Thursday, January 08, 2004
Farewell to a Friend
Round 2: Shanghai
Well the day I hoped would never come did. Our patriarch and guide John P. has left us for greener pastures up in Shanghai and being the friend I am, unlike some who’ll remain nameless (Alf,) I lent my services (and by “services” I mean this sweet ass, chiseled body) to help him move which meant I would have to once again spend an extended amount of time in the cesspool of depravity that is Shanghai. Well this time it wasn’t that bad thanks to a certain film by the title of, Bad Boys 2. This movie rules! Ten times better than the first, though I recommend you watch the first installment because it will make you appreciate the sequel that much more. The chemistry between Martin Lawrence and Will Smith ignites the screen and draws you in to a world where unparalleled action is the soup du jour. The three days I spent up there could have been 72 hours of relentless demonic sodomy by some creature that ejaculates nothing but hornets and holly leaves and I would not have minded in the least. Why? Because Bad Boys 2 is that sweet!
Settling John in was quite easy. In fact I did little more than carry some bags and move some furniture. The main thing I had to deal with was John’s incessant crying. He was balling like I just put down his pet dog while beating his sugar gliders to death with his favorite kitten. He wasn’t too much in the mood for partying and I understood why: Because he’s an enormous pussy.
In truth John was fine and rather upbeat. He didn’t shed a tear and he has no reason to. His apartment is great even if one of the elevators is possessed by the devil (think Stephen King’s Christine except it’s an elevator not a car.) His new co-workers are wonderful, and he’s near his girlfriend who’s a great woman. And most importantly, all of us in Hangzhou are merely a 25 RMB train ride away from wearing out our welcome with him. It truly is a non-event and I’m saying that for his sake because I’m going to greatly miss him even though he is only 2 hours away and I don’t want him to feel guilty for the fact that he deserted us for cash.
There’s a saying that goes something like, “God doesn’t close a door without opening a window.” And it is a completely suitable parable to sum up John’s departure. It is true that he is no longer here to help and guide us. We no longer have him as a translator we can rely on due to his more than competent grasp of Mandarin Chinese, and most distressingly, we no longer have that 6 foot 5 inch gangly skyscraper around drunkenly throwing punches at whoever comes within his swarthy range (he’s a punchy drunk.) I’m mean who’s gonna beat the shit out of me now? I still got Carl to pee on me but he punches like a girl! (For the record I don’t have a urine fetish, nor have I ever been peed on.) What I’m trying to say is, it is going to be different without John here, and it will be tougher but the upside (the window God opened) is that John’s new apartment is only two minutes away from a Tex-Mex restaurant called Taco Popo and this place is the bizzomb (a fine establishment with delicious cuisine.) I ate there everyday. Tex-Mex burgers, chicken tacos, and soft shell beef tacos overflowing with CHEESE!!! Oh Great Zombie Jesus (Futurama) how I miss cheese! So we lose John and all his linguistic skill but in return we get a taco joint rife with cheesy deliciousness that utterly dominates. All things remain in balance, the cycle of life continues.
John, I love you (relax it's platonic) and I will miss you, and those tacos, and that hot, vaguely Hispanic-looking chick that works at the Taco Popo, but mainly you….and the tacos.
New Bar Review: Windows Too (1699 Nanjing Xi Lu)
This bar’s been around for a while but I just went there so it’s new to me and let me tell you it gets this drinker’s nod of approval. Is the music good? Not really. Is the clientele interesting and pleasant? Nope. Do pretty ladies abound? I didn’t really look, but I’m sure there are and I’m sure the majority are working girls. Then why in the world do you like this place GregEZ? Because it’s fuckin’ cheap! Everything is either 10 or 20 RMB and that’s a steal in Shanghai, especially when your funds are prematurely depleted by some sticky-fingered whore who pick pockets you at Excalibur Sucks while you are drunk and focusing all your concentration on whompin’ Alf’s ass at Jenga! It wasn’t that much money, like 50 RMB at the most, and that’s even if I did indeed get pick pocketed at all (I was pretty drunk.) I could have just forgot I already spent it on beer and tequila shots. By the way Alf is like the best drinking buddy you could ever wish for. So if you are in Shanghai and don’t feel like getting raped on drinks check out Windows Too. It’s a pretty cheap and pretty chill. Oh and did I mention it is only a five minute walk to Taco Popo? It is.
Check It Out! I mean it!
Round 2: Shanghai
Well the day I hoped would never come did. Our patriarch and guide John P. has left us for greener pastures up in Shanghai and being the friend I am, unlike some who’ll remain nameless (Alf,) I lent my services (and by “services” I mean this sweet ass, chiseled body) to help him move which meant I would have to once again spend an extended amount of time in the cesspool of depravity that is Shanghai. Well this time it wasn’t that bad thanks to a certain film by the title of, Bad Boys 2. This movie rules! Ten times better than the first, though I recommend you watch the first installment because it will make you appreciate the sequel that much more. The chemistry between Martin Lawrence and Will Smith ignites the screen and draws you in to a world where unparalleled action is the soup du jour. The three days I spent up there could have been 72 hours of relentless demonic sodomy by some creature that ejaculates nothing but hornets and holly leaves and I would not have minded in the least. Why? Because Bad Boys 2 is that sweet!
Settling John in was quite easy. In fact I did little more than carry some bags and move some furniture. The main thing I had to deal with was John’s incessant crying. He was balling like I just put down his pet dog while beating his sugar gliders to death with his favorite kitten. He wasn’t too much in the mood for partying and I understood why: Because he’s an enormous pussy.
In truth John was fine and rather upbeat. He didn’t shed a tear and he has no reason to. His apartment is great even if one of the elevators is possessed by the devil (think Stephen King’s Christine except it’s an elevator not a car.) His new co-workers are wonderful, and he’s near his girlfriend who’s a great woman. And most importantly, all of us in Hangzhou are merely a 25 RMB train ride away from wearing out our welcome with him. It truly is a non-event and I’m saying that for his sake because I’m going to greatly miss him even though he is only 2 hours away and I don’t want him to feel guilty for the fact that he deserted us for cash.
There’s a saying that goes something like, “God doesn’t close a door without opening a window.” And it is a completely suitable parable to sum up John’s departure. It is true that he is no longer here to help and guide us. We no longer have him as a translator we can rely on due to his more than competent grasp of Mandarin Chinese, and most distressingly, we no longer have that 6 foot 5 inch gangly skyscraper around drunkenly throwing punches at whoever comes within his swarthy range (he’s a punchy drunk.) I’m mean who’s gonna beat the shit out of me now? I still got Carl to pee on me but he punches like a girl! (For the record I don’t have a urine fetish, nor have I ever been peed on.) What I’m trying to say is, it is going to be different without John here, and it will be tougher but the upside (the window God opened) is that John’s new apartment is only two minutes away from a Tex-Mex restaurant called Taco Popo and this place is the bizzomb (a fine establishment with delicious cuisine.) I ate there everyday. Tex-Mex burgers, chicken tacos, and soft shell beef tacos overflowing with CHEESE!!! Oh Great Zombie Jesus (Futurama) how I miss cheese! So we lose John and all his linguistic skill but in return we get a taco joint rife with cheesy deliciousness that utterly dominates. All things remain in balance, the cycle of life continues.
John, I love you (relax it's platonic) and I will miss you, and those tacos, and that hot, vaguely Hispanic-looking chick that works at the Taco Popo, but mainly you….and the tacos.
New Bar Review: Windows Too (1699 Nanjing Xi Lu)
This bar’s been around for a while but I just went there so it’s new to me and let me tell you it gets this drinker’s nod of approval. Is the music good? Not really. Is the clientele interesting and pleasant? Nope. Do pretty ladies abound? I didn’t really look, but I’m sure there are and I’m sure the majority are working girls. Then why in the world do you like this place GregEZ? Because it’s fuckin’ cheap! Everything is either 10 or 20 RMB and that’s a steal in Shanghai, especially when your funds are prematurely depleted by some sticky-fingered whore who pick pockets you at Excalibur Sucks while you are drunk and focusing all your concentration on whompin’ Alf’s ass at Jenga! It wasn’t that much money, like 50 RMB at the most, and that’s even if I did indeed get pick pocketed at all (I was pretty drunk.) I could have just forgot I already spent it on beer and tequila shots. By the way Alf is like the best drinking buddy you could ever wish for. So if you are in Shanghai and don’t feel like getting raped on drinks check out Windows Too. It’s a pretty cheap and pretty chill. Oh and did I mention it is only a five minute walk to Taco Popo? It is.
Check It Out! I mean it!
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Out with the Old and In with the Literary Clichés:
Well in most of the world 2003 is over, and the New Year (2004) has begun as we all kind of assumed it would. Religious fanatics and crestfallen Weekly World News correspondents are off again to find more images of Jesus in dairy products and smoke plumes, and further report the goings on of America’s own, Bat Boy, because once again the end of the world did not come. But over here in China, my beloved Middle Kingdom, the New Year is still a few weeks away. For all of you into the whole Chinese zodiac thing it is still the year of the Evil Goat Lord, yet the end of his reign doth draw nigh. Come January 21st at midnight the Evil Goat Lord will relinquish his throne (though not without a fight if I can find the costumes) to his successor, the Shape Shifter Monkey. In Chinese astro/mythology there isn’t really any epic battle between their Zodiac animals on New Year’s, I just think it’s more fun. I was going to just buy a goat and a monkey and let them duke it out for our drunken enjoyment but I couldn’t find any PCP.
With the exception of traveling 10,000 miles away from my home and submersing myself in a foreign culture, and trying (albeit half-assedly) to learn Mandarin Chinese, this past year has been largely uneventful. Actually that isn’t true. I just tend to be rather self-deprecating and think less of my life than I should. Living in China, by default, ensures an eventful existence: buying milk tea is an event, getting a cab is an event, negotiating what sort of kickback to give the cops for turning a blind eye to certain transactions is an event. For the record, mom and dad, I just find buyers for the organs. I don’t have anything to do with their removal. As far as I know, that guy passed out behind the bar didn’t want his liver, or kidneys. And who’s ever heard of a gall bladder? It’s another appendix you ask me.*
The guys I work with are, by and large, the reason I am having the time I am (which is a great one.) But I have gone on much too much over how much they mean to me and have by no one’s fault but my own left out many people whom mean as much but haven’t gotten near the mention. (The following names will all be pseudonyms.)
Benny: Besides being quite attractive, Benny is also very funny and a great confidant. He hails from the same part of the U.S. I do: The South. Benny be straight blingin’ it off the heezzy fo’ sheezzy (that’s a lot) and I can always count on him for a good time out. Furthermore when I get drunk and emotive (which doesn’t take much booze because I am a pretty open person sober) Benny has the common courtesy to not walk off in disgust like oh so many of the vagina’d kind do. He’s always been understanding and respectful. I don’t see Benny as much as I would like largely because we live very far away from one another and I have quite a full plate controlling the north side of the HZ (Hangzhou) with my fellow PTL capos. And the whole black market organ thing as well, that’s eight days a week.
Leather: The foreign teaching staff here at my university is bar none the finest consortium of dedicated educators this side of any school for retarded kids (I’m serious those teachers are really dedicated, and I can’t resist the chance to piss off my friend Wendy back home who actually does teach handi-capable children.) But for as talented as we all are (which is very) we lack one thing: estrogen. I love these guys like brothers but its all testosterone all the time, which is to be expected because we all have testicles. But sometimes I just want to go shopping, sip mochaccinos and swoon over super-mega hotties like Tyson Beckford and Skeet Ulrich (okay I just typed both those names and Microsoft Word decided “Beckford” should get the red misspell line underneath it while “Skeet Ulrich” goes unnoticed…who’s dick did Skeet suck? Are you with me guys? Huh? Huh?) Okay I do like shopping, and yes, on occasion I get a frilly drink at Starbucks (“iced mocha half-caf please!”) but I very rarely speak of Skeet Ulrich unless I am using his career as a metaphor for something with a very short lifespan. As for Tyson Beckford, well he’s just stunning. Have you seen this guy? It’s like Adonis and Denzel Washington had a baby and christened it with diamonds. I’d love to be him for a day. I’d need Excalibur to keep the pussy at bay. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is (no, Afu I’m not gay) I like to nurture my feminine side every now and then and when I do Leather is the person I call. Now Leather will insist that I never call but she’s a blatant liar. In all honesty I don’t call as much as I should and it is entirely my fault but one of my New Year’s Resolutions (see below) is to mend that because I value greatly the time I spend with her and cherish her company. And if you are reading this Leather, I promise when you return, come hell and/or high water, I will make it to your neck of the woods and we will watch Old School and I can’t wait to go apartment shopping. Oh, and one more thing: shower fresh Secret, not powder fresh (yeah, I use women’s anti-perspirant you want to fight about it?)
Moto (not a pseudonym, but it is a nickname) : My last post reviewing bars on Nan Shan Lu was at best a incomplete evaluation of bars I almost never go to because the bars on my side of HZ are much more low key, inexpensive and comfortable. Granted, those bars on Nan Shan Lu are a lot bigger, and flashier, and probably impress dates more, but they lack the intimacy I like to effectively unwind. In my future post, “Shitty Bars Near My Campus and Why I Like Them,” one bar shines out above the rest: the Rooftop Bar (officially called “Happy Sky Bar.") This place rules, and we call it the Rooftop Bar because it’s on the roof of a hotel that caters to lovers who have to make it back to their dorms before curfew and ain’t got a lot o’ time for dilly dally. The proprietor of the Rooftop goes by the name of Moto and he has always been more than accommodating to us foreigners. Always gracious and eager to please he has always been there for us and always welcomed us. However, due to Hangzhou’s rather chilly winters and this bar’s open-air atmosphere this relaxed haven away from the hustle and bustle has been closed. But I vow if it opens back up come spring I’ll be there, making up for lost time, double fisting long necks of Xihu, supporting the man who never hesitated to help us. Moto, all the foreign teachers here got your back. You keep that place running and we’ll keep coming.
A special thanks to Ron D. (pseudonym) for hooking me up with a laptop for my room so I don’t have to freeze every time I want to check my email in the office. I’ll also be able to post more frequently (please read: disappoint my family more often.) Also, it has afforded me the chance to reacquaint myself with an old friend: pornography. Oh how I missed you these past four and a half months. Needless to say, my masturbation regimen is back on track thanks to the girls at Vivid and…well…just about whatever I can find on Kazaa Lite (by the way, German porn is fucked up.)
New Year’s Resolutions (or: shit I won’t accomplish)
1. Quit smoking. (Let’s be fuckin’ realistic. Its just not gonna happen. Plus I got Long Jin Green Tea from my students and that subtly delectable brew is chock full of cancer neutralizing anti-oxidants so I can smoke as much as I want and it hardly effects me.)
2. Study Chinese harder. I’m sick and tired of saying, “Ting bu dong” and “Wo bu zhidao.” I’d also like to be able to fully read a menu instead of ordering on a whim or relying on Lanky J (my new nickname for John P) all the time.
3. Actually go see Leather at her place instead of always having her come out to our side of town.
4. Devote more time to myself and my mental health. I really need to find my center and focus. I need to find a healthy release. I tend to get a little too riled up with the anxiety, and depression, and obligation and guilt and all those neurotic little nuances that make me want to St. Jerome my self into oblivion.
5. Write more.
6. Develop the power of telekinesis. I think it would be awesome to make women orgasm with my mind.
7. Travel as much as I can throughout this amazing country and see as much as I can while I am here.
8. Revive the careers of Eric Roberts and Dabney Coleman.
9. Practice playing the Gu Zheng more, and further study Chinese arts and music. Perhaps calligraphy or the Beijing Opera, or reading the works of Lu Xun and Su Dongpo (for I have read but a little of both.)
10. Make 2004 the year I don’t kill a hooker!!
Happy New Year’s Everybody! I hope 2004 is filled with good fortune and happiness for all of you! Check out my nephew Dominic! He rules in a hard way:
* Not that this needs to be stated but just in case: I, Greg Kummery, am in no way, shape or form associated with or involved in the black market organ trade. I have also never paid off a cop in China or the United States. And I have never murdered a prostitute, or even laid a hand in malice on any woman, man, child or animal (endangered or otherwise with the exception of insects like mosquitoes, flies, and cockroaches.)
Well in most of the world 2003 is over, and the New Year (2004) has begun as we all kind of assumed it would. Religious fanatics and crestfallen Weekly World News correspondents are off again to find more images of Jesus in dairy products and smoke plumes, and further report the goings on of America’s own, Bat Boy, because once again the end of the world did not come. But over here in China, my beloved Middle Kingdom, the New Year is still a few weeks away. For all of you into the whole Chinese zodiac thing it is still the year of the Evil Goat Lord, yet the end of his reign doth draw nigh. Come January 21st at midnight the Evil Goat Lord will relinquish his throne (though not without a fight if I can find the costumes) to his successor, the Shape Shifter Monkey. In Chinese astro/mythology there isn’t really any epic battle between their Zodiac animals on New Year’s, I just think it’s more fun. I was going to just buy a goat and a monkey and let them duke it out for our drunken enjoyment but I couldn’t find any PCP.
With the exception of traveling 10,000 miles away from my home and submersing myself in a foreign culture, and trying (albeit half-assedly) to learn Mandarin Chinese, this past year has been largely uneventful. Actually that isn’t true. I just tend to be rather self-deprecating and think less of my life than I should. Living in China, by default, ensures an eventful existence: buying milk tea is an event, getting a cab is an event, negotiating what sort of kickback to give the cops for turning a blind eye to certain transactions is an event. For the record, mom and dad, I just find buyers for the organs. I don’t have anything to do with their removal. As far as I know, that guy passed out behind the bar didn’t want his liver, or kidneys. And who’s ever heard of a gall bladder? It’s another appendix you ask me.*
The guys I work with are, by and large, the reason I am having the time I am (which is a great one.) But I have gone on much too much over how much they mean to me and have by no one’s fault but my own left out many people whom mean as much but haven’t gotten near the mention. (The following names will all be pseudonyms.)
Benny: Besides being quite attractive, Benny is also very funny and a great confidant. He hails from the same part of the U.S. I do: The South. Benny be straight blingin’ it off the heezzy fo’ sheezzy (that’s a lot) and I can always count on him for a good time out. Furthermore when I get drunk and emotive (which doesn’t take much booze because I am a pretty open person sober) Benny has the common courtesy to not walk off in disgust like oh so many of the vagina’d kind do. He’s always been understanding and respectful. I don’t see Benny as much as I would like largely because we live very far away from one another and I have quite a full plate controlling the north side of the HZ (Hangzhou) with my fellow PTL capos. And the whole black market organ thing as well, that’s eight days a week.
Leather: The foreign teaching staff here at my university is bar none the finest consortium of dedicated educators this side of any school for retarded kids (I’m serious those teachers are really dedicated, and I can’t resist the chance to piss off my friend Wendy back home who actually does teach handi-capable children.) But for as talented as we all are (which is very) we lack one thing: estrogen. I love these guys like brothers but its all testosterone all the time, which is to be expected because we all have testicles. But sometimes I just want to go shopping, sip mochaccinos and swoon over super-mega hotties like Tyson Beckford and Skeet Ulrich (okay I just typed both those names and Microsoft Word decided “Beckford” should get the red misspell line underneath it while “Skeet Ulrich” goes unnoticed…who’s dick did Skeet suck? Are you with me guys? Huh? Huh?) Okay I do like shopping, and yes, on occasion I get a frilly drink at Starbucks (“iced mocha half-caf please!”) but I very rarely speak of Skeet Ulrich unless I am using his career as a metaphor for something with a very short lifespan. As for Tyson Beckford, well he’s just stunning. Have you seen this guy? It’s like Adonis and Denzel Washington had a baby and christened it with diamonds. I’d love to be him for a day. I’d need Excalibur to keep the pussy at bay. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is (no, Afu I’m not gay) I like to nurture my feminine side every now and then and when I do Leather is the person I call. Now Leather will insist that I never call but she’s a blatant liar. In all honesty I don’t call as much as I should and it is entirely my fault but one of my New Year’s Resolutions (see below) is to mend that because I value greatly the time I spend with her and cherish her company. And if you are reading this Leather, I promise when you return, come hell and/or high water, I will make it to your neck of the woods and we will watch Old School and I can’t wait to go apartment shopping. Oh, and one more thing: shower fresh Secret, not powder fresh (yeah, I use women’s anti-perspirant you want to fight about it?)
Moto (not a pseudonym, but it is a nickname) : My last post reviewing bars on Nan Shan Lu was at best a incomplete evaluation of bars I almost never go to because the bars on my side of HZ are much more low key, inexpensive and comfortable. Granted, those bars on Nan Shan Lu are a lot bigger, and flashier, and probably impress dates more, but they lack the intimacy I like to effectively unwind. In my future post, “Shitty Bars Near My Campus and Why I Like Them,” one bar shines out above the rest: the Rooftop Bar (officially called “Happy Sky Bar.") This place rules, and we call it the Rooftop Bar because it’s on the roof of a hotel that caters to lovers who have to make it back to their dorms before curfew and ain’t got a lot o’ time for dilly dally. The proprietor of the Rooftop goes by the name of Moto and he has always been more than accommodating to us foreigners. Always gracious and eager to please he has always been there for us and always welcomed us. However, due to Hangzhou’s rather chilly winters and this bar’s open-air atmosphere this relaxed haven away from the hustle and bustle has been closed. But I vow if it opens back up come spring I’ll be there, making up for lost time, double fisting long necks of Xihu, supporting the man who never hesitated to help us. Moto, all the foreign teachers here got your back. You keep that place running and we’ll keep coming.
A special thanks to Ron D. (pseudonym) for hooking me up with a laptop for my room so I don’t have to freeze every time I want to check my email in the office. I’ll also be able to post more frequently (please read: disappoint my family more often.) Also, it has afforded me the chance to reacquaint myself with an old friend: pornography. Oh how I missed you these past four and a half months. Needless to say, my masturbation regimen is back on track thanks to the girls at Vivid and…well…just about whatever I can find on Kazaa Lite (by the way, German porn is fucked up.)
New Year’s Resolutions (or: shit I won’t accomplish)
1. Quit smoking. (Let’s be fuckin’ realistic. Its just not gonna happen. Plus I got Long Jin Green Tea from my students and that subtly delectable brew is chock full of cancer neutralizing anti-oxidants so I can smoke as much as I want and it hardly effects me.)
2. Study Chinese harder. I’m sick and tired of saying, “Ting bu dong” and “Wo bu zhidao.” I’d also like to be able to fully read a menu instead of ordering on a whim or relying on Lanky J (my new nickname for John P) all the time.
3. Actually go see Leather at her place instead of always having her come out to our side of town.
4. Devote more time to myself and my mental health. I really need to find my center and focus. I need to find a healthy release. I tend to get a little too riled up with the anxiety, and depression, and obligation and guilt and all those neurotic little nuances that make me want to St. Jerome my self into oblivion.
5. Write more.
6. Develop the power of telekinesis. I think it would be awesome to make women orgasm with my mind.
7. Travel as much as I can throughout this amazing country and see as much as I can while I am here.
8. Revive the careers of Eric Roberts and Dabney Coleman.
9. Practice playing the Gu Zheng more, and further study Chinese arts and music. Perhaps calligraphy or the Beijing Opera, or reading the works of Lu Xun and Su Dongpo (for I have read but a little of both.)
10. Make 2004 the year I don’t kill a hooker!!
Happy New Year’s Everybody! I hope 2004 is filled with good fortune and happiness for all of you! Check out my nephew Dominic! He rules in a hard way:
* Not that this needs to be stated but just in case: I, Greg Kummery, am in no way, shape or form associated with or involved in the black market organ trade. I have also never paid off a cop in China or the United States. And I have never murdered a prostitute, or even laid a hand in malice on any woman, man, child or animal (endangered or otherwise with the exception of insects like mosquitoes, flies, and cockroaches.)
