24 Grey's Situation

It is amusing how much power 2 television shows have over particular communities. The community here is my university. Any other time of the week besides Monday & Thursday @ 9 the streets and sidewalks of the campus have students scattered about walking to and from the gym, library, practice, etc. Go drive into campus at one of these times & you will see a ghost town filled with dark dorms illuminated by the bluish white light of their television sets.

People are addicted to these shows. The same thing was with the O.C. last year, the campus went dead except for the electricity and cable boxed pumping out the shows. There was even a moment where a party was thrown at my apartment on a Sunday night which coincidentally was the premier night for Jack Bauer and his terrorists demolishing ways. The party did not start moving till at least an hour.5 after the show. So I will be the first to go out on a limb and say, "Jack Bauer hates partying!" His inconvenient show timing led to numerous amounts of college kids wasting there extra weekend Sunday night (no school was scheduled on the next day, MLK day) staying in and not enjoying the fruits of a well rounded college education. Shame on you Jack Bauer. We see him fight terrorists and other members of the Axis of Evil but this is an unjustified and immoral fight. Jack Bauer, you have done us wrong.

Gaming

This late addition (its currently 1:53 am on Sunday) to the blog deals with the delightful libation of cheap light beer which college students consume quick and easy. Personally, I am a big fan of the cheap disgusting beer of soughts. My school favorite is Beast Light aka Milwaukee's Best Light. Those who call it by it's full name are drinking it for the wrong and pathetic reasons. The majority of us that drink the untastey beverage simply to raise our BAC and enjoy our weekends call it by its proper and only respectable name, Beast!

While most kegs are Natty light, which is great on its own, Beast light in can defines college pregame. Those of us lucky enough to experience the current pregame extravaganza and learn the ways of the Pregamer have underwent an education that cannot be replicated in class or any other institution for my concern. Some schools can probably come close but as in the cliché quote here "We pregame like you party." This is the undeniable truth. Pregaming is always 10x better than the "game." The game contains of an overcrowded apartment where you run into random people you barely know yet now are obliged (since you ran into them at a random place) to say hi and shoot the shit. Amongst the tirade of drunkards you still look to find your friends, your fellow pregamers & the "game" remains the same. We go to parties to meet with other people yet always trying to find our way back to our teammates who pregamed with us. So why does this happen?

Luck! The chance that you may go out and meet somebody that can compliment yourself and bring out better qualities dives us to move and engage. This is too idealistic. Nowhere on Earth does this Utopia of places exist. All crap! The game is made to be crap and the pregame is what its all about. The pregame is fun, wild, and you are with your close friends enjoying each others company. Then when you decide to traverse to the designated party/game area it goes down hill. There are some good situations that come out of games but mostly you head back into the lockeroom with your teammates playing the Monday morning quarterback (here, Saturday/Sunday morning quarterback) and reflect on what you could have done better, not have done, or tried to win the game.

Nothing amounts to anything except the building of your tolerance. It becomes very easy in the beginning to get tipsed off of 2 Beasts. Then you start demoloshing 6 packs and still have the hand eye coordination to beat Jessica on Expert.

It is late and 19 minutes have passed so I will finish this post. Cheap light beer is terrible. Has the wonderful taste of cat piss mixed with strong carbonated alcoholic water. But I would never give up my cat tainted drink for some classy beer. Beast tastes like school & thats all I want.

Rap is Poetry?

People often claim that rap is a form of poetry. Saying that songs have thought out lyrics and smart rhythms to compliment. For some artists this is agreeable making songs that call their listeners to fight the power, don’t be apathetic towards government and yourself, and respect one another. Artists like Talib Kwali, Mos Def, & Wyclef Jean, for the most part stay true to these principles. These messages are everlasting and using rap as a medium for this extends these ideas to all kinds of people. But most rappers as in the words of Sacha Baron Cohen’s Bruno are a nish nish to creating smart rap songs.

An outstanding example is Akon’s “Smack That.” Forget what the song has to say for now, just look at the title, classiness! James Brown would be proud that his message of Say It Loud somehow transformed into Smack That. The radio airwaves could be filled with politically charged music with good beats but we request, smack that. The song is not bad, it is catchy and Eminem’s verse is damn good, but how does this contribute to anything good besides the proliferation of people smacking it more often till they get sore.

The are countless other similar songs to this but What more can I say, what’s the difference between now and the next episode? hip hop is dead? but diamonds are forever, while we’re in da club during a disco inferno, patiently waiting to jump around, just lose yourself, put your back into it, lean back, sing for the moment, even square dance, and spend some time stayin’ fly because when the music stops after the encore get the dirt off your shoulder raise up and think, what the hell is this?

Guitar Hero Will Ruin You

I have not played video games for along time. Last semester, I didn't even bring down my PS2 to school (I know, the horror!). There is a new game, new to me, called Guitar Hero that has changed my free time usage from that of bettering myself by either playing piano or guitar, reading books, or watching classic movies to relentlessly clicking five buttons atop of a shrunken plastic guitar while staring at a treadmill of colored nipples telling me how to play Jessica or Carry on my Wayward Son. Just by reading that you probably have already picked up your keys to go buy yourself a copy of the forearm killer (now there's 2) but until you have played this marvel of a game laugh at those who do because it is not before long you'll be laughing at yourself too.

Today before my Marketing classes began, I brought up the topic of Guitar Hero, stating that GH is something I am looking forward to this weekend. Overhearing the pathetic itinerary planned for the coming days, several other people jumped in claiming their love (although it's something more along the lines of a crack addiction) for GH. At least I am not the only one stuck GH and its hallucinatory effects. I say hallucinatory effects since when you play the game you are watching the "note treadmill" with hawk eye vision, your eyes get so use to seeing things keep moving up that when you look away from the television and step back into reality, everything around you moves up, as if you are on the floor watching a slow moving elevator. At first, it's creepy but after a while it comes to feel like the post GH euphoria.

Runner's Etiquette

I run quite often to stay in shape and keep healthy. Running outdoors in streets, sidewalks, parks you undoubtedly run pass other exercise enthusiast. Unknown to the outside, idle world but there is a runner’s code of etiquette that is amusing and intriguing. The most notable and widely practiced rule is the nod (male 2 male) or the smile &/or wave combo (male 2 female).

Imagine yourself running down a long side walk. The sidewalk is moderately hilly but you can see a fair amount of distance in front of you. Cars roar past you but they don’t affect your running that much since you have your iPod snuggly fastened in your ears. All of sudden on the horizon pops up another runner. It clicks in your head that you’re both on the same sidewalk running and will eventually pass by each other. As you move closer to the opposing runner you realize that is a girl. Seconds later you go by and almost too conscientiously do the smile & wave. If you saw this person any other place in the world you would pass them by like anyone else but because you both happen to have gone running at that exact same time you smile & wave. This is not isolated to the United States either. This happens as well in London & Antwerp, yet why do we feel compelled to acknowledge our fellow person at this junction? It is great that this simple communication happens among us but is the bond between 2 passing by runners really that strong to warrant this? Experience says yes but logic says no. It reminds me as if the world stops for a second while you and the other runner pass by and the fate of humanity rests upon each other’s acknowledgment of one another.

Oktoberfest

Most Incredible weekend of my life. The adventure begins on a Friday afternoon September 29th. Walking out of the last day of my two week crash course in Marketing, I am relieved after spewing out all of the information I have crammed in my brain for the final I have just taken (I later find out this pays off with getting an A in the class!) The clock strikes 11:45 am, this clocks the my first beer of the day. I am all packed up for the weekend and by packed I mean: a bag of chips, 8 beers, a bag of sesame pretzels, gum, napkins, Tucker Max book, camera, cigarettes (smoking is an excellent addition to beer), and iPod. We (Myself & 4 others) to the Antwerp train station to catch the 1:30 train to Brussels. From Brussels we take a train to Cologne, Germany. We have a 6 hour lay over here.

Cologne is a nice city and is shadowed by the huge cathedral (Dom in German). This is the most impressive Gothic cathedral in the world. The pointed arches, stained glass windows, gargoyles, and moldings all around make the cathedral's dominance even more impressive. We walk a lot around Cologne. Unluckily, the area right outside the train station (besides the cathedral) is all main stream shopping stores that have no appeal to us. We want something German and cannot seem to find anything. We walk upon the gay area of Cologne (later to find out that Cologne is one of the largest gay cities of Europe) and find one of the funniest store names I have evee seen, Sex & Gay Shop. Still traveling around Cologne, we finally find some bratwurst and schnitzel at a little stand. The brat is great and is only bettered by the mustard on top. After making several circles around this huge catastrophe of corporate shopping and bright lights we find ourselves by the river and we chill here for a bit with some beer and relax and enjoy the fact that we are actually in Germany on our way to the biggest beer festival in the world, Oktoberfest in Munich.

We get on our train out of Cologne at 11pm and have a transfer at Frankfurt before out final train to Munich. This goes fine and we catch our Munich train. Everyone in the group besides me was able to get 1st class tickets for the final train from Frankfurt to Munich except myself, so I was sitting by myself. Our train is set to arrive in Munich at 5:25 am. I wake up around 5 am here the train loudspeaker mention Munich. Assuming the train is extremely efficient (it is Germany) I think great the earlier the better. As I get off the train I see that not a lot of people are exiting, especially the Irish Drinking Team that has been drinking for several hours if not days straight. Realizing that I am not in a major train station and at a suburb of Munich, I attempt to get back on the train but the doors have already shut. Screaming out Fuck, Shit, Fuck, Shit while banging my tired fists against the door the train pulls away onto its final destination Munich. When perfect situations and flawless plans come to mind, standing alone with no cell phone service in a deserted train station at 5:10 am in a suburb of Munich lists far from the top. Luckily since this was the 1st stop outside of Munich there was another train leaving for Munich in 4 minutes. How I found this out so quickly, I am unsure of but I will attribute it to my keen knowledge of the German language.

I finally meet up with the rest of my group to see them past out in the middle of one of the platforms in Munich Hautbanhof (Central Station). Its 5:45 am in Munich and there are already completely drunk off their ass wasted people. I am shocked and jealous. Not of their liver or of the health problems they will sure encounter but for the fact that they are obviously going to Oktoberfest and most likely can pull of this type of drinking escapade. We trek a bit around Munich trying to find the Oktoberfest grounds. I took the leader position and fittingly head us in the wrong direction. Luckily it was 6 in the morning and we had lots of time to spare so my mistake was easily fixed. Although we did get to see Olympic Park (or some park with huge monuments and building in it).

8 am - We arrive at Shangri-La aka Oktoberfest. It is a beer engulfed Disney World. Their are rides, carnival games, bratwurst, pretzels, chocolates, roller coasters all around and most importantly the beer tents. These are massive houses that hold thousands of willing libation consumptioners to come and sample some of their finest tonics. We walk on the main strip at the Weisen (The area at which Oktoberfest is held) and find ourselves at the Lowenbrau tent. We wait in line for about 45 minutes to an hour. I mention line but it is more of a drunken horde of people who are unable to wait and prolong there inebriated states, sing German drinking songs, sit at long wooden tables, stare at beautiful women in outfits that make magnets out of their cleavage, and enjoy the atmosphere which is Oktoberfest. While outside waiting outside to gain entrance into the Lowenbrau tent I am smushed in between my friends, Germans, and the most obnoxious and load Italians. The Italians insist on every 5 seconds yelling at the top of their lungs while trying to push forward an immovable mass of people. This proved fun and bothersome for 45 minutes until the doors opened. This is where the madness begins.

The mad rush of people trying to fit through two doors is an event you can only witness by being in the middle. When you hear of people being trampeled to death at Wal-Marts in China, it is hard to believe but now I can completely understand how this could happen. The doors opened and all of the sudden you feel the pressure an intensity from a thousand people behind trying to squish through an opening all at once made for 4 people. It takes some cojones and strength to not fall down during this stampede.

As I finally make it past the doors and bypass the herd behind me I find a table for my group and we sit down, eagerly waiting our first beer of the morning. We get sat down with a few German guys. One of them, Uni, is a blast. He has friends all across the states and speaks pretty good English. We talk for a bit and we mention that we study in Belgium. He responds to this with, “Oh, so you like having sex with young children?” This comes to a surprise to us as well not knowing where the hell is he coming from. We later find out that the age of consent in Belgium is 12 years old and the European joke for Belgians is that they like to engage in activities with young people (Disgusting!!). Uni also taught us so Vital German sayings such as “Wie du frikken (pronounced V Du Freken) which mean Do you want to thave sex? … and another good saying “Du Has Schneraugen” (you have beautiful eyes). Both of these quotes prove to be extremely important in the long run especially the latter. The best non German quote that we learned from Uni was “Hallo ….. Biere!” This will always hold dear to me my friends and the countless amount of unsuspecting girls I pass this line by for a good laugh 

At the Lowenbrau tent I met a gorgeous Polish girl named Laseczka. 19 years old, spoke very little English, so of course, we hit it off. Beer really is the language which knows no boundaries (except for Islamic countries, then you better start puffing away). Her mom and dad was there and they loved me. I spoke with Laseczka & her parents for a long time. They were great & we had an amazing time. When there are liters of beer, singing, talking, and table dancing; what could go wrong!

After a few hours of knocking back some liters of Lowenbrau part of our group seems to have left the premises. We split up with part of the group going to look for our friend and the other half (Me and friend) head off on our own. From here till about the time I got to Pass out Hill is a little unclear mostly due to the beer and the fact we were walking around for 2 hours and things seem to repeat themselves.

Around 4pm Me & friend get to Pass Out Hill and do with the name suggests, Pass Out. Sleep was definitely needed since in the past 36 hours I have gotten 0 hours of good sleep and 4 hours of forced sleep upon the train to Munich.

As I wake up on the hill, I think to myself, “How the hell do I just allow myself to fall asleep on a hill in the middle of Germany with my all my credentials and important docs on me and feel comfortable with this?” I wake up with all things intact and am happy for the fact that I am in Munich, at Oktoberfest, and ready to go to my next tent to start drinking some more liters of beer.

Me and friends go to the Hippodrome tent. This is the hallmark tent of Oktoberfest. We wait on line a bit and get in and sit at one of the outside tables. We are sat down with a bunch of Chinese Germans and a German couple. My friend talks it up a lot with the German couple while I enjoy my beverage and start to dance on the table, getting people to join me as I try to rile up the crowd (Yes, I was having a blast!!). I get some tables around me to follow suit and bring some of my new Chinese German drinking buddies up with me and we all start singing and dancing upon the tables. The Hippodrome played lots of American songs towards the end of the night but one of the most memorable of course was Sinatra’s “New York, New York.” By now all of my newly acquired friends knew I was from NY so they all screamed at first “OH!!! This is you song!” We had a great time “singing” this song as well.

Me and my friend leave the Hippodrome around 11:45pm and meet up with our friends at Muncih HBF (central station). We hear about the adventures the rest of our group had and compare and contrast with how fun Oktoberfest was. We get aboard the train home, with a newly found friend, Keg, the Lowenbrau special edition Oktoberfest 5L keg, and head back for Antwerp.

The adventure ends here except for the funniest scenes I have ever seen in my life. One of my friends who went to Oktoberfest heeded the words of Uni and tried the line “Du Has Schneraugen.” This would be fine and what not except the girls were 12 years old. My friend has this look to him where he comes off so innocent yet you know something is brewing in the back of his mind. With the innocence of a virgin nun goes up to these little girls and repeat the line. I am dying laughing at the audacity of my friend to actually follow through with this. The girls just reply with “Danke” (Thanks) but keep looking back to my friend once he leaves and he has this huge grin on his face like he is very attracted to them. I was laughin my ass off for about 5 minutes while this older couple stared at me from almost suffocating from laughter.

We arrived back in Antwerp safe and sound. Only one of us lost anything and we gained many steins and souvenirs in the process. In a few words, if you EVER have the chance to experience Oktoberfest, Do It!!