Blog Interupted
This weekend should be commended for its sheer, Leaving Las Vegas style drunkery, which made for some choice moments, both good (all kinds of spontaneous wacky shennanigans, including some rare nostalgic instances) and bad (Yesterday afternoon shall henceforth be known as Black Saturday, a.k.a The Day The Music Died). Hangover aside, the first order of business: The One they call Fen-Ton.

Fenton is likely the best thing to come out of Canada, since-- well, ever (special consideration goes Wolverine and The Band). I don't say this because he danced in a cage to some seriously awful music, but largely because he was slam dancing to Who Let The Dogs Out, and throwing diminuitive Koreans about willy-nilly with his tree-trunk like limbs. Also he pointed to Caleb and told me not to believe his lies, much as the man from Memento reminded himself via a prominent tattoo. Later he revealed some of his sophisticated philsophy on Korean culture. Did you notice the perplexed but intrigued Korean man in the background? No? Look again. He is important because minutes after this photo was taken, unbeknownst to any of us, Fenton made his way over to his table and started regaling them with some crazy talk. Once we realized where he was, I felt the need to document the moment, so I stood to snap a photo. Alas I was out of range, but Simon, Michelle's distinguished Irish (English?) boyfriend, kindly offered to take a closer shot. In doing so he leaned on an unstable table and nearly broke it in two. He fell and the entire restaurant burst into unabashed laughter. Even my concern for my camera could not mitigate the moment's hilarity, so I too, laughed. Once the laughter died down, Simon did manage to get a good photo...but at what cost? You'll notice that the people at the table are still in the throes of laughing, especially Asma, who has apparently been sold into marriage in exchange for the fine desert beast in the picture. The price was steep, yes, but camels come and go, only Asma is forever. Kidding.

On Christmas he gave me aftershave

Saturday was also Patrick's last night on the town, and we sent him off in good fashion, drinking prodigious amounts of soju and beer. Patrick was my first guy friend in Korea and he taught me much about the crack game. And by crack game, I of course mean Korean culture. He was my neighbor and fellow baseball nut, and he was a true homie. Take your place of honor amongst the 300 pictures of me on the top of the site. You'll be missed you penny-pinching bastard, I hope you have a safe flight home. This is where I get a little weepy-eyed. My other dear friend Michelle leaves next Saturday, so it seems that we are destined to drink ourselves into another nostalgic stupor again this weekend. Such is Mango. Despite these farewells, the past weekend has actually been ridiculously fun (and drunk) and has led me to think about extending me contract in Korea for a little while longer, under the right circumstances. I have to say that my circle of friends can be quite delightful (big shout out to Asma and Fenton) and I look forward to my final three months with them.

I will try to finish that Japan entry next time.