I don't have class on Tuesdays, I haven't done shit today, and I feel fantastic.
After I awoke just shy of 1p, I made myself a PB, Nutella and Jeezy, got back in bed, and watched the series premiere of Boardwalk Empire (SideReel is keeping me sane). I liked what I saw. The production value is phenomenal, and the setting is inherently intriguing -- the Volstead Act, the AC boardwalk long before it got Jersey Shoreized, Al Capone before he was Al Capone -- it's American history at its sexiest point in time. But I've got my misgivings. Mostly just that too much happened in that first episode. Like 10 dudes died by the hands of 10 other different dudes. I realize, Terence Winter, that life was cheap before the sexual revolution, but sa-low down. Let shit fester a little.
But what do I know. He's the one that writes $20 million HBO pilots, and I'm the one that writes about myself on a blog.
So I'm sure you're dying to know what's going on with me. Not a whole lot, frankly. Been out of bed twice so far today.
After Boardwalk Empire, I imported and organized all the photos I've taken here. Almost all of them are of places or food because I'm not trying to be camera guy every night I go out. All you other straight 20-year-old men know exactly what I'm talking about. But I'll make the obligatory Facebook album and you all might 'next' your way through it in 90 seconds because there are almost no pictures of the people I've been carousing with. And that's the way the cookie crumbles.
Armed with all these imported pictures, I've decided to introduce two new media-interactive series on Not Very Tall But Slow: "Things Thursday" and "Bomb Food I've Eaten Abroad."
Things Thursday won't be limited to Thursdays, but if the muse strikes me on a Thursday the alliteration is at least semi-fulfilled. In a nutshell, Things Thursday will be pictures of things I do and/or do not like about Prague (or other places) accompanied by the funniest explanations EVER. EPIC.
"Bomb Food I've Eaten Abroad" will feature pictures of anything I've recently injested that I suspect has residual Soviet nuclear capacity. LOL. But seriously, it'll be pictures and stories of good-ass (or bad-ass, if I find something so terribly worthy) food I encounter. And you know I know food.
To recap the weekend:
Friday:
I got my debit card! Oh wait, no I didn't. I got a toy debit card with only my first name on it.
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| Who am I, fucking Seal? |
But of course I still tried to activate this plastic microcosm of irony and frustration BECAUSE I'VE BEEN IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY FOR TWO WEEKS WITHOUT ACCESS TO ANY OF MY OWN MONEY. I said this and more to Rich, the TD Bank customer service representative, and after he listened to me berate his job, his moral compass, and his company, he put me through to his supervisor, Nancy.
Nancy was "real sorry" I was havin' all these troubles. She was also real unable to be of any assistance. After she overrode the system and temporarily activated my child's play debit card, she hung up without telling me what my PIN was. Thanks, Nance. The only reason I'm not still crazy furious about this and not still trying to blog TD Bank into the ground is because a functional card arrived on Monday and now I can misspend my own money.
So as soon as I finished hassling Rich and Nancy, I dolled myself up for the group-wide Opera night, which was captivating, riveting, inspiring, hilarious, you name it. **Thumbs Down + Mouth Fart Noise**
Considering this opera was sung in Czech, my eyes weren't exactly glued to the stage, but from the general dramatic emotion on display, I could glean that a regular-Josef type was feelin' lowly, and then he struck a deal with a moustachioed, miscreant fellow in a cape, who before long over-sung our man Josef through the stages of Czech hell, one of which I'm almost certain was breakfast.
After the opera (technically, after half of the opera), I left and reconvened with some folks at the dorm before departing for a pub -- U Sudu, a former wine cellar turned pub/smoky maze of corridors connecting a number of filling stations -- followed by a club -- Lucerna, a Friday-Saturday hotspot that bumps strictly 80s/90s music. The dance floor at Lucerna looked and sounded eerily like a Girl Talk concert sans the toilet paper dispensers and sweaty Greg Gillis screaming nonsense into a microphone. I had a fine time at Lucerna, but I'm officially over the club scene.
Having logged more than 3 weeks time in the local debauchery factories, I've determined that Prague clubs are a great place to spend money and then maybe get ass. Anyone that knows me knows I'm very good at spending money and not very good at getting ass. And that's my cross to bear. So Saturday saw more of the same from ya boy, who spent waaay too much money and didn't even sniff getting ass (there's a getting in there).
I decided to stay in Saturday night and recharge the batts, which was a wholeheartedly good decision. I didn't hear any rave reviews about the night, which always makes me feel better about not being included (but if someone had said something was sweet, you know I would have regretted the decision).
Sunday was a bit more eventful, but I've been working on this particular post for almost 36 hours, and I think it's time to set it free. Look forward to Sunday's recap, as well as the inaugural editions of "Things Thursday" and "Bomb Food I've Eaten Abroad" in the coming days.
For now, a stack of shit on passed out Jake takes us out.
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