06.30.2006
THE FINAL COUNTDOWN PT 3 //
Right now movers are packing the totality of my life in China. It's almost like the last days of school when you are cleaning out your locker and trying to work up the courage to get that hot chick who was light years out of your league to toss you a bone and write HAGS in your year book. Except that there is no hot chick and I'm paying them $5000+ to pack crap like candles and cotton balls.

So anyhow I'm typing out this entry sitting on a trash can as the movers make snide remarks about my junk in Chinese. Well I've spent a good deal of this blog bashing stuff that I can't stand about this country so I'd thought I'd be a little uplifting like a 7th Heaven Christmas special: I am going to so miss not having to drive at all this past year. And it's not just because gas costs more than wine. I've always loathed driving since about 1 hour after the novelty of getting my license at 17 wore off.

My soul fans into an inferno of carnal rage when I have to wait behind a woman fumbling for her checkbook to pay for a bottle of Evian at HEB. Can you imagine my road rage? I like having a driver pick me up at my apartment and then drop me off right in front of where I'm going. I love riding as cabbies weave through pedestrians and oncoming traffic as if I'm about to give birth in the back seat. And I love that I don't have to park. You know how in the checkout line you're staring at every other line like you have OCD to see if you got in the quickest one? I'm sort of like that with parking. I'm constantly looking in other lanes wondering if I should roll the dice and pass up my current spot for one 5 cars closer. Of course I end up spending an extra 5 minutes circling to save 10 seconds of walking.



06.28.2006
THE FINAL COUNTDOWN PT 2 //
I got back from Shang Hai tonight. The hotel I stayed at was on China's version of Times Square. So of course there were tons of foreigners and of course there were tons of locals trying to take advantage of them. Between my white friend and me doing the Japanese tourist thing with my over-sized camera, they could smell the fresh meat and dollar signs. A cop actually said to us, "You're American so you must have lots of money." After about 10,000 "Hello Rolex! Hello sports shoes! Hello watches!" I decided to start answering them "Hello DVD!" The funniest and most common thing we got though was "Hello sir! You want massage…sex?"

Just like NYC, you get to see a bunch of weird stuff in the big city. I was surprised to be waiting at an intersection next to a guy wearing only boxers and sandals. But today he was one upped when I walked by an old man in the heart of the shopping district wearing a collared short sleeve shirt and whitie tighties. But anyhow, here is another thing I will not miss about China: the restaurants not having napkins, water or bathrooms. I guess people don't care about washing their hands. It's no shock that they all insist that yellow mist choking the sky is only fog.
> For some reason I can't get enough of this video.



06.25.2006
THE FINAL COUNTDOWN //
A couple months ago I wrote that I was returning to China for a second tour of duty. But I unexpectedly received a fantastic job offer back in Austin, so in a week this native son will be coming home. For my numbered days here I've been re-visiting my old haunts and stomping grounds to bid my final farewells on the year that was. Until I actually sell my computer in a few days (thus putting this self-critically acclaimed blog on hiatus), I'm going to try and look back on things I'll miss about this country, and things I'll be happy to show my rear end to. Hopefully it won't be a re-hash of things I've covered this past year.

But first off, as I was walking off some of the face fulls of sashimi and filet mignon I gorged on at a teppenyaki restaurant, I realized how annoying cell phone users in China are. Whether they are on a crowded street or in a quiet building, they have an irresistible urge to talk as loud as possible. It's as if they are thinking, "This conversation is so freaking awesome that you all really need to be in on this." But really it's more like that friend who gets a whiff of something putrid and says, "Here, you gotta smell this. It's horrible." But I guess our American equivalent is that pretentious guy in an elevator who is talking into a hands free set that looks like he is having a conversation with himself. In my mind I'm always giving that dude a ninja kick to his liver. Well I'm off to Shang Hai tomorrow. What's the over/under on how many fake $1 silk Armani ties I buy? 8,000? I blame ebay.



06.23.2006
GETTING MY STROKES //
The first time I played golf in China 4 years ago was transcendent. Part of the green fees include a personal female caddy. They hand you the appropriate clubs and your drink, hold an umbrella to shade you from the sun, and chase after your miss hit balls. I had mine so deep in a forest after my first tee shot I thought she was going to get eaten by a bear. She climbed in streams and even dug around a bulldozer that I shanked a ball under. She totally earned her $2.50 tip.

I played again a few days ago at a gorgeous course surrounded by lakes and mountains. The service wasn't as good though and she kept lining up my putts wrong. But she did talk trash to my partner and even openly laughed at a couple of his shots, so she completely redeemed herself. When you hit a good shot all of them start clapping and giving you compliments. It was like having a private gallery that followed you around all day. I totally see the appeal of having servants and kiss asses.

In the last week I've played soccer for the first time in 4 years and golf for the first time in 2. I guess I'm having somewhat of a sports renaissance. Unfortunately I'm trying to push the red line with a body that's more a jalopy that only has 1 gear: old man. I feel like I'm a battered car bouncing down the road while leaving a wake of parts falling off: muffler, transmission, hub caps, my manhood.



06.19.2006
ALL PAIN AND NO GAIN //
Saturday all the guys here decided to go play soccer. To say that I'm in bad shape would be inaccurate. I'm about as spry as a puppy with only 3 legs. The last time I did anything remotely aerobic was an 8 hour bout with diarrhea back in September. All of us were pretty excited to play especially with the World Cup in full swing. We came out with a lot of energy and hustle, which lasted about 5-7 minutes. By then the guy who had organized the whole deal was doing the Asian squat at mid-field. For the next 2 hours I craddled my water bottle around like it was a baby while I played.It was all pretty pathetic. I tried a header which turned into a facer.

As little effort as it looked like I showed, my thighs are horribly sore. It's so bad that I labor more than normal to take a dump. At this point I have a new found respect for moms. I'm struggling pooping after chasing a soccer ball for a few hours. I can't imagine pooping while pushing a soccer ball out of me for a few hours. While we are on the topic of pain, in the World Cup I watched a player dive in front of a shot on goal and he took the ball right in his goody bag. The camera stayed focused and zoomed in while he was clutching his Charlie Browns in agony. Now that's great tv.



06.15.2006
WIN OR GO HOME //
This morning I got to watch the fourth quarter of the Heat/Mavs game. I haven't had the chance to watch an NBA game in a long time and I don't know what shocked me more: how easy Dwayne Wade could get to the basket or that during time outs strippers hit center court and shamelessly jiggled in front of cameras to whore for a few seconds of air time. Seriously, how far away are we from having half time lap dances for front row season ticket holders? And why is Shaq's wife suddenly the go-to camera cut-to chick in the stands? In the Eva Longoria vacuum is Shaq's wife the best thing we can show? Wouldn't it be immensely more entertaining if we could get a via satellite shot of a tied up Stan Van Gundy in the mystery location where Pat Riley has him locked away?

Between Shaq's free throw bricks they can zoom to Stan roaring with laughter as he spews cheetos crumbs interrupted by him getting electrocuted with a cattle prod. Going into game 3, Shaq was 2-16 at the line but he hit 2 clutch free throws while Dirk clanked the game tying one. If only the Diggler could've bottled Hasselhoff's tears.



06.14.2006
THE CUP OF LIFE //
World Cup mania started this week. I've always thought it was weird that the entire planet is berserk about soccer and Americans are more passionate that Taylor Hicks won American Idol. I mean it's played a lot in America and there are so many bumper sticker soccer moms they could apply for civil rights. And yet we are rabid about football which the rest of the world collectively ignores.

I wonder if I didn't bleed red, white and blue or was in 2 World Cup fantasy leagues or if I wasn't so starved for live sports if I'd be staying up until 2 am watching Mexico vs Iran (and rooting for Iran). Maybe there's not enough scoring. Maybe it's because no one dies in the US during games. The Ron Artest melee seemed to make the NBA relevant again. Wouldn't it be exciting to go to a game where potential homicides hinged on the outcome of the game? At least that would make for spectacular compellevision.

In 1994 a Columbian player was shot to death in his home town when he accidentally scored an own goal against the US. Imagine someone shooting Brett Favre for throwing another game killing 99 yard TD interception or strangling Adam Morrison for sporting that ridiculous pornstache. Who wouldn't watch that?



06.11.2006
BUGGED //
I have a mosquito problem. That may be understating it. You remember that scene from The Mummy where those black scarab bugs wash over some poor soul and consume their flesh? That's the kind of mosquito problem I have. I woke up this morning to check the butcher's bill and of the many bites I found one on my lip. It looks like a bulbous sore. I feel like Matt Leinart 24 hours after making out with Paris. I have no idea how they are getting in. All of my windows and doors are sealed and yet these full grown f'ers the size of small dragon flies are legion. I'm not even safe taking a dump. Every night I look like that fat kid on the internet doing light saber forms as I'm spastically waving around my electric bug zapper. My roommate has taken to wearing bug spray inside. Since I can't stop them, my counter stroke is to pump my body full of ramen, chips, beers and high cholesterol foods to poison them when they leech me. It's brilliant.



06.10.2006
NOTORIOUS D.O.M. //
I received a rather disturbing email the other day. My dad went to Baltimore for his 30 year college reunion. He told me that 60 of his classmates were dead and lot of them didn't look too good. Here's the disconcerting part: most of our extended family lives in the DC area and he and my mom went to visit them. He writes, "Angie (my cousin, his niece) is a fox. She is extremely attractive. One of those high schoolers with the whole package." <shudder>

I told my dad that he was one hole punch away from being a full fledged member of the creepy old man club. I'm twice the age of my cousin and haven't seen her in a decade. I probably couldn't pick her out of a line up. The last thing I remember of her was trying to teach a 1st grader how to read. I hardly know her and I probably feel closer to the old woman who scavenges my garbage for aluminum cans.

At this point I don't know if I ever want to see Angie again. Let's say for example all of your friends said your sister was hot. Because she's blood and you've known her your whole life you'd never see her in that light. But what about someone who even though they are a relative is practically a stranger? Now my dad isn't a pervert. Well not any more than me or every hot blooded dude. He was basically making a guy comment about a chick he didn't know either that technically was his niece. What scares me is that if I ever saw my cousin again that I too would find her slamming and then I'd be subsequently deported to Arkansas. <shudder>



06.05.2006
I WANT MY HDTV //
When I came to China I left behind my 54" HDTV. Especially now that possibly the greatest NBA playoffs in my lifetime is going on, it's absolutely killing me. I imagine following it on the internet as I am is like listening to my married friends telling me about how awesome sex is. Switching from HD to waiting 15 minutes to download a 15 second clip on a 1x1.5" window on ESPN.com is giving me heroin-type withdraw.

High def tv has got to be one of the most significant upgrades the world has seen in the last 15 years. It's like going from dial up to high speed. Like going from Shannen Doherty to Tiffany Amber-Thiessen. Sadly (or maybe rightfully) it ranks as the #2 thing I'm looking most forward to about returning to the States. And that's higher on my list than understanding the language being spoken to me.

For any single working males out there, there is absolutely no plausible reason for you not owning an HDTV. Once you make the switch I guarentee you'll do the same "what the hell was I thinking?" that Tiger Woods did with his pre-billion dollars chunky girlfriend after upgrading to his Swedish model. If you are married and want to convince your wife of the purchase do not show her a side by side comparison with a sports event. I've had girls pick the low-def tv as superior. They just have no frame of reference. Instead show her how she can actually see Misha Barton's roots or count the laces on Katharine McPhee's shoes. No thanks needed. I'm just trying to make the world a better place.



06.03.2006
ROCKET MAN //
Roger Clemens has just signed with the Astros once again for a contract in the ballpark of $3.7 million A MONTH. With 6 starts a month that's $660K+ a game, or $300K+ a hour, or $100K+ an inning or ~$35K an out. So he can pretty much throw a split finger to Greg Maddux who then hits a weak dribbler to first. Cha-ching, that's more money than I see in a year that he pocketed in less than 4 seconds of work. Clemens is freaking Elvis in the baseball world. Boston fans consider him the anti-Christ for leaving years ago, but would've gladly bent over to have signed him so the same absurd money. Am I envious? It would be like saying Maria Sharapova is a nice looking broad when she's freaking volcanic. Hells yeah I am. I would gnaw my right arm off to walk in his cleats. And speaking of a Rocket Man...



06.01.2006
LOST IMITATING LIFE //
Maybe it was just me, but I got really annoyed when Claire planted a smooch on Charlie in the season finale. But when I actually thought about it, it made complete sense. On an evolutionary survival of the fittest stand point concerning human mating, the female's most valuable asset is her looks. The reason being she needs to snag a man who has a high capacity for resource acquisition, which are males' greatest asset (this ability is represented by money, fame, and power). So it's built into the female DNA to be vain (and to a lesser extent manipulative) so she can get the most capable man. But the purpose isn't necessarily for herself but rather her children or future children to ensure their safety and survival. This is why the wedding dowry and more recently why the engagement ring is so crucial. They represent a taste of things to come (but I like to call it a down payment).

For men, beauty in the form of waist to hip ratio and facial symmetry predicts her ability to bear healthy offspring to propagate his DNA and preserve his immortality. So in Claire's case, she rightfully kicked Charlie to the curb when she thought he was a danger to her baby and then shacked up with Locke. But when Charlie gave her the vaccine for her baby, which no one else could, she went from ice queen to hot and bothered faster than Hurley stuffing his face with goldfish crackers. I now have a greater appreciation for the scientific consistency in Lost. The short of this and all of my conclusions is as of course, women are insane.