So yeah; if you're really that bothered listen to that, and perhaps you'll understand... hmm... that's really genuinely weird how that song just decided to come on...
Aaaaaaanywhoozles.... That's not the point... The point is that I have just a week left here until I'm shooting out stateside, and considering all the exam period, and these rediculously late night skype calls, which despite me absolutely loving (the skype that is, as apposed to the exams... I could really do without the exams... I mean honestly; employers should just take my natural genius for granted, and employ me rather than ordering the issue of some pathetic little peice of paper saying that once I did alright on the subject... ugh.... but still... despite loving the conversations on skype, they're REALLY getting the better of me at the moment... My body just can't seem to take constant 4am bed-times... it's just doing me in quite frankly... And look, I just realised I've written an entire paragraph within parentheses... aww well...) it, it's not really helping me out to be honest...
The main problem perhaps is the whole idea of change?... I don't know... Maybe it's something normal that everybody else is going through; but I've recently hit the realisation that over the course of just about a couple of weeks, EVERYTHING will be different... Priorities in my life will be much more focused on my personal future rather than just my usual "well if I make it through today, then I'll think about tommorrow" attitude... It's just not as simple as that... I'm nearly 17 now, and that means looking for a car, which my God is a nightmare, and I really can't be asked to get into that here, but y'know? Things are different... There are plenty of people too who I feel really quite close to at the minute, which I'm having to come to terms with never seeing again... Now that's hard... And when you add that to the stress of the 15 or so exams which I've had over the last month or so, with the last one this Monday, I'm WAY beyond boiling point right now... I have to say it's genuinely getting the better of me...
Now I didn't want this post to be about personal issues really; just wanted to talk about my holiday coming up; but y'know the point I'm making is that I think that maybe I really just need a time-out, and a break from life in general... So from that point, I guess it'll be good for me; but just knowing that I'm missing out on so much back here by being away saddens me a little bit...
Pain in the butt really that they still haven't invented proper human cloning yet, so I can be both places at once... But that's just another thing I'm gonna have to create in the future...
So yeah; this time next week, I will have already left...
I hope you're ready America...
Because I'm not too sure I am really...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Wow... now that's weird... Live forever just came up on my iPod... stopped me in my typing for a little bit there... But not only is it probably one of Oasis' best songs, and one of my personal favourites, but it just about sums up exactly how I'm feeling right about now better than I could've put into words.... So yeah; if you're really that bothered listen to that, and perhaps you'll understand... hmm... that's really genuinely weird how that song just decided to come on...
Aaaaaaanywhoozles.... That's not the point... The point is that I have just a week left here until I'm shooting out stateside, and considering all the exam period, and these rediculously late night skype calls, which despite me absolutely loving (the skype that is, as apposed to the exams... I could really do without the exams... I mean honestly; employers should just take my natural genius for granted, and employ me rather than ordering the issue of some pathetic little peice of paper saying that once I did alright on the subject... ugh.... but still... despite loving the conversations on skype, they're REALLY getting the better of me at the moment... My body just can't seem to take constant 4am bed-times... it's just doing me in quite frankly... And look, I just realised I've written an entire paragraph within parentheses... aww well...) it, it's not really helping me out to be honest...
The main problem perhaps is the whole idea of change?... I don't know... Maybe it's something normal that everybody else is going through; but I've recently hit the realisation that over the course of just about a couple of weeks, EVERYTHING will be different... Priorities in my life will be much more focused on my personal future rather than just my usual "well if I make it through today, then I'll think about tommorrow" attitude... It's just not as simple as that... I'm nearly 17 now, and that means looking for a car, which my God is a nightmare, and I really can't be asked to get into that here, but y'know? Things are different... There are plenty of people too who I feel really quite close to at the minute, which I'm having to come to terms with never seeing again... Now that's hard... And when you add that to the stress of the 15 or so exams which I've had over the last month or so, with the last one this Monday, I'm WAY beyond boiling point right now... I have to say it's genuinely getting the better of me...
Now I didn't want this post to be about personal issues really; just wanted to talk about my holiday coming up; but y'know the point I'm making is that I think that maybe I really just need a time-out, and a break from life in general... So from that point, I guess it'll be good for me; but just knowing that I'm missing out on so much back here by being away saddens me a little bit...
Pain in the butt really that they still haven't invented proper human cloning yet, so I can be both places at once... But that's just another thing I'm gonna have to create in the future...
So yeah; this time next week, I will have already left...
I hope you're ready America...
Because I'm not too sure I am really...
Thanks,
Kempo.
Monday 4 April 2011
Ahh The Beauty Of Innovation...
Well hello there.... I guess this is the first time that I have used one of these bloggities, and if all goes swimmingly to plan, I may be using this quite a bit over the coming months....
Well the basic plan is that at the end of June, I shall be departing the homely land of Britain, to take a five hour long flight (or at least I think it's 5 hours... I can't be too sure, because I didn't book it - the glories of parents.... They pay for stuff, and you just sit there and reap in the freebies...) over to the land of obese, and the home of the Lookin. Yes of course I'm talking about America. Good ol' 'murrica, where if you walk the streets with just a 42 calibre pistol, you'll be laughed at for not owning a 52 calibre; and if you own a 52 calibre, you'll be laughed at for not ever having a girlfriend. The place where time itself comes to torment those with diabetic problems, before publicly teabagging the relics of Al Gore's Presidential campaign.
This is indeed the country which I hope to be reporting my findings on daily, as I - Kempo; Fuhrer of Fortay, and future Overlord of Planet Earth; shall be giving you - my perhaps loving, perhaps loathing, perhaps incredibly indecisive audience, a day by day entrance to my life.
Good luck, and good riddens.
Thanks,
Kempo.
Well the basic plan is that at the end of June, I shall be departing the homely land of Britain, to take a five hour long flight (or at least I think it's 5 hours... I can't be too sure, because I didn't book it - the glories of parents.... They pay for stuff, and you just sit there and reap in the freebies...) over to the land of obese, and the home of the Lookin. Yes of course I'm talking about America. Good ol' 'murrica, where if you walk the streets with just a 42 calibre pistol, you'll be laughed at for not owning a 52 calibre; and if you own a 52 calibre, you'll be laughed at for not ever having a girlfriend. The place where time itself comes to torment those with diabetic problems, before publicly teabagging the relics of Al Gore's Presidential campaign.
This is indeed the country which I hope to be reporting my findings on daily, as I - Kempo; Fuhrer of Fortay, and future Overlord of Planet Earth; shall be giving you - my perhaps loving, perhaps loathing, perhaps incredibly indecisive audience, a day by day entrance to my life.
Good luck, and good riddens.
Thanks,
Kempo.
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