Archive for May, 2010

Tattoo taboo

May 31, 2010

Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come. That wonderful time of year when I decide on getting yet another tattoo. Only this time, it’ll be a double whammy. Here’s the story.

Sailors, as you may or may not know, are highly superstitious beings. Also, the majority of hardcore-nautical men get tattoos as a souvenir of sort, to show where they’ve been. This combination of superstitious badassness has lead to a variety of typical sailor tattoos that we see today. A common example is the anchor, which signifies stability.

Anyway, the tattoos I wanna get are a small pig on top of one foot (like just under my last two toes) and a small rooster on the other. The myth behind the pig and the rooster is a little vague, and there are a lot of variations and twists to the symbolism behind them. One explanation is that both of these barnyard creatures despise the water and will therefore help a capsized sailor swim quickly to shore by carrying each of his feet and not sinking too far into the depths of the ocean. Another tale involves a huge shipwreck, and everyone died except this one smart dude who grabbed hold of one of the cargo crates that was floating nearby. Eventually, he drifted to shore, and after a while, so did a lot more boxes. Upon opening them, he found that some of the crates housed pigs, and the others contained roosters, and they were the only things that didn’t sink into the sea. So when he explored the island to look for other people and shelter and shit, he found this native guy and told him the story (in exaggerated hand gestures) and the native as a token of luck, tattooed a pig onto one of his feet and a rooster on the other.

Regardless of how the story goes, the bottom line is always the same: in sailor superstition, tattooing a pig and a rooster on each foot will prevent you from drowning. Now I know you’re asking yourself if I’m on crack because I’m 1.) not a sailor and 2.) fully capable of swimming, so why would I consider permanently inking two random (yet delicious) farm animals onto my feet? The answer is simple. July 27th marks the end of a full year’s worth of slavery at Jumeirah. And in that time, not one person drowned under my watch. And in honour of surviving a hellish year and saving others from the water’s death grip, I will get my fucken sailor tattoos. Because it’s fitting. And they will be cute. And Jumeirah has consumed an entire year of my life, and I feel I must pay respect by honouring It with some form of permanent tribute. And I mean, I’m not retarded, like, I’m not going to ink the Jumeirah logo onto my cheek or something. So I think this is the best option.

In other news, while we’re still on the topic of tattoos, Aaron just asked me to help him come up with another design for his forearm and I’m pretty excited for it. Because the idea I have in my head is wicked, I just need to find time to get it down on paper. And when that happens, I’ll share with you the final version.


May 28, 2010

I have an iguana.

His name is Amadeus.

Not Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, just Amadeus.

Amadeus lives in a tiny little terrarium.

He doesn’t really like it there.

So I’ve started building him a bigger, better one!

It’s going to be pretty pimp when it’s done.


May 17, 2010

I don’t know about you, but I get insanely jealous when I hear someone whistling as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Don’t get me wrong, I know how to carry a tune. But my range is quite narrow, I can’t do cool vibrato shit, I’m incapable of imitating birds, and worst of all, I can’t make one of those loud, shrill, taxi-hailing whistles, regardless of whether or not I include the use of my fingers. For this very reason (and because I’m slightly insane), I have researched whistling to its fullest extent, and still, I haven’t managed to progress to any higher level. But if you’re an expert, maybe you can tell me what I’m doing wrong.

Before we begin, it is important to understand how whistling works. I Wikipediaed it, and it was a little bit too complex for my liking, including terms such as “dorsum,” “alveolar ridges,” and “Helmholtz resonator.” But I plowed through the hardcore vocabulary, clicked on all the hyperlinks,¬†and managed to extract the essence of the article. In plain English: Whistling is difficult as shit and is reserved only for cool people like sailors, God, and the seven dwarves.

Nevertheless, if Dopey and Grumpy can whistle while they work, I sure as shit can do it too! So I continued on the quest for whistling knowledge. For simplicity, I’ll divide my findings and results into three categories.

  1. The bird call. Out of all of them, this is probably the saddest one to watch me try. I’ve read countless articles about adjusting the pitch of the whistle by controlling the stream of air with the tongue and teeth and amount of air in the mouth, but I just can’t do it. This crazy grandpa is fucking good. Then there’s people who instruct you how to clasp your hands together, and blow between the gap created by your thumbs, but that doesn’t work either. It sounds as if I’m blowing air into my hands to keep them warm. Not doing a kookaburra mating call.
  2. The angry New Yorker pedestrian whistle. This is even more difficult than the bird call. It requires like, I don’t know, a magical built-in chamber of loudness in your mouth. If you weren’t equipped with one since birth, it’s nearly impossible to create a sound. And yet, I know so many people who can do it. It makes me want to cry.
  3. The melodic whistle. Words can’t even begin to describe how much I hate people who are good at this, regardless of how annoying it may be.

Basically, I’ve reached the conclusion that I will never be able to become a badass whistler, without the help of stem-cells. But although I’ve accepted my fate, I’m still irrationally optimistic, so if you have any tips or whatever, let me know.

I’m baaaack! *cue creepy music*

May 17, 2010

Yeah yeah yeah, give me a break okay? I have a life. Well, sort of. Actually, not really, but I was trying to make myself sound like the cool kid on the block. Anyway, I have several posts that I’ve been wanting to write but couldn’t find the time for, and now that the semester is over, I think I’ll go ahead and share them with you one at a time. So you can start being regular readers again, because I’ll be a regular blogger.

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