Bravest Man Alive

August 19, 2007

Alright.

I don’t know if this is an appropriate topic for the chnepr forum, but I heard a pretty amazing story last night.

I was at a little shindig at some NGO. PopNLock and KCQ were there and I hadn’t seen ’em in months. PopNLock proceeded to challenge me to another dance off, as apparently is customary in his weird, twisted coastal Kenyan culture. We tore it up. It was all over when I pulled a double knee drop. PopNLock will still say he’s the better dancer.

But I think we all know the real answer.

I ended up dancing with some girl, and when I left,  she followed me out. We chatted a little in the cool night.

“Eaah. Not really getting along with this one,” assessed the InMo.

I met a bunch of new people, saw a bunch of Old friends, like Zim the lawyer/de-miner who used to fly, “a mahogany bomber.” There was Slick, the oil salesman, Irish the Irish girl, Disgruntled the Guy whose stage I stole, Stitch the Aussie who sewed my shorts, Logical the logistician, Zulu the birthday girl, and a bunch of others. It was really quite nice seeing everyone back together and what what.

My ride left and I decided to solicit a ride home from KCQ. He and Logical was talking to someone new, BravestManAlive. When I joined in the conversation, I heard, “there must have been a lot of blood.” I’m a big fan of injury stories since I have a lot of them—injuries and stories. But this trumped about anything I had. BravestManAlive had just undergone a circumcision.

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, my I was in Zambia, and my ‘banjo string’ was torn in an act of love.”

“Your banjo string?”

“Yeah, you know, ‘the turtleneck.'”

“Good god,” I managed to mutter.

“What were you fucking?” bursted out Logical.

“A bucket of gravel?” posited the InMo.

“It was her hand,” stated BravestManAlive calmly and succinctly.

“That must be the worst hand job ever in the history of the world,” indignanted KCQ.

“Yeah. The aftermath of the surgery was pretty bad too.”

“I can only imagine,” I stammered, trying to find appropriate words.

“Anesthesia?” posited KCQ.

“Yeah,” BravestManAlive shrugged, “General.”

“That’s a relief,” sighed Logical.

“Well,” stalled BravestManAlive, “If you’re gonna be unconscious with someone cutting at your pecker, there are better places to be than Zambia.”


The New Bar

August 17, 2007

I’m back in Juba, and we’ve got a new bar. We’re having a big grand opening on the 25th. I named the bar, designed the logo and composed all promotional materials like this ad, running all next week:

The bar ad

The white space is where the website for the bar goes. It has all the info not provided in the ad.

Sort of a teaser trailer, if you will.

Today, after lunch I was just walking by, and I saw two of my more senior local employees enjoying a beer.”

You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said aloud. “Are you drinking beers?”

“We are on break,” offered employee #1.”

It doesn’t matter. Let’s go to the office.”

“It is OK. I am strong,” replied employee #2.

“We’re gonna see how strong you are if you don’t move right now.”

“May I finish my beer?”

“NOW!”


Yoga

August 11, 2007

Last week, LouieLouie was back in Nairobi to get the twins checked out.

Lex Luthor, The Wolf, LouieLouie, and myself went out for dinner.

We went to Tamarind downtown and had a lovely meal.  I had Szechwan duck sachets and some of LouieLouie’s oysters to start and pili pili prawns as an entree and we all had irish coffees for desert.  We departed to a particular club later on and the wolf departed early.  I pretended to be from norht ontreal and only speak french to avoid the hookers.  Lex Luthor and LouieLouie found this most amusing, but promptly headed for the dancefloor leaving not much of an exit strategy without blowing my cover.

In planning for the following day Lex Luthor said he wouldn’t be able to join us.  He was gonna go to Yoga.  I proceeded to take the piss.  It was all I could do.   I mean he was doing frickin yoga.  Lex Luthor proceeded to defend himself and the art saying it was quite a workout.  I countered by saying, “bullsh.  I could kick your ass at yoga.”

“Try it,” snorted Lex.

“No way,” I replied.

“Pansy,” said Lex, or something to that effect

I bet him the fee for the private session.  After I arrived home that night I realized the absurdity of it all; defending my masculinity by agreeing to yoga was like have a duel to settle an argument about gun violence.

I must admit I was somewhat nervous about trying it out, but a bet was a bet.  I had an ace up my sleeve, though.  I had told Lex that I did martial arts for a number of years.  He thought I was bluffing.

All in all, I didn’t really get it.  it was a lot of stretching, and it wasn’t at all relaxing.  I’m leaning on my forearms well under my back, my head arched back and my legs stretched out trying to keep my feet flat on the floor.

While juggling.

The swami walks over.

Am I doing it wrong?” I grunt

He shakes his head and steps gingerly on the top of my metatarsals pushing the balls of my feet to the mat.

“Dude,” I say from back of my mouth.  “Are you familiar with the term schadenfreude?”

“Relaaaaaahx,” he hissed.

“For the love of buddha, man!  How am I supposed to relax when my entire frame is contorted unnaturally?” Barked the InMo

The other that got me was the seriousness.  Doing martial arts, it made sense to be serious.  How could one not be serious learning to kill people?  But Yoga by it’s nature seemed silly.  It was a kind of goofy thing: “One foot here, arm here.  Now, straighten your knee.  OK.  Move your leg over here, pulverizing your genitals.  Good.”

Rolling around the floor in ridiculous positions abusing gonads, grunting and groaning, stretching and contorting I came to a conclusion:  yoga is frickin weird.

Needless to say, between sun salutation and ‘ommmms’ and all sorts of weird breathing techniques I won.   I nailed a full bridge first attempt and got my toes on the floor in on a half shoulderstand.

Then I roundhouse kicked something

It’s been a good little stay in Nairobi.  But come Monday, I’ll be chnepring from The ‘Dan.


Z-Phone: All These Features and Reversi!

August 9, 2007

It’s been a while since I posted anything tech related. An M$ employee apparently hit too close to home as supposedly the MS employee was fired for posting this rendition of the ‘monkeyboy dance.’

I dislike Microsoft as much as the next guy, but it’s not like they give us much to like. How could you when this is your CEO. To be honest, I enjoyed this mock up much more

I think it’s Matthew Lesko-style voice over in Bill Gates’ voice that really does it. I’ve watched it like ten times already.