Hallucinating and blasting puke

So I finally got the Cuba post up. Though we had a great time, I'd like to point out that in some ways I do feel shitty about the way we rich kids go down to paradise and fuck around while your average Cuban or Dominican sleeps every night in a house that most of us would consider unlivable. (That's why it's best not to leave the resort.)
I'm sure those fishing guides thought we were complete assholes. Then again, we did leave them our catch. And we paid them. And as James would say, "That's just the way it is." in the world.
Or was that Bruce Hornsby?

I also figured out the video thing to get YouTube on here. It only took me about a year...
Like most of my technological understandings, it was a trial and error thing that I just stumbled upon. Glad I sorted it out though. Now I just gotta figure out how to get an mp3 player in the sidebar and I'll be rockin.

I had an interview this week for a job in London for the summer, but it turned out to be an interview for what I was doing with the next 3 years of my life, as the doctor and his assistant quizzed me on why I wanted to do my Masters with them. Needless to say, I stumbled like a fool. But who knows, they seemed to like me. I even got a tour of the lab after the 45 minute interview.

I also sorted out a place to stay this summer if I actually do lock up a job down here. Turns out it's about 5 doors down the road from my place now, so that's pretty cool. Most of the summer would be spent alone (unless we find someone to take the other bedroom), but I will have a solid 3 weeks with my friend Laura, because she has to take an Orgo Chem class during the summer.
Then James and I just have to sort out an 8 month lease for next year, hopefully with Ben and Steve back in town too.

I found an article the other day about a set of twins that's been discovered in the States. Turns out they're half identical and half fraternal - something that was previously thought to be impossible. I guess ya learn somethin new every day.

What else is new... my bro came down last weekend. It had been awhile since I'd seen him, and I finally got to see his car. I took it for a spin even though he didn't want me to. (That's why I took off while he was passed out the morning after drinking til 5:30.)

Not much else to say, gotta go get some work done.

Passion on the floor

7 Days Under the Influence

Two weeks ago my 5 roommates and I came back from the best week of our entire university lives.
We headed down to Cayo Coco, Cuba for a shitshow week of drunkeness and sun, and I think it's fair to say we made the best of it.
It's hard to recall everything since we were pretty much wasted 24/7, but I'll give a rundown of the most memorable things.

As we landed at the airport at about 8 pm, we looked out the window to see a white ground that looked strangely similar to the snow in Toronto, but the pilot assured us it was actually sand. And as soon as we got on the bus to the resort we started double fisting cans of beer to start the night off. I dont recall much from that night, but I don't think it was overly eventful. beyond Mather cutting his toe, and a few of us hanging out with some boys from Ottawa who hated the Leafs as much as we do.

The next night we went to dinner, where I foolishly decided to start chugging wine. I must have downed a full bottle in about 10 minutes, and that's the last thing I remember. When I woke up the next morning I knew something was wrong, since I felt strange wounds on my body and remembered nothing of the night. As it turns out, I took a ridiculous spill on the walk back to the room after dinner, and an old couple asked me if I was okay. Apparently I swore at them, and another couple was told that I was "slow" to which they responded "Awwww...."
As I was sleeping things off, four of the boys joined a talent show to see who would be crowned "Mr. Cuba". It turns out Kozzy won because he catered to the kids in the crowd by naming his favourite celebrity as Spongebob Squarepants. He won a bottle of rum, Steve fell off the stage while attempting to do a handstand, and Ben showed off his hilarious treasure trail while doing a striptease dance routine. Funny shit, too bad I missed it.
The boys came back to the room to see if I wanted to hit the bar, only to find me in a massive puddle of red puke, completely passed out right on the hallway floor. Mike started yelling, "He's bleeding" but it was actually just the wine. After James did his best Jack Bauer impression to try and get my to drink some water, they sent me to bed for good. I remember nothing of this, it's all hearsay (and the pictures of it are lost with Steve's camera that went missing that night. someone has pics of me laying in puke, and naked in a bathtub with a strategically placed hand towel. *grimace*)
Ben also got lost that night on another resort and showed up the next day with cuts all over his body. For some reason he was completely out of it the next day, and was unable to speak coherently. Was he drugged? Was he scarred for life somehow? Was he embarassed about some stupid adventure he took? Noone knows for sure. Not even Ben.

The next day we rocked the beach scene with our wicked little stereo that we took with us everywhere for the week. All we had to do was plug in an iPod and we were rolling. I can't say that day was all too memorable (beyond Ben's catatonic state), but that night we met these four British guys who soon became our drinking buddies for the rest of the week. Luka, Nick, Ryan, and Dan were there with some family, but basically hung out with us for the majority of the time.
That was also the day that we met Serge from montreal who liked to play volleyball. We played with him a bunch of times, and it was a ton of fun rockin out to the tunes at the same time. James' voleyball skills were abismal, and even the tall boy Steve failed to impress.

Another day was spent on the beach, playing volleyball, wandering around etc. I'm pretty sure that was the day that Bryan fought a guy we named "Butterbean" in the main pool. It was pretty hilarious, I thought the Dude might drown Bry... considering he had about 150 lbs on him.
That night we hung out with our girls from home and took it pretty easy on the booze. A few of us took a walk down the beach to another resort, but it wasn't rockin the way we thought it would be. They didn't have a disco, the air reeked, and they ran out of booze. Heading home to crash I was a little worried that the rest of our week might be a little toned-down. Thankfully that wasn't the case...

The next day was pretty uneventful, beyond our booking of the deep sea fishing trip which was set for the following day. Steve ended up getting hammered at dinner. Then a couple of the guys had the bright idea of shoving him into a bush, where he landed on a rock and cut up his back. He has a gross scar now. At the time I was off searching for a bird who yelled "Beh" at us all week. I did get a good pic of Steve crying in the bush though (which is very reminiscent of a picture from first year actually). Naturally we got smashed that night, and if i remember right we just hit the disco and lobby bar for most of the time. I think that was also the night that Steve smashed a huge tray of beer and mixed drinks all over Luka, who was soaked and pretty pissed off at Steve-o. Funny for us though.

Now onto the fishing trip - arguably the best day of our lives up to this point.
We had to be up at 8 a.m. or something stupid, and I was just about ready to punch Mike in the face as he tried to wake me up. I'm pretty sure all of us were still plastered from drinking until 4 am, but Kozzy and James grabbed some beers anyway, and were forced to chug them because they were told that no beers were allowed on the bus. We were all feeling pretty rough when we got on the boat, but we decided to start pounding some rum to get the day going. It was an amazing day on the water, and probably the hottest of our whole trip.
As we were cruising out to sea with our skip and his partner guiding the way, a little old dude just emerged from below deck. Turns out he was the one who took care of the baiting of the lures and whatnot, but it was pretty strange to see him unexpectedly like that. He set all of our lines and for about an hour all we did was sing tunes with the stereo and drink. That was, until Steve's line jumped and he had to spring into action.
I'm pretty sure that kid has never stuggled so hard for anything in his life. As he was reeling in, he was saying "I can't feel my arms", and with good reason. He had this 30 lb grouper on the line and the bastard was rolling awkwardly to make it harder to reel him in. Once he landed the fish Gow collapsed beside him, a scene shown here:


After the first grouper, all we got were baracudas, but damn was it fun reeling them in. Each of us got one fish, which was dynamite. I was worried that James the fisherman wasn't going to get one, because he drew the straw that gave him last pull at a reel. But once he did we were all happy and we headed for shore. The captain let Ben and I ride up at the front of the boat on the deck, which was actually pretty dangerous. I was worried about losing the iPod and stereo, but we made it back with no problems.


It turns out we drank the boat dry after they gave us the remaining beer to take on the bus home (the same bus that didn't allow beer, oddly enough). We left the fish for our giudes and headed back to the resort. The whole ride home we were singing like crazy, dropping F-bombs like it was our job, and drinking our beer while trying to stand upright as the bus veered left and right. Kozzy decided to ride in the overhead compartment and then started pouring beer all over us. The other 15 or so people on the bus moved right up to the front, presumably to protect their children from us.
When we got back to the resort most of the boys went for a nap, but Kozzy and I stayed out at the pool drinking all day.
That night we decided to pay 10 pesos to go to a bar called "The Cave". And it actually was a cave. We had to ride on this open-sided bus/train thing for about 15 mins to get there, and teh damn thing was swerving all over the raod. We kept everyone in good spirits by singing oldschool songs like "The Wheels on the Bus".
For the first hour or so in the cave it was awful - they only had one bar open and it was about 40 degrees in there. Mike, Bry and Steve decided to bail as soon as the first bus was leaving, but Bender, James and I stuck around to party. From that point on the night got ten times better. We met a ton of people from Western, got tons of beer, and Ben even had a run-in with a hooker. She was trying to lure him into the bathroom, but he was oblivious to her intentions. Being the socialite he is, he tried to start a normal discussion with her. I stood back and laughed my ass off, but eventually dragged him out of that situation.
Then there was the bus ride home... where I had the bright idea to ride in between the cars of the train as it was whipping down the road. Then I got really bold and climbed onto the roof of the thing, stood there without holding on, and posed for this picture. Note my shirt blowing in the wind.


I bet that fuckin thing was going about 70 km/h, and again it was swerving all over the road. I realistically would have died if I had fallen. Oh well, you only live once, right? Once I got down they had to send a security guard back to keep and eye on me, but we were almost back at the resort anyway. I don't remember what we did when we got home...

The next day was rather depressing, because we knew the week was winding down. We had a good time though, drinking and trading stories form the day and night before. That night we hit the beach party that the resort had set up. There was a stage and music and tons of booze, so we had a hell of a time. There was an older dude who was completely shitfaced, and he staggered around like a fool until he eventually knocked over oone of the big speakers and brought the party to a halt for awhile. That night I got shoved into a pool, and Ben got pulled head first into an excruciatingly hot jacuzzi - both of us with our digital cameras in our pockets. Needless to say, they're both done for. Thankfully our memory cards weren't fried, because if they were the entire trip would've been lost. I had been taking pics all week long, ending up with about 450 of them. If those were lost, we probably would've cried.
Seriously.

We drank a bit the next day, but noone was really feeling it. We were worn out from the week, and we had to get ready to leave the resort by 5 p.m. Steve and I had to steal some towels to stop a maid from charging us 25 pesos apiece for "lost" towels that were actually picked up by the staff, as they were soaked in my red puke. We also bought all of our booze and cigars that day. We said farewell to the Brits and headed for the airport.
Our flight was delayed, but we kept ourselves occupied with some card games. I think everyone but me slept on the plane home, so I got to see the entirety of Rocky Balboa. Decent movie.

So there it went - as we stepped out of the T.O. airport (wearing only sandals, shorts, and a short sleeved shirt), we all pretty much agreed that we have to do that kind of thing at least once more before we get too old.

Deepthroat

I grew tired of the old layout so I decided to change things up a bit.
I gotta say I like the new style, but I still have to tweak some stuff to get it lookin perfect.

The last few weeks have been busy as hell with exams and whatnot, but as soon as my stats exam is done tomorrow I'm pretty much free until finals.

I'm workin on a huge Cuba post, but it's been difficult to remember everything that went down, so it might be a few days before I get that up.


Can't wait for St. Patty's, we're all gonna get proper fucked.

Some folks are born made to wave the flag... oooh that red white n' blue

Ever since the invasion of Iraq there's been increased talk of patriotism in the American media. In general it goes something like this: if you're not a supporter of the war effort, you're a traitor to your country and a coward. Just look at how they painted Cindy Sheehan when she asked "Where is the nobility in this supposed war on terror."


And lately it's all been laid out again on the floors of congress, with Republicans and Democrats both throwing words around to imply that you can or cannot support the troops if you don't support the war they're fighting. Personally, I find it all very hypocritical on both sides - these fat cats sit around and bitch about how best to go about things, accomplishing absolutely nothing, while more and more troops are killed or maimed a thousand miles away. And these people have no vested interest beyond political posturing - rarely would you find any meaningful connection between the politicians and the soldiers. Poor kids from urban centres pay the ultimate price while back home the rich get richer and feel no remorse for any of it.


The Republicans get me pissed off with all of this patriotic rabble - they're gung-ho for war and claim that we must take care of our wounded and send our healthy warriors into battle with the best possible protection and technology. Meanwhile the soldiers are sent into this conflict with no reinforcements on their Humvees and little body armour, and have even had to resort to buying their own silly string to detect trip wires that have been set up as boobie traps.

I watched a clip that Olberman put on the other day regarding the state of affairs that amputees and mentally damaged soldiers must deal with once they get back to the States. Essentially the Pentagon grossly underestimated the number of injuries that this war would produce, and now they're forcing some soldiers to live in rat and roach infested buildings just so they can be near treatment centres.

Bush claims that Americans must do everything that they can to help the vets, but he has done his best to cut back on the pay vets receive, the amount of money their families receive in case of the soldiers' deaths, and the pay that soldiers receive for current duty - not to mention the extension of tours of duty in Iraq.

Let's not forget about Valerie Plame either - the people who label others as traitors are themselves traitors, but far too powerful to be prosecuted (and possibly hanged) for it. It's cool to tell the world about an undercover federal agent, just because her husband is against your politics... but make sure you've got the ability to cover it up!

Another topic of interest is the dismissal of homosexual troops, some of whom have the great asset of being able to translate Arabic in the field. And now the military is so stretched to find troops (even after max-ing out current soldiers' tours) they're relaxing their restrictions on recruitment to allow convicted criminals to join the army. I read a stat that estimated 1 in 10 soldiers has some sort of criminal record. As an average soldier, would you want some cement-head with a jail-tat on his arm watching your back in Iraq? Not likely.

To me, American patriotism would be to follow the principles that were laid out by the founders of the country - something that's become so bastardized that it's hard to even relate their principles to today's government. All of it goes down the shitter when rhetoric about how "the Constitution was drafted in a simpler time" comes about. Have a look at the aptly labelled "Torture Act" and try to line it up with the Constitution. Look at the words of Roberto Gonzales - claiming that the writ of habeas corpus is not guaranteed to every citizen, but it is only guaranteed not to be taken away. That's abso-fucking-lutely unbelievable when you consider the figurehead that's speaking this kind of stuff.

But that's the America of the 21st century I suppose.

Gymclass Heroes

When I was a kid I used to be a competitive little bastard.
A good piece of my front tooth will attest to that, courtesy of a hockey stick to the face back in elementary school gym class.
There was a kid down the street that I used to battle with relentlessly in sports, and a number of kids I'd try to upstage academically. And alot of the time I did a damn good job of things.

But if you know me today, I don't get too bent out of shape by losing a hockey game or getting a lower grade on tests than my friends. In fact, I don't get too riled up about anything. There's probably been 3 or 4 times in my four years in university that I've been truly pissed off, the latest of which ended in my choking one of my best friends. I had a good reason though, rest assured.

It's hard to say when or why I lost my fire for competition and aggression. It's probably got alot to do with my old man, and how I was raised. He was always of the mind that when it came to sports we all ought to be realistic about our expectations. He knew that none of my teammates were ever bound for the NHL or Premier League Football, despite what the other parents on the sidelines might argue.

Then again, that doesn't explain my initial competitiveness, or the fact that my brother is a rage-aholic when it comes to the simplest of frustrations in life. Come to think of it, my dad and bro are very similar in that regard, despite my dad trying his best to raise us as respectful and level-headed kids. (If it was his intent to do so, I'd say he succeeded with me, but my bro somehow strayed from his original goals. haha).


When I watch movies like Friday Night Lights or Varsity Blues (or any of those typical sports movies), I can't help but feel pity for the people in the real world who actually buy into that shit. The fathers living through their kids; the kids who play through injuries that will end up affecting them for life; the coaches who brainwash kids into believing that anything short of victory amounts to sin.

The mentality of our culture is that winning is everything, and glory lasts forever yadda yadda... But the truth is that some yokels down in Texas winning a state championship in highschool football means absolutely nothing to 99.99% of the world. But impressionable kids are led to believe that somehow they are going to leave a mark on the world by taking a trophy home to put up on the mantle.

The winners eventually find out that winning isn't all it was cracked up to be. They'll still be stuck in their podunk towns with only dim lights at the end of the tunnel (probably because sports took precedent over academics or development of maturity and intellect). More importantly, however, is the impact on the kids who don't win under the pressure of their families, coaches, friends, and even hometowns. Pressures like that can really destroy people when the bottom falls out of the dreams they were trained to conjure up when they hit the pillow every night.

Even still, ya gotta love sports - whether it's the major leagues on TV or just a game of ministicks in the living room. But it all comes down to the reason you're playing I guess.

And maybe that's why I gave up my competitive nature - I came to the point of understanding that the world keeps turning and the clock keeps ticking no matter what the tallies on the scoreboard read.
These days I just don't sweat the small stuff. If you win or lose an insignificant game, as long as you don't let it change you as a person, there's no real difference. If you lose a thousand games and still get up the next day to play again - or if you win a thousand and keep your ego in check - it all balances out.
But I suppose everyone's got a different opinion of what insignificant means.

Frustrated Inc.

It feels like forever since I've written anything of consequence on here, and not for lack of having things to say, but for my inability to sit down and actually write. If I had a laptop and I could write anytime I felt the urge, I'd probably update this thing a few times a week. But whenever I get the time at home I just get bored with things and never seem to follow through.

It occured to me recently that this page might exist decades from now - hell, someday my grandkids could hypothetically be reading everything I write. But somehow that's not enough motivation to say anything.

See, I used to be funny.
I used to be clever and witty.
I used to have opinions.
I used to get out and do fun things.

Now I'm just boring.
I hope I can get my head out of my ass and my hands out of my pockets more in the future.

Even still...

I read the entirety of Bush's State of the Union address last week, and even though it seems to be fashionable in the blog-world to refrain from commenting on it this year, I did have alot to say.
Though the time to comment has come and passed, there were a few things to note:
A) Katrina victims and New Orleans didn't receive any attention whatsoever
B) The alleged victories that Bush claims to have captured over the "terrorists" are fairytales,
and
C) those stories of "heroes" doing great deeds within America... what the hell was that? Despite their irrelevance, Bush basically tried to bestow credit upon himself for how good these people are.

Unfortunately I missed the address on TV - if only to witness the President's struggle to spew out the bullshit in coherent sentences.

Anecdote

Back in World War II a man was asked to figure out a way to better protect planes and pilots by adding more armor to Allied aircraft.
So he basically drew out the planes and looked at all of the bullet holes in the planes that returned from missions. Every bullet hole meant a dot on his drawing of each respective plane, and eventually large areas of the pictures became dotted.

Now, you'd think he'd have said, "Put all of the armor on the spots that seem get hit the most."

Instead he said this - put the armor on the spots that we never see bullet holes, because those holes are only found in the planes that never make it home.

Boring things. And nipples.

Every year it seems that Christmas loses more and more of the meaning it used to hold when I was a kid. This year was no exception.
Over the past few years my parents have acquired the annoying habit of picking up a tree on Christmas Eve. So for the first few days that I was home it just felt like any other day. Add to that the fact that it was so bloody warm this year right through til January, and you've got the makings of a meaningless trip home.
Not to say that it wasn't good to see friends and family and everything, but the season is just losing its lustre.

Because of the weather it suddenly seems that every single person in the land believes in global warming. Probably a good thing, even if it was just a freak year that won't be repeated any time soon.

As soon as I got home I was greeted with an array of cats that set my allergies off. My parents have 3 cats and my bro has 2, so there was no avoiding it. That was one reason I was itching to get back home, the other one being the boredom that goes along with my hometown.


A bonus from my time at home was the day that I was checking the weather on TV while the weather girl was doing the national forecast. She was a large-chested girl, and I almost bore witness to both of her nipples, I swear to god. It was just a combination of the shirt she was wearing and the angle of the camera I suppose. Good stuff though.

Only killers call killing "progress"

Yesterday it was announced that Saddam Hussein's partners in crime (Barzan al-Tikriti and Awad Hamad al-Bandar) were sent to the gallows like their old friend was a short while ago. And wouldn't ya know it, they fucked it up again.
Considering the debacle that was Saddam's execution, the hangmen really should've appealed to common sense (to keep the "peace" between factions in Iraq if you will), the calls from the global community, and mercy itself in this matter. But more fundamentally, these executions should've been held of until all of the trials were finished. Even Saddam should've had his execution at least postponed until his other crimes had been put before a court. (And not just a clown court.)

But justice isn't really what anyone wanted in this case, is it? I mean, these three men were put to death for the murder of 148 Shias back in the 80s. But that's hardly the extent of their crimes. Everyone just seemed to want these guys dead, especially Bushy. After all, if you keep Saddam out of a legitimate trial and get him dead ASAP, odds are the US won't be made to look like the hypocrites they are. Let's not forget Saddam was funded by the US back when he was considered an ally, and Hussein committed some of his worst crimes while the US just turned a blind eye. Now that Hussein is just a scapegoat for the hatred and greed of helluvalot of Americans, all anybody cared about was seeing him dangle.

Or in the case of al-Tikriti, seeing his head pop off as the floor fell out beneath him. Apparently the whole thing was filmed again, but this time it was done so in a controlled manner. Nothing like the Saddam disaster, which lead to international criticism and deepened divides between those fighting in Iraq right now. No no, this time the video was only shown to a few reporters to defend the fact that the decapitation was "accidental". But from what I've read, the length of the rope is related to the weight of the person being hanged. So unless these fools can't do math, you pretty well have to assume it was done for effect.

As an interesting aside, I guess you could say the US got what it wanted out of Iraq - the governemnt has agreed to forfeit control of their oil to Western companies. All's well that ends well, right?
Oddly enough, back home we're still willing to spend $1.49 at Mac's on a bottle of flavoured water. It's a mad mad mad mad world kids.

In other news.... Over the break America reached the 3000 tally in lives lost in the battle on terror. Sounds impressive, but a number is only a number and you can't put a value on any of that. Still, it is strange to think that not even that many people were killed in 9/11.

Also, Bush is taking alot of flak over his new plan for Iraq, not to mention his idiotic plans for Iran. Olberman does a fantastic job of ripping the asshole out of that idiot, so I'll let him do the talking. (There's also a synopsis of his show if you can't watch the video)

Oh, and over the break James Brown and former President Gerald Ford also died. At least those events took up some air time in between the special reports on TV that were showing exactly how to hang a dictator, and how his neck will actually break between vertebrae X and Y rather than the rope strangling him. Interesting stuff! Not...

That's all I've got time to say for now, but I do have some news from my own life over the Christmas break and such, so I'll have to update that later.