Lollapalooza Part 1

First off, let me start by saying yes, it has been WAY too long since I've done one of these. I never hooked up the internet at my apt and that kinda stifles my ability to do... online things. And since when I'm at work, I'm working, this is the first in almost a year.
Since my last post, not a whole lot has changed. I did come home from India, I got over some old stuff, moved on to some new exciting stuff, and am pretty effing content right now. Especially since I've been on vacation for a couple of days to come to Chicago and go to Lollapalooza - the three day music festival featuring Black Sabbath, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jack White, The Black Keys, and a crap ton of other people that you probably won't know unless you heard them.
Today was day one. We woke up this morning to a billion young, douchey, way too hippie people walking down the streets of downtown Chicago. I can say that because I wasn't wearing blue jean shorts or tight jeans and a tank top. And white sunglasses. And we all know how I feel about white sunglasses. They should be outlawed, thrown into the river, never to be heard of again. But I digress...
The temperature is effing awesome up here. It's like spring time in Dallas. The first show we caught was Haley Reinhart. She had an awesome voice but I have never heard of one song before. Which probably made it better. The further in the day it got, the more I realized... I've only seen 4 black people. There was 5, but was escorted out due to unrelated circumstances (I hope). Beer was of course, expensive and so was the food. I didn't eat, nor drink much so that was good. With the buckets of sweat I extruded, I may even lose weight this weekend. I was sweating more than a fat boy doing strenuous work.... like standing up.
These fools were getting WILD out there. I never seen drugs being used so openly! There were folks doing bumps, smoking weed like it was Marlboro Lights. There was even a little mexican dude walking through the crowd, holding little bags of weed in the air with the intent to distribute. I said, ain't this some shit? Apparently, Lolloapalooza don't follow normal American laws. It turns into Neverland and everything goes. (Badoom chic?)
And the white people dancing... oh  man... White people IS funny. Especially with the drugs, these people really thought they were doing something. I think I saw ONE chick that looked like she knew how to move those skinny white hips, but the others just look like they were praying to the rain gods. I thought the clouds were about to gather and the it was going to rain gumdrops and joints.
And the clothes! It was a mix of the 60's and 80's and then, like, 2140. The hippie dresses and the shorts that come up above the belly button, like they should read "Bugle Boy" on the back pocket. And then the sunglasses that were right out of the movie Cocktails. And then the club kids listening to the dubstep djs at Lollapalooza... oh geez... I feel sorry for our children.
The last show was Black Sabbath. Ozzie was AMAZING... for about an hour. Then after that, I think he got tired because the only thing I recognized coming out of his mouth was "THANK YOU" after every song. He should just keep singing because between songs he kept saying something, and I swear everyone in the audience turned to look at each other and ask what the eff he was saying.
"Refmla ehtlam jalu, Chicago!"
"Wha.... What did he say?...... WOOO HOOO! GO OZZIE!"
At one point, I think he told everyone to jump but no one understood so they just started waving their hands in the air.

After 10 hours of sweating, loud music, beer, and very unhealthy food, we were beat. Took a shower and headed to the bar. Ha. You know me... Now it's time for day 2 to start and we are getting ready to do it all over again - sunburn and all. My face is redder than my a fat boy doing something strenuous... like stand up.
Oh wait, I said that already. Apparently, I REALLY look like a fat boy doing strenuous work.
Damnit.
Dunkin Donuts, here we come!

Until next time...

The Music Blog

If you haven't noticed, I get REALLY bored here. Since it's Sunday and I don't do jack on Sunday (Who's Jack?.... Badoom chic) I decided to write a little something about music. Mostly, what I'd like to do is share a couple of tunes with you that mean a little something to me. Like-to-hear-it-here-it-go....

"Here In My Room", Incubus
You know gosh darn well there is going to be several Incubus songs on this list so get over it.
This song is about love on a broken hearted, nearly douche bag level. About a guy who has given up on the feeling of love and has decided to make it an verb in the physical sense. It's no longer a feeling, it is an action. " For those of you that know the bitterness side of love - those of you that have been hurt, that have felt that dagger in your heart one too many times, this song will speak to you like no other. "If only the lights would dim a little/I'm weary of eyes upon my scars". That shits deep. The last verse even contains a little connotation about what exactly he's talking about. Take a listen and see if you pick up on that. The only problem I have with it is that it promotes those kind of acts that my moral beliefs won't allow me to - using sex as a form of pleasure rather than something that's supposed to have a background. Call me a pussy all you want but there has to be something there for me. But as far as the reasoning behind turning that corner from giving up on that four letter word and doing it maliciously to someone else isn't necessarily crossed here so I'm going with it. Party on, Brandon Boyd.

"Everybody Hurts", R.E.M.
This is a pretty old song, but you all know I'm still living in the 90's. Before I paid attention to this song's lyrics, I used to think this was a very depressing song. I thought it was about pain and hanging onto it. It wasn't until years later that I realized this about staying up. It's about not feeling alone. Most of you know where I come from with those kind of stories - that feeling of being alone is pretty strong. Being in a crowded room and feeling like not one of them understands you is one of the worst feelings in the world. What this song says is, "don't throw your hand". Why, because everybody hurts. Everyone knows that feeling. It may not be that same feeling and it may not come from the same place, but damnit... EVERYBODY hurts. So when you think you've had too much of this life... hang on.

"It Don't Matter to the Sun", Garth Brooks
As a song off of the Life of Chris Gaines album, I can see where this is automatically tagged as a stupid song. But if you listen to this song, it's about knowing that outside of you, the world keeps turning, the moon still shines, the sun still rises and it doesn't matter to the rest of them... but it matters to me.

"Lose Control", Missy Elliott
I gotta switch it up a little for my girl, Missy. There is not another female musician that has the kind of beats like Missy got. Everyone of her songs makes me wanna get up and shake my ass like a salt shaker. The reason I love this song so much is that it is so up beat that I am even typing faster right now, listening to it. Table dancing like a champ. You can't HELP but move to this shit. "Music make you lose control". That it do. Which is why I'm writing a blog about this shit - COUNT IT!
I also just realized that if I'm writing about hip hop, I start talking hip hop. "That it do", really? Ha. Wait until I talk about country music. I'll start writing with a Texas accent...

"She Is His Only Need", Wynonna Judd
This is just a sweet song. It reminds me a lot of my friend Andrew and a relationship he had back in the day. When my man, Andrew loves, he LOVES. Which is something that I really envy about him - because he's in it when he's in it. Nothing else matters. During this particular relationship, it was one of the first that meant something. And when I heard this song when this was starting for him, that immediately popped into my head and it fit. And knowing him and knowing where he was and hearing this song... it had such a connection to me that I have had this song in my song bank since. To me, this song spells out love - "Cause without her, where would he be/See it's not for him/she is his only need". That shit's deep.

"The First Day of My Life", Bright Eyes
Another song about love, it's the sweetest most simple love song I know. It's about that one day that you wake up and realize that everything is sweeter; that the sun is brighter, the trees are greener, that the grass is softer - all because you are in love with this one person and they love you back. Throwing all caution to a heartbreak, "I'd rather be working for a paycheck/than waiting to win the lottery", it's about just loving and being loved in return. If you've ever been in love, you know that as soon as that moment happens, as soon as you realize that it's real... man, there is nothing else. "As if I just woke up".

"They Looked Like Strong Hands", Bayside
Everyone puts on a front at some point. "They Looked So Strong" is just about that - it's about them being what is expected of them. "This isn't who I am/from confidence to self-doubt/in 60 seconds/storming stages and stereos". From the outside looking in, it always looks better. It's the trying to look from the inside out and thinking it's the same is the issue. That self-conscious being that lives in all of us is a lot stronger than we'd like to admit. And if we think that THAT person is the one everyone is seeing, eff a bunch of that! It's like a lemon pretending to be a grapefruit - no matter how close skin color could be, nigga you're still a little guy. "I look so strong/when the weight of all the world/don't take it's toll". Dig it.

"Let's Go Crazy", Prince
It is definitely party time. This was written about Y2K, but could absolutely be used for every other world-ending phenomenon since 1996 - INCLUDING 2012. Promoting getting "crazy" since we're all gonna die anyway, this song lights a fire under you to throw caution to the wind and even though shit happens, well, let's go crazy. It's all ending anyway. Why spend time upset about some shit when we could spend the last days "going crazy" and having fun. And the ending guitar solo.... makes a nigga wanna throw up the two finger hand.

"Falling Apart", Travis Muscatell
"Maybe it's I'm crazy/maybe it's because I can't honestly tell you what I want". About love strained because of inner demons - this song is kind of the counter part to the "First Day of My Life". It's about the self loathing part of feeling that kind of love. Shit sometimes ends because of inner turmoil. No, it's not fair, but the truth hurts. What this song does is allows it to be expressed outside instead of in. And NOT just because he's one of my best friends, his voice portrays that with such feeling that it's almost too much to bare. listen to the live version of him (every Monday at Dino's in NRH - ahem) and it'll water your eyes for sure. Just saying.

There are about a billion other songs that are in queue right now to discuss but rather than explain my entire catalog to you, I'll let it be for now. But best believe there will be more of these. You don't have to look these songs up. Just suggestions out of my favorites.

What am I kidding, yes you do. You will be tested.

Until next time...

Birthdays Are Awesome

Yea, I know - it's been awhile. My apt back home doesn't have internet and I'd get shot if I try to do this at work so you take what you can get, damnit. Get off me.

I'm just kidding, please keep reading.

So my birthday was pretty rockin'. We'll start from the beginning:
The flight home was a little rough but in a good way. When I got to the airport in Mumbai, I was really excited to start celebrating. Technically, at that time, it was already my birthday here so I wanted to party hard. I couldn't get through security fast enough. Which point #1, I'm NEVER leaving here on a Friday ever again. Eff that. Too many damn people. Everywhere. Anyway, while I was in line, a little kid was on my ASS the entire time. Her AND her mama. I'm like, "Back back, back back - give me 50 feet". They wouldn't get off me - straight trippin - so I started swaying back and forth so that if they didn't get off me, they'd get hit by my backpack. Worked for awhile... until the little girl got too close and I knocked her down. I'm just saying - not my fault. Get off me.
Finally got through and hit up the Lufthansa Lounge where I sat on Facebook for 3 hours and drank wine. Partly because the beer here sucks, partly because I wanted to go to sleep on the first leg so I didn't have to the second. Mission accomplished.
Got to the Frankfurt lounge got myself cleaned up. I learned from my first trip that if I didn't pack a shirt in my carry on, I'd smell like feet and onion the whole flight back to the US. Once I got on the plane, though... all hell broke lose. Hey... it's my birthday. Started automatically with the predeparture champagne, and then Jack and Seven after that.... all 11 hours on the way home. Until they ran out and then rum and coke. Yes, I went a little overboard. But it's my 30th birthday and I was alone. Don't judge me. It got so bad that once they brought around the duty free catalog, I went crazy and bought a carton of cigarettes and some cologne I've never even heard of - JUST because I didn't want to be "that guy" and buy just a carton of cigarettes.
Had a grand ol' time that day - dinner with B, and then we went to see a Mustang America reunion show where my man, Travis, asked his wonderful girlfriend, Amanda, to be his lobster. Real sweet.
And real hammered. If you didn't get the picture of me on the way home, I'm sure you can ask the guy next to you because apparently, Bryan sent it to everyone and their mama.

The next weekend was our joined birthday party - Bryan, Troy and I had loads of fun! So many people!!! Great to see some folks I hadn't seen in awhile and a lot of fun hanging with everyone at Mac's. And let's just paybacks a bitch because I DO have Bryan's picture of his ride home. Just saying.

The next week was work. And lots of it. Didn't do much but hang with cool people and have fun while I could.

Yesterday, the team here went for a day trip to Elephanta Island - or we tried to, anyway. We left the hotel in a driver from the hotel that was going to spend the entire day with us, wherever we wanted to go. All we had to do was tell him.... but apparently we had to tell him in Hindi because this fool did NOT speak English that well. And really didn't have that good of a sense of direction either. I mean, I don't know, but as a driver who is driving around 4 Americans, that MAY should be a requirement. We got to the port where they told us that because of the "cyclone", they weren't running boats to the island. Cyclone? Really? What, are we in Kansas? So we decide to walk around the Gateway of India anyway and noticed some folks by the port. And after the people up front say, "it's too dangerous to go", this fool down by the port was like, "y'all niggas want a ride" because he was OBVIOUSLY running his boat. And we got on.
Yea. Smart ones.
Now, it is not to say I don't have a sense of adventure - I think I do. But when they aren't running boats up front and this dude is just taking money and putting you on a boat, I may get a little weary - call me stupid. We get on and go up top to the deck where the water is so choppy, I everyone of us almost fell 9 times getting from one end to the other. We sit for awhile and the "captain", who coincidentally is wearing a scarf on his head - looked like a dark ass pirate - comes up and we take off. I'd like to point out that if this had been America, we'd have had 4 people make announcements and signs EVERYWHERE about how not to stand too close to the edge, to hold on to the railings while walking, and blah blah blah. But nope. Not here. Here, they were like, "y'all niggas ready to go"? And we took off. Pretty cool trip - started raining and felt awesome. Went to the Hard Rock Cafe for lunch and had a burger. It so happened to be Mexican Fiesta celebration. Go figure with me and Stephen there. Ha.

I have 3 weeks left here on my "last" trip. I say "last" because I will be coming back, I just don't know when. But this is my last scheduled trip anyway. I'm going to make the most of it and try not to lose my mind waiting to get home. It's been a pretty trying week at work. So bad that last night, I decided that when I got home, I'm going to quit my job and open a bar. I've been wanting to do that forever so may as well start now, right?!
We also know that I'm a pathological liar so we'll see how far this goes. It'd be effing nice, though. Kind of a dream job.... We'll see.

Until next time...

Birthday Suit and Thai

So this past weekend, my colleagues and I decided to take a little trip to Bangkok, Thailand. We figured we were already this far into Asia, why not take that leap to the other side of the Bay and hit up another Asian city. Just to get away from all the work stuff and whatnot. Let's just say.... success.
Let me first of all just say that I am REALLY glad I was traveling with white folks. During the days proceeding and even the morning of, Josh and Scott were talking about all the research they had done and looking up the area and finding stuff for us to do and stuff. Research? Really? I was just hopping on a plane and seeing where the plane took me. I hadn't done NONE of that shit. That's why they make movies like The Hangover and Hostile about niggas like me. Just saying.
If you know me and "vacation" time, when I break... fool, I BREAK! I start drinking as soon as the day starts, don't wear underwear, I starting eating cheese and shit - nigga, I'm WILD! So as soon as I got all ready and packed, I headed downstairs to the hotel bar and waited for the other two to get ready. Only had one.... I'm not sure if I'm ready for my boss to see the alcoholic in me yet.
The flight only took 4 hours and the seats came equipped with screens so that we could play games and watch movies and whatnot. Flight even came with a meal service and free drinks. Already! Food wasn't too bad but the wine was better. Watched two movies in between getting up from my seat every time the Indian with the bladder of a 3 year old had to get up. At one point, he tried to get over me without me getting up by stepping over me... hold up, dude. That' ain't happening. Not trying to have a grown ass man straddling me on a plane just so he can urinate. I'll stand, thanks.
Once we find our way through the airport, trying to get into the right lines and whatnot, we finally make it out to the line of cabs waiting and I thought I was in The Fast and the Furious Part 6: Bangkok Boogie. EVERYONE of the cabs were brightly painted, neon running lights, and techno music blaring. We found one and he was concerned with how many bags we had... because his truck had his speaker system in it and it wasn't going to fit too many bags. Really, dude? I can't fit my luggage 'cause you got 2 carpeted speaker boxes back there and your amp? Nice. On the way to the hotel, he busted out his tv screen so that we could, apparently, watch his favorite Thai soap opera. At one point, he started laughing so we started laughing at him and I swear that fool thought we understood what happened. All I understood is that something happened and they started playing the cartoon "wha-wha" when something bad happens.
The hotel was REAL bad ass. All the up until we got to the front desk and noticed that the dude at reception had a Wayne's World 2 eye... Where you didn't want to stare, but couldn't help trying to find out what the eff he was looking at and with which eye... swaying back and forth to see which one followed you.... damn.
I'm going to hell.
Our first night on the time was AWESOME! Started out with dinner with Scott and the Josh and I hit up the night life. Bar after bar after bar after go-go bar. Sat at one bar and, in true Thai fashion, a girl comes up to talk to Buckley. She ends up hanging out with us all night. We'll call her the "tour guide". Showing us the ins and outs of the area and which were the "lady boys" and which weren't. SO glad she was there for that one... That shit can be really confusing. That's all I say about that...
After the bars closed, she said there was a club still open around the block. So. In true drunk fashion, J Buck and I hit up a club at 2am. Dancing and shit? I thought I was 18 again. Except afterward when I tried to walk out and my freaking legs were sore. Oh yea. You're 30...
Oh. And white people are funny. You know what means. Just saying.
There was a diner right outside the club so we stopped in for food. Hello, early morning hamburger. Some of the tour guide's friends joined us for a bit. I don't know if it was just a bad accent or my drunkeness, or the fact that it was 4:30am, but I have NO idea what one of them was saying. I think her name was "Puta". And when Josh and I started laughing, no one understood why. All I know is that she ate all my damn fries and kept saying, "I hungy! I hungy".
Ok lady. Whatever you say.
Quotes of the night:
"One of those street vendors had crabs."
"Thai hoes really help your self esteem"
Saturday, we went shopping during the day and hit up the same spot at night. Josh, again, got hit up by some random STUPID whore. We had to leave there before she pulled his penis out there at the bar and went to town. After that, went to one of the coolest shows in Thailand. It was weird seeing the people that were there, too. Mostly American. Including this one dude with a t-shirt on, shorts pulled up to his chin, and some of the raddest kicks ever! This fool was REAL confused. We took way too many shots, bought ping pong balls to throw at the girls on stage (really degrading, and I'm ashamed of myself for doing it... but DAMN it was fun), and then someone tried to be a jackass and my glasses got knocked off my face and broke. But after all the shit WE did, if that's all that happened... ha. That shit was tight...
Sunday was spent shopping again. At the mall, though, we ran across a restaurant called the Sunrise Taco - Authentic Mexican Food.
Really?
So of course we ate there and of course this authentic mexican wasn't having it. Did enjoy the margarita, though. Rice was terrible, tortillas were old, and the salsa tasted like Pace. Pft.
We sadly made our way to the airport around 6pm via train. We drug ass trying to get through security, and even more so boarding the plane. SUCH a fun city we didn't want to leave.
The plane ride back to Mumbai was crap from the beginning. I had another aisle seat and the people walking by KEPT hitting me. There was even this one dude who was trying to let someone by and kept shoving his fat belly in my face. I mean BAD! I felt a little violated. I think he was trying to get fresh. I got hit with the food cart twice. The dude behind me made me pull my seat up because he couldn't eat. (Fatty McGee didn't need to eat anyway). And the dude in front of me had the most RIDICULOUS reclining chair that I thought that nigga was in my lap. Saving grace was that I was sitting next to two English chicks that were pretty cool. We played Who Wants to be A Millionaire for most of the trip.... they were WAY smarter than I... me.... I.... whatever.

Back in Mumbai for another week and then I'll be home this Saturday for my birthday (hint, hint). Going to see Travis and Zuriel's show with special guest, Alan Shields. "Getting the band back together", as T would put it. Ha. It'll be good times. Having the big bday party with Bryan and Troy next weekend at Mac's. You should DEFINITELY hit that up. It's time to turn 30 in style. I may even take a shot or two. We'll see.

Until next time....

Wax On, Wax Off

Well hello there, folks! It's been a minute.

I spent the past two weeks at home doing the home things and it was awesome. I'm currently sitting in bed, trying to decide what's worse, waxing on... or waxing off....

I left here EARLY, believe it or not. I was sitting in a meeting Thursday afternoon when the bossman mentioned that he usually flies out early FRIDAY morning, as opposed to Saturday morning. Which got me thinking.... did that ticket say 8 or 9? So during the meeting, I look up the email I received with the flight information on it and ask myself... What's today? Holy crap! Apparently, I can't read time vs date and realize I leave Mumbai in about 8 hours! Yay and holy shit all at the same time! I haven't packed jack and I'm so anxious to leave, I KNOW I'm going to forget something. I rush to my room and pack the entire thing in about 45 minutes while drinking the bottle of vodka I had bought the weekend before. Not too shabby, but too small of a bottle. Dug into the bottle of whiskey and realized why that shit was so cheap. Tasted like dirty tea water. Had A glass and gave the rest to J Buck as a gift.

The flight to Frankfort was non-existent. Slept the ENTIRE way. Even had a middle seat but didn't care much because the only time I got up was to gather my things and head to the terminal. Got the the Lounge and noticed something. What the eff was that awful smell??? And then I realized.... that awful smell was coming from me. I smelt like I had run a 5k in my button up, swam in the Trinity River, and then ate dirty towels. I wouldn't even sit next to me if I had to. Thank the Lord someone advised me to put a shirt in my carry-on that I DIDN'T take out in India as a precaution for such an occasion. Changed into a t-shirt that was a tad too small but DIDN'T care because it smelled like detergent rather than lake water.

Got home at 2:30pm and looked like poop. My long ass hair was all curled up like a baby turd, my pants were a wrinkled mess, my eyes looked like I hadn't slept in 6 weeks (probably cause I HADN'T) but the grin on my face took the place off all of that. Spent the night with B and Nathan and Travis and Amanda, Sherlocks style. Already....

Saturday was spent at a bday party for the famous Christy Beaver a.k.a Coco on the Radio. Had a blast and WAY too much to drink. Ended the night with a Christy/Roger emotional talk as always. So awesome.

Most of the rest of the week was spent moving into, what I'm told, is an adult apartment. Bigger, more expensive, and WAY nicer than any of my others. I actually have adult art on the wall (I mean pictures, not naked people) and matching furniture and shit. It's wild. I DO, however, have my music room that looks tight as hell. All it needs now are instruments. (Hint hint... bday coming soon. Just saying).

Spent the first part of the week moving me in and the rest moving Bryan in. Which made for an AWESOME week of workout but still look an Ethiopian after a bowl of rice. Stupid stomach issues....

Went to Austin the following weekend to celebrate my boy's bday with Andrew. Andrew and I hadn't done that in so long, it was pretty bad ass to catch up and actually talk on the way there. Stopped for some beef jerky and got pretty effing hammered while we were down there. Started early, ended late, and that's all that mattered. I did drink enough to eat pizza that night. And I'm STILL paying for it now. No lie. This ulcerative proctitis ain't no joke. Good times either way. The way back was a lot quieter than the way down there. Could have been because of Mr Hangover, but hey... whatever. Good times.

Had a nice break from the Indian life. Got to eat some stuff I know what it consists of, got to hang out with some awesome people, sing some karaoke, drive my car, and hang out with some awesome people. Did I say that already?

Arrived back in Mumbai early Monday morning. Slept just a tad and headed to the new work schedule: 2pm to 12am. Eeek... less dranking time for THIS nigga. That's ok. May be good for me. Or I could get really pissed at people and cut someone.

Eh. We'll see.

To get a little serious on that ass....

I've been thinking lately about how stupid I can be. One of those, I know what I'm doing wrong and I keep doing it. Why? Because it feels good for about 10 minutes and then I feel like running into a patch of cacti naked with a boner. Which brings the question: wax on? Or wax off?

Waxing on:

Doing what I've been preaching for the past almost 10 years of my life - do whatever makes you happy because no one else will. Only YOU know what it is that makes you happy; that makes you smile; that makes you wanna sing show tunes in the privacy of your own room. So I'd say do it! Do whatever peels your potato; whatever floats your turd; whatever yanks your chain; whatever fries your bologna. Because ultimately, we don't have a lot of time here and you may as well be smiling while you're here. The only problem with that is, when you do whatever makes YOU happy, you have to realize the consequences. Whatever makes YOU happy doesn't always make other people happy. It doesn't always coincide with other people's feelings or emotions. And that can sometime be dangerous and hurtful and malicious. And who wants that kind of karma? It's like eating a bowl of beans before a road trip: sure it is delicious and filling but what comes next? You're in a car with 4 people and no one can breathe for 3 hours because SOMEONE had to eat the musical fruit. Not fair. But so what? You had fun...

So what next? Wax off....

Do what makes you happy for 10 minutes? Or realize that the 10 minutes of happiness you're feeling now doesn't even COMPARE to the days of anger and frustration you'll feel afterward? Realizing that your actions now will only be reflected in the things that are to come later - THAT'S the ticket. Knowing that whatever you decide to do now may suck so bad, it feels like eating pizza with an intestinal problem (HELLO!), but when its over, you still feel good enough to keep on trucking. And maybe... just maybe... the next time it comes around, you'll be just a little bit stronger to move on. Because you know what, that long lasting, tastes so good you'll slap your mama, blissful, beautiful peace you feel when you DON'T do it anymore is WAY better than those 10 minutes. Those 10 minutes are like a fat girl eating a Mini M&M-you know a lot more would be great, but its going to take a LOT of Minis to equal the feeling you feel when you can walk up on a curb and not start sweating. You know what I'm saying?

Wax on all you want to, baby... but waxing off? That's for me, nigga.

Until next time....

I Still Hate Kids

Oh man. Last weekend here before I get to home. And what a good one.

Friday after work, we went to Hard Rock Cafe - Mumbai, by way of TGIFridays. Ha. Margarita after margarita, joke after joke, chicken wing after chicken wing, it was pretty fun. By the time we got to Hard Rock, I was just a little bit tipsy. So we did it up right and ordered a Jack and seven and a shot of some sort. Tasted like I Vicks, but hey - I had a cold anyway. The music was FANTASTIC and the entertainment wasn't far behind. At one point, they gathered every employee in the place - bartenders, waiters, chefs, and door guys - and had them get up on the wall and do the YMCA. Now... I know this isn't America, but it makes me wonder if they really think we still do that there. The last time I've seen anyone do the YMCA, I was hiding a boner in my Jordache jeans, watching my fellow junior high students dance around. (Whom am I kidding - I had to look up how to even spell Jordache. My shit was cheaper than... well, a pair of Jordache jeans in 2011) When we left there, the lot of us, except for our driver, was pretty effing hammered. So much so that a certain accompanying party, who shall remain nameless, unprofessionally got off on the wrong floor. But that's neither here nor there...

Saturday, J Buck and I went back to R City Mall where I continued to search for shoes that met my needs. If you know me, I'm a ridiculously picky person - a lot of the times, to my own demise. Buying shoes just adds to this. I have to have a certain style, shape, color, and design. And if I can't find it, I'll continue to wear the same shoes I've been wearing for the past 19 years. Which, if you've seen my shoes now, you know I'm not kidding. The ones I wear daily now I didn't even buy - I got them from Marco and I effing love them. I have been eyeing them since HE bought them so when he asked if I wanted them, I pretty much yanked them out of his hand and put them on immediately. It didn't help that when I asked about some shoes that I almost wanted, the sales guy had no idea what the heck I was asking. I asked if they had these certain shoes in any other color, he said, "just black". And I don't want black shoes because I already HAVE black shoes. I wanted some other color. So I put them back. And he says, "How about these?". I said, "No, I don't want black". And he picks up another pair and says, "maybe these?" I said, "No, I don't really want black". After he picked up every black pair of shoes on the wall, I ended up just walking away before I slapped him with the pair of black shoes I WAS ALREADY WEARING. Anyway, I ended up buying more socks and no shoes. Eh.
I also bought wall art for my soon to be music room in my new apartment. It's going to be effing bad ass. Just wish they weren't so freaking expensive. I don't like spending money on crap like that. AND, as before, if you've seen my crappy furniture, you know it's true. Either hand-me-down or bought cheaply, I don't spend money on material goods. I spend my money on things that mean something. Like alcohol. Speaking of, I bought a bottle of vodka called White Mischief. Ha. Awesome.
Hey. It makes memories. Don't judge me.
We went to eat at the Rainforest again - where I realized that the waitstaff does NOT speak English. Again, they thought I spoke Hindi and I ended up just getting whatever drink they THOUGHT I wanted instead of what I ordered. I'm not sure if I've EVER gotten anything I've ordered since I've been here. I just end up agreeing to whatever they want to give me and roll with it. Which reminds me... I'm hungry....

Sunday, we got pretty bored so we went to hang out at Chili's. Where I have come to realize that I still hate kids.
First of all, the waiter comes up and says, "Hi, mine name is Chris".
Naw, nigga. It's not. I promise.
As we were sitting there enjoying another drink that didn't satisfy my needs, they started setting up for a party. With balloons. Which meant, little rugrats were about to invade the one place I could feel like I was at home. As the small little shits started piling it, the balloons started bursting. Probably by mistake at first, but damnit... that mess was on purpose towards the end. Now, you can't be sending me to a foreign country, that JUST had a terrorist attack a couple of months before, pop some motherf'ing balloons behind me, and not expect me to freak out a little bit. And to add to it, it was by little ankle biting, curtain climbers that kept running around the restaurant like they were at grandma's house. I swear I was about to trip one of them.
Disclaimer: if you are reading this and you have kids, let me clarify. I like my friend's kids. One, because they are my friend's kids. Two, because I can go home. And three, because I can go home. They're usually cute - I don't hang out with ugly people - and well behaved. But once I get around some little fools that ain't got no manners, I want to slap their mamas.
Also at this Chili's, I notice a table across from us that has sent their food back 3 times. All because the bitch was complaining about EVERYTHING and the dude had to deal with it. I could tell that he had a problem with her complaining as well because they started arguing once "Chris" left. To the point where after they finally got something sufficient enough to eat, she sat there pouting while he ate it. This is why I hate bitches. I wanted to shake her until her stupid frown fell off and I could step on it. Felt sorry for the guy. But... he's still with her so. Whateva, nigga.

Today is the 4th of July. And if you're wondering, no. There was no fireworks show here in Mumbai. Unless you count the fire that started from my air conditioner. Burn marks on the wall and all. Hole in the curtains. Awesome. All I have to be thankful for is the power probably went out and it stopped the fire. Ha. Find that silver lining somewhere.

I'll be home on Saturday!! Celebrating Christy's bday in Ft Worth Saturday night and having a typical Sunday with B before I move into my new apt on Monday and Tuesday. I am retarded excited about all of that. I'm gonna be one hungry, smelly, smiling son of a bitch around 3pm on Saturday. HOLLA!!

Until next time....

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Went down to dinner tonight by myself to enjoy some delicious (or lack there of) dinner food.
Tonight was apparently bar food night. They had wings, fish sticks, and a bunch of other shit I can't pronounce nor will I taste.

I started out with the cream of chicken soup - which was more like water with "chicken" pieces soup. It had an alright flavor, but should have been in cardboard box labeled "chicken stock" than in a bowl. Of COURSE, I had the chicken wings. Chicken wings are my favorite food in the world. If chicken wings approached me to do a commercial for them, I wouldn't even charge. "I'd do it for free, chicken!" (Thanks DC). Except... these chicken wings were Indian chicken wings and tasted like every other Indian dish I've eaten in the past 5 weeks. I had 2 and stopped. And a tear dropped my eye...
They also had fish sticks. Which, from what I remember as a kid, were a step above Fisherman's Best. Next to the fish sticks was something they called, "Fish Mexican". I was confused. I thought mexican fish WAS the fish sticks. "Fish Mexican"? They must have known I was eating there tonight. Awful sweet of them. It was pieces of "fish", wish tomato sauce and some peppers and such. Not bad, but I'm not sure what kind of "fish" it was. I think it was more, "hey there's some stuff at the bottom of the box of fish sticks so lets add something to it and call it mexican". Ain't that a...
Racists.
So there I was, enjoying my "delicious" dinner when some dude sits at the table next to me. He's obviously likes the Indian food a lot more than I do because dude was smacking away like he was 7 years old eating some Apple Jacks. Fool was smacking so hard, I thought he was doing the naughty under the table. I was afraid to look. Of course I did.
Wait.
I'll move one.

After finishing my one and only plate, I was sitting enjoying my beer and my burnt-to-a-crisp esophagus, when I noticed that each and every waiter on staff had one eyebrow. I wonder if that's a requirement on the application. Like, I'm pretty sure they found out how to get to Sesame Street, these Bert and Ernie looking motherf'ers. It was wild.

And then, someone's phone rang. And I'm not talking a regular cell phone ring, it was the EXACT ring from the T-Mobile commercial back in the day.
And then another. Same ring tone.
And then another. Same ring tone, EXCEPT the acoustic version. Apparently, VodafoneIndia doesn't allow ringtone downloads.

And if one more fool tries to speak Hindi to me, I'm going to speak pig latin back. Two can play that game. I would give anything for someone to try and speak spanish to me right now. That I can handle.

Now I'm back in my room, answering emails and browsing that Facebook mess. Geez, this place is boring. It's like watching Bob Ross paint happy trees, but less exciting. I'd rather be fishing... in the toilet. As a matter of fact....

Until next time...