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  • Mind the gap (London part 1)

    Posted on July 30th, 2009 Cibo 2 comments

    Coming back to LA after 10 days in London, well, frankly sucks. The only plus is the weather in LA doesn’t blow. Outside of that, yeah I’m back in hell (and jet-lagged by 8 hours). It was also nice of my hopefully future university to put in a pass or get-the-fuck-out math test after I paid a 1000 pound deposit.

    I then spent the week after I got back getting up to speed on my “maths”. Though, on the plus side, I’m pretty decent at the derivatives now. The next post will be a Haruhi regression analysis of my enjoyment with the show. Here’s a preview, it’s a DOWNWARD SLOPE!

    Fuck the gap!

    One thing you quickly learn about Bizzaro-America is that everything you have ever known is now wrong. From my dad almost being hit when walking across the wrong side of the road, to every phrase you have ever learned now being wrong.


     MONOCLE MAN!!!!

    That sounds like pivotal affairs!


    Arriving at like 1 or 2 PM on Sunday after like a 10 hour flight on econo-fail class, both Dad and I felt like shit. We then took an uneventful train ride to our hotel. However, we did eat some badass Turk food when we got to train stop where our hotel was, stuff that’s not readily available in LA. We did some shit I don’t remember since I was borderline hallucinating from my sleep deprivation and fell sleep around 7 or 8 PM.

    I awoke up around 12 AM. The guys across the hall from me kept opening and closing their door peeking in and out like school girls. Annoyed, pained, and very much awake at this point, I took a look outside of my room. Not seeing anything, I checked out the stairs near the elevator. There I saw a rather amorous couple having cardinal relations on the stairs. No, the chick was not hot. But man, were they drunk.

    I went downstairs to get some coffee and there was the rest of the tard troop which the couple had broken off from. Dudes had come back from an Oasis concert and were smashed. The hotel staff was giving it their all to stop the dumb fucks from playing in the street, much like me during the few high school parties I attended. Ignoring the insanity, I continued on to the cappuccino machine and had myself a cup. Thereafter, I thought I might as well have a chat with the locals.

    They were from Birmingham and their accent was pretty hard for me to understand. Additionally, my goddamn hearing starting going out again which didn’t help. One of the dudes was trying to convince me he was the lead singer. To me a Brit is a Brit. I’m also somewhat gullible in regards to popular culture due to me knowing nothing about it and being from LA where I have been surprised by random dudes on occasions actually being someone. So, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. He over played his hand when he told me to get a camera and the wanker next to him was like “Yah, yah get a camera, huhuh.” Upon finding a opening, I excused myself and went back to bed.


    Next day, we headed to the government area with parliament and stuff. I took a picture with a British Calvary guard (not the bear skin hat type) that was stationed in front of one of the buildings. With both of our eyes facing forward, I leaned to my side, continuing to look straight, I whispered into the soldier’s ear, “Man, it must suck spending 8 hours a day staring at the wall. I feel for ya solider.” I may just be imagining things, but I think I caught a smirk in the corner of my eye.

    There was some cause du jour marathon going on around White Hall and the like. The DJ’s were trying to pump up the crowd by playing YMCA. The Brits being the serious bizness they are, all 3-4 hundred of them, just stood there looking stern. The only people who were doing the jig were about 4-5 foreigners, in addition to me.

    We stopped for a bit to get some coffee and tea. Then, we went to Churchill’s underground war cabinet museum since we’re both World War 2 fanboys (I totally kicked my high school teacher’s ass in WW2 trivia). There, I started feeling like shit from the jet-lag and damn near blacked out from lack of food along my head injury acting up because it never stops fucking with me (Though I will admit, it’s been less bad recently)

    Since I didn’t die, we headed back to the hotel and ate at the pub near our hotel. For most of the trip, we ended our day at that pub. Over time we got to know the bartender and had some pretty good conversations with him. I must say it’s nice to go to a place where everyone knows your name. Damn, that could even be a fucking TV show. It probably would suck though.

    No, that’s not it. But, that did suck though so maybe…hmm


    On Tuesday, we ate lunch at a Indian place across the street. It’s never really a good sign when the owners almost seem surprised that they even have someone to serve. Food was pretty good though. The waitress/floor sweeper there was some Eastern European chick, pretty good looking for doing a fairly crappy job. In fact, during my trip I found many good looking European chicks doing the same jobs that Mexicans do in LA. Thing is, in LA someone, anyone, would have taken these chicks in, here…. I really have no fucking explanation. These girls are too good looking to be cleaning my messy hotel room.

    Subsequently after lunch, we checked out the school I’m going to be heading to in fall. Seems legit, the Brits seem to like it and it’ll get me where I want to go.

    Later that day father and I had HIGH TEA, it was lolable. First off, I’m guessing it’s more a girl’s activity based on the make-up of the patrons. There were either chicks, or dudes bringing chicks to tea. 2nd, the food is gender questioningly good. I can’t decide if I should have kicked my own ass for liking the scone with marmalade or asked for another. Seriously, doing tea is like I’m a kid again playing with Barbie dolls, stuffed animals, killing shit. It was also nice to finally meet with some Brits I could understand too.

    Many Londoners mumble, speak inaudibly, and seem apprehensive. Contrary to the general opinion, not all Brits talk like they’re stuck up snobs who are better than you. However, the educated ones that do are awesome. When someone can insult at such a high level, you almost feel like it’s your fault for whatever it is you did, which it is.

    America, being mostly full of retards who repeat internet phrases, tell jokes they stole from their friends, and/or string together five or six cuss words over and over to be WITTY AND PROVOCATIVE, simply cannot compete with the British on insults (I will admit Scritty is a good representative of the New Zealanders if they weren’t already disqualified for being a country no one give a shit about). There’s only one last hope against the British hegemony of snobs, America’s last best hope…


    WHY NEIL? WHY? You could have been a total bro, man.

    Ahem, continuing on without further adieu:

    Brit vs gay


    I was thinking about writing a pilot script or something. There would of course be competitions: an insult off, double entendre-Flemish flaunt, and maybe even a pose off along with whatever I can pull out of my ass. Sad part is, this is probably more watchable than most of the crap on TV too. If the Hills can get like 4 something seasons, this shit should be renewed at least twice.

    Of course, if you combined gay and Brit, then you’d have:

    Which is overpowered as fuck. (And I’m fucking blind too)


    At any rate, after TEEE, we went to the pub again. Had some fish and chips and crapped out for the night.


    We basically chilled Wednesday. Because we tend to power through our trips, we usually get sick around the third or fourth day. We did the recommended 3 week Germany tour in 10 days, and we burned through the major districts in Tokyo in a week. Anyway, we’d thought we go to the movies on our light day. What better film to watch in Britain than Harry Potter?

    If there was ever a time I felt like I was back home, it was when I was in that shit hole of a movie theater. At the concessions stand, there were the same snot nosed teens who had no idea what the fuck they were doing when they were asking you for your order. The architecture looks like the same AMC design that’s been reused since I was a kid. What’s more, there was the same tacky 80’s carpeting with the candy of unknown age going through the evolution process (very soon achieving sentiency and war will begin against our awaken starburst creations!).

    The movie wasn’t going to start for like another 45 minutes so I asked the cute but impossible to hear register chick if there was an arcade. Between mumbles, I was able to discern there was one around the corner in a bowling alley or a booing alley, I can never tell.

    After beating the shit out of the high score in the standard, but always awesome, Namco machine gun game, I headed back to theater. It really feels weird to be in a movie with all this American shit going on but kids whining to their parents in Londonish. I’m trying to keep an open mind here, yet it’s so goddamn surreal. Ignoring the milieu, the movie was pretty good.

    Afterwards, we had some Chinese buffet thing that was in the same strip mall as the theater. Not the best Chinese I had, but it filled us up. I couldn’t understand what the fuck they were saying since it was British and/or Chinese. I’m starting to wonder how much of this is me, and how much of this is them. Further, I’m starting to wonder how the rest of the world views the Southern California accent.

    Coming back, well after getting lost for like an hour since the buses don’t go the same direction coming back, we hit the pub again. I had myself a couple of London Prides and talked with the bartender a little, then called it a night since I was still jet-lagged as fuck.

    Other things of note:

    The weather does suck. No lie, it sucks as bad as LA traffic.

    Walking across the street when people drive on the left-side fucks with you completely.

    Guinness does in fact taste better in Europe. I loath to admit it.

    Swine flu is a big deal in the UK:

    I find it hilarious how the Brits are freaking out about the swine flu. It almost feels quant since Americans at this point have forgotten there even was a flu and have gone back to how fat celebrity (X) has gotten.



    Next time: The Tower of London, Madame Tussaud’s wax museum, and why I can’t find a fucking decent Japanese restaurant in London among other shit


    With that I’m taking a fucking break and writing the rest later.

    Here’s some pics of one of the few non-suck animes this summer to cleanse your palate on the way out.






    2 responses to “Mind the gap (London part 1)”

    1. I want the second part of the story, douche. Much more of this and I’ll have to post something (and noone wants that).

    2. emchi,Thanks for good luck wishes, much atpaecirped.It’s nothing fancy and I suspect I may have built it up on the blog much more than I should have done. Oops.I’m training to be a plumber. Well, possibly other things too, but primarily it’s your plumbing I’m interested in missus.yoko,Thank you as well. Believe me they are most atpaecirped.beth,Deep down I’m still shitting myself.It’s a huge change for me, being so used to ‘sales’ jobs. I wanted a completely new direction and I’m hoping this is it.

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