dede's blog

LIT, the Funadian, and I landed in Beijing and I immediately felt like we were about to be tortured like Sly Stallone in Rambo.

On the plane we decided it would be a good idea to learn some mandarin phrases to get by. LIT chose - "How much does this cost?", Fun chose - "Where is the bathroom?", and I decided on - "May I breast feed here?" Definitely thought it would come in handy in an uptight restrictive society.

Upon leaving the airport, we were surrounded by the frozen, snow-freckled landscape that is communist China. Imperial troops were sporting those 1980's winter hats that fold up on top with the Red Star and decorated long, green coats. They looked fucking scary. And with all their grunts and twangs (Chinese people sound like they are sitting in the dentist's chair with the DDS giving them a cleaning when they talk; especially when they speak English. You half expect a hygenist to come out and say, "spit here please") my junk shriveled back inside me too frightened to come out.

Our cab driver whose English consisted of "whoa" and "momma", dropped us off in Wang Fu Jin and pointed North to show us our hotel. So... somewhere between the corner we stood on and Mongolia was our hotel.

Sweet.

Since I had memorized my phrase most effectively, I was selected to communicate with passers-by to help us find our hotel. Not a good idea. About five conversations went like this:

ME: uh, Nee Hao (chinese for hello)
CHINAMEN: uhuh, Hao (chinese for What the fuck do you want, Whitey?)
ME: Uh, uh,... mmm.....Nee jao She-ma Meens-za SheShea (chinese for what's your name? and thank you) uh... uh..

I then would make the idiot's guide to signing declaration for "house" thinking that could be universal for hotel, and then pointing in the general direction of Santa Claus.

ME: ...So... uhuh...?
CHINAMEN: heyxxiehwe heheowierxzeoeois eouzlzlie. (pointing, pointing) xceiznwnsang zeigandeios. mo qhe llgeo ahoer.
ME: (pause)... uh... WO KI-YEE DZ-AI JHER WEN NAI MA. (Chinese for May I breast feed here?)
CHINAMEN: (long pause). (walks away very quickly and angrily)

We spent ninety minutes looking for our hotel and finally realized we had been dropped off thirty yards away. Idiots. Fucking idiots.


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ME SO HAWNEE, ME SO HAWNEE - but Fun and LIT are homos.

After settling we went to Vics, according to Lonely Planet this was the most happenin' spot in Beijing.

Quick aside - Fun followed the Lonely Planet like a bible which pissed off LIT so much I thought he was going to douse him in kerosene and flick matches at him.

Vics is a club that had about 1500-2000 people inside, and roughly 9 to 11 white guys. All of them looking like they were the unclaimed love children of Steve Buschemi and the nasty chick my buddy Justin porked junior year. (shivers... shivers...). So, yeah, I stood out - because I have a normal human jaw line, and no visible genetic abnormalities.

If you guys thought that Korea boosted your ego, you should try china. Chicks were flocking to us like sheep to a shepard. A sexy ass-pounding shepard. I ended up dancing with a girl, we will call her "Pee-pee in your coke" - because her Chinese name sounded like she was throwing up.

Well I wanted to full on hate-mate with her and staple her panties above my bed, but she was hemming and hawing. Shit, she could have been telling me the formula for Dr. Pepper or the cure for cancer and it all sounded like she had accidently swallowed acid. Fun and LIT wanted to go, so we did - and on the way out we saw Tyson Beckford. The Tommy Hilfiger/Polo model from the Toni Braxton video. We rapped:

ME: Hey, there's Tyson Beckford!
TYSON: (looking up from his PDA) uh, whassup.

Needless to say, I loved China at this point.


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HE-RRO, NICEE TO MEERT YU

Day 2: We headed toward Tianamen Square and was stopped by a chinese caligraphist who drew our names in Chinese and convinced us to buy some of her work. Normally, I would have told her to get raped, but she was quoting lines from Me, Myself, and Irene. "Char-rie was a mermber of da fineest po-leece fawrce in da countree, Da Rode Eye-Rand State patrorl."

Tianamen was sweet. Largest square in the world. After about twenty minutes of looking around we were aproached by two female university students: Rita and Too Fucking Ugly to Remember Her Name.

I was twelve hours into China, and I was convinced I needed to jump ship from Korea and come here. Lord, I thought, I am this good looking in the Orient? Have I found my Jerusalem? Later I would find out. No. I'm just another douche. But that wouldn't come until it was too late.

We went with the girls to old Beijing (where the history comes from) and walked up and down the markets when T.F.U.R.H.N motioned for us to go into one of the side buildings and try a traditional tea tasting ceremony.

It was seedy, and straight out of Big Trouble in Little China. Dragons everywhere, wierd people in silk, a scary old guy in a wheelchair. (shaat up, Mista Ber-ton!!) We sat and a young chinese girl came out and began showing us how to properly prepare and serve tea. I called her out and said that I had already seen this shit in Karate Kid II; I asked if there was a monsoon watch and how could I get my hands on one of those little drums. No response. Holla.

It was cool; I learned some sweet, cheesy shit to seduce dumbass chicks and at the end asked Rita quietly how much the service costs. She replied it was free, but we should buy some tea or we would be commiting a terrible act of rudeness. The three of us agreed and asked for the smallest offering. 32 fucking dollars for about a dime bag size of tea. 32 dollars.

I calmed myself, and began putting on my jacket when Kumiko came back from blowing Daniel-san and handed me a bill.

Apparently, the service was not free. No. It was another 50 dollars a person. 50 dollars for tea. You all know me. You all know my penchant for saving money - rather hording money. And here I was with a bill for more than 80 dollars on God Damn Christ Raping Grandma Titty Fucking Tea. I thought my brain was hemmoraging - I honestly thought I tasted the metallic dull flavor of blood and that any minute my next video home would star the cerebral palsy, wheelchair bound, pants shiting, dirt bag formally known as Dede.

We paid. We left. We felt defeated. It was Day 2, and I had already spent about half of what I had budgeted for the entire trip. The Chinese girls we were with said they had no idea. And we bought it. Fucking idiots.


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LILLY #1 and DO YOU BITCHES EVEN HAVE VAGINAS


Rita and Fugly felt bad about the tea incident and wanted to meet up in front of the giant Olympic countdown clock next to Tianamen and take us to dinner. We arrived at 8 pm just in time to see it countdown the days exactly until the Beijing summer games. Pretty cool, and I love countdown timers. From New Years to Building ground breakings - they're awesome. If I could have a giant countdown timer in the bathroom for my dumps I'd swallow constipation pills by the bucket load. And when having sex... Oh the possibilities. I'm going to shit on your chest in 5...4...3....2....1...

Rita and Fugly had three friends: Rebecca (bad hair, good boobs), Gay Robert (looked like the lead singer of Frankie Goes To Hollywood), and Lilly (Star Trek Romulan looking bitch). They took us to eat dumplings. That cost them roughly 60 cents; this is important.

After the emperor's meal, we went to Karaoke. LIT and Fun drank some beer and the Get-A-Rong Gang ordered some wierd fruit dish. I tried a couple of what can only be described as Starburst Sausage Disks; they were just like they sound. Karaoke was an adventure as most words were misspelled. We sang anyway. I tried to get them to dance. They thought I was molesting them. I was. Blah Blah Blah. It was a real Hootenany - until the bill came: 1200 yuan (120 bucks).

Lilly: Ok. Here you pay.
White Guys: Uh, what.
Lilly: We are university students.
ME: I didn't drink shit, and I only ate a couple of those tangy sausage biscuits. Here is 50 yuan (5 bucks).
Lilly: No, NO, NO!!! You pay all!! We bought you dinner!!

Fun and LIT finally threw in fourty bucks each, and convinced me to toss in twenty. That left twenty dollars to be split by five chinese money rapists. They still bitched about it. At this display, I was praying to find a hardware store open at 3 am that sold staple guns and tile caulk. Godamn chinese. Fucking idiots.

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FORBIDDEN......TO ALL!!!.....except Starbucks.

Day 3: We walked back to Tianamen Square and went into the Forbidden City.

Well.... It was old, kinda cool, but it is definitely a tourist spot. I had an auto guide player that activated itself upon entering different areas - only mine starting lecturing about thirty yards before I got to the spot that dental voice would be discussing. "seer dat ba-utiful wiver". All I see is a wall, and another fucking dragon.

Coolest things about the Forbidden City:

2. There is a Starbucks INSIDE the city. Near the North wall.

1. I saw a toddler with an ass-less jumpsuit squat down and almost shit all over the white stone walk way reserved exclusively for the Emperor. Damn his Chinese father and his lighting quick Kung Fu hands.

And that's when we met.....

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Lilly #2 - NO, WE HAVEN'T SEEN THE KUNG FU SHOW YET

Upon exiting the FC, two more University students approached: Lilly and Who Gives a Fuck. They wanted to go to lunch; we stupidly paid. I was convinced that we were overcharged, but Fun told me it was worth it. Excuse me, Fuckhead, but I can pay seven dollars back home for shitting Chinese food. If you couldn't tell, both LIT and I were getting a little sick of Fun.

After lunch, Lilly asked us if we had seen the Kung Fu show yet. We said no, and she said she could show us a spot where she had seen the show last night.

We needed to go to the bank, so by the time we walked by the ticket office. I told her we would be sure to check it out later. I thought she was going to rip my arm off if I didn't go with her. The guys said, "well we are right here now." But I thought it was fishy. We bought tickets and got a brochure that displayed a really electrifying show. Fucking idiots.

We didn't figure out - until a random guy approached Fun - that the University students we thought we were attracting.... are all in the employment of ticket offices, restaurants, and tea tasting rooms. We'd been bamboozled, hornswaggled, uh, tricked, yea whatever. Not to mention that Fun finally realized that we werent' being given the right change. So instead of paying .50 cents for street meat, we had been paying around 9 dollars, etc, etc. Oh, Jesus. Fucking Idiots, stupid Fucking Idiots.

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THE GREAT WALL


It was big. But our tour guide did sound exactly like the Chinese brothers from Better Off Dead.


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LILLY #3 - I WOULD KEEL HEEM, I WOULD KEEL HEEM


We were angry like Pearl Harbor angry. Remember seeing Black Hawk Down, Red Dawn, or Saving Private Ryan? After you walked out of those movies all you wanted to do was kill skinnies, pinkos, and krauts... and that whiney little translator that got Adam Goldberg killed. Little fucker. Anyway, this is how I felt walking around China. I wanted to drop bombs over Beijing - I even had a little dance. You can see it in my video. Album drops on the twentieth.

Our second to last night we were tooling around Wang Fu Jin when three more chicks came up to us. I nearly slapped them when I asked what they were selling. They looked confused. But, we are idiots, so we went with them.

Highlights:

To the really chinese looking one with two super long finger nails:

ME: So, what's your name?
SC: Its Lin Woo somethin somethin
ME: Wow! that's super duper.
SC: My name means Supa Col-chured (super cultured). Lin woo for col-chured and somethin somethin means supa, so my name is supa col-chured.
ME: K.... what's up with those finger nails? Is that what the Chinese empresses used to do?
SC: (acting put off) It is beautiful to me.
ME: Are you sure one of your ancestors wasn't raped by a fucking dragon?
SC: I don't like you.
ME: (laughing, laughing)

To the cantonese one:

ME: Well, I know that your two friends are virgins but I'm guessing you aren't. You've been with one guy.
CHINESE BITCHES: How you know dat? What!?!?
ME: That's what I do ladies. I get inside you.
NON-VIRGIN: Yog Day Zadidza. (the one chick who didn't hate me yet translated this: she doesn't like you)

Yes, 2-for-2. Kobe-esque bitches.

I asked Lilly what she wanted to be as a little girl: to remind her of dreams forgotten that will never come to fruition in this piss-poor communist society. She said some shit about digging a tunnel under the bank of China, and killing her baby brother. Oh sorry, "keewling" her baby brother.

Then they flipped out when the bill came and you guessed it wanted us to pay. There were two Chinese soldiers outside the bar entrance so we paid and went back to our hotel. Idiots. Miserable, naive, sorry-excused Idiots.

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KUNG FU FIGHTING PLAY CUTS


When Day 4 (our last day in Beijing rolled around) we were bitter. We hated Chinese people so much that anytime someone starting walking our way, I threw a monstrous FACE HAND and would actually yell "Face, fucker, get away."

The only salvation was that we still had the Kung Fu show to attend.

Oops.

We spent nearly ninety minutes: going to the wrong venue, discovering that the ticket office gave us a bogus brochure, having a cab driver pull over and ask passersby where the show was playing, and finally arriving ten minutes before curtain. A guy approached us and asked about our hotel, and I nearly melted him with my lazer breath as we pushed by him.

The building looked like a dilapidated community center. We went up two flights and entered a theater that wasn't much larger than the little one at my old high school.

The curtain's paint job was askew and shoddy. I have expected Mr. Kinen, the drama teacher, to walk out in his low-top chuck taylor's and welcome everyone to the play cuts for East High's production of Kung Fu: The Musical. Either that or Principal Stanberry would walk out to announce the retarded bell's choir performance of tubular bells.

I gave the show the benefit of the doubt, until it started. The actors lip sync-ed all of the lines. There was a bunch of jumpin' around. Some kicks, some punches, pretty much nonsense. There were two seven year olds that did front hand springs; only they used their heads instead of their hands, so that was awesome. All in all, I figured I could have pulled off fourty-five percent of the show... until Chinese Brad Pitt made it worth while.

CBP was head and shoulders above the others both in height and in ability, just like the real Brad Pitt. He entered the stage rather methodically carrying only a bamboo pole. Then, he proceded to plant the pole in various spots on stage, jump onto the edge of it, and do several 360s before leaping off into a diverole... just like the real Brad.

The next scene, they pulled two audience members onto the stage. I begged them to take me like a crack head offering oral sex for pocket change.

They didn't. LIT and I whispered how awesome it would be to go up there with only Fun saying he had no desire to go on stage. Foreshadowing....

The CBP once again came out and held a bowl with only his stomach muscles as the two volunteers tried to pull it off unsuccessfully. He snickered at the audience as he popped off the bowl, and then did a sweet jump kick routine and some front hand/head springs. It was amazing that he never once took off the Kavu visor or the Euro-Sweet Real Madrid warm-up jacket.

The show was nearing close when they once again pulled some of us out of the crowd. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as the kung fu fighters chose.... Fun to go on stage. Mother fucker.

The CBP then led the chosen in a series of kicks and punches. That was funny because Fun is a pussy-ass wanna-be hippie with no coordination so watching him try to pull off moves and get showed up by small children was worth the 18 dollars. Although.... Fuck I wanted to be up there.

The show abrubtly ended with all of my applause being reserved for CBP. He heard it. He felt it. I hope he gives me extra work in Chinese Ocean's 13.

We flew home with about fifty dollars worth of fake North Face junk, tea that cost more than my utilities for three months, and a definite disgust for ourselves and the weasels that took our money.

China was sweet though, and if we ever go head to head with them I'm not completely worried. Why? At the Great Wall, we witnessed a platoon of chinese soldiers marching up to the top. Most of them carried themselves with poise and a look of ass-kickery. However, at the very end of the parade march, there stood two guys with their hats to the crook playing grabass and laughing like total douchebags. 1 billion people they may have, but a douche is a douche.

later,

Dede-da Teacha

Another adventure in the Land of the Morning Calm - and yes, its about taking a dump and hoisting fat chicks up into the air. Blah, Blah, Blah, same stuff different day.

Kidsclub decided to throw a Christmas party, which was first cancelled (because everyone hates whitey) and then put back on when the Koreans decided that race discrimination was a small price to pay so that they could get a free meal.

They put all of us in the Jigga section, right by the door totally exposed to the door leading outside. Elements, man, brutal. Half way through, I had to take a screaming dump, and when I finally hustled over to the bathroom saw my adversary: The squatter.

A squatter is basically a hole in the ground that you lean over and poop into. It's like the 10 meter platform dive for turds.

I dropped my pants and let my ass, the Memphis Belle, straife the bombing run. Years of shit training with Pledge Roz and Pledge Clay prepared me well, but I was a bit rusty, and so was my aim. My shit hit the side like Tony Hawk doing a railslide.

I admit it was cool to watch, until I tried to flush. I stood on the pedal for five minutes and nothing was moving my titanic iceberg of dookey. I could have sworn that the squatter may even have been tilted away from the drain just to fuck with people, hell, it's what I would have done if I was building toilets in Asia.

I was sweating, nervous that with my Karma, the one smoking hot Korean teacher (Kristina) would be the next to knock on the door.

Well, someone knocked.

It was LIT. Whooh. I begged him for help, but he was trashed and just laughed uncontrollably. I finally grabbed a bottle of bleach dumped it on the offending pooball and used the base of the jug to bat it into the drain. I did okay, but left several tell-tale signs that some inexperienced squatter had left a calling card. LIT flushed the urinal, and I said, "dude, I guarantee that Kristina is going to be waiting outside the door when we leave. And un-fucking-believeable, yes, there she was. LIT busted up; I busted up. She looked at me crazy. I only hope that she may have thought it was Tom because he is fatter and less attractive than me. Keep your fingers crossed.

Flash forward. The burly female Canadian teacher, Coach, was new to the Staff dinners and to Soju (a potato based liquor that smells like rubbing alcohol) so needless to say she was not prepared. One bottle will get most people drunk - she drank three.... and two big bottles of beer. Now Coach, who yes is an ugly chick, weighs about 190. No shit. This will be very important later.

Coach is very peppy, much like the J.V. volleyball coach. If she had a whistle, and asked me to do shuttles, I don't think I could turn her down. We made it to Noribong (karaoake), and she was stone-cold OUT. The honorable Mr. Park was petting her head and holding her in his arms (totally creepy) when he asked which gentleman would "take" her home. By "take" what he should have said was who will fireman-carry sling this enormous side of beef back to Kidsclub. Of course, I volunteered, I hadn't worked out as of yet. And thought this would be a great exercise for my upcoming real world/road rules English teacher in Korea Inferno party.

I put her in the sunset piledriver position and walked about 100 yards, when Song 6.0 told me to put her down because "she ulmos neked man". To my horror, her size 20 (trust me, guys, that's fat, normal human women wear between a 4 and 10) low-ride jeans were coming off and her XXL patagonia fleece was up around her armpits. Trying to be a gentleman, I dumped her like a sack of potatoes.... a whole fucking lot of prize winning potatoes. And redressed her. Damn, if it wasn't like covering the public pool after labor day.

Song tried to take a turn, and couldn't get out of the squat position, so LIT gave it a go. Now, LIT is 240 easy. But he was wasted. He tried several times.... failed. Tried several more times.... failed even worse and finally dropped her ass WWE style on the concrete. Panting, and sweating he uttered, "Fuck, dude, she's a deuce. Easy. A fucking deuce. Outta here."

I used every ounce of strength to get her back up, and just as I got her on my shoulder Song busts out: "Man, she leuk like a beeg fat peeg." Okay, yes, you kinda had to be there. But damn, if he isn't the funniest Asian man on the planet. No offense to the guy who played Takashi in Revenge of the Nerds. Well, shit, I lost it, and all 190 pounds of the Coach. She fell down, broke her crown, and I came tumbling after. Like Hogan in Wrestlemania III, I body slammed the giant. I was laughing, the coach was unfazed, and Song said this: "uhhmmmm, dhhhodhr mrresnt en tooom bah reeis." LIT busts out laughing, i'm laughing so hard I don't think I can have children any more, and the Coach....is still unfazed. LIT asks rhetorically "dude, what's he sayin'." I think Song tried to reply but it came out the same way. I composed myself, reaquired the package and marched, double-time to kidsclub. It was about 500 more yards back to school, and then up four flights of stairs.

Her door was locked of course, so I had to think quickly, the closest room that was unlocked was Fat Barf's (Famanda, a horrible chick from denver who hates America - I have been waiting for an opportunity to smite her with home-town pride).

With all of my ligaments about to snap, I dove into her room (the messiest room I have ever seen, including most abandoned crack houses) and plopped her on the bed. Soaking wet with sweat I walked out just as I heard her unleash what must have been years of stored up vomit. Yes. Dede-da Teacha = 1 ,Fat Barf = 0.

I went back to Noribong with Song and LIT, did a little New Kids, a little Queen, and walked home, sweaty and satisfied.


Dede-da Teacha