A couple people have asked me recently if I actually bought a bike. I did, and here is a picture. On my computer it is labeled, "gnarbike," but feel free to save it to your computer and title it however you want.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Gnarbike
A couple people have asked me recently if I actually bought a bike. I did, and here is a picture. On my computer it is labeled, "gnarbike," but feel free to save it to your computer and title it however you want.
Back in USA
Today's blog will be a soliloquy to keep you, faithful reader, informed of my whereabouts and general happenings, and also to explain to you my thoughts and feelings on several matters about which I feel passionate. In general rant form, it will not be edited to the extent of previous entries and I will endeavor to not use the "back-space" button under any circumstances.
I am currently in a bus at US/Canadian customs. I have to pee. I'm not sure if the bathroom on the bus is functional, and there's a big sign in customs that says, "Please turn off cell phones, No Public Restrooms."
I always get nervous going through customs, even when I have nothing to hide, which is most of the time. Today the agent asked me what I had and I said, "Clothes," and he said, "Clothes you bought?" And I said, "No," then corrected myself and said, "Well, I have a hat I bought in Quebec," referring to a blue and white Quebec flag hat that I got in a grocery store in Trois Rivieres for $1.99 on which I have already gotten several compliments, including one from a guy that plays guitar and sings and is generally considered to be cool who said to me in a bar in Trois Rivieres called La Chasse Galerie (The Hunting Gallery, ideal for singles) "Nice hat."
Anyway, we're waiting for a few people still being "processed," as they term it, and then we will be on our way to the Bellingham International Airport, where playboys go to lounge and drink high-priced cocktails and where several scenes of the upcoming James Bond movie have been shot1.
It is extremely hot in the bus despite the air conditioning, and this is because my seat is angled into the sun. I chose the seat I am sitting in precisely because it wouldn't be angled into the sun due to its location on the East side of bus the and our Southern trajectory towards Seattle, but my precise calculations have been disrupted by our stopping at the United States customs checkpoint.
The bus driver, who wanted to be out of here by 5:30pm, just walked up and down the bus counting people, and exclaimed in his raspy but somewhat booming voice, "We're outta here," paused emphatically and said, "It's just 5:30."
One thing that is kind of amazing about this bus is the fact that it has wireless. I don't really know how that works, but I'm assuming it has something to do with a router that doesn't receive its signal from a jack in the wall, but rather wirelessly.
We are now passing an Exxon station just outside of Blaine, and it appears that a gallon of unleaded gasoline costs $4.46 or $4.49. I already forgot. People have been making an outrageous stink about gasoline prices for the past year or so, but I am still of the school of people whose motto is, "I don't really care." This is probably because I don't have a car.
In other news I will be hanging out with my friend Barry tonight, hopefully drinking tall cans of cheap beer and enjoying the extremely mild midsummer Seattle evening temperatures. Barry leaves for Minnesota in two or three days and then goes to Chile for four months, so apparently he is having some sort of going away party tonight. It is highly probable that about 10 minutes after I post this blog Barry, who gets blogs sent to his Blackberry on Google reader, will make a comment about his shout-out, or mention, or whatever you want to call it, in this blog.
Tomorrow I will be moving into my new room at my friend Dan's house, and pursuing with mild enthusiasm the prospect of getting a job. Prospects right now include: bussing tables at Ivar's, maybe, but probably not, driving the bicycle rick-shaws you see waiting to pick people up at the Bainbridge ferry and take them to Mariners games, and hopefully, writing or toiling for The Stranger, Seattle's only "alternative" newspaper. The Stranger is obviously, at least to me, the ideal scenario, though I could see how many could find glamor in the rick-shaw scenario, especially if he or she has seen the episode of Seinfeld in which Kramer endeavors to pull people on a rick-shaw through New York City, and fails wonderfully. Actually, now that I think about it, Kramer doesn't pull the rick-shaw, but rather holds tryouts with the city's homeless to see if he can find someone to pull it, and it ends up getting stolen by a grubby-faced man named "Rusty." My memory with that show is already fading rapidly.
In other news, yesterday I went to my first nude beach in North America. I went last year to a beach in San Francisco where there were some old men naked and a few girls topless but I don't really count that. This beach, Wreck Beach, in Vancouver, was truly a nude beach. Every five feet was a dangling weiner or a pair of breasts that seemed to be screaming for a bra. It wasn't unpleasant though, for the most part, like that last sentence makes it out to be. It really wasn't unpleasant, despite the fact that the beach was absolutely packed and there was one particularly disgusting subject who was wearing an unbuttoned beach shirt that had chili peppers all over it, and nothing else, no pants-nothing, who strolled up and down the beach various times much to our dismay. I had never in my life seen so many breasts and genitals in real life, and you always kind of expect it to be some kind of extraordinary experience, but in the end it just gets kind of boring and vaguely disgusting at times. Which is not to say I'm against nudity. I am completely pro-nudity, or at least would be if I had to take a stance on the matter, I guess, well, I just don't really care. Kind of like I don't really care about gas prices (I wish I could delete the gas price sentence because I feel like it makes me sound like a hippie).
Anyway, we're just pulling into the Bellingham airport right now, and I can see a troop of playboys drinking martini's and standing on top of a Hummer All-Terrain vehicle in the distance. The sun is once again on my body and it is very hot. I suspect either the air-condition is being over powered or it's not on to begin with.
That's about all I have to say for now.
Deuces,
Boosh Clown
1This is false.
UPDATE: I am currently heart-broken due to the fact that I was really stoked to be able to listen to the songs, "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa," "Oh Yoko," and "Homecoming" by Vampire Weekend, John Lennon, and the Teenagers respectively, but have just discovered that I have absolutely no fucking clue where my head-phones are, which means that unless I start accosting random bus mates to use their head phones, I will not be able to listen to music. This is far more tragic than you can comprehend. I think I just felt a couple hairs on my head turn gray.
Good Day.
I am currently in a bus at US/Canadian customs. I have to pee. I'm not sure if the bathroom on the bus is functional, and there's a big sign in customs that says, "Please turn off cell phones, No Public Restrooms."
I always get nervous going through customs, even when I have nothing to hide, which is most of the time. Today the agent asked me what I had and I said, "Clothes," and he said, "Clothes you bought?" And I said, "No," then corrected myself and said, "Well, I have a hat I bought in Quebec," referring to a blue and white Quebec flag hat that I got in a grocery store in Trois Rivieres for $1.99 on which I have already gotten several compliments, including one from a guy that plays guitar and sings and is generally considered to be cool who said to me in a bar in Trois Rivieres called La Chasse Galerie (The Hunting Gallery, ideal for singles) "Nice hat."
Anyway, we're waiting for a few people still being "processed," as they term it, and then we will be on our way to the Bellingham International Airport, where playboys go to lounge and drink high-priced cocktails and where several scenes of the upcoming James Bond movie have been shot1.
It is extremely hot in the bus despite the air conditioning, and this is because my seat is angled into the sun. I chose the seat I am sitting in precisely because it wouldn't be angled into the sun due to its location on the East side of bus the and our Southern trajectory towards Seattle, but my precise calculations have been disrupted by our stopping at the United States customs checkpoint.
The bus driver, who wanted to be out of here by 5:30pm, just walked up and down the bus counting people, and exclaimed in his raspy but somewhat booming voice, "We're outta here," paused emphatically and said, "It's just 5:30."
One thing that is kind of amazing about this bus is the fact that it has wireless. I don't really know how that works, but I'm assuming it has something to do with a router that doesn't receive its signal from a jack in the wall, but rather wirelessly.
We are now passing an Exxon station just outside of Blaine, and it appears that a gallon of unleaded gasoline costs $4.46 or $4.49. I already forgot. People have been making an outrageous stink about gasoline prices for the past year or so, but I am still of the school of people whose motto is, "I don't really care." This is probably because I don't have a car.
In other news I will be hanging out with my friend Barry tonight, hopefully drinking tall cans of cheap beer and enjoying the extremely mild midsummer Seattle evening temperatures. Barry leaves for Minnesota in two or three days and then goes to Chile for four months, so apparently he is having some sort of going away party tonight. It is highly probable that about 10 minutes after I post this blog Barry, who gets blogs sent to his Blackberry on Google reader, will make a comment about his shout-out, or mention, or whatever you want to call it, in this blog.
Tomorrow I will be moving into my new room at my friend Dan's house, and pursuing with mild enthusiasm the prospect of getting a job. Prospects right now include: bussing tables at Ivar's, maybe, but probably not, driving the bicycle rick-shaws you see waiting to pick people up at the Bainbridge ferry and take them to Mariners games, and hopefully, writing or toiling for The Stranger, Seattle's only "alternative" newspaper. The Stranger is obviously, at least to me, the ideal scenario, though I could see how many could find glamor in the rick-shaw scenario, especially if he or she has seen the episode of Seinfeld in which Kramer endeavors to pull people on a rick-shaw through New York City, and fails wonderfully. Actually, now that I think about it, Kramer doesn't pull the rick-shaw, but rather holds tryouts with the city's homeless to see if he can find someone to pull it, and it ends up getting stolen by a grubby-faced man named "Rusty." My memory with that show is already fading rapidly.
In other news, yesterday I went to my first nude beach in North America. I went last year to a beach in San Francisco where there were some old men naked and a few girls topless but I don't really count that. This beach, Wreck Beach, in Vancouver, was truly a nude beach. Every five feet was a dangling weiner or a pair of breasts that seemed to be screaming for a bra. It wasn't unpleasant though, for the most part, like that last sentence makes it out to be. It really wasn't unpleasant, despite the fact that the beach was absolutely packed and there was one particularly disgusting subject who was wearing an unbuttoned beach shirt that had chili peppers all over it, and nothing else, no pants-nothing, who strolled up and down the beach various times much to our dismay. I had never in my life seen so many breasts and genitals in real life, and you always kind of expect it to be some kind of extraordinary experience, but in the end it just gets kind of boring and vaguely disgusting at times. Which is not to say I'm against nudity. I am completely pro-nudity, or at least would be if I had to take a stance on the matter, I guess, well, I just don't really care. Kind of like I don't really care about gas prices (I wish I could delete the gas price sentence because I feel like it makes me sound like a hippie).
Anyway, we're just pulling into the Bellingham airport right now, and I can see a troop of playboys drinking martini's and standing on top of a Hummer All-Terrain vehicle in the distance. The sun is once again on my body and it is very hot. I suspect either the air-condition is being over powered or it's not on to begin with.
That's about all I have to say for now.
Deuces,
Boosh Clown
1This is false.
UPDATE: I am currently heart-broken due to the fact that I was really stoked to be able to listen to the songs, "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa," "Oh Yoko," and "Homecoming" by Vampire Weekend, John Lennon, and the Teenagers respectively, but have just discovered that I have absolutely no fucking clue where my head-phones are, which means that unless I start accosting random bus mates to use their head phones, I will not be able to listen to music. This is far more tragic than you can comprehend. I think I just felt a couple hairs on my head turn gray.
Good Day.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Word...
BITNB is in VANCOUVER!!!!!!! The West coast is the best coast and all that stuff. Had a sweet flight from Edmonton to Vancouver, drinking vodka sodas and enjoying sweeping views of the Canadian Rockies. Now we're on scene in Kitsilano with BITNB's Chief Canadian Correspondent, Jenny Newman.
"Make sure you give us some shout-outs," says Jenny.
"Dude, I just called you the Chief Canadian Correspondent," says I.
The other day BITNB was dragged kicking and screaming (see: we were actually hella stoked) to the Sex and the City Movie. Instead of making comments in my defense for seeing this movie, I am actually going to comment on something very positive, and that is the fact that the movie contains the epic song, "New York Girls" by Morningwood (!) that starts with the even more epic lyrics:
"Hey, where you from?"
"I'm from New York."
So awesome.
Anyway, BITNB will be heading back to Seattle on Sunday or Monday and setting up shop at our good friend Dan's house who lives near the University of Washington. We are so excited for this development. This means ALL of July and ALL of August for ripping it at Madison Park, playing MUFF at the IMA fields, and riding our sweet Navaro Divano bicycle on the Burke Gilman, shedding tens of pounds and developing calf muscles that help us elevate like Shawn Bradley.
One question many of you might have is: Will BITNB achieve cell-phone positive status when we get back to Seattle?
The answer? Probably not, though the outcome may be affected by the type of job we procure and just how lucrative it is (I realize I'm really wearing this "royal we" shit out).
Anyway, we'll keep you posted.
Hasta luego,
Boosh Clown
p.s. Here's the "New York Girls" song in case you were interested. Note the hella sweet graphic.
"Make sure you give us some shout-outs," says Jenny.
"Dude, I just called you the Chief Canadian Correspondent," says I.
The other day BITNB was dragged kicking and screaming (see: we were actually hella stoked) to the Sex and the City Movie. Instead of making comments in my defense for seeing this movie, I am actually going to comment on something very positive, and that is the fact that the movie contains the epic song, "New York Girls" by Morningwood (!) that starts with the even more epic lyrics:
"Hey, where you from?"
"I'm from New York."
So awesome.
Anyway, BITNB will be heading back to Seattle on Sunday or Monday and setting up shop at our good friend Dan's house who lives near the University of Washington. We are so excited for this development. This means ALL of July and ALL of August for ripping it at Madison Park, playing MUFF at the IMA fields, and riding our sweet Navaro Divano bicycle on the Burke Gilman, shedding tens of pounds and developing calf muscles that help us elevate like Shawn Bradley.
One question many of you might have is: Will BITNB achieve cell-phone positive status when we get back to Seattle?
The answer? Probably not, though the outcome may be affected by the type of job we procure and just how lucrative it is (I realize I'm really wearing this "royal we" shit out).
Anyway, we'll keep you posted.
Hasta luego,
Boosh Clown
p.s. Here's the "New York Girls" song in case you were interested. Note the hella sweet graphic.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
You Got me Slippin'...Tumblin'....
This blog is falling apart. I'm in EDMONTON, ALBERTA!!!!!!! I just pet horses and played Bacci Ball. I'm not eating refined sugar for a day so I'm currently drinking pure fruit juice. Rippin' it. Party. Also got a massage today. More to come later...........
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
Wetzler Father/Son Canadian Super Tour 2008 Part 1
We have a penchant for dramatic titles here at Blog is the New Blog, but this one might be our first that is actually an understatement. Over the past week or so my father and I have motored our way up from New Bremen, Ohio, to the beautiful walled city of Quebec, Canada. We have met more than a few trials and tribulations along the way, all braved semi-fearlessly in our never ending Northeasterly trajectory.
Today, like I said, I come to you from Quebec City, but to start things off properly we have to go back to the site of our previous blog entry and slideshow mania: New Bremen, Ohio.
From New Bremen, Ohio, Harry and I got a ride to Sandusky, Ohio, located on the Southern shore of Lake Eerie, where we took an 11-minute plane ride to Pelee Island, Ontario. Pelee Island is famous for two things: It's the southernmost point in Canada (south of most of Northern California according to one poster), and its got a winery. I suggested we definitely take a winery tour or at the very least do some tasting and Harry acquiesced. We sampled several of their more popular selections and Harry, though not the most avid of drinkers, exclaimed after tasting their iced wine variety, "Goddamn, that's good shit." I was appalled.
The hour and a half journey from Pelee Island to Leamington, Ontario, one of the most southern cities on the mainland and considered "The Tomato Capital of Canada," was made aboard the MV Jimaan, a strong, seaworthy vessel whose name means "Canoe" in the local native tongue (I assure you she was more than a canoe).
Leamington, was, well, one of the worst places in the world. I know that sounds a little harsh, but as a respected travel writer I am not paid to be anything less than frank1. Our hotel was right across the street from a Wal-Mart. This onslaught of commercialism was endearing at first after having spent so many days amidst endless fields of wheat and soy, but soon inflicted in me a mild, unsettling feeling I can only describe as "wretched nausea." My visit to the Dollarama, literally located next door, did nothing to improve the state of affairs.
I will say this about Leamington: the waterfront area is somewhat beautiful, and I was amazed and excited to find people actually surfing on Lake Eerie. There were swells! Swells in a lake! I don't know if I saw either of the surfers we saw on the water get what one might call, "a legitimate ride," but it was awesome to see them out there just the same.
To get to Toronto from Leamington, we took about a 5-hour Greyhound bus ride. While waiting for the bus, a woman and what appeared to be her mate rolled up beside us in a black Chevy Silverado, rolled down the window, and asked, "Do you know where the Wal-Mart is?" I blinked a few times and then thought to myself, "Wow. Yes, I know exactly where the Wal-Mart is." The couple pulled away in their truck with sound directions and I experienced what it would be like to be a Leamington local, at which point I was gripped by another wave of nausea and my left calf muscle cramped slightly.
The greyhound ride was amazing. I love buses. Ever since my trip through Central and South America they have held a special place in my heart. This bus ride was no different. Leamington gave way to more corn fields, but then the scenery got a little more interesting near London, Ontario. The woman sitting next to me for part of the ride was quite the chatty cathy so I learned more than I ever thought I would about Southwestern Ontario, for example, that all the Crown Victoria police cars are manufactured in plant just outside of London. After a while of talking to the woman I put on my headphones to listen to some music I had just recently put on my MP3 player, not to be rude, but just because I thought conversation time with the woman had drawn to an end.
Apparently I was wrong.
The addition of my headphones to the scenario appeared to cause her much vexation. She would periodically lean in to me like she was going to say something and then, realizing I had my headphones on, withdraw in frustration. Finally it got to be to much for her and she leaned in and said in a loud voice, "See that over there? That's a new landfill. That's where they dump all of Toronto's garbage now. They just truck it out here. I don't like it one bit."
"That must be a lot of garbage," I said, and she nodded, satisfied with my answer.
We only spent one night in Toronto, but it is a cool city. One of the highlights was actually our hotel, which featured an indoor swimming pool, workout room, and sauna, all three of which I used on at least one occasion. In the workout room I decided to relive my days as an elliptical trainer aficionado, definitely scaring some of the other exercisers with my rapid RPM's and fierce, periodic grunting. They were obviously not used to such levels of intensity.
In Toronto Harry and I rented a car, which is where our BITNB Wetzler Father/Son Canadian Super Tour 2008 Part 1 entry will end today. Next it's Bloomfield, Ottawa, and Quebec!
A plus!
-Boosh Clown
1....
Today, like I said, I come to you from Quebec City, but to start things off properly we have to go back to the site of our previous blog entry and slideshow mania: New Bremen, Ohio.
From New Bremen, Ohio, Harry and I got a ride to Sandusky, Ohio, located on the Southern shore of Lake Eerie, where we took an 11-minute plane ride to Pelee Island, Ontario. Pelee Island is famous for two things: It's the southernmost point in Canada (south of most of Northern California according to one poster), and its got a winery. I suggested we definitely take a winery tour or at the very least do some tasting and Harry acquiesced. We sampled several of their more popular selections and Harry, though not the most avid of drinkers, exclaimed after tasting their iced wine variety, "Goddamn, that's good shit." I was appalled.
The hour and a half journey from Pelee Island to Leamington, Ontario, one of the most southern cities on the mainland and considered "The Tomato Capital of Canada," was made aboard the MV Jimaan, a strong, seaworthy vessel whose name means "Canoe" in the local native tongue (I assure you she was more than a canoe).
Leamington, was, well, one of the worst places in the world. I know that sounds a little harsh, but as a respected travel writer I am not paid to be anything less than frank1. Our hotel was right across the street from a Wal-Mart. This onslaught of commercialism was endearing at first after having spent so many days amidst endless fields of wheat and soy, but soon inflicted in me a mild, unsettling feeling I can only describe as "wretched nausea." My visit to the Dollarama, literally located next door, did nothing to improve the state of affairs.
I will say this about Leamington: the waterfront area is somewhat beautiful, and I was amazed and excited to find people actually surfing on Lake Eerie. There were swells! Swells in a lake! I don't know if I saw either of the surfers we saw on the water get what one might call, "a legitimate ride," but it was awesome to see them out there just the same.
To get to Toronto from Leamington, we took about a 5-hour Greyhound bus ride. While waiting for the bus, a woman and what appeared to be her mate rolled up beside us in a black Chevy Silverado, rolled down the window, and asked, "Do you know where the Wal-Mart is?" I blinked a few times and then thought to myself, "Wow. Yes, I know exactly where the Wal-Mart is." The couple pulled away in their truck with sound directions and I experienced what it would be like to be a Leamington local, at which point I was gripped by another wave of nausea and my left calf muscle cramped slightly.
The greyhound ride was amazing. I love buses. Ever since my trip through Central and South America they have held a special place in my heart. This bus ride was no different. Leamington gave way to more corn fields, but then the scenery got a little more interesting near London, Ontario. The woman sitting next to me for part of the ride was quite the chatty cathy so I learned more than I ever thought I would about Southwestern Ontario, for example, that all the Crown Victoria police cars are manufactured in plant just outside of London. After a while of talking to the woman I put on my headphones to listen to some music I had just recently put on my MP3 player, not to be rude, but just because I thought conversation time with the woman had drawn to an end.
Apparently I was wrong.
The addition of my headphones to the scenario appeared to cause her much vexation. She would periodically lean in to me like she was going to say something and then, realizing I had my headphones on, withdraw in frustration. Finally it got to be to much for her and she leaned in and said in a loud voice, "See that over there? That's a new landfill. That's where they dump all of Toronto's garbage now. They just truck it out here. I don't like it one bit."
"That must be a lot of garbage," I said, and she nodded, satisfied with my answer.
We only spent one night in Toronto, but it is a cool city. One of the highlights was actually our hotel, which featured an indoor swimming pool, workout room, and sauna, all three of which I used on at least one occasion. In the workout room I decided to relive my days as an elliptical trainer aficionado, definitely scaring some of the other exercisers with my rapid RPM's and fierce, periodic grunting. They were obviously not used to such levels of intensity.
In Toronto Harry and I rented a car, which is where our BITNB Wetzler Father/Son Canadian Super Tour 2008 Part 1 entry will end today. Next it's Bloomfield, Ottawa, and Quebec!
A plus!
-Boosh Clown
1....
It's June!
I know it's been a long while since the last update, and though we're in Quebec right now, I wanted to post the scintillating pictures of Ohio I promised so long ago. To see them, head here.
P.S. You might want to sit down for this....
Anyway, like I said, we're in Quebec, and it is fairly rad (see: so rad). I know I also promised a Blog is the New Blog Canadian Edition, and that is on its way, I just need some time to upload and search through all the photos of Harry beer-bonging alongside scantily clad coeds. So stay tuned.
Hope everyone is doing well!
-Boosh Clown
P.S. You might want to sit down for this....
Anyway, like I said, we're in Quebec, and it is fairly rad (see: so rad). I know I also promised a Blog is the New Blog Canadian Edition, and that is on its way, I just need some time to upload and search through all the photos of Harry beer-bonging alongside scantily clad coeds. So stay tuned.
Hope everyone is doing well!
-Boosh Clown
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