Now called Utqiaġvik as of late 2016
He smiled at me manically as he held the open container of brimed whale meat in front of me and asked, “Did you want to try some?”. I winced and began to turn away while slowly moving myself in the direction of my room before the urge to try new things made me turn around, grab the mason jar, and quickly digest some of it’s . . .
“I’m a hustler, I play pool for money and always win!” Her boast came in only a few decibels louder than Underground’s Born Slippy blaring through the speakers in the subterranean nightclub that I found days ago but was uncomfortable approaching, thinking it was a fetish sex club right out of the movie Eyes Wide Shut. . . .
How much is too much sleep? We were perhaps taking our third nap of the day in the sleepy town of San Juan del Sur. Our objective was to simply do nothing against the backdrop of locals, small shops, Lake Nicaragua, surfers looking for waves, and fisherman dropping nets in the distance.
My friend, a first time parent weakened by . . .
When I was in high school, I watched Korean soaps on educational television. What began as a general curiosity became a form of entertainment that slowly introduced me to another culture. A new episode aired every weekday, always ending with a cliffhanger due to a grand revelation or a confrontation. As the years passed, my interest gave . . .
My impending loss of air miles was the crucial factor sending me on a 48 hour trip to Salt Lake City. In those two days, I learned about the three different types of people who co-exist there. The first were born and raised in Utah, and they are restless, bored, and tired of the monotony. The second are mostly tourists, college graduates born . . .
St. Thomas U.S.V.I & Tortola B.V.I
Prior to arriving in St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands, I was less than thrilled. My imagination conjured up hordes of Americans lumbering out of cruise ships to the music of Bob Marley while looking for t-shirts with St. Thomas across the front, young ladies getting their hair braided, and everyone in the mood for a Caribbean experience . . .
I've had too much to drink.....no regrets in that thought. My best was given, but I am no longer a young man and proved it by praying to the porcelain god and throwing up. My prayers in moans and heaves were not good enough. Seven pints, eight shots of whiskey, and an Irish Car bomb (a mixture of Jameson, Bailey's, and Guinness) went down . . .