France!
My Horn Can Pierce the Sky!
December/12/2008 11:58 AM
There’s a place in France
Where the naked ladies dance
There’s a hole in the wall
Where you can see it all
Just kidding, kind of, I didn’t see
The hole in the wall was too short for me
But I didn’t come here for the trouble
I came to get the double doubles
Alas, that chance for me never came
I sat on the bench the entire game!
The reason? No reason, just haterism
So I partook in some grand tourism
Barcelona and Florence, I saw it all
But I would have preferred to see the ball
Think of me just like you would Vinny Chase
On the set of Smoke Jumpers, such a disgrace
But While I was there I got a lot done
I ate fois gros and drank wine with my man Julian
I dominated the Nancy Mario Kart Circuit
And saw TJ Parker get a $22K haircut
I brought all the hype and none of the drama
And I screwed Sarah Palin -- by voting OBAMA
So now I must go to another place
I’ll do like the Joker and put a smile on your face
Them hold me down? Id like to see em try
But don’t forget, my horn can pierce the sky!
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A Blackberry, Paris, a Train, a Taxi, and a Faulty Card That Nearly Led to my Demise.
December/08/2008 02:53 PM
Before you hear this story, you need to understand that I bought a Blackberry Storm here in France about a week ago. I got it here so that I could use my ATT card in it and get 3G speeds. It has been a bit of a process to get it unlocked though and, after searching all week, I discovered a place in Paris that could unlock it effortlessly. Today I had a day off and attempted to get this done. This is my story.
[It was written as an AIM message originally so disregard the grammar and formatting]
So I woke up at like 1230 or 1 today, mapquested the two places that were sposed to be able to handle my phone, found the closer one and wrote the address down
I got in the taxi, and showed him the place
1 was a perfect time because my train back to Nancy was leaving at 4
I get to the phone place at about 130
the guy there said something like "5 hours"
either he meant come back at 5 or that it would be ready at 630
either way, I was going to have to get a new train and find something to do for 5 hours
So I went to lunch at Hippo which is like a TGIFridays style place
got my lunch and tried to pay
my card didnt work
my effin ffrench card has a weird 30-day spending limit
so it just works basically when it feels like it because I bought clothes online
So there was a very embarrassing situation in the restuarant
and they couldnt understand me anyways
We basically just ran the card 6 times and on time 6 it worked
but I tried to go to an ATM afterward and I was NOT able to take out any money
at all
and I had no cash
and the phone would cost 60Euro for the unlock anyways
so I was kind of panicking and I had to catch Taxis all over to get back anyways
So, after 5 hours sitting in a hotel lobby, I got in a taxi, figuring that the card would probably work at an ATM now and I had to pick up the phone and get to the train station
so we drive up to the Phone place which is on an VERY busy street
the cab driver speaks NO english whatsoever and I'm trying to tell him to wait outside for me while I run in and grab the phone
I am debating wether or not to take my bag inside with me, but I decide against it because I want him to know that Im serious about coming back out
when I get into the phone place the guy tells me to hold on for like 5 min
so I go back outside, check on the taxi, hes chillin, and I go to the bank next door to try to take out money
NO DICE
I cant pay for the phone ANYWAY
I got back into the phoen store and the guy tells me that they need to hold my phone for 3 days
and Im like nope cant do it cuz I live in Nancy
plsu I cant pay regardless
I grab the phone and go back outside
TAXI IS GONE
out of panic, and knowing that my laptop is in the bag, I just take off running towards where some taxis are up the street
after like 3 steps, EVERYTHING in my pockets falls out
including the brand new phone
SCRATCHED
I have to spend like 1 minute and a half collecting my things
I didnt realize how much sh** was in my pockets
3 phones
ipod
hella change
and I NEEDED that change
once I collect it all, the taxi driver pulls up
I guess he had to move cuz of a bus
finally a break
get in the taxi and head to the train station
but the bill is like 20 euro and I have like 8
in 50 cent coins
so I propose we go by a bank so I can try to take out just 20 euro
thinking that would worrk
we go to the bank and NO DICE
no money
I tell him that I DID get the money out and to drive back to the train station
on the way I scour my bag and my clothes from the night before
there just happens to be 25 euros in my jeans pocket
my tab was 24
I get out of the taxi with like 14 mintues to go until the last train leaves to come back to Nancy
but I have to change my ticket so I am hustling
i spend 5 minutes just trying to find the ticket office cuz all i see are automated things
I finally find it, go to the counter and start searching my pockets
for a ticket that ISNT TEHRE
lost
somewhere in the mayhem
the guy says that he CAN NOT give me a new one
I have to buy it
So I walk to the corner and just sit down
like no way am I going to be stuck in this trian station overnight cuz I cant go ANYWHERE
I decide to give my card a try in one of the automated things
IT WORKS
50Euro
wtf
get my ticket with NOT EVEN A MINUTE to spare
and sprint to my train
make it home
the end
[It was written as an AIM message originally so disregard the grammar and formatting]
So I woke up at like 1230 or 1 today, mapquested the two places that were sposed to be able to handle my phone, found the closer one and wrote the address down
I got in the taxi, and showed him the place
1 was a perfect time because my train back to Nancy was leaving at 4
I get to the phone place at about 130
the guy there said something like "5 hours"
either he meant come back at 5 or that it would be ready at 630
either way, I was going to have to get a new train and find something to do for 5 hours
So I went to lunch at Hippo which is like a TGIFridays style place
got my lunch and tried to pay
my card didnt work
my effin ffrench card has a weird 30-day spending limit
so it just works basically when it feels like it because I bought clothes online
So there was a very embarrassing situation in the restuarant
and they couldnt understand me anyways
We basically just ran the card 6 times and on time 6 it worked
but I tried to go to an ATM afterward and I was NOT able to take out any money
at all
and I had no cash
and the phone would cost 60Euro for the unlock anyways
so I was kind of panicking and I had to catch Taxis all over to get back anyways
So, after 5 hours sitting in a hotel lobby, I got in a taxi, figuring that the card would probably work at an ATM now and I had to pick up the phone and get to the train station
so we drive up to the Phone place which is on an VERY busy street
the cab driver speaks NO english whatsoever and I'm trying to tell him to wait outside for me while I run in and grab the phone
I am debating wether or not to take my bag inside with me, but I decide against it because I want him to know that Im serious about coming back out
when I get into the phone place the guy tells me to hold on for like 5 min
so I go back outside, check on the taxi, hes chillin, and I go to the bank next door to try to take out money
NO DICE
I cant pay for the phone ANYWAY
I got back into the phoen store and the guy tells me that they need to hold my phone for 3 days
and Im like nope cant do it cuz I live in Nancy
plsu I cant pay regardless
I grab the phone and go back outside
TAXI IS GONE
out of panic, and knowing that my laptop is in the bag, I just take off running towards where some taxis are up the street
after like 3 steps, EVERYTHING in my pockets falls out
including the brand new phone
SCRATCHED
I have to spend like 1 minute and a half collecting my things
I didnt realize how much sh** was in my pockets
3 phones
ipod
hella change
and I NEEDED that change
once I collect it all, the taxi driver pulls up
I guess he had to move cuz of a bus
finally a break
get in the taxi and head to the train station
but the bill is like 20 euro and I have like 8
in 50 cent coins
so I propose we go by a bank so I can try to take out just 20 euro
thinking that would worrk
we go to the bank and NO DICE
no money
I tell him that I DID get the money out and to drive back to the train station
on the way I scour my bag and my clothes from the night before
there just happens to be 25 euros in my jeans pocket
my tab was 24
I get out of the taxi with like 14 mintues to go until the last train leaves to come back to Nancy
but I have to change my ticket so I am hustling
i spend 5 minutes just trying to find the ticket office cuz all i see are automated things
I finally find it, go to the counter and start searching my pockets
for a ticket that ISNT TEHRE
lost
somewhere in the mayhem
the guy says that he CAN NOT give me a new one
I have to buy it
So I walk to the corner and just sit down
like no way am I going to be stuck in this trian station overnight cuz I cant go ANYWHERE
I decide to give my card a try in one of the automated things
IT WORKS
50Euro
wtf
get my ticket with NOT EVEN A MINUTE to spare
and sprint to my train
make it home
the end
Stalker Update or Why I Can't be Facebook Friends with French People Anymore
December/08/2008 02:28 PM
So, first of all, the stalker is running around telling people that we talk all the time. Still! From what I was told, she has been chatting with “me” on MSN messenger, even after I made it clear to her and every other person of interest that I DO NOT use MSN messenger. I took her OFF my Facebook friends and told her to check herself.
Well, apparently that didn’t work because she has also told people that I asked her to meet me in Barcelona and I that I waved to her in the stands because she REALLY WENT DOWN TO BARCA FOR THE GAME!
Besides just her, I’ve been told that the French fans take pictures from my Facebook profile and paste them into various other sites. Sometimes with negative comments, sometimes without, but always party pictures or pictures from my day off. Maybe my days of putting up photo’s should come to an end anyway, or maybe I should finally stop adding anybody who wants to be my friend. JGant has been monitoring his FB pics for a long time now because his job checks it. I guess, as a professional, it’s time I did the same.
What do you think?
Well, apparently that didn’t work because she has also told people that I asked her to meet me in Barcelona and I that I waved to her in the stands because she REALLY WENT DOWN TO BARCA FOR THE GAME!
Besides just her, I’ve been told that the French fans take pictures from my Facebook profile and paste them into various other sites. Sometimes with negative comments, sometimes without, but always party pictures or pictures from my day off. Maybe my days of putting up photo’s should come to an end anyway, or maybe I should finally stop adding anybody who wants to be my friend. JGant has been monitoring his FB pics for a long time now because his job checks it. I guess, as a professional, it’s time I did the same.
What do you think?
I Have a Real Life Stalker (Finally)
November/14/2008 10:09 AM
---the names have been changed to protect myself---
During my second week here in France (early September), I logged onto Facebook and did my normal add-friends-poke-back-wall-post deal as usual. Unlike MySpace, I never really check who I’m adding, I just do. The ‘book is just not as crazy as MySpace so I don’t find the need for background checks.
Well, maybe that time has come, because just when I thought Mark Zuckerberg had made it safe to Facebook, I got a message from “Julie” on Facebook messenger:
“Welcome to Nancy! I am excited that you are here.”
“Thanks,” I answered.
“I am friends with your teammate. I saw your practice today.”
“Have I met you before?” I asked.
“No. Just saying hi,” she replied.
Like most random people who hit me up on FB Messenger, she just wanted to say hi. I was fine with that.
A few days later, she hit me up again.
“How are you?”
“I’m cool,” I answered.
“I miss you,” she said.
“Wait, what? I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before.”
The whole “I miss you” thing
“Why are you being mean? O.K. then. Goodbye,” she wrote.
The next day at practice I told my teammates about the whole interaction. Naturally, they asked how she looked. I tried to help them focus on the point of the matter. She had never met me and she missed me. That pretty much negates everything else anyway.
So a few days later, I was with my man Lamayn at a local club and she showed up. I felt kinda bad about what I last said to her and since this was our first meeting, I apologized, but told her that it’s not normal for someone to miss someone they had never met.
The next day she hit me up on FB Messenger again.
“So are we still on for Friday?”
“What do you mean are we still on?” I asked her.
“You told me we would get together on Friday.”
“No, I didn’t. I said one sentence to you. I never said anything about that.”
“Why do you change your mind?”
“I DIDNT TELL YOU THAT SO MY MIND NEVER CHANGED.”
“Then when you are ready to spend time with me let me know,” she said.
Then an hour later:
“You can just tell me if you want to hang out with me or not,” she said.
I wasn’t near my computer so it went unanswered.
“Fine. I guess I have my answer,” she wrote.
A week later she sent me a message about how she doesn’t want me to leave the team and that she read in the local paper that I could be leaving soon. I disregarded it.
Fast forward to November 8th.
I had just gotten back home from a road trip to Cholet. It was 1:15 AM and I was about to leave my spot to go to Lamayns to pick him up and hit the club.
As I walked out of front of my apartment building, there was “Julie” at the call box.
“Who are you here to see?” I asked, befuddled.
“Don’t do this to me,” she said.
“Don’t do what? You’re clearly not here to see me.”
“Please don’t do this, not again. You know I’m here to see you.”
“Are you serious right now? I didn’t invite you here. Don’t do what to you?”
“You told me to come over.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m clearly leaving. It’s 1:20 in the morning. I’m going downtown. I was supposed to meet up with Lamayn 5 minutes ago,” I informed her.
She started getting teary eyed and I felt a little bad.
“Where, when, how did I tell you to meet me here right now?” I asked her.
“We spoke on MSN,” she answered.
“Well, I don’t have MSN. People in the US use AIM. MSN is for Frenchy’s. Everyone knows that I don’t have MSN. If thats true, what’s my screen name?”
“It’s Boom Tho,” she mumbled.
“I mean, that appears to be a good guess, but I don’t have MSN so someone is playing a joke on you or you’re lying.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“YOU don’t believe ME?” I nearly yelled out. “O.K. I’ll prove it to you.”
It was nearing 1:30 now, but I didn’t care. I ran upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I brought it back down and proceeded to scroll through all my apps. MSN was nowhere to be found. I then took the laptop back upstairs and came back down. She was teary eyed again.
Maybe she thought I was going to invite her up or something but that was the furthest thought from my mind. I was late for party time with Lamayn.
“So there you have it. Sorry to tell you, but either you’re being pranked, or you’re lying to me. Either way, I have to go.”
I got in my car and left and had a great time that night. I ended our Facebook friendship (first time I’ve ever ended a FB friendship) and I haven’t heard from her since.
The End.
During my second week here in France (early September), I logged onto Facebook and did my normal add-friends-poke-back-wall-post deal as usual. Unlike MySpace, I never really check who I’m adding, I just do. The ‘book is just not as crazy as MySpace so I don’t find the need for background checks.
Well, maybe that time has come, because just when I thought Mark Zuckerberg had made it safe to Facebook, I got a message from “Julie” on Facebook messenger:
“Welcome to Nancy! I am excited that you are here.”
“Thanks,” I answered.
“I am friends with your teammate. I saw your practice today.”
“Have I met you before?” I asked.
“No. Just saying hi,” she replied.
Like most random people who hit me up on FB Messenger, she just wanted to say hi. I was fine with that.
A few days later, she hit me up again.
“How are you?”
“I’m cool,” I answered.
“I miss you,” she said.
“Wait, what? I don’t even know you. I’ve never met you before.”
The whole “I miss you” thing
“Why are you being mean? O.K. then. Goodbye,” she wrote.
The next day at practice I told my teammates about the whole interaction. Naturally, they asked how she looked. I tried to help them focus on the point of the matter. She had never met me and she missed me. That pretty much negates everything else anyway.
So a few days later, I was with my man Lamayn at a local club and she showed up. I felt kinda bad about what I last said to her and since this was our first meeting, I apologized, but told her that it’s not normal for someone to miss someone they had never met.
The next day she hit me up on FB Messenger again.
“So are we still on for Friday?”
“What do you mean are we still on?” I asked her.
“You told me we would get together on Friday.”
“No, I didn’t. I said one sentence to you. I never said anything about that.”
“Why do you change your mind?”
“I DIDNT TELL YOU THAT SO MY MIND NEVER CHANGED.”
“Then when you are ready to spend time with me let me know,” she said.
Then an hour later:
“You can just tell me if you want to hang out with me or not,” she said.
I wasn’t near my computer so it went unanswered.
“Fine. I guess I have my answer,” she wrote.
A week later she sent me a message about how she doesn’t want me to leave the team and that she read in the local paper that I could be leaving soon. I disregarded it.
Fast forward to November 8th.
I had just gotten back home from a road trip to Cholet. It was 1:15 AM and I was about to leave my spot to go to Lamayns to pick him up and hit the club.
As I walked out of front of my apartment building, there was “Julie” at the call box.
“Who are you here to see?” I asked, befuddled.
“Don’t do this to me,” she said.
“Don’t do what? You’re clearly not here to see me.”
“Please don’t do this, not again. You know I’m here to see you.”
“Are you serious right now? I didn’t invite you here. Don’t do what to you?”
“You told me to come over.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m clearly leaving. It’s 1:20 in the morning. I’m going downtown. I was supposed to meet up with Lamayn 5 minutes ago,” I informed her.
She started getting teary eyed and I felt a little bad.
“Where, when, how did I tell you to meet me here right now?” I asked her.
“We spoke on MSN,” she answered.
“Well, I don’t have MSN. People in the US use AIM. MSN is for Frenchy’s. Everyone knows that I don’t have MSN. If thats true, what’s my screen name?”
“It’s Boom Tho,” she mumbled.
“I mean, that appears to be a good guess, but I don’t have MSN so someone is playing a joke on you or you’re lying.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “I think you’re lying to me.”
“YOU don’t believe ME?” I nearly yelled out. “O.K. I’ll prove it to you.”
It was nearing 1:30 now, but I didn’t care. I ran upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I brought it back down and proceeded to scroll through all my apps. MSN was nowhere to be found. I then took the laptop back upstairs and came back down. She was teary eyed again.
Maybe she thought I was going to invite her up or something but that was the furthest thought from my mind. I was late for party time with Lamayn.
“So there you have it. Sorry to tell you, but either you’re being pranked, or you’re lying to me. Either way, I have to go.”
I got in my car and left and had a great time that night. I ended our Facebook friendship (first time I’ve ever ended a FB friendship) and I haven’t heard from her since.
The End.
Peer Pressure Drinking in France
September/12/2008 02:03 PM
I left my crib and headed downtown (it’s like 4 minutes from my spot). There’s one restaurant that serves Italian food that I had already been to before with my teammates. The main server speaks good english, so she understands that I like my steak medium-well and not the usual purple-red bloody meat that is served out here. The owner is also a real nice guy who hands me the remote to the flat screen so I can change the channel. It’s a good thing.
After I left there, I went to a bar to meet my teammate. He never showed up. I ended up sitting there drinking some drink that consists of Stella, Cannes (which I think is sugar), and Absinthe. I had about five of those bad boys while waiting for my teammate to show up.
Finally, I got tired of waiting and I left. On my way back to the house, I walked past a bar that the owner of the Italian restaurant happened to be seated out of of. He was with a big group of people. He called me over and asked that I partake in some drinks with them. Who was I to say no?
I sat down with the big group. I guess it was the birthday of one of his friends. The owner must be like 50 years old, and the birthday boy was 25 on that day. The whole group was already pretty drunk. He ordered three whiskey and cokes. There was one for me, one for him, and one for the birthday boy.
He handed one to the birthday boy and told him to finish it immediately. I figured the kid would just sip it kinda fast, but it was a big drink and I doubt his ability to finish it so quickly. The older guy told the birthday boy to give him his hand. I was looking confused. The other people at the table seemed to already know what was about to transpire.
The friendly restaurant owner grabbed the birthday boys hand, and pulled out his index finger. He then put the birthday boys finger in his mouth and bit it. He bit that bad boy HARD. The birthday bay threw his drink back in a heartbeat. Mann it made my head spin it was so fast. As soon as the drink was finished, old guy released birthday boys finger. He then took his own drink and gave his hand to the birthday boy. Birthday boy bit the finger of 50+ year old man.
There was only one drink left on the table. Clearly it belonged to me and everyone looked at me like I had been informed of the rules, now it was time to play the game. I started shaking my head as I saw the teeth marks on the birthday boys finger. I told them I didn’t need my finger bitten to kill my drink. I kill drinks like lions kill gazelles.
The sweet old restaurant owner was suddenly not so sweet or old. He reached for my hand and I tucked it away. Suddenly, there were four people fighting for my hand -- a fight I could not win. Teeth plunged into my index finger and I knew that my only way out was to drink the drink. I took that bad boy like I was Frank The Tank. As soon as the glass was empty, my hand was once again mine.
The birthday boy ordered another round. I knew it would be a long night.
By 2am I was biting fingers like they were covered in McDonalds sweet and sour sauce. It ended up being kinda fun. I guess that could be the new way to get your boys to finish their drinks. Just bite their index fingers and see what happens. Tell em that a 50 year old restauranteur started it and that it’s your job to keep it going. That’s what I’ll be doing anyway.
After I left there, I went to a bar to meet my teammate. He never showed up. I ended up sitting there drinking some drink that consists of Stella, Cannes (which I think is sugar), and Absinthe. I had about five of those bad boys while waiting for my teammate to show up.
Finally, I got tired of waiting and I left. On my way back to the house, I walked past a bar that the owner of the Italian restaurant happened to be seated out of of. He was with a big group of people. He called me over and asked that I partake in some drinks with them. Who was I to say no?
I sat down with the big group. I guess it was the birthday of one of his friends. The owner must be like 50 years old, and the birthday boy was 25 on that day. The whole group was already pretty drunk. He ordered three whiskey and cokes. There was one for me, one for him, and one for the birthday boy.
He handed one to the birthday boy and told him to finish it immediately. I figured the kid would just sip it kinda fast, but it was a big drink and I doubt his ability to finish it so quickly. The older guy told the birthday boy to give him his hand. I was looking confused. The other people at the table seemed to already know what was about to transpire.
The friendly restaurant owner grabbed the birthday boys hand, and pulled out his index finger. He then put the birthday boys finger in his mouth and bit it. He bit that bad boy HARD. The birthday bay threw his drink back in a heartbeat. Mann it made my head spin it was so fast. As soon as the drink was finished, old guy released birthday boys finger. He then took his own drink and gave his hand to the birthday boy. Birthday boy bit the finger of 50+ year old man.
There was only one drink left on the table. Clearly it belonged to me and everyone looked at me like I had been informed of the rules, now it was time to play the game. I started shaking my head as I saw the teeth marks on the birthday boys finger. I told them I didn’t need my finger bitten to kill my drink. I kill drinks like lions kill gazelles.
The sweet old restaurant owner was suddenly not so sweet or old. He reached for my hand and I tucked it away. Suddenly, there were four people fighting for my hand -- a fight I could not win. Teeth plunged into my index finger and I knew that my only way out was to drink the drink. I took that bad boy like I was Frank The Tank. As soon as the glass was empty, my hand was once again mine.
The birthday boy ordered another round. I knew it would be a long night.
By 2am I was biting fingers like they were covered in McDonalds sweet and sour sauce. It ended up being kinda fun. I guess that could be the new way to get your boys to finish their drinks. Just bite their index fingers and see what happens. Tell em that a 50 year old restauranteur started it and that it’s your job to keep it going. That’s what I’ll be doing anyway.