Monday, 31 May 2010
Sunday, 30 May 2010
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
It's erection time in Korea again, and you've never seen schlock-noxious until you've witnessed a Korean erection campaign. These goddamned trucks have been driving around and waking my haggard ass up every morning for a week now, cranking out garbage music. Seogwipo is a town with a blue-collar fisherman demographic. I'm not sure if the average middle-aged fisherman is swayed by two guys prancing around at a bloody intersection. Geez louise. Make it end. Great choreography though, keep it up guys. In my opinion, the money shot comes at 00:09 into the first video.
I believe that my scoot's engine may have dramatically and partially exploded yesterday, while I was on my way home from Home Plus. Topographically lucky, I was pretty much at the top of a long, gentle slope, so was able to coast/push her fat ass home. This morning, I coasted her further down the hill, to the scoot shop. When I came back a couple of hours later, I was shocked to see My Precious with her innards strewn every-bloody-where. Going back tomorrow, but that shit looks like it's gonna be dear. Thinking of you, Whitey.
What is Busan? I've been there a few times in the past, but I never really got a feel for the place. There are lots of people there. And tall buildings. And Favelas. And tacky love motels. Something happening in the news this week, but I forget what it was.
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
We stayed in a classic Korean love motel (separate rooms, that's how we roll), which was ergonomically designed for extra-marital affairs, as they are. My natty dreads are in fact rope curtains designed to conceal cheating cars from prying eyes. Don't ask don't tell. Excited to get off the island for the weekend, we drank an inordinate amount of girly drinks - the battle cry for the weekend was "We are SO like the Sex and the City girls!" In other news, I had my 1st-14th mojito ever. Damn!
I've said it before, but I've definitely become a country boy, and I spent the whole weekend gazing up at tall buildings muttering "Daing, whudja lookit that-un!"
Anyways, we each got pretty messy-drunk at various points, god love us. At one point, one chatty bartender grabbed a microphone and announced to the capacity crowd, while pointing at me "He's a RACIST! A RACIST! He doesn't like Korean girls! He only likes white girls!" He got me good.
The airport was bloody jammed with flight-stealing schoolkids as usual - trying to get on or off Jeju with anything less than a few weeks notice is often not possible. Whinge. I was tempted to start answering "I'm from mind your own fuckin' business" to the incessant and ubiquitous Korean schoolkid sentence fragment "Oooh where prom?", but thought better of it.
Oh yeah, we spotted the ground crew swapping out a tire on our plane before we boarded. This alone didn't overly concern me, but watching Clipboard Guy (far left waving guy) discover, study, palm, then drop a superfluous bolt down a grate while we taxied out did, a bit. The flight to Busan takes but a few brief moments, barely enough time to sneak some well-concealed Jack into the complimentary Coke. Rebels us. Spotted Chuja-do. P.S. First class, bitches!