The Burly Unknown!

I knew you all could do it!  I just knew it.  Maybe I started off Mawndays a little too aggressively.  I didn’t mean to make you guys nervous.  By creating a Mawnday task in which you didn’t have to actually move, I managed to get a few responses.  Give yourselves a pat on the back.  I am so proud.  I may get a little weepy.

Last Mawnday, dear readers, I asked you to send in something.  Merely anything.  The response was overwhelming.  I got several emails offering me Viagra, an email offering to help me increase my “girth”, whatever that means, and an email from a scholarly gentleman from Africa who is down on his luck:  I am now awaiting a money transfer from Nigeria from a wealthy deposed monarch, for only a small advance fee!!

Here are some of the top responses:

1)  DarthPwnd’s Update Fail

DarthPwnd writes:

Ok here is this video just so I can call this one complete, but I reserve the right to update at any time between now and Monday with something funnier:

 Well, DarthPwnd.  Update fail.

BUT, he was the only one to provide a translation for the Xhosa quote from the previous Mawnday:

In my very serious culture, respect is most important.  I thought Mawnday tasks would make people feel good and light.  But they did not; I am now sentenced to death, thanks Burly Unknown.

No, thank you Imbebwe. 

If you want the real translation, I need at least three more fake ones.

2)  Justin’s funny and more than a little disturbing World of Warcraft freakout vid.

A little background if you can’t understand the kid at the beginning:  His mom just cut off his brother’s World of Warcraft account, and he is freaking out.  Enjoy.

Justin writes:

not sure if this is funny or not … well it is funny but …

…

… … …

Ahem, thank you, Justin.

I just want to know how that kid managed to get most of his clothes off.  Like an effing Houdini.

3)  Jon “The most awesome Mawnday Allstar of All Time” Wiese’s theory on how I ended up where I did.

Jon writes:

Many of you ask how this master of the financial industry ended up in Columbia? Well he may tell you he is a so called “Yes Man” but in reality he just got picked up by the wrong truck.

 
Tough Economic Times - Watch more Funny Videos

This is indeed true…

4)  Joe “The Greatest Candidate for a Corporate World Freakout and Follow in My Footsteps” Mishbernstein’s Beerslinger Belt

Simply follow this link.  You will not be disappointed.

5)  And finally, my own nerdy contribution to Mawnday

This is from the quote database.  It’s an awesomely nerdy site where you get to see hilarious quotes people put up on message boards.  Here’s one of my favorites:

<glowsun> I heard about this guy who broke into a lion’s den at the zoo
<glowsun> and got mauled
<glowsun> and people were talking about how there should have been better defenses put up to prevent people getting into the cage
<glowsun> a friend of mine suggested setting up some kind of deterrent
<glowsun> for example, putting some sort of fierce animal in the cage, which would attack anybody who climbed in

Nerds really are the funniest people out there.  Check out my thesis on nerdery.

Well there it is folks.  The first ever ridiculously awesome Mawnday ever.  Ever.  Thanks to everyone who participated.

FOR NEXT MAWNDAY!!!!!

I want everyone to send in a funny story.  It can be true or it can be one of those “friend of a friend” things.  I’ll start out with one of my own:

During college I was offered an internship with a big 4 accounting firm.  This is because I’m a big deal.  I accepted their meager offer out of a sense of charity.  Training for the internship was in Orlando, Florida.  As is typical with big corporate training events, everyone went out every night and got sloshed.  One night some trainees and I decided to go to one of those dueling piano bars that suburbs people love because they insert the word f*ck into Jimmy Buffet songs.  It’s safely racy.

Well, during the course of the evening, I got up to go to the bathroom across the bar.  As I was maneuvering through the closely packed tables, I gently hip-checked a table that happened to have one leg shorter than the others.  Due to this instability, a wine glass on the other side tipped over onto a girl.  Feeling like a jerk, I started to apologize profusely.  She pulled out a laminated printout of a keyboard and started to pantomine typing.  The lady next to her leaned over, peering intently at the girl’s flying fingers.  She looks up at me and deadpans, “She says ‘It’s all good.’”

I had spilled wine on a girl with Down’s Syndrome.  FML.

The big 4 firm had a contest the next day to see who had the best story from training.  I won.  The prize was a DVD of “Deuce Bigalo; Male Gigolo.”

Cartagena was nice, but there was not a whole lot for an adventurous soul like me to do.  You can only be propositioned by so many pros.

My buddy had a pal in Santa Marta, so we decided we would head that way and chill at the beach for a few days.  Before seeking adventure, of course.

Santa Marta was awesome and relaxing.  Beers on the beach and beautiful women all around.  We met some Colombian girls at the beach who invited us to go dancing that night.  It was my masterful grasp of espanol that ultimately wooed them.  That and stellar abs.

After gaining a glorious tan, I retired to the hostel with my buddies to shower and prepare for a night of ungainly white boy gyrations.  The girls were not to be disappointed.  I had actually never “gone dancing” before.  Hear me out; I took three years of dance lessons growing up.  I can waltz like a mofo and foxtrot the ladies into total consciousness.  I once cha-cha’ed a gal into orbit.  She was last seen grinning furiously near the wrecked remnants of sputnik.  However, my latin dancing skills were not exactly up to par.

These girls really meant it when they said we were going dancing.  We danced for about four hours straight whilst sipping on rum and cold beers.  It was an incredible night for us gringos.  The girls were graceful and beautiful and never ran out of steam.  However, I’m sure it was less than magical for them.  One of my friends took a video of me trying to salsa.  It was like watching a giraffe on ice skates.  A very short giraffe.  Sweating furiously and grimacing self-consciously.

Having to dance with beautiful women was really about the scariest thing that happened to me in Colombia. 

Welcome to Wednesday.  It comes before Thursday and two days after Monday.  It is also five days before next Monday.  Which means (and check my math) that you have five days to turn in your Mawnday assignments.  I already have three.  Don’t be left out.  Earle.  Harlow.  Laura.  Amy.  Robin.  etc.

This is from the same guy who tried to pay his bill with a picture of a spider.  I want to find him and be friends with him.  However, given his spelling of words like “colour” etc. I can only surmise that he lives overseas and has bad teeth.  Given the geographical and aesthetic obstacles to our friendship, I will have to remain satisfied with his emails.  Enjoy.

Date: Thursday 21 May 2009 11.18am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Pets in the building

Hello David

I have received your email and wish to remind you that the strata agreement states that no animals are allowed in the building regardless of if your apartment is soundproof. How many dogs do you have at the premises?

Helen

From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 21 May 2009 1.52pm
To: Helen Bailey
Subject: Re: Re: Pets in the building

Dear Helen,

Currently I only have eight dogs but one is expecting puppies and I am very excited by this. I am hoping for a litter of at least ten as this is the number required to participate in dog sled racing.

I have read every Jack London novel in preparation and have constructed my own sled from timber I borrowed from the construction site across the road during the night. I have devised a plan which I feel will ensure me taking first place in the next national dog sled championships.

For the first year of the puppies life I intend to say the word mush then chase them violently around the apartment while yelling and hitting saucepan lids together. I have estimated that the soundproofing of my apartment should block out at least sixty percent of the noise and the dogs will learn to associate the word mush with great fear so when I yell it on race day, the panic and released adrenaline will spur them on to being winners.

I am so confident of this being a foolproof plan that I intend to sell all my furniture the day before the race and bet the proceeds on coming first place.

Regards, David.

From: Helen Bailey
Date: Friday 22 May 2009 9.43am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

David, I am unsure what to make of your email. Do you have pets in the apartment or not?

Helen

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 22 May 2009 11.27am
To: Helen Bailey
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

Dear Helen,

No. I have a goldfish but due to the air conditioner in my apartment being stuck on a constant two degrees celcius, the water in its bowl is iced over and he has not moved for a while so I do not think he is capable of disturbing the neighbours.

The ducks in the bathroom are not mine. The noise which my neighbours possibly mistook for a dog in the apartment is just the looping tape I have of dogs barking which I play at high volume while I am at work to deter potential burglars from breaking in and stealing my tupperware. I need it to keep food fresh.

Once I ate leftover chinese that had been kept in an unsealed container and I experienced complete awareness. The next night I tried eating it again but only experienced chest pains and diarrhoea.

Regards, David.

From: Helen Bailey
Date: Friday 22 May 2009 1.46pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

Hello David

You cannot play sounds of dogs or any noise at a volume that disturbs others. I am sure you can appreciate that these rules are for the benefit of all residents of the building. Fish are fine. You cannot have ducks in the apartment though. If it was small birds that would be ok.

Helen

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 22 May 2009 2.18pm
To: Helen Bailey
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

Dear Helen,

They are very small ducks.

Regards, David.

From: Helen Bailey
Date: Friday 22 May 2009 4.06pm
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

David, under section 4 of the strata residency agreement it states that you cannot have pets. You agreed to these rules when you signed the forms.

These rules are set out to benefit everyone in the building including yourself. Do you have a telephone number I can call you on to discuss?

Helen

From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 22 May 2009 5.02pm
To: Helen Bailey
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

Dear Helen,

The ducks will no doubt be flying south for the winter soon so it will not be an issue. It is probably for the best as they are not getting along very well with my seventeen cats anyway. .

Regards, David.

From: Helen Bailey
Date: Monday 25 May 2009 9.22am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Pets in the building

David, I am just going to write on the forms that we have investigated and you do not have any pets.

Helen

Eureka!  Someone finally bit!  Now I don’t have to write any more fake Mawnday write-ins.  But I will anyway.

Dan from Minnesota writes:

I could never keep an erection before Mawndays.  Now, I can’t seem to stop!  I’m knocking over lamps!  Thanks Mawndays!

Imbebwe from Guateng writes:

uMfana(click) uzakubhata(click)la yonke into.  Ungathanda uku(click)dansa?  Sin(click)iqwenelela Ikrisim(click)esi Emnandi Nonyaka Om(click)tsha Ozele Iintsike(click)lelo!*

And finally, my close personal friend Wiese wrote in.  A little  background first.  Every year, Wiese invites people down to his condo in Key Biscayne for a man trip.  We play volleyball, fish, and drink margs.  It’s not very manly.  He writes:

I just wanted you to know I got a group of People in Key Biscayne to look straight up from our Balcony to see what I was looking at. Overall I think this was a success; however, I quickly noticed one major flaw in that we were on the 15th of 16 floors. Some may say I lost my audience by having little to look at but I say they are wrong becuase I was looking at superman.

Congrats Wiese, you are my first Mawnday all star.  You get a gold star.

OK, so I’m going to make this REAAAAAAAALLLLY easy.  Everyone send in a link or story that they think is funny.  This means you Earle, Harlow, Justin, Laura, Amy, Wiese, Wil, Carlton, Robin, etc.  If I’ve left you off get pissed off and write a mean comment.  Spanks!

*First person to translate this gets the awesome-o award.

After hanging out in Medellin for a couple of days, I decided it was time to get out of there and explore more of the country.  The way to travel through Colombia is by bus.  So if I were to travel in Colombia, it would follow that I would need to find a way to get on a bus.  Not just any bus either, but one that would be going to the destination that I wanted to visit.  Travel is complicated.  Just be glad I did all this for you and you only have to read about it.

The buses in Colombia are nice.  They are like spaceships when compared to the chicken buses in Guatemala that I had so much fun on.  What’s also nice is that there are actually organized terminals where you can catch these buses, as opposed to ripping your fingernails out trying to board a moving bus.

I went to the terminal to grab a bus (this is traditionally where one finds buses).  I had a traveling pal at this point and we decided to go to Cartagena.  Cartagena is a beautiful colonial city situated in northeast Colombia on the Carribbean coast.  It was originally where the Spanish would transport their gold they pillaged from the interior of South America.  This made it a popular target for pirates (and, I believe, ninjas.  Sea ninjas).  The Spanish authorities bolstered the defenses of the city with a fifty foot thick wall and several forts.  This is the old part of the city that has remained relatively unchanged over the years.  This is where I stayed.

Supposedly, Cartagena was besieged by gold seeking pirates for years at a time.  However, I believe that they were time traveling Burly Unknown groupies (looking for moi) that got the date wrong.  What an egregious misuse of technology.

Cartagena was really nice.  REALLY nice.  But it is one of the more touristy parts of Colombia.  There are a bunch of cruise ships coming in and people stay in really swank resorts in another part of town, so it follows that there is that element of the populace that is set up to fleece tourists.

Now I LOVE meeting locals, but not ones that follow you for three blocks trying to get you to exchange money with them for ridiculous rates.  I also love romance, but I don’t count it when a transvestite prosty leaps from the shadows and grabs my junk while screaming “sucky sucky!” at me.  I’m not here to judge others, but I’m more of a dinner and bottle of wine type of guy.

So that was Cartagena.  I was a little upset that some baser elements ruined it for me, and I’m sure that other people have had much better experiences than me, but I must have had on my best stupid gringo face that day, because a lot of folks sure did try to rip me off.  I was forced to vulcan neck pinch like a million Cartagenaens.

Hello friends,

The task for this week is to go into a crowded store/restaurant/area with a few of your friends and in a loud, melodramatic voice, exclaim, “Flee!  All is lost!”  Then proceed to do a navy seal crouch/run to your nearest exit.

Once again, feel free to expand upon this and add your own unique twist.  I suggest some of those glasses with the fake nose and moustache attached.

Go forth my devious little children!

Just to shake things up a little, I’m going to post about something other than Colombia.  Here is that post.

It has come to my attention that, since January, I’ve had 7 jobs.  What did I do before that to support myself?  NOTHING! GLORIOUS NOTHING!  This is not entirely true.  I did work at a hostel (here’s a story)for a bit.  My salary was beer.  Best.  Incentive.  Package.  Ever.  Oh and also liquor.

So now, beautiful readers, I am going to recount for your greedy little edification the jobs that I’ve had this year.  It has been (and continues to be) a beautiful ride.

1.  Doorman at a bar:

On Karaoke night (BOOYAH!).  Each Sunday I was a doorman at a bar.  I would check ID’s and sneak a cheeky beer every now and then.  This doesn’t seem so bad, but in a small town like Telluride where everyone thinks they’re a big deal, it can be un petit pain in el ass.  Here’s what a typical interaction would look like:

Dave Barman: (As the bar patron is brusquely brushing past me) Um, excuse me, can I see your ID?

Girl who thinks she’s the bomb.com: Seriously?

DB: Uhhh… Yeah… sorry…

Bomb.com: Do you not know who I am?

DB: Oh are you the girl with the horrible thyroid problem?

Bomb.com: What?

DB: err… nothing

Bomb.com: Well, I’ve lived here for four months, people know me.  You should know who I am.

DB: Oh I’m sorry, I just moved here Tuesday

And then I pull a Temple of Doom and rip her heart out (which inexplicably bursts into flames), all the while shouting in some dead language.  Ahhhh hyperbole, my favorite care bear.

So that’s job #1.

2.  Substitute teacher:

This was a fun job.  Apparently, they will let just anyone be a sub*.  Present company INcluded.  The only requirement is that you have to have a college degree and you don’t have any outstanding felonies.

Here’s how this went:  I would get a call in the morning**, and I would throw on my best (read: only) pair of khakis, a collared shirt, and a sweater and head to the school to enrapture the children with my scholasticness.  I would arrive a little early, look at the lesson plan, and decide how I would inspire the kids.  Most of the time the lesson was a movie or a worksheet.  Tough stuff.  I would then proceed to either teach the lesson or nod off in a corner.  The rare instances in which I would actually get to teach something, the kids would challenge me at every opportunity.

There was one math class that I taught where they were learning basic two-variable equations.  The kids were using a method they so cutely named “plug and chug.”  This meant guessing the answer over and over until they came close.  Being a huge nerd, this was not cute to me.  A typical response to a problem would be “about 15.7″.  This is infuriating to me.  There are no “abouts” in math.  I told them this in no uncertain terms.  I’m afraid I destroyed several self esteems.  I’m not proud of this***.

3.  Salto operator:

One of the best jobs ever.  A salto is a set of bungies that you connect to yourself whilst jumping on a trampoline.  This enables you to jump around 30 feet in the air and do somersalts.  Here is a link to the salto site if you need more explanation.  I would fling kids into the air at neckbreaking speed while their parents looked on in horror.  This in conjunction with my substitute teaching job allowed me to destroy children mentally AND physically.  I felt like I was doing a real thorough job.

The only problem with this job is that it was EXHAUSTING.  I was pulling against bungie cords all day trying to give a good ride to kids who didn’t have the wherewithal to jump… on a trampoline.  Some nights I would crawl home and lie panting and silently weeping under my sheets.

4.  Night auditor:

I posted briefly about this job earlier this year.  So I’m going to plagiarize the best writer of all time:  moi.  I “ran the numbers” for a five star hotel three nights a week.  For all you masochists out there, I can provide a rundown of what “run the numbers” actually means, but I don’t recommend it.  It’s not fascinating.

The best part of this job is that I would get off at seven in the morning, eat a huge breakfast/ bacon celebration, ski a half day, and then come home and crash.  However, staying up all night is not good for your sleeping patterns, especially if you have to loud roommates who can’t get it through their head that you work at night and are always wondering “why do you sleep so late david duurrr duurrr durrrr” while trying to chew their own ears off.

Well, it looks like you only get descriptions of four jobs this time.  Don’t look so glum, there is more to come.  I know you’ve TiVo’ed “Lost.”  So go wrap your atrophied little noggins around that and let uncle David set and rest awhile.

* In the movie “Hook” with Robin Williams, Rufio and grown up Peter Pan get in a war of insults.  One of Peter’s “lame” insults is “substitute math teacher.”  I find this hilarious.

**Most of my calls to sub came on days when it just snowed and the skiing was ridiculous.  I haven’t gotten a call since the season ended.  Coincidence?  I think not.

*** Weeellllll….

The next morning dawned bright and sunny.  I leaped from my (bunk) bed, eager to test my mettle against whatever Medellin could throw at me.

The night before I questioned one of the hostel workers about activities in Medellin.  She mentioned something about paragliding.  Now what could be better than strapping yourself to a few yards of cloth and heaving yourself off a cliff in a developing country?  I’m sure there are several Colombian organizations in charge of oversight and standards in terms of paragliding.

Me and one of my new friends navigated our way through Medellin, taking in the sights and smells.  We made our way through the hills that surround the city and arrived at a plateau overlooking Medellin.  This was said cliff from which we were to bodily hurl ourselves.  What fun.

I was given my instructions on how not to die… in Spanish.  Given my masterful grasp of the language, I was confident that I would escape with a mere spinal injury.

We strapped in some sort of tandem paragliding harness and prepared to heave off.  The instructor gave the word and we began galloping towards the edge of the cliff at a blistering rate.  Our feet left the ground and, per my instructors…um… instructions, I squealed like a small child and peed my pants a little.

We gracefully soared through the air, my instructor whispering soothing words in my ear as I clenched my eyes shut and held my breath.  Once I was done with this perfectly natural and understandable transition period, I cracked my tear blurred eyes and began to enjoy the view.

We made our way around the valley, catching thermals and enjoying the view.  After about 30 minutes of soaring and periodic panicking, we glided to a gentle stop on the plateau where we alighted like a butterfly on a petal.

Afterward, I laid flat on my back for about thirty minutes waiting for the world to stop spinning.  I made my way back to the hostel where I stuck out my chest and bragged about how I punched an airplane in the face while paragliding.

Here ends day two of my trip to Colombia.  Stay tuned for more stories in two days!