CityHangover Guestblog, Vol III

As promised, D'Brickashawn delivers the 3rd installment in the CityHangover Guestblog series. I've known dude since his first days at The U, where he alleges he single-handledly bankrolled my 2000-2001 late night pizza habit. And this whole time, I thought he was simply repaying me for being the best R.A. ever. (By the way, read that wiki on the term Resident Advisor. Evidently I was a "goody-goody" and a "killjoy"? What happened?)

Rules of Engagement

The following are a set of rules or guidelines for a group of ugly Americans (i.e. CJB, The Jesus, Bangin’ and I) to raise hell, insult multiple cultures, and bring a once great empire to its knees. I suggest that you read my fellow companions’ blogs first to help gain a better understanding.

1.) Brush up on Chappelle Show quotes, as they will come in handy when insulting the many birds you will encounter in the discos and pubs.

2.) Tipping is frowned upon. This is understandable due to the fact that I had to sell my left kidney to some limey for a pint of Carlsberg.

3.) Having the most horrible haircut will actually get you laid, at least at the dog tracks. This dude, had an incredibly smokin’ bird accompanying him. I mean on a scale of PBR to Heineken she was an ice-cold Bud light. That’s impressive in my books.

4.) When hot Indian bitches shut you down at a club reminiscent of a scene out of Bad Boys, make sure the Jesus is there with the following Rick James quote, “You’re cold as icccceee,” and then proceed to sing, “Coooold blooded.” I have never seen a more perplexed look on a girl’s face. Wait, yes I have. The Jesus drunk and frustrated at not receiving any attention from girls at Inferno’s, invented a sort of Thunderclap/Indian dancing move to try and seduce girls from 30 feet away. It was the most horrifying thing I had ever seen; yet I could not look away.

5.) Ethanol may account for 50-60% of total energy intake in alcoholics. It is thus possible that ethanol consumption displaces many normal nutrients, resulting in malnutrition and subsequent organ damage and predisposition towards cancer. That’s science. And these f’ing Brits wanted to do a pub-crawl on an empty stomach. So feed yourself prior to the pub-crawl and then watch the Brit die a slow death.

6.) A ‘strawpedo’ is chugging a Smirnoff Ice with a straw in it, which allows you to ingest the entire thing in approximately 3 seconds. Yes, this sounds like a girly drink, but say that after downing two in less than 30 seconds.

7.) You are allowed to sleep in pubs, clubs, buses, and bus stations. Just ask cjb, because he managed to sleep in all the aforementioned places in just one weekend. Just make sure you don’t miss your stop otherwise you will be coming home when the sun comes up.

8.) While visiting monuments and the British museum… well there are no rules. We witnessed British rug rats desecrating a WWII monument despite their parents standing right there reading the “keep off” signs posted everywhere. Even though it was commemorating the Canadians, it still deserves respect. In addition, the Jesus has taken pictures of little British girls (sounds pedophile-like but I assure you he is not) climbing over Egyptian sculptures that were dated 5,000 years old. The kicker is that their parents were helping them on the statues!

9.) If you ever have the opportunity to attend a birthday party of one of cjb’s co-workers, do it. Especially if she is over 30. And when she begins to start bawling over the fact that she thinks her friends are forming rival gangs, do not console her. Instead, do as I did and mock her by singing “It’s My Party” by Lesley Gore. That may sound callous, but at least I didn’t spend the night with her and steal her cell phone and not say goodbye in the morning. Ahem, Jesus.

10.) When Bangin’ needs to get some bread he’s got the keys to the bakery. That’s a fact. If you are ever spittin’ game to a bird like my boy Straightbangin’, tell CJB to refrain from giving benign looks and/or thumbs-up signs to you or the girl. This directly resulted in the girl saying to Bangin’, “Is this a bet?” It was ghastly to watch Bangin’ feverishly scramble to try and salvage the situation.

11.) If you are a heterosexual male with curly hair, make sure to straighten your locks otherwise you will attract lots of gay men. Normally this is complimentary since all the gay men that I know are very particular, however, when the gay waiter asks if he can personally show you where the ‘toilet’ is, it’s not so flattering.

12.) The last rule. CJB, though inappropriate at times, is an amazing host. He willingly sacrificed his reputation socially and professionally to make sure we had a ridiculous time. And that we did.

Trip of the Century: A Survival Story

I know I've been a long time gone, but blog updates come a distant second to wreaking havoc on Londontown with my yahoo friends from The Best University Ever.

Rather than provide a full play-by-play of our ridiculous (I'm using the term carefully, mind you) weekend, I've attempted to organize some of the trip highlights for your reading pleasure. I've categorized the debauchery in remembrance of our trip to the dog races Friday night, which saw "Oklahoma Pat" deliver over $20 on the equivalent of a $4 bet. The Dogs also taught us a bit about child rearing and bad haircuts (see pics above). If you can't tell, that little girl is wearing a harness (As I didn't want to spill my beer, I couldn't get a good pic of her running around with the tether), and that guy is wearing the worst haircut ever.

But I digress. And the award goes to...

	Show	Place	Win
"Eating is Cheating" - Building Pub Crawl Bridges	Talking your way into a free Budweiser football (i.e. soccer) t-shirt, and insisting on wearing it all afternoon.	Exhanging digits to meet up with a dude who spent time in, of all places, Cheybogan, Michigan. Dude proceeding to shout "Cheybogan!" repeatedly as high-fives abound at pub #2.	Finding out that two guys sharing dirty cell phone videos in pub #5 (#6? Who knows.) are actually in SOCA, the UK's "James Bond" equivalent of the FBI. Subsequently discovering that said guys know all of the words to "Ain't No Fun". Belting out this new pub anthem.
"Some Racialism Isht" - Learning About Other Cultures	Learning that most of the artifacts from the Parthenon in the British Museum were "controversially" stolen acquired by one Lord Elgin. Coronating the term "Elgined" as the new "Parikhed", which was incidentally the new "screwed over".	Causing a near melee in the Mexico wing of the museum by (jokingly) referring to it as a "bankrupt culture" in earshot of a Mexican-American woman.	Witnessing the desecration of ancient sculptures at the hands of unruly riff-raff kids. If you didn't know, parents, your kids really shouldn't be climbing on two thousand year old museum artifacts.
"It's Your Party..." - Birthday Etiquette	Calling ahead to birthday girl to ensure 4 pints are waiting at the bar upon your arrival.	Creating unnecessary birthday conflict while trying to cozy up with a fellow visitor, eliciting tearful (yet admittedly priceless) "But it's my birthday!" claims.	Stealing birthday girl's phone to facilitate obtaining directions for your walk of shame back to the apartment.
"Bombed Out and Depleted" - Stumbling Home at Night	Night 1: Falling asleep on the night bus (yes, again), waking up at the last stop, and deciding to take a nap on a nearby bench before venturing back. Proclaiming "it's getting light outside!" upon returning home.	Night 2: Sprinting to catch the night bus, and somehow managing to take a picture for a nearby group of girls before boarding.	Night 3: Supplicating desperately to be given access to the Gloucester Road Burger King. Abandoning the effort after multiple futile attempts, and instead loading up on a hodge podge of sandwiches, chips, and candy bars at the Tesco Express.

Stay tuned for Dishan's upcoming Guestblog entry, which I expect will play an integral role in connecting the remaining dots from the weekend. And just when you thought this blog couldn't get any hotter, I'm bringing the parents in this weekend and expecting another Guestblog for the ages. You heard it here first.

Most Improved Player?

As I extolled the virtues of The Best University Ever yesterday, I neglected to recognize key developments at one of our fellow Big Ten institutions across the lake.

Last weekend, our favorite Northwestern sorority girl staked her claim as the heir apparent to the CityHangover throne, earning her first ever second M.I.P.

Congrats on this crowning achievement! May you continue to do me proud.

Hail to the Victors

Get in the De Lorean, folks. CityHangover is going home! Well, sort of.

Late last week The Best University Ever (coincidentally my alma mater) saw its Board of Regents approve a $226 million plan to renovate a stadium that I've had the benefit of visiting 28 times. Although many football purists argued that the U should continue to deliver a gameday experience more fitting for its "rival" up north (e.g. long lines at concessions, a 1:10,000 toilet to fan ratio, etc.), I fully support the renovation plan.

The most controversial component seems to be the addition of luxury boxes on both the east and west sidelines. To be honest (and when aren't I?), I think this "controversy" reeks of ignorance. I've been to my fair share of away games at institutions that would willingly bear Tom Cruise's demon spawn to be considered the "Leaders and Best", and have been disappointed to find these competing facilities to be far superior to our own. To those against the full stadium renovation plan, I say go to Eugene, or Madison, and tell me you don't believe Michigan needs to make some changes. Hell, go to South Bend (admittedly, I never thought I'd write that) even!

I've had a long day of hateration at work, so check out Schembechler Hall for more insight into why these yahoos are so far off base. For my part, I'd like to remind us alumni (and most of you are) why our kids, and their kids, are going to want to go to Michigan. Even if we have to pay out of state, or worse yet, international tuition:

First rate Michigan Difference video here:


More well known (and kick ass) spot here

Go Blue!

An Hour of My Life I'll Never Get Back

I stumbled across the finals of the Eurovision Song Contest tonight on TV, and wound up watching it in awe for nearly an hour. Are you kidding me? Essentially, the contest pits 24 countries (at least for the finals, I can't imagine how many preliminary rounds exist) against each other to determine who has the best, uh, song. The countries are tied by their national broadcasters' membership in the European Broadcasting Union, but otherwise have little in common (the UK performance was followed by that of the Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia, for example).

Partly due to the format, each performance goes one step further in reinforcing all of your bad stereotypes about European pop music. The singers have 3 minutes to deliver a memorable, moving performance, and viewers across the world have only 10 minutes at the end to cast votes for their favorites. Because of this, the songs are delivered with more drama and cheese than you could ever imagine. Even for Europe. A typical performance includes no less than 15 people dancing frenetically on stage, 3 costume changes (in 3 minutes, people), 2 back-up choirs for the climactic key change toward the end, and at least 1 person emerging from the stage during the bridge (Russia had a ballerina rise out of a grand piano and spew rose petals, and Moldova had a scantily clad woman breaking through the stage backdrop). And you think I'm kidding. The only outlier appears to be Finland, which sent a band to the finals dressed as a cross between klingons and extras from Michael Jackson's "Thriller" video. They sang a song called "Hard Rock Hallelujah". Awesome.

In addition to the painful songs, each country airs a 1-2 minute promotional clip to lure tourists to their homeland prior to performing. The funny thing is, each of these clips is exactly the same. Evidently tourists are only interested in the following: sweeping aerial views of historic cities, sun-drenched beaches, drinking fine wine at a luxurious restaurants, and watching children play innocently in the street. I didn't even know some of these countries had beaches. And you know that kids should not be playing in the street in many of these locales. Then again, I couldn't point out Moldova on a map if my life depended on it. But that song was tiiiiiiight!

All of this comedy reminded me of when a friend of mine in college returned from studying abroad in Denmark. She came back with a penchant for blaring this one Danish song - "Fly on the Wings of Love" (or "Smuk som et Stjerneskud" for you Danes). I remember her mentioning that the song won some type of competition in Denmark. After some strategic googling, I discovered that the song actually won the 2000 Eurovision contest. And we both know I found that isht on YouTube for you. The two old guys are the Olsen Brothers (Jorgen and Niels). I particularly like the key change at the end. Listen to that crowd go wild.

Update: Evidently the klingons wound up winning the whole thing last night. The band is actually called Lordi, and you can check out their winning performance here. Love it.

Another Update: The Russians are pissed.

The New Pornographers

Tonight I caught The New Pornographers show in Camden. I picked up the band's most recent album a few months ago after reading about them in an assortment of "best of" lists, and quickly got hooked on their indie pop sound. Did I just say that?

Anyway, the show was great. The venue, Koko (formerly Camden Palace), was a Victorian theatre in the 1800s and seems to have kept most of its unique charm despite being refurbished as a hipster mecca. I also appreciated that the show was entirely general admission, although we hung out in one of the balconies for most of the night due to our recent excommunication from the 18-24 MTV demographic. I'll admit, I sort of missed being down with the sweaty youngsters. But all was not lost in the "adults" area. I did come across a Seth Cohen doppelganger. I wanted to get his picture, but he left with his teenage girlfriend before I had the chance. (Which begs the question - when did Seth Cohen look-alikes get girlfriends?)

The band ended the night with one of my favorite songs, "Sing Me Spanish Techno" (check out their music video here), and I made it back in my neighborhood just in time to grab a doner kebab from my new late night hangout.

Not bad for a Tuesday night.

Go See This Movie

I can imagine I lost some of you after last week's M:I:III confession, but I've got another movie recommendation for those still in attendance. Anyone? Anyone?

The movie is Brick, which I mentioned a while back in a post. At its core it's a detective movie with a film noir feel. It's difficult to explain, really (or at least seems so now that I'm sitting here trying to do so). If I were to tell you, and I am, that it's set at a high school and stars the kid from Third Rock From the Sun, you'd probably write it off. I hated that show too. But this movie is completely worth it.

Brick plays differently than I expected, being both tense and funny at the same time. It's self-consciously cool (which admittedly merits a few eye rolls along the way) and completely unique. Per my background research, this is writer/director Rian Johnson's first go at a feature film, which made me jealous given that I crunch numbers in excel while people like him edit full-length features on their Powerbooks. Ah, aging is such sweet sorrow.

Check out the trailer here, and if you play around on the website you can find an interview with Rian Johnson where he describes how he approached the film. He also mentions that it took 6 years to get Brick made, which is why I really need to give up on this screenwriting pipe dream of mine.

Let me know what you think if you see it.

Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

We kicked off our company softball league this week with a team practice. I know. I didn't really anticipate playing the great American pastime (or at least a variation best suited to the elderly) while in London either. But I guess working for an American company abroad has its unique merits?

I was a bit skeptical of the outing when, after being prompted to explain the rules of the game, I was asked if the batter has to run the bases if s/he hits the ball (there were others, including something about the ball bouncing before it crosses the plate). That's what I get for playing with a bunch of cricket loving members of the Commonwealth. I don't think it helped when I began to explain the bases and fielding positions with "First base is kissing, second base is above the waist", etc. Despite these challenges, I had a ridiculously good time. And no one knew that I pretty much sucked since many had never really played before. I highly encourage playing American sports abroad when in need of a self-esteem boost.

The weather was amazing, Hyde Park is as good as, if not better than Central Park, and we even had enough Lefty gloves for all of us (4 southpaws out of about 12 people - represent!). And because we're in England, there were more than enough tallboys to go around. Interestingly, after a few tallboys I started to feel sort of Justin Gatlin-esque when running the bases. I recommend it.

Unfortunately, things turned for the worse on my walk home. When I pulled my key chain out of my backpack there was no key to be found, and I wound up sleeping on a friend's couch when the yahoos who own my property didn't respond to the emergency pager. Glad I wasn't dying, people. I couldn't stay angry for long though, since when I put my shoes on the next morning I noticed my apartment key looped into my laces. I'm still not sure how I missed that. Then again, sometimes even I am surprised by my own stupidity.

Week(end) in Review

Welcome to this week's review of what may or may not have happened to me over the weekend. To add an aura of intrigue to the debauchery, I've decided to take a quiz bowl approach this time around. By answering just a few easy questions, you can marvel at how similar (or you hope, how different) we are! Answer honestly, because at the end of the day, you're really only fooling yourself. Think Bayside vs. Valley, with a date with Kelly Kapowski on the line.

Here goes. Oh, and keep track of your answers for a complimentary personality assessment at the end.

1.) You've begun to establish friendships with like-minded colleagues from work, and are invited to join one of their birthday (i.e. bar) parties. Upon arriving, you meet a lot of new, cool people and start to have a great time. However, one gent seems inept when it comes to remembering your name, repeatedly calling you "Carl". You...

A.) Say nothing. You are new, after all, and wouldn't want to rock the boat.
B.) Politely correct him, and try using your multi-syllable work name to make it easier for him to hear you in the crowded bar.
C.) Note that he is drinking rose wine (seriously), and take to calling him "White Zin". Continue doing so all night, even after he has self consciously traded in said wine for beer. Overhear him refer to you as an "American Prick" at the end of the night.

2.) The party begins to get rowdy, and you start flirting (er, being obnoxious) with some ladies at a nearby table. However, your accent proves a formidable handicap, as one girl, visibly irritated, stops the proverbial record to ask you where you're from. You...

A.) Say you're from the United States, but that you feel particularly privileged to be spending time in London.
B.) Tell her you're from Michigan, and hold up your hand to provide a visual aide in hopes that she is familiar with the area.
C.) Say you're from Canada. When she excitedly responds "me too!", you articulate further (Manitoba, of course) and lead the table in a rousing rendition of 'O Canada despite knowing few of the words. The bartender asks you to shut the eff up. Twice.

3.) After much sleeping, water drinking, and groaning the following day, you're hit with an indescribable urge to see Tom Cruise Scientology vehicle Mission Impossible III. You...

A.) Realize that Tom Cruise, Scientology, and impossible missions don't align with your values, and instead read a book.
B.) Determine that your urge is being driven from the desire to make fun of Tom Cruise, Scientology, and impossible missions. Scour the internet in search of the endangered South Park Scientology episode (short clip here) wherein "Tom Cruise and John Travolta will not come out of the closet". (Note: R. Kelly makes a cameo as well.)
C.) Pony up $20 to see MI:III. Find yourself laughing giddily at the amazing action sequences, and almost choked up during a scene where Tom Cruise is faced with the prospect of watching his wife die. Enjoy nearly the entire thing. Stay through the closing credits to hear the new Kanye West MI:III song. Listen to 3-4 bars. Run out of the theatre spewing vomit and feeling repentant for your worldly sins.

4.) Feeling a need for fresh air, you take advantage of the weekend weather and walk around a bit in Hyde Park. Eventually, you and a friend find yourselves resting on a park bench in a peaceful area of the park, adjacent to a small pond. You...

A.) Rest in silence for 15 minutes while enjoying the unlikely British sunshine.
B.) Talk quietly about, well, the unlikely British sunshine.
C.) Engage each other in a heated debate over the feasibility of swans and ducks having sex, where all of the pigeons go when they die, and why idiots insist on feeding those flying rats. Annoy those around you, including innocent young couple feeding flying rats. (Seriously, though. Wouldn't you think you would see more dead pigeons?)

5.) Anticipating a tough work week ahead, you plan to spend some time catching up on work emails and project planning on Sunday night. However, a friend calls to invite you to watch the Pistons in game 1 of their conference semifinal. You...

A.) Stick to the plan, and dig into monotonous work tasks.
B.) Watch the game on T.V. in your apartment while multi-tasking with your work laptop.
C.) Head to the sports bar to watch the Pistons put a beatdown on Lebron's Cleveland Cavaliers. Order rounds each time Ben Wallace or Tayshaun block a shot. Return home around midnight.

Alright. That's enough for this week. How did you do?

If you answered mostly "A": Join the Nice Police immediately. The Academy needs you, and the rest of the world may eat you alive.

If you answered mostly "B": You've probably got your isht together. Life management tips are welcomed.

If you answered mostly "C": You and I must be friends. Sorry, man.

CNN Breaking...News?

I caught this on CNN today. Essentially, dude has conducted a study suggesting that the British are more healthy than Americans, even though we spend more than double per capita on health care. Interesting. But check out the video for some hidden treasures. My favorites:

-The CNN interviewer struggling to decide what to call people from England. She settles on "Britains". Hilarious.
-The 30 second obesity discussion, wherein they show a gazillion clips of really fat people's asses at what appears to be a McDonalds. U.S.A.!
-The general condescension of the (British) scientist. He gets some good jibes in (we all carry guns, we're rich bastards, etc.) and suggests that a nationwide gut check is in order.

Is it me, or has CNN really embraced this whole "non-news" as news phenomenon?

And I Thought the French Liked Us...

There are a few things that have become blatantly clear in the last few years when it comes to U.S. international relations with Europe. The first is that Britain Labour prime minister Tony Blair is at the unfortunate risk of leaving a legacy as George Bush's "poodle" in his final days, and the second is that the French sip haterade when it comes to anything even slightly American. But who knew hateration could be this fun?

Read recently in The Guardian:

The French president, Jacques Chirac, yesterday unveiled what he hopes will be his great legacy to France's struggle against the global dominance of the US: a series of technological projects including a European search engine to rival Google.

Mr Chirac, who walked out of an EU summit last month when a fellow Frenchman committed the grave offence of speaking English, styles himself as the defender of France in the globalised world.

Uh, yeah. A perfect way to change our perception of French commerce. Just duplicate what may be the most innovative organization in the world. That should be easy.

"My biggest turn on is a girl with a tatt."

I wouldn't normally post about this, but it's a City Hangover recovery day, so...

One of the great things about Blogger is the randoms that it sends to your blog. For those of you not into this isht, it can go one of two ways: First, when you update your blog, a ticker on the blogger website will link to your blog until it is displaced by the next updated blog in the blogosphere. Second, you'll notice a "Next Blog" link at the top of most Blogger hosted sites. This will link you to a random Blogger, um, blog. Whew. I've never used the term "blog" that much before. What a loser.

Anyway, so this results in probably half of my site traffic on days I make updates (which is around never these days, but I digress). I know this because I track every visitor with eagle eyes in hopes that Scarlett Johansson has finally read the emails I've been sending her. Nope, just Mom again. Scarlett, I want that table tennis lesson you promised me. You know, the one where you said you'd wear that white dress from Match Point? You can't ignore me forever, dear Scarlett. No one can. Insert evil laughter.

Well, I had a really good random today. The guy's site is called Guy Goode. I didn't spend too much time on his site, but instead went straight to his profile. It is classic. And if his picture is real (please, God), I want to be his friend. An excerpt for you:

"...I have a couple of tatts. One on my thigh is the tasmanian devil breaking a baseball bat over his knee. I don't like baseball, but I like the intensity, you know? My biggest turn on is a girl with a tatt. I like dolphin tatts the best."

Dolphin tatts? Now that I think of it, we may be competing for the same girls...

Week(end) in Review

I've had a relatively fair and balanced weekend. And for reasons unbeknownst to me (the term "bank holiday" shrouds the historical origin in secrecy), I've got today off to boot. Suckas!

Even yours truly gets run down by city life every now and then, so this weekend I pulled a bunch of my fellow expat colleagues together for a day trip to the English coast. After a 2 hour train ride through the countryside (of course we nearly missed the train, since that's how I travel these days), we found ourselves perched at the edge of the famous White Cliffs of Dover. After picking up some sustenance at the local farmers' market we embarked on a 10 mile hike along the the coast to a town called Deal. (Lest you be impressed - or surprised - and confuse us with true outdoorsmen, I'll clarify that we city slickers chose a relatively easy path which allowed us to make pub stops in local villages along the way.) The scenery was beautiful, and the weather managed to hold up for nearly the entire trip. An early Christmas miracle! Unfortunately (or fortunately, perhaps) we just missed our train back to London, and wound up spending an extra hour at a pub playing songs on an old jukebox. For some reason I find myself really digging R.E.M.'s "Man on the Moon" these days.

I also saw Inside Man this weekend, which I highly recommend. (Has this movie been out in the U.S. forever?) It's a Spike Lee Joint, and like some of his other recent films (25th Hour comes to mind) manages to come off as both poignant and funny in the way he integrates themes of race and privilege into the storyline. As usual, New York City also plays a key role in things. Denzel Washington, Clive Owen, and even Jodie Foster put in great performances. And they better have, since the theatre I saw this movie at charges over 12 pounds a pop for tickets. Yes, I paid about $22 to see Clive Owen orchestrate an intricate bank heist for a few hours. Well, actually, I paid about $26 if you include my $4 Pepsi. Is that irony?

Because I'm cultured like that, (and I was sort of told I was going...and it was free) I also made time to stop in to the Tate Britain this weekend to check out their Gothic Nightmares exhibit. Henry Fuseli's "The Nightmare" is the exhibit's focal point, which I actually found quite interesting. You'd be surprised by the type of people that show up for a gothic exhibit, too. I saw a lot of black eyeliner and long trench coats. In true form, we were in and out of there in 1 hour - my key museum requirement.

I know what you're thinking. This week(end) in review seems to be missing something. An unwelcome respite from stories about excessive partying, perhaps? Don't worry. I'm just saving up some energy for this month's aptly titled (how, I don't know) "Trip of the Century". The Jesus, Straight Bangin', and even Dishan (get a website, man) are going to descend upon London for Memorial Day weekend. Let the chaos begin!