What's the beef ?

I haven't posted for a while due to the fact that I've actually been busy for once in my sad life. I've been meaning to say something about American beef , but kind of missed the whole boat with that. Suffice to say that's Korea is having one of it's little social burps and it'll all soon pass. So instead of giving my opinions on the inherent xenophobia, racism and anti americanism so blatantly displayed by the recent mind fart the Koreans are having , I'm going to talk about "Korean bbq".

Personally I can't wait for it to pass so that one could actually get some decent and cheap meat around here. Where I come from(the glorious country of South Africa) we stuff ourselves full of the flesh of innocent animals frequently as a cultural ritual known as the braai. Koreans pride themselves on the whole bulgogi/galbi/sam gup sal barbecue thing...but a braai in comparisson makes the whole country look like a nation of vegitarians.

For an introduction to the braai and just about everything you need to know about South African culture and life, you could be worse off that watching this video.



or this..



compared to this...




And that's all I have to say about that without swearing.

A request to Korean men : Rape me less .

I'm not Richard Leakey or anything , but I reckon that anthropologically speaking there are some form of etiquette that transcend all cultures.

Specifically I'm talking about the etiquette that one ought to really ask before they fellate someone , or at the very least , wait until they are awake.

The two Korean men sleeping next to me at the Jim Jul bang did not necessarily prescribe to the same view .

I'm not making this up. This is what I woke up to this morning.

I was far too hungover (still drunk really) to make any big scenes . I just pushed them away stood up and stumbled around trying to get my bearings. It was my first time sleeping in one of these places and will certainly be my last. I'm not homophobic or anything it's just for me when it comes to being raped , less is more .

Anyway after you wake up to find some strange mens mouths on your *beep* the last thing you want to be surrounded with is naked men everywhere . I quickly found out the worst place in the entire world to be ,should one not be interested in being surrouned by naked men , is a Jim jul bang. I was not in possesion of a great deal of respect for my fellow man to start with , but I've kind of taken it to the "endorse" genocide level today . Be careful kids .

The first global Yongin (an ode )

For some reason each Korean town seems to have tacked on something to their name to give the general character of the city. "Happy Suwon" for example .

"The first global" Yongin. That's the official name of my little nook of the world. It's a pretty special feeling to know that of all the global Yongin's we were the first. But I do at times query the validity of this title.

I'm not sure exactly what is global about my town. I could see the connection if perhaps by global they meant "not in the slightest sense global at all". Then it would make perfect sense. We do have a mcdonalds and a dunkin' donuts. They were pointed out to me on the first day I got here by my benefactors with a great sense of pride, as if to say "See ? Just like home!". But that really is the extent of it.

My theory is that in a liberal and enthusiastic sense of aggrandizement some folks somewhere decided they would include the concept of "First" and "global" and the rest was lost in translation.

To say Yongin was famous for many things would be akin to child molesting the truth. We are however the prestigious home of "Everland". The disney world of Korea. Except one needs to remove all the connotations of "fun" or "excitement" for the comparison to do justice .

About the most interesting thing about everland is that I know some Russian people who work for them as dancers of the "European extravaganza". They come onto stage in bleached blonde hair (contractually required) wearing traditional European garb to help perpetuate silly Korean stereotypes about a world they blissfully wish to remain ignorant of. Although sometimes seasonly the premise of their existance is less cultural and more sexual fetish (see picture). But we love and expect that about Korea , don't we ?



Yongin also has the Korean cultural village. I'd visit it except the flaw is I suspect the place is like a concentrated mix of Korean culture. Something surely no sane man would willingly edure and surely not something that should have the word "attraction" attached to it.

That's it ! No point writing this Korean blog anymore. Everything that needs to be said about Korea and ESL has been said in the form of this video.


(Nah , out of spite to my fellow man I'll still write this blog.)

Kicking it in Geomchon !

It's Friday (Or : reasons to laugh off serious thoughts of suicide for the time being)

Friday .

Just listen to the sound of it.

Friiiiidaaaaay.

If my penis was a musical instrument played by the perky mouths of angelic virgins , that's what it would sound like .

Aaaaaaah.

I don't know what it is exactly that I love about Friday so much, but I do know it bares some proportional correlation to how much exactly I totally hate the rest of the week. I'm a liberal minded , caring sort of guy , but if Monday through Thursday were Jewish ...I'd applaud the holocaust.

Friday is the day that I stride into work at least 5 minutes early. Whenever I do this I can never help but expect applause for my diligence. It's never forthcoming but I hardly let that dampen my spirit. Friday is the day my fellow co workers can expect to receive some light hearted banter from me laced in a general cheerful demeanor.

Oh how happy I am on Fridays. The promise of the weekend , although a mere few shorts days , they whisper to me of sweet debauchery and cathartic freedoms. Of feet dipped into forbidden pools of alcohol laced with lust. Of sleep so deep and long that dreams can morph into dreams of dreams. Sweet , sweet Friday.

Today is such a day. Already I have planned a weekend of drinking with little filippino girls in a town called Songtan , with hearts as big as their disproportionably huge chests. Oh how they'll laugh at my jokes and point out my far too unfrequently heralded handsomeness. Then when recovered , followed up with a day of frollocking in the newly warmed Son , tennis racquest in hand and then...behold....Seoul ...lest you forget we shall meet again ! We have business to finish , you and me !

You smudged neon lipsticked, bitch of a town !

Spring

Isn't it glorious ?

Nature bursting into life in a orgy of color , while the sun warms our souls. The promise of short exhilarating evening walks and even shorter more exhilarating skirts. I'm in far too good a mood to find anything bad to write about Korea today.
Allow me to recover from this strange sensation of non bitterness and gather myself for a moment or two before I get a grip and berate humanity and the universe in a more appropriate and deserving manner .

Jake : friend/terrorist

Korea is probably as well known for it's ethical treatment of dogs as Adolf Hitler is for throwing a great Bar mitzvah. That's however something deserving of it's own topic. I recently recieved the news that my good pal "Jake" the boxer finally decided he's deserving of a rest. I say that because I just can't believe death having anything to do with it. Even death itself wouldn't dare step into Jake's territory .

So rather than write anything about it I thought I'd just include something I wrote about my him when he was still terrorising the living.




I've got a dog named “Jake” .

Jake and me have enjoyed 10 years of the most profound and respectful companionship . Let me categorically for the record state , Jake is the worlds most awesome dog .

Jake is a man's dog. I wouldn't describe him as a gentleman, as he is prone to random bouts of humping things. He is also known for inappropriate and unapologetic farting, erections and public urination. But then again , so am I.

One certainly can't accuse him of ever giving any one a warm and friendly reception at my gate. He also on a daily basis engages in what one might describe as“a good bark". Therefore it's safe to say Jake isn't much liked by the neighBORES . In fact I am sure his name is slipped into conversations involving Joseph Stalin and Adolf Hitler at their dinner tables. But fekk them.

As I said , Jake is a mans dog. He wont lick you in the face like some pansy ass gay dog(I'm sorry, I'm not homophobic , but Jake sure is), rather he'll ensure he sits upright and dignified by your side, in a show of solidarity. He doesn't solve problems with winging, chunking, sniveling or moaning, he solves them with his teeth. I've yet to see a problem in this universe that jake couldn't solve with his teeth in fact. He doesn't beg for food , he TRUSTS I'd never let him go without(out of a healthy fear of him). He doesn't nibble bones and bury them, he crunches them one bite. If a poodle ever crossed his path, depending on gender he'd either eat it , or shag it(but he'd never call her after ).

I love my dog very, very much. We share a mutual hatred for cats, relationship commitment and bathing. Not in the same way an Australian might love a sheep ...but as much as a man could love anything short of bestiality. But I've come to a troubling revelation ....

Jake is racist.

Seriously, Jake does not like black people. By “not like” what I mean is “wants to kill”. In fairness to Jake the listing of things he does like, would be very short . Consisting mostly of a variety of bones, me, drooling and sex. But he seems to have a particularly developed distaste for black people. Black people, and being washed .

I am not sure of Jake's reasoning here. He is what can be described as a complicated dog. Even the black gardener, responsible for giving the dogs their food, risks his life on daily basis. Persons of color assuming they may approach within 5 miles from the house find themselves sadly mistaken and dangerously misinformed. I am sure I would receive literally a truck full of court summons, were the postman not too afraid to approach.

As something of a social scientist myself, I have searched long and hard for the possible motives behind Jake's bigotry, and have decided the fault must lie with me. Somehow I must have projected some kind of detectable fear of black people. Possible subconscious as black people lost all their street credibility the day 50 cent started wearing fur coats, dancing, being bodily conscious and hanging with a group of men called G-Unit(G for GAY. I certainly don't feel consciously afraid of black people. I've always said I'm black from the waist down, and when it comes to the idea of sleeping with women....I'm an afri-Can, Not an Afri-Can't.

Should I ever have the illustrious pleasure to again meet Mr Mandela (yes , I've been introduced, although he probably doesn't talk about it as much as me), I will warn him to be astute, because there seems no limit to Jake's ambition to bite all black people at least once.

Sadly, with Jakes advanced years, I feel he will meet his end before he reconciles . He will go up to the dog kennel in the sky where some virgin poodles will await him.I say virgin poodles because I'm pretty sure Jake given the choice Jake would be Muslim. He'd like the idea of using terror to fulfill your agenda. I expect upon this fateful and sad day that's Jakes allows death to walk up to the heavens, to hear audible cheers from the local township. I would not be entirely surprised to find people traveling from far and wide to urinate on his tombstone , which will read :




Here lies Jake. I still wouldn't come that close if I were you.




Rest in peace my boy .