Ringo Loves/Hates Manila

One of my New Year’s resolutions was to try to like Manila more. The past week I was doing well. Jen and I took up Tagalog lessons again. (That’s the language of the Philippines). I even created a new phrase that is sweeping Manila. “Mataas na lima!” That means literally, “A tall-looking number five.” Say this to any Philipino you know, and hold your hand up to receive a hi-5. If they don’t have any idea what you are talking about, inform them that they are not cool. I made my students memorize it, and their homework this weekend was to spread that across the city.

Our friends Tim and Lisa came to visit us from China for the weekend. We took them on an awesome walking tour of Manila by Carlos Cedran. I learned lots about my new home city. For example, many of the socially elite families in the Philippines are partially descended from wealthy Chinese who arrived in the 1800’s. The last names were just changed to sound more Spanish. The tour guide rattled off about 50 famous families. I think I teach all of them at my school.

But then I come to hate Manila as well. Here’s the conversation that led to my driver’s license being confiscated:

Policeman: “Sir. You were going the wrong way on a one-way street.”
Ringo: “What? Was there a sign?”
Policeman: “Yes sir. Come. I’ll show it to you.”
Ringo: “Wow. I missed it. That’s the size of a postage stamp though. Maybe the 5 of you policeman would be better for safety if you put up a bigger sign instead of just waiting for someone to go the wrong way.”
Policeman: “Sir, I have to confiscate your license. And you have to go to traffic school.”
Ringo: “Wow. That sucks. How about I pay you a bribe?”
Policeman: “Good idea sir. Let’s drive into a dark alley.”

We drive into a dark alley.

Policeman: “Sir. I will do you a favor. I will give you your license back and go to traffic school for you.”
Ringo: “Awesome! Mataas na lima!”
Policeman: “Yes sir. You just need to pay me 1 bizillion pesos.”
Ringo: “You’re crazy.
Policeman: “But sir, regulation #4359 states clearly that the amount for bribery tonight is 1 bizillion.”
Ringo: “Talaga? (really?) Why don’t you just keep my license? Store it safely in your anal cavity till I finish traffic school.”

Things deteriorated from here. So I am now the only expat I know who has refused to pay the bribe. Tomorrow I have to go City Hall to bribe the guy there. I’ll keep you all posted.

A One Minute Tour of Awesometown

I’m a high roller. So is Jen. Here in Manila, we live on the east side in a deluxe apartment in the sky. I wanted to make a video so you all could see the splendor that is Awesometown. However, I realize the average internet user has the attention span of a 5-year-old, so I limited the video length to one minute. Our place is so huge though, that this required me to sprint through the house. I added the energetic music just because it makes me smile. Enjoy.

The One Minute House Tour

Posted 55 Minutes Ago

Here is where Jen and I live in Manila. In high speed action mode.

Ringo's Cinematographic Drawing Board

As I was flying back from Japan last night, I was thinking what would happen if you combined a record player, a tripod, a toy car, a video camera, and a dash of scotch. (These are the things I think about on a regular basis). Today I tried it. Check out the short pilot episode below.




I’m considering employing this type of camera work in my next music video, so let me know what you think of it. Hold on though. I can’t have all 10,000 of you loyal readers posting individually and overloading the server like that incident in 2002. Instead, maybe you can attend a caucus to coordinate your opinions and then choose a leader to voice your ward’s opinion. Isn’t that how things work in Iowa for the primary election? Elections confuse me.

Even Ninjas Have Families

Jen and I are still in Japan, and until quite recently, so was the rest of the Swinehart family. Fortunately the addition 3 more people made travel easier, since they all brought with them some made skills. Such as......

George Swinehart (Jen's dad): Fluent speaker of Japanese and many other languages.
Marilyn Swinehart (Jen's mom): Master of chopsticks
Andrew Swinehart (Jen's brother): Renonwned scholar / importer of Japanese comics

We all travelled around Japan for over a week. We went to Hiroshima to see the atomic bomb site. it was very impressive. Then to Kyoto, the cultural center of japan. We saw lots of temples and even a castle. We climbed to the top of the castle, but guess what? That's right. The princess was in another castle. So then we went on to level 8, which was back in tokyo. All in all an awesome family visit.

Bad news America. Japan is kicking our ass in several areas. Here are a few.
1. Public transport. Most awesome in the world.
2. Food on conveyor belts. We ate sushi from a conveyor belt and then had beer delivered by a minuature bullet train.
3. Robots. I saw a competition on TV between japanese robots. It made the US Battle-Bots look like it was done by 3rd graders.
4. Vending Machines: There is one vending machine for every two people in Japan. For some reason Tommy Lee Jones is on half of them. And they distribute beer.

Konichiwa Monkeytown

Jen and I are in Japan. It is extremely awesome, or `Shirabashi!` as i have been told to say.

Today i went to the Mt. Takasaki Nature reserve. this place is known because 1 bizillion monkeys show up there all the time. Its not a zoo with monkeys behind cages, theyre walking right past you, between familiies, etc. its impressive yet alarming. i dont know if they are just unaweare that they outnumber the humans in the park by 100 to 1, or if they just like the good feedings. but they could do some serious damage if they liked.

all signs and announcements were in Japanese. so when all the monkeys started jumping over my head, running through my legs, and coming out of hte woodwork, i had no idea what was going on. i thought the monkey messiah was about to descencd from above. instead, some poor guy with a huge cart of apples went sprinting through the monkey park as about 1000 monkeys sprinted towards him with great passion. i have never seen anything quite so awesome yet scary. the stronger monkeys jumped onto the moving cart, while the rest caught the spilling apples. how that poor guy did not get ripped limb from limb ill never know. i thought i was sabout to watch monkeys go carniverous. im pretty sure that guy was doing this as community service.

Mr. T Gives a Shout-out to Moms

I pity the fool who don’t treat his mother right. There are few words needed to introduce this classic video that was somehow left off the “Greatest Videos of All Time List.” Without further ado, I present to you, “Treat Your Mother Right,” by Mr. T.

Coup d'etat!!

Yesterday there was a coup attempt against the president here in my neighborhood! Here’s how it went down.*

A few generals and senators were on trial for corruption and starting a coup against president Arroyo a while back. The trial was getting boring, so the generals and senator stood up and said, “This party’s dead anyway. Peace out.”

They then marched across the street (with a few dozen minions) to the 5-star Peninsula Hotel for cocktails. They were surrounded by police who didn’t try to stop them because they knew staging a coup would make the Philippines more exciting for everyone. The security guards of the hotel had guns, but they realized these generals coming at them enjoyed using guns. So they wisely got the hell out of there.

The coup leaders then kicked all the guests out, popped open the Crystal, and began texting hos to come kick it with them. Their initial statement to the press was, “When President Arroyo sees how many shorties we got behind us, she will step down immediately, or at least come join our posse.”

Unfortunately for the coup leaders, it was raining yesterday. So the thousands of supporters never quite made it. To make things worse, thousands of Marines decided they liked President Arroyo, and that she paid the bills. It also seemed pretty novel to throw tear gas into a 5-star hotel, so they did that. They also drove a tank through the doors, and fired their guns into the air like Yosemite Sam.

The coup leaders then issued another statement saying, “We give up. Thanks for nothing to all of our so-called-friends who didn’t join our coup.”

GMA (the president) then said “Everyone is very tired from a busy day and needs their sleep. The whole country must be in bed by midnight, or you will go to jail, just like all the journalists that were arrested today.”

* I am not a journalist, and thus, I make no claims that what I present is true. In fact, I make a lot of stuff up.

Marathon = Cancelled

Meet my new physical therapist. His name is Johnny. He’s only 12 years old, but he’s been around the block a time or two.

Today I cancelled our flight to Singapore for the marathon. There’s no way I would have finished it. Since a twenty mile run last month, my knee has been messed up. Rest and physical therapy kept me in denial about the injury, but I barely made it 6 miles tonight in my run.

The Greatest Day Ever

Good news everyone. Monday, Nov. 26 is a holiday. Don't go to work. Or to school. It is international "Stay at Home and Revel in Missouri's Victory Over Kansas Day." Whatis the point of going in? How much can you really accomplish when there are hundreds of articles to be read that give every detail of Mizzou's victory over Kansas? All you will do is keep asking if the rankings have come out yet. And when the rankings do come out, all you will do is try to pick the best frame to hold the color print-out that says, "Missouri Tigers, #1 in the Nation." Unbelievable.

It's OK to Hate

This week will be a celebration of hate. Usually this is not OK. People automatically tend to think of terrible things like “hate crimes,” which are obviously bad. However, to hate an establishment such as the University of Kansas is 100% OK. It’s better than OK, because it’s fun.

It really can’t get any more fun than 10-1 Mizzou playing undefeated Kansas at Arrowhead Stadium next Saturday. I’m sweating just thinking about it. Cheering on one’s favorite team in an apocalyptic game is a great feeling. For example, every second of the Cardinals vs. Tigers World Series was the embodiment of awesome. However, the upcoming border war could be even bigger for one important reason. I don’t hate the Detroit Tigers, but I very much hate the Kansas Jayhawks. Mathematically, it works like this:

Love of one team + hatred of opposing team = 2 x Awesome.

If you’re reading this, do yourself a favor. When you Hi-5 a fellow Tiger fan, don’t just say, “How about them Tigers?” Quickly follow that statement with a “How about those pig-****-ing Jayhawks?” Next to your giant black and gold MU flag, tie a noose around a blue and red bird. If you donate to Mizzou scholarship fund, see what you can do to embezzle funds from the state of Kansas.

7 days and counting. M-I-Z Beat-K-U

Still on the Horse, But I See Mongo Coming

My knee has been put in a state of rest. The doctor can’t find anything wrong with it, so the diagnosis is overtraining. The cure is rest. The question is if I have enough time to rest it before the Singapore Marathon on Dec. 2. That’s in 2.5 weeks. In the meantime I can ride a stationary bike. I can also stretch. I can also see a physical therapist. I can also stock up on beer, whiskey, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, heroin, and other vices that I plan on taking up if my knee forces me to miss my second marathon in a year. If you fall off the horse once, get back on. If you fall off twice, then you punch the horse in the face like that guy Mongo from blazing saddles.

My Physical and Mental Instability

I’m on the edge. After over two months of training for a marathon in the smog capital of the world, my knee decides to start acting up. This is not something I’m not mentally able to deal with. Here’s why….
1. After over two months of training of last year in Manila, I broke my foot.
2. I’ve been severely limiting my intake of caffeine.
3. I’ve been severely limiting my intake of alcohol.

Those 3 things: caffeine, alcohol, and not being broken, are all 3 of my favorite things. If my knee doesn’t get better, I may have to eat a can of instant coffee, wash it down with rubbing alcohol, and start chucking things out my 13th floor window until I break someone else.

Actually my knee is not that bad. I can still run, but it starts to hurt every time after about 30 minutes. That’s bad enough for me to be concerned. I’m resting it, and it should end up ok. But I’ve got some Nescafe and Isopropyl in my desk drawer just in case.

Dingoes and Whores

This past week has been a great one. My younger brother, aka The Dingo, is currently out to visit. Hence the Dingo part of this entry’s title. Myself, the Dingo, Jen, and Craig have all just returned from the Philippine island of Siquijor (pronounced Sig-ee-whore). Hence the whore part of the title. We chose this island solely based on the name.

After catching a taxi, to an airplane, to van, to a ferry, to a jeepney, we finally arrived at our island resort. It was awesome. Palm trees, huts, hammocks, geckos, etc. They also had awesome food.*

The island was about 10 miles in diameter, and the best way to see a lot of it is by motorbike. We rented these and spread terror into the hearts of all by the intimidating picture we made rolling into the barangays (neighborhoods). We were actually pretty popular wherever we went, but Jen could have run for mayor in every place. Blond white women on motorbikes don’t roll through town every day apparently. Go figure.

I’m still in training for the Singapore marathon, so I had to put in a lot of miles as well. I wasn’t as popular as Jen, but I was no less a spectacle when running. Besides the normal “Hey Joe!” several people chose to shout “Manny Pacquiao!” He is a famous Philipino boxer. It’s not that I look like Pacquiao; it’s just that he and I are apparently the only people stupid enough to run for the sake of exercise in the Philippines. Whilst dodging caribou and goats on an 20 mile run, i managed to suck down 2 packets of energy goo. That suuff is awesometown. I now spread it on toast.

We have since returned to Manila where we recently went out to the Malate area in costume for Halloween. Funny enough, we were just about the only people in costume. Bizarre.

Today, I took Greg on every tourist’s favorite part of SE Asia: bootleg DVD shopping! However, karma intervened as we were pulled over on the motorbike on the way home and I had to bribe the policeman out of taking my license. The best part was that when I handed him my license, he said I should not have clipped money to it. “This makes me think you are trying to bribe me sir.” He then asked for more money. I love the philippines.

* Craig made a vow to eat bacon with every meal during our trip. He succeeded, and is currently still on the streak. I try to spend a lot of time with Craig, since his cardiologist suggests he will not live past 35 at this rate.

U Can't Touch This

Here's our latest video, I hope you all enjoy.



if this doesn't work, try
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk31DTtP4_4

Back on a Horse named Marathon

It’s like the old saying goes, “If at first you try to run, but then break your foot whilst photographing a gecko; try, try again.”

So I’m going to attempt, once again, to run a marathon. This one happens in Singapore on Dec. 2,(see The Singapore Marathon) and should be a sizable affair. I expect there will be over 30,000 people there. Yes, surprisingly enough, there are that many people who think running that far along the equator in 100% humidity is a good idea.

Training has begun already. I’ve been running with the high school cross country team a good bit and keeping up pretty well. My formerly broken foot seems to be pretty close to normal. I’ve also been staying away from geckos.

Fortunately, Jen will venture to Singapore with me for the Marathon. She will cheer me on and look into ordering Singapore Slings immediately after the race. I don’t know what that drink is, but odds are I’ll have one. A few other colleagues from my school will also be competing in the race.

A little known fact about Manila: Of the 12,345 major-world-metropolises, Manila is currently ranked 12,343rd* as best place to train for a marathon, based on its available open spaces, traffic, pedestrian paths, and air quality.

* 12,344th is Baghdad; 12,345th is the Lost City of Atlantis

My Nephew Fernando

I am an uncle! I would like to thank my Brother Jeff and Sister-in-law Kelly for bestowing this title upon me. Aunt Jen says the same.

I hope you're able to see the picture above of Jeff, Kelly, and Fernando. I wish I knew who took that shot.

Just a couple of days ago, on Sept. 1, little Fernando Dingrando was born at somewhere between 5 and 10 pounds. His true name has not yet been divulged, so he will be known as Fernando until I hear otherwise. Actually, probably longer. One of my students actually suggested Alexandro Dingrando as a more exotic possibility. I almost like that better, but I didn’t think of it, so it gets 2nd place.

Jen and I are immediately diverting our attentions to buying ridiculous shit for the little tyke. Mainly Halloween costumes. It is our goal to supply him with enough costumes in enough sizes to last him until he’s 16. I’m currently having a pink bunny suit* tailor made for a zero-year-old. It will say on it, “My Uncle went to Manila and all I got was this ridiculous pink bunny suit.”

Hong Kong Fooey

I have seen the future, and it is Hong Kong.

Jen and I made use of our long weekend (Happy Nino Aquino day everyone!) by traveling to Hong Kong. It is an ass-kicking city. Here’s why.

• Trains! First go underground about 15 stories and hope the sea doesn’t come in. Then buy a magical pass (called an Octopus card) that you keep in your wallet. Third, just wave your wallet at the turnstile as you go through.* Then you get on the train and go to a new magical place. You can even use your card to buy things at 7-11.
• Big Buddha! Take the train out to beautiful countryside and see a huge metal Buddha the size of Optimus Prime. You can also burn incense the size of a baseball bat.
• Giant Escalator! I dig moving walkways of all sorts. When I learned that it is a means of commuting to work in Hong Kong, I nearly applied for a working visa. It’s got to be almost a mile long. It flows down from the hills in the morning, and then reverses in the pm to get drunken businessmen home.
• Halloween Street: We found a street full of wigs, costume jewelry, and disco balls. All with negotiable prices. Jen and I would have cleared all the shelves if we weren’t trying to pay off our honeymoon. Good thing I swapped my watch for a giant disco ball.
• Conveyer Belt Sushi: This isn’t unique to Hong Kong, but you can’t help but love it when food comes to you on a conveyor belt. Special music from an old cartoon plays in my head whenever I see this.

Now I have another long weekend to celebrate my friend’s 40th birthday. Whoot whoot! Ask me about the Fredstock 2007 Toga Celebration in case I forget to tell you. It’ll be big.

* Given another day, I was considering an experiment where I would swallow my octopus card and then hump the turnstile for entrance. Despite the comedic value of this, time did not allow.

Thriller Mania in Cebu

Thanks to the MANY who have brought this Philippine awesomeness to my attention. Check out the dancing inmates of Cebu city (south of Manila).



if this doesn't work, paste this into browswer....
http://youtube.com/watch?v=hMnk7lh9M3o

Apparently, the warden had the idea to introduce the dancing. Here’s a news story that covers it (poor sound).

http://youtube.com/watch?v=UWf3y6r0kmA

wow wow wow. The internet has done so much for this world.

A Mosquito Gang Bang

Wow. How 'bout that for a title?

So far me and Jen's honeymoon in the Canadian Rockies has met expectations of awesomeness.

Most recently we witnessed the Calgary Stampede, which is like moving Texas up north and removing the drawl. Why have i never been to a rodeo till now? My life was previously empty. Strapping crazy people to large angry animals is probably the closest thing we'll ever to see to Roman Colosseum type activities.* I also bought an Elvis Belt buckle which i will wear every day to school until they make me stop.

Before that I took Jen on her first backpacking trip in Banff national Park. And as the title of this post says, it was indeed a Mosquito gang bang. Few people now the life cycle of a mosquito. Here it is.
1. During end of summer, mosquito's lay eggs in water.
2. Water freezes on top. Eggs hatch below.
3. While water is frozen, mosquitoes get dirty, and create baby mosquitoes.
4. Baby mosquitoes repeat step 3, until water thaws next summer. This is a long time in Canada.

By the time Jen and I hiked into Banff, these 3-bizillion inbred blood starved mosquitoes were ready to violate us in ways i can't even talk about. Other than that, Banff is an awesome park. we saw really cool stuff.

Global warming is a real issue my friends. I think a couple of dinosaur-age-mosquitoes laid eggs underneath Antarctica. And thus those mosquitoes have been humping and starving for about 1 million years. When they thaw out, lord help the kiwis, Australians, and Chileans. They'll be like the people eaten by waves of jungle ants in that awesome episode of Macgyver. Nothing but bones. (more like a deflated, bloodless sack in this case)

However, Jen still really enjoyed the backpacking trip, and still likes me. This is a sign of her awesomeness.

* Ringo does not endorse the feeding of Christians (or any religions) to wild animals.

Like MacArthur, I'm coming back

Back to the US tomorrow! Woooooooooooooo!

I will………
• Eat McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches
• Drink American beer
• Breathe clean air
• Go to a baseball game, and listen to games on the radio
• Run on streets without fearing for my life
• See friends and family.
and most of all, get married.

not necessarily in that order.

Bebot - The Video

You've all been waiting. The long awaited third video by Ringo and Craig. To the music of the Blackeyed Peas, I present, Bebot



if this doesn't work, paste this into your browser.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4g3r0xRjQjs

Podcasting Like a Flock of Whales

Unlike my younger brother*, I have a face for radio. Thus I’m taking a break from all of my calendar shoots and music video making to enter the world of podcasting. Since the telephone is not my favorite medium, and I haven’t been calling any of you much, you probably miss the sound of my voice. In fact, there’s no probably about it, I’m sure you miss my voice. Good news my sad friends. I’m on the web. Check it out.

The Prophet Ringo speaks!!!

If this is successful, I’m told I can set it up so that your ipod automatically downloads my newest podcast. This way, you can listen to me during your morning commute so as not to miss any important Ringo announcements.

* He claims he can be seen on Channel 7, “The Spirit of Missouri.”

Hammertime at Scubataha

Ahoy me hearties! I can speak like this because I’ve been at sea. I certainly haven’t been at sea this whole time (since my last blog entry), but I was winded since making that Thriller Video.

Why have I been at sea? Glad you asked. Jen and I (and 18 other teacher friends) were on the scuba expedition of a lifetime. You know it was life changing, because my friend Fred and I made t-shirts to commemorate the event. And we got tattoos that match the t-shirts.

We flew to the island of Palawan (known for monkeys that do naughty things in public) and then boarded the Stella Maris, which is much like a Carnival cruise ship in quality, but nothing like that in any other way. The Stella Maris then set sail for some crazy atoll, Tubbataha, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. An atoll is an island that started to grow up from the ocean, but then gave up about one foot short of breaking the surface. Then, in tropical places, coral goes apeshit on the atoll and grows everywhere. Fish like coral and warm places, so they go to atolls for spring break, much like people.

Our dive master’s name was Ivan Drago. He was actually German, but he was muscular, blonde, and if he ever said, “I must break you,” at any point in his life, it was probably during the filming of Rocky IV.

Our ship then parked near the atoll and we scuba dove three to five times every day. Even at night. It was crazy-go-nuts. We saw sharks, sea turtles, octopi, iridescent jellyfish, and more. There were two highlights. One was a hammerhead shark that was nearly as awesome as MC hammer. The second was a giant manta ray. Manta rays and hammerhead sharks are famous for disproving the theory of Intelligent Design because there is absolutely nothing intelligent about their design.

Then we sailed back home. This consisted of 12 hours of rocking back and forth so intensely that I went into the fetal position and promised myself I’d never go on a boat again.*

All in all, awesome trip! Definitely doing it again next spring break!


* Did you ever see that Bugs Bunny episode? The one where the ship rocked one way, and the soup slid towards Bugs, and he took three quick bites. Then the ship rocked the other way, and the bowl slid towards Yosemite Sam, and he took three quick bites. It was exactly like that. I live in a cartoon.

The Thriller Music Video

It's complete. Make sure you watch this so you know the moves for the wedding.

The Time Has Come the Walrus said,

To talk of many things.

Last week we had no classes in the high school. Instead all the kids and teachers were out in the provinces on service trips. Myself and the some students stayed in the village of Tugdaan at a school for indigenous kids. It was really boss, and I should say a lot of inspiring things about how moving it was. Those things would all be true, but I’ll let the pictures speak to that when I get them online. Instead let me comment on how 21 rich city slickers watched how pork goes from being alive to becoming pork chops. I’m pretty sure half the kids became vegetarians. (No worries Gants, not me!)

Upon returning to the city, I ran my longest pre-marathon training run at about 19 miles. It was not very fun. However, you should all be aware that if you are white and running in the Philippines and someone shouts “Hey Joe!” They are speaking to you, because you are representing GI Joe. But, if you actually stop to recite a moral lesson about not hiding in a refrigerator while playing with your friends, and then finish the lesson by saying, “Knowing’s half the battle. Go Joe!” They will stare at you blankly.*

My friend Elaina and I choreographed the thriller dance for the wedding. This consisted mainly of us watching the video, and then telling ourselves how awesome we were. Would a How-To video be useful for you all to practice before the wedding? Don’t say I won’t do it.

* Does anyone know what the hell I’m talking about?

The Manila Marathon - Prelims

I’ve decided I’m going to run a marathon. There’s no backing out now, as I ran 16 miles yesterday. What better place to run your first marathon than Manila? It’s the most humid place on earth and the particular marathon hosted here is technically uphill. (It starts on the bay and follows the river inland). It also starts at 4:30 in the morning. You’d be crazy to not take part in such an enjoyable experience.

The Philippine Marathon

That aside, I’m all in. I’ve been training since about Christmas-time. I won’t bore you with the training schedule, but don’t think for a minute it doesn’t still involve my good friend San Miguel. In my training, I’ve learned a lot about the Philippines. For example, it is illegal to run with your shirt off. When the sun is out here, it gets hot, so I figured I’d just take my shirt off while running through one of the local neighborhoods. I was quickly stopped by an official looking man with a gun.

Guy with Gun: Sir. What are you doing?
Sweaty Ringo: (pause to acknowledge the obvious) Running.
Guy with Gun: You cannot run with no clothes on.
Sweaty Ringo: I have no clothes on?
Guy with Gun: Sir, we have gotten complaints.
Sweaty Ringo: Complaints?
Guy with Gun: You pay a fine sir.
Ringo: (pause, silence)

Here we came to a draw. I had to run with a shirt on because he had a gun. But, he could not extract a bribe, since I obviously had no cash, nor even an identification to confiscate.* So I ran off.

The race is less than a month away, on Feb. 24, so look for race results on the blog sometime then. Until that time, I’ll be running a lot. With clothes on.

* I was not so lucky when pulled over on my motor bike. On that occasion, the policeman rode with me on the back of my motorbike around the corner, where he extracted an exorbitant bribe from me in order to return my driver license.

The Monster Dance

Good news my friends. The wedding of myself and Jen will be really awesome. Here’s why.

We decided that it is not entertaining for the first dance of our wedding reception to be only for the bride and groom to slow dance to whilst Bryan Adams sings “Everything I Do (I Do It for You),” from the hit movie, Robin Hood. We talked to several reputable sources (ourselves) for suggestions, and have concluded there is only one option.

Choreographed Thriller Dance!!!! Woooooooooooooooo! This will be our first dance. It will be involve multiple people.

You love the monster dance? I know you do. And how about that zombie shoulder shrug? It’s in. You want to see bridesmaids and groomsmen in full-on wedding regalia reenacting the greatest video ever? Me too. Done.

Of course this means the rehearsal dinner is now a real rehearsal. Make sure you are stretched out.

Oh yes. June 30th is looking very probably like the day. Please clear your calendars and try to forget that I may have….
A. Missed your wedding.
B. Attended your wedding, and horribly embarrassed you and your parents.
C. Caused several of your past relationships to fail, due to our super-hard-core lifestyle exhibited in Columbia, Kansas City, Denver, St. Louis, Australia etc.

In A Box - Andy Samberg and Justin Timberlake Digital Short

If you enjoyed the Chronic of Narnia 1/10th as much as i did (or 1/1000th as much as Dara), you will like this. Let me know if the link stops working.

Good Night Bangkok

Jen and I are leaving Bangkok tomorrow. I fear that the rest of the world will seem predictable and mundane. This is because i have now seen it all. I realize that you readers would like me to describe the wonders and horrors that I saw. I'm not ready for that. I will need a good deal of time and an equal amount of therapy before i can fully release my mind from the fetal position it is in.

All in all, Bangkok has been fantastic. Jen and I loved it. Recommended for all. Except children. and conservatives. and those with morals.

Now we're back to the the Philippines for a tropical Xmas!

wooooooooooooo.

One Night In Bangkok

Bangkok, Oriental setting
And the city don't know that the city is getting
The creme de la creme of the chess world in a
Show with everything but Yul Brynner

As I'm sure you all know, one night in Bangkok can make a hard man crumble. So just think what an entire week is doing to me.

Currently Jen and I are in Sin City, Thailand. We arrived Saturday and met Jen's former roommate, Lisa, and her husband Tim. This was not a coincidence, as they teach English here in Thailand. However, their hometown is lacking things like go-go dancers, booze, and illegal items, so they were as excited as I was. We all swapped stories and drank beer out of a giant bubble gum machine that they brought to our table. I'll try to include a picture someday. it was awesome.

Next day we saw China town and rode around the river in boats like we were in Miami Vice. We also saw more than our share of dogs humping in the street.

Tim and Lisa had to leave. Jen and I then saw some kick ass temples and buddhas. After cleansing our souls, we bought lots of trademark infringed objects, pirated movies, and other stuff that seemed awesome at the time, but maybe tomorrow won't seem to be the steal that we thought it was.

Today we swapped hotels to something really swank. I celebrated this by buying a T-shirt that said, "Movin on Up" I'm sure this T-shirt was produced illegally. somehow. Tonight the club scene is right near our new hotel, so Jen and I will see if we can make the world our oyster.

One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster
The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free

Ringo and Craig's Xmas Video

My friend Craig and I were nominated to MC the staff Xmas party here at the International School of Manila. We thus decided to make a documentary video of our preparation for the event. I hope you enjoy it. Special thanks to Kevin for editing. Also thanks to Anna for helping us entertain the people for the remaining 2 hours after our video finished.

My International Music Career

For the first time since the glory of days of KC and KT (Kansas City and Kevin Taylor) I’m in a band. We’ve had many names: The Whatevers, Powergrade, Sexpatriots, etc. I encourage you to offer suggestions. It is made up of my fellow colleagues and me. (Soula, James, Tricia, and Jen Smith) This is fitting, since my social life strictly revolves around colleagues. Good thing it’s a big school, and filled with great people.

So far we’ve had two gigs. The most recent will perhaps explain my school. It was a foam party held at the high school. If I had suggested “foam party” at any public US high school, everyone would picture some freaky-deaky scene from Cancun, and answer with a resounding “No.” Not at ISM my friends.

Not only was there a foam machine, there was also a stage, a slip-n-slide, 4 gazillion dollars worth of sound and light equipment, inflatable decorations, and roadies to set it all up. I’ve never had anyone installing microphones on my drum before. It was the definition of crazy.

Plus, from what I could tell, everyone was sober. And they remained fully clothed. I’m pretty sure that in the US, neither of those two events would have happened.

Crazy.

Anyway, we played cover songs and it was awesome. We did No Doubt, Jet, Green Day, and my personal favorite, Presidents of the United States of America (Peaches). I’m going to celebrate their entire collection. I recommend you do the same.

Trivia Night and the FPA

Assuming we are not on strike or taking shelter from Typhoons, Tuesday’s are trivia nights. Our team name is the FPA. As you should know, that stands for Fist Pumping Action. Which obviously means whenever we get a question right, that we exhibit a ridiculous amount of one handed pumping action. Sometimes both hands if we’re especially riled up.*

This would normally cause us to be hated by other teams. Fortunately for them, we don’t get to fist pump very often, as we are not very good. At least not very good at answering questions. However, we win the costume contest every time. We award this prize to ourselves. This is easy to win since no one else dresses up.

Just in case someone decides to challenge us for the costume prize (hard to do since we are also the judges), we switch up our costume weekly. We have also gone as Golf Pros and Tennis Hos, and The Whig Party to name a few.

action photos!

* I have to give citation to the KC based group known as the Boss Tweeds for giving us the idea of turning trivia into a costumed affair, and specifically to Aaron for bringing fist pumping action back into my life.

Why I Live in Manila

One of the best things about moving to a new place and making new friends is that you can recycle some of your best material. When looking at the picture above (assuming my internet allows it), those of you in the States are probably thinking, “Ho hum. Ringo’s in the astronaut costume again.”

However, at my friend Steve’s 30th birthday, people actually broke into applause for the astronaut costume. The theme of the “fancy dress” party was 60’s and 70’s, but no one expected Neil Armstrong to show up.* Jen and I were immediately facing a half dozen flashing cameras. Sort of like facing the paparazzi for about 30 seconds.

I fully understand if you readers are questioning the part about “applause” and “flashbulbs.” I tend to believe that people are always applauding my actions and taking photos. However, Jen confirmed it. It really happened.

* "Fancy dress" means "costume party" if you hail from the British Commonwealth. I'm not really in the habit of using that term, but i like to sound of it. Almost as much as "Aluminium."

Motorbikes

I ride a motorbike to work every morning. So does Jen.

If anyone such as Kevin, Dre, Gants, etc is reading this, they’re probably laughing their ass off if they can see the picture. These people either own, or have previously owned a legitimate motorcycle. Mine is certainly not a motorcycle. It only has 110 cc’s, whereas I think a real motorcycle has something like 4 x 106 cc’s. My bike in the US would probably be classified as a “scooter.” I’m ok with that. It is at least shaped like a motorcycle.

Actually it’s shaped like a dirt bike. I know this because the guy who sold it to me, said, in broken English, “This not dirt bike. It look like dirt bike, but if you jump…….” At this point he made a symbol with has hands as if breaking a large branch over his knee. I promised him I would not pretend to be playing Excite Bike.*

It doesn’t really go very fast either. But that’s OK also, because neither does Manila traffic. In a taxi, I could spend 40 minutes traveling 4 miles home after work. Most of this time you are stopped. With a motorbike, you are allowed, actually expected, to simply ride slowly through the stopped cars to the front of the traffic light. It’s a pretty great system.

Jen and I also have extremely large helmets and padded motorcycle jackets. The padded jackets are probably a bit much, especially since it never drops below 75 degrees here. But having big elbow guards makes me kind of feel like Barry Bonds, minus the part about being a douche bag.

* I used to make some pretty rad courses on that game.

Monkey Sex and Cardinal Victories

After observing monkey sex and lizards in the underground river, we boarded an outrigger boat and set sail for an island paradise. (This is the best opening I’ve ever written.)

Eventually Jen and I arrived at the island paradise resort of El Nido. You can only arrive by boat (although I guess parachute would work as well), and the best part is they play a welcome song for you on the dock as you arrive. Once arrived, your “activity director” sits you down to plan out the following day for you. Then you are shown to your air conditioned room that receives electricity 24 hrs a day (quite a luxury in island paradise). Afterwards, you are allowed to graze the giant buffet lunch served 3 times a day, every day. Then you are allowed to meet with San Miguel, which for you non-Philippine dwellers, is like meeting with Auggie Busch or Pete Coors.

Jen and I were interrupted from our building of true Philipino friendships* by another welcome song. Our colleagues (JB, Tara, Fred, and Sandy) had just arrived. I put their names down because they might read this, and people like to read about themselves. My 4 colleagues promptly told their activities director that they did not want to do any activities except “building true Philipino friendships.” This greatly hurt the feelings of their activities director, which meant the resort disliked my colleagues, but liked me and Jen. We all spent a lot of time with San Miguel on the beach, and even played an ingenious version of bocce ball throughout the resort’s restaurant and bar that involved coconuts and some acrobatics. I did not win, but I heartily thank JB for enlightening me on that game.

Jen and I used our pull to convince the resort to point their satellite skyward every morning, and set up their one television to watch the Cardinals in the World Series. Unbelievably, I was able to watch the final 3 games of St Louis’ greatest moment in sporting history. I fully represented America with a great deal of profanity, high fives, and humping the air in jubilation. You also know that the fist pump was in prime form.

We stopped scuba diving in plenty of time to fly to the next island paradise. (This was key so as not to explode on the airplane.) However, I was a little disappointed in that Sangat Island reserve was no where near as posh as our last home. I sat in my powerless, dark, sweaty hut with dejection. 30 seconds later the monkey parade began! No more than 30 feet from our hut! And what do you think those monkeys did as soon as they realized they had an audience? You guessed it. Monkey sex, Act II. These monkeys (and monitor lizards as well), were around throughout our stay. Pretty awesome until I tried to approach baby monkeys for photograph and the male leader nearly attacked me.

In all truthfulness, the highlight of this island was the scuba diving. Jen and I dove down to see half dozen giant Japanese ships sunk during WWII. Some of them over 2 football fields long. It was crazy shit.

No we are safely back in Manila. No monkeys here, but still plenty of opportunity for building true Philipino friendships.

* This is what every bottle of San Miguel says on it

PS: the picture seen is what happens if you google "monkey, cardinals." It is entitled "Boots the Monkey." I don't know what it is, but I can't stop laughing.

Those Crazy Monkeys

My apologies on my absence from the world of blogging for several weeks. I have no one to blame but myself. And my shitty internet connection. And being overworked. And power-outages.

Jen and I just returned from my new favorite holiday at International School Manila entitled “2 Week Fall Break!” Unbelievable how awesome my life has become.

We decided that instead of exploring other exotic countries of Southeast Asia, that we instead would explore some of the 7000 islands of the Philippines. This decision was aided by the fact that some member of the Philippine Work Visa Committee actually has our passports still, and I did not know who exactly to bribe.

We headed south to the island province of Palawan for tropical island paradise. It did not disappoint. Our small plane touched down in the province’s capital, Puerta Princessa. The main attraction here seemed to be the bizarre fact that there were 8 tricycles (local taxis) per every one traveler. A real buyer’s market. I used my slick negotiation skills and non-existent Tagalog to obtain a tricycle ride to the next town, which we all agreed was about 12 km away. The driver promptly drove us exactly 12 km into the middle of a rice field, pointed to his odometer, kicked us off the trike, and drove off. Great. Undaunted, we flagged down a giant jeepney (the Philipino equivalent of a bus) and made our way to the town of Sabang.

In Sabang, one could take the 6 km “Monkey Trail” to the Underground River (a World Heritage site!). This trail involved little more than sweating my balls off until we found ourselves surrounded by about a dozen monkeys staring at us hungrily and waving their opposable thumbs around to show us they meant business. Being accustomed to stupid tourists, the monkeys remained focused on our hands, since in all their past experiences, food occasionally was produced from hands. We did not fall for this. The male leader monkey quickly got bored of us, walked over and gave the business to the female monkey of his choice. I nearly fell over.

I do not have photos of this spontaneous act of monkey sex. Don’t even ask. Even if I did, what sort of blog would this be if I published that type of imagery?

Then we continued along the trail and I nearly fell over again when I saw a leopard about to be eaten by a Komodo dragon! In reality, it was only a sleeping housecat, and a giant monitor lizard.* But these crazy lizards were about 4 feet long and did not even notice me. They had no opposable thumbs, but they also had no natural predators. So they just stared at me and walked past. Thank god no one was giving those goddamned animals any booze!

Eventually we took a boat trip through the Underground River. I don’t remember much about the river though. I couldn’t stop thinking about what horrible things were going to happen when those crazy monkeys got a hold of those god-damned reptiles.

The pics of the craziness

* No housecats were harmed in this blogging episode. I honestly don’t know why.

Celebrate Good Times, Cmon.

Celebrate good times.

What a pessimist I was in my last entry! STrike is over!

The remaining 4 people on the board resigned on stage at our meeting this evening. School's on like Donkey Kong!

"Union's on strike, He's Down on his luck, its tough"

Wow my life is interesting now! I don’t even have to make my own drama.

We are now in day 2 of the strike. Yesterday afternoon at our faculty meeting we learned that two more Board of Trustee members (the bad guys) resigned, leaving only 5 of the original 10. They now don’t have quorum and are impotent (ha ha), BUT the remaining board members are digging in and putting up sand bags.

We then needed to vote whether or not to continue the strike. Fortunately, the entire team of principals walked in and announced that they were also now on strike as well. They then all dropped pants and showed that they spelled the words “K-I-S-S O-U-R” on their asses, and directed this towards the remaining board members.

Teachers of course voted to extend strike alongside the principals. Board members had till 8 pm last night to resign. They did not, because they are subscribers to the douche-bag-philosophy. Thus, I had to call 10 of my students and tell them there would not be school today. NOT fun. One board member, in a burst of professionalism, texted the teacher community with the message, “As parents, we think you should all be fired.” We are currently looking for a service that delivers flaming bags of poo to his doorstep. No luck yet.

Today one more Board member resigned (the guy mentioned above). I spent a few hours calling parents trying to get the 800 votes we need to oust the remained 4 board members. I will honestly tell you that if I had to be a telemarketer to put bread on the table, I would starve. Wow did that suck. It’s not easy explaining the situation over a fuzzy connection to a mom who speaks mainly Japanese. But, I think I added a few votes for the good guys. We only need about 150 more.

And so....we meet again in a few hours, but I am not optimistic that the remaining board will resign, nor that we will get enough votes soon enough to have school on Friday. The bullshit will likely last the rest of the week.

Again, check out www.ismstakeholders.com if you are really bored.

We're Strikingl, Bitches!

Warning!!!! Like anything I write, this is NOT to be taken as 100% factual.

Sorry to be only updating you all on the past, namely the Indonesian adventure. Let me fast forward to the present, because it’s become immensely dramatic.

Jen and I (and the rest of the faculty and staff and International School of Manila) are on strike. Here’s the quick and highly biased highlights.*

The Board of Trustees has pulled a lot of douche bag moves. They got themselves elected last year in a questionable and dodgy process of absentee balloting. They’ve been micromanaging the school ever since. The principals of elementary, middle, and high school sent a public letter to the board that could be summarized as follows: “You’re a bunch of douche bags; we refuse to work with you.” The board thought about this, and then sacked the superintendent. They escorted him out of the building, past students, surrounded by armed security. **

Most of us faculty and staff were hired to our nice jobs by the super and principals, so we asked the Board to show up at a “What-the-Fuck-is-Going-On Meeting.” The board did not show up.

So we did not show up at school today. Fortunately, several hundred parents did show up to sign petitions calling for resignation of the board. Hopefully strike will end soon when resignations occur. So far, 3 of the 10 Board members have resigned.


* these highlights are not meant to be entirely taken as fact, but close enough for those of you who will never have any dealings with international education

** Almost all security is armed at international schools, this is not abnormal.

Across the Heart of Darkness

So if you read the blog last, we finished a long, shaky (and yet awesome) boat trip past Komodo Island and some of Eastern Indonesia. We were on the western side of the large island of Flores (100 miles) across. Our flight left for Manila in a few days, but we flew out on the Eastern side of the island. How hard can it be to travel 100 miles? How hard could it be to build a canal across Panama? The answer to both these timeless questions turned out to be the same: “Pretty damn hard.”

pictures that don't really prove it

We sat in the less-then-desirable-town of Labuan Baju reading our Lonely Planet about how terrible the roads and busses were on this island. A bus actually pulled up right next to where we were eating. Great! A young lad, clinging to the outside, promptly leaned over and vomited. Not so great. Bus = not an option.

4 of us decided to hire a driver and an SUV type vehicle to drive us across over a few days. So 3 Americans, one Swiss, one crazy-ass driver set off through the wilderness armed with several karaoke tapes, Carlos Santana, and the Backstreet Boys. Things were bound to be awesome.

Windy roads would be an understatement. The back seat was considered blissful, because at least you didn’t have to watch certain death awaiting you around the next blind curve. Our driver Matt, assured us this was normal. Not overly encouraging, but at least he had lived this long.

He took us to a rural home of a woman distilling Arak: fermented coconut milk, distilled so as to become jet fuel. Whilst the process of this was fascinating, I would rather drink tequila w/ tomato juice, and that’s saying a lot.

We stopped for two nights in the town of Mony (yes, just like the song, “Mony, Mony”). We stayed with Matt’s brother, Bryan. We got to experience some kick ass things like a natural hot springs in a rice paddy and these 3 crazy volcanic crater lakes (the chameleon lakes, all different colors). What was especially bizarre was that when we returned for the 2nd night, a drum set and guitars all appeared, so we rocked out. I played the drum set with actual sticks ripped off a tree. It was classic. I also tried to drink Arak. Ugly stuff. The best part about our lodging was they had a dumbbell set like Marky-Mark used in the video “Good Vibrations”

We somehow made it alive across Flores in time for our flight. Granted, no one knew if it would actually take off or not, nor when. We just hung out at the airport all day. They had a metal detector, but it wasn’t plugged in. Eventually a plane showed up, and some nice man decided to let us get on.

We flew to our new home in Manila.

Burninating the Oceanside

So the blog is still retroactive. Pretend it’s a month ago………

Bad news. Time to get on a boat again. We were booked, not for a 3 hour tour, but for a 3 day tour. It promised to show us several islands and the famed home of the Komodo dragons whilst carrying us to more-Eastern Indonesia.

Pics of Boat Tour and DRAGONS!!!

We booked with Perama, which is an Indonesian tour company, but also sort of like a summer camp. I’ll try to explain. We first bussed across the Island of Lombok to see the great things Perama was doing for the community. The first small town was our rock star tour stop. As soon as we get off the bus, there is a small marching band (all playing gongs, drums, and chime-type things) decked out in Perama T-shirts. We then are then marched along in a parade (in our honor) to the center of the village. As the band plays us along, every child in a 5 mile radius starts filing out of doors, windows, and the air to see the parading whities.

We crowd into a courtyard to see “traditional dance.” I think there was some dancing, but I don’t remember it. Because then this little guy walked out with a wooden shield and stick. So did another guy. A third man, a referee of sorts blew a whistle and put some money down on the ground. I figured I was a millionaire, so I did the same, as did the other whities. Soon the ground was full of cash, one stick guy was praying, and I realized they were not fucking around. They proceeded to beat the shit out each other for three rounds. I don’t know where that money actually went, but I do know boxing seems like a boring sport now.

Then we got on a little ship. The first night Jen and I decide to sleep up-top under the stars while we traveled. Worst idea ever. We nearly got swept out to sea. Only the gods of friction and gravity saved us. The best part of the boat trip was that the boat crew performed awesome dances at night and in the mornings. “The Perama Dance” consisted of captains, cooks, cabin boys, etc, doing a serious multi-version rendition of the electric slide. The next morning we were lined up on the beach and led in musically accompanied stretching exercises. It was awesome.

We soon arrived at Komodo Island. Unhappily, we were told that the dragons were mating, so we might not see one. I figured though, since there are 7 males for every one female, some dragon guy must not be getting lucky. This proved correct as we saw two massive guy dragons ambling around. How do I know they were guys? Because their names were Trogdor. Both of them. They were awesome. No worries about safety though. The most dangerous things were the souvenir salesman at the dock. One poor guy showed interest in buying a wooden dragon, and the salesmen went into an orgiastic frenzy I hope never to see the likes of again.

Soon the real danger would begin….

Why I'm Not a Real Pirate

Still in the past. I am currently a small town in the philippines, but the pictures below relate chronilogically to the last blog entry.

Welcome to Fantasy Island!

We had just left Yogyakart and flown to Bali, which i'm sure is a paridise if you can escape the Hell Hole known as Kuta, which is like spring break capital Indonesia, and motor scooter capital, and capital of people trying to sell you stuff. Dancing was fun in Kuta, and I did get to sing on stage w/ a cover band. I sang a Bon Jovi Song, "It's My Life" It was pretty boss.

We then decided to get the hell out after just two nights, and check out the more remote Gili Isles which were a couple boat rides away. Whoa. Yo ho ho, the pirates life is NOT for me. Jen, myself, and the rest of the free world on our boat were more praying for land-ho within 1 hour of our 5 hour ferry ride. Rocky seas combined with diesel fumes = not so awesome. The high point was that our indonesian ferry boat crew found every small event to be hysterical and demanded a Pee Wee's Playhouse-Word-of-the-Day-Type reaction. Once we finally reached our tiny island getaway, the crew had to use a smaller boat to shuttle people to land. Whenever the little boat took off safely, mass hysteria and shouting. When the boat returned safely, mass hysteria. When the guy driving our little shuttle boat missed the rope he was thrown, mass hysteria. When he caught it, same reaction. They were on crack 24-7.

Upon getting to Gili Air Island we had to wade with our packs thru about 50 ft of ocean swamp. Then we get picked up in a horse drawn cart and driven through a powerless island to our bungalow. Fortunately, the bungalow kicked ass. A bamboo hut w/ porch, hammock, mosquito net, etc. The next few days were spent sitting on a beach and thanking the Gods of Land that we were not on a ship. A special favorite point of mine (and Jen's, in retrospect) was when Gary the Gecko visited our bungalow bathroom. Geckos are everywhere, but this guy was almost 2 feet long!!! He also made this awesome clicking noise. i hope the picture does him justice. Unfortunately it was a one time sighting.

Yogyakarta Pics

Permit me to live a few weeks in the past. Here are a few highlight pics. They were actually taken back in July at Yogyakarta, Indonesia.

Pictures of Awesome

Don’t be afraid, there are not a Mark Gantsian number of photographs. I believe no more than a baker’s dozen. If you really care for an explanation of these pics, you can look back at the posting entitled “Giving the People What They Want.” Only at that time, I did not live here in Manila, where the world of superior technology is at my fingertips.

There are more Indonesian stories and pics to come. Currently, we’ve finished the first week of school, and our Deluxe Apartment in the Sky is starting to look pretty flash. Pics of Awesometown (where I live) will be up soon also.

Back in Action

woooooooo. I'm back! At least, back in the world of non-dial-up internet that is. I'm in Manila. In fact, i start teaching children again tomorrow. But, i now am wireless in my apt. I'll try to retroactively walk you readers through my summer, over the next few days. Bear in mind, you'll be living in the past.

MOre later.

Fist Pumping Action

http://www.alpha-male.org/pics/fist_pump_guy.jpg



First things first. I'm on a mission over here in indonesia. It's a mission to return "fist pumping action" as a means of expressing excitement. This is a one handed fist pump. You all know it. American culture (not our politics) is generally quite reverred, especially that of hollywood, music, etc. So i'm using my american influence to bring this fist pumping action to southeast asia. I credit Aaron with bringing it to the american west. Aaron credits some guy named Glenn in chicago for spreading it to KC. Look for tons of Asians to be doing fist pumping action at the Olympics in 2010.

World cup action took place in Yogyakarta, Indonesia beginning at 1 am the other day. Jen and I woke a sleepy bekack driver (easy to do, i believe they live/sleep in their bike/carts 24-7) and paid him handsomely to to drive us to a street where a giant screen had been erected to watch the match. We met with chaos, since every scooter in a 50 mile radius was there. Any event this big in the states would have warrented about 30 policemen and a news crew. In indonesia this warrented zero policemen and a lot of people selling cigarrettes. The street was blocked, taksi's were honking, and people were in trees, on fences, etc to see the screen. When a team would score, people not only cheered but revved scooters to rediculous levels, causing the greenhouse levels around the earth to double (penalty kicks caused the melting of antartica).

AFter the cup, we slept an hour and then told a taksi driver "airport." He took this to mean "drive me to the airport like you are Chuck Yeager the NASA test pilot." Fortunately, i had recently used our bathroom/hole-in-ground so i didn't need to chage my shorts (for the record, we buy our own toilet paper, and then have to throw it away, ecuador-style).

Now we are in Bali, the capital of Australian Spring Break and home of the infamous Bali-Bombings (we saw the memorial today, over 100 dead). It is supposed to be a beautiful paradise, but in reality it blows, so we are leaving. If you enjoy being harrassed every 30 seconds fo buy t-shirts, sunglasses, mangoes, massages, etc then Bali is for you. If you enjoy playing frogger vs. Aussies who are riding scooters for the first time in their lives, Bali is for you. In defense of Bali, Jen and I did get awesome massages. However, i couldn't help from laughing, because for those of you from Columbia, MO, it was nothing like what you've heard of The Hong Kong Spa or the Foxy Sauna or any other such american massage parlors (no "happy endings" you sickos).

Now we are booked to leave here tomorrow morning to explore some tiny islands and stay in a bungalow. then we are on a boat trip for 3 days to eventually see Komodo dragons. afterwards, we will continue exploring the more remote islands of eastern indonesia. in other awesomeness, there will be no more atm's for the rest of our trip, and 1 Rupiah is worth about half a cent, so Jen and I will have to withdraw about 5 million Rupiah to carry around (literally). awesometown.

Look for my next post to be the ceremony where Indonesia renames the three Gili Islands as "Fist", "Pumping," and "Äction"

PS - check out Ayo's blog and Jen's (the Manila folder) both now linked to mine
- yes, that is probably the most awesome internet picture i've ever posted, that is the look and enthusiasm i strive for

My favorite Indosian Band

last night's entertainment went above and beyond. the greatest cover band in all of indonesia is called Rande-Vu (i think pronounced rendesvous). They will be performing at my birthday party in Manila if all my dreams come true.

We went to this turkish resto (restaurant) for drinks. there was absolutely nothing turkish about it. the entirely indonesian band consisted of drums, keyboard, base, guitar, and 3 very awesome singers (2 girls, 1 guy). compared to the people i see around, they were the hippest people in indonesia. they then elevated themselves in my mind to most-awesome-band-ever with their first cover: P-I-M-P by 50-Cent. I don't think they spoke much english, but i guarantee they knew every word to this classic. Now, i couldn't understand every word, but lets not split hairs here, i knew what they were getting at. What was the next song? How about some Missy Elliot? "My neck, my back, my !@#$, and my crack." A special bonus to this was the choreographed dance moves my all 3 singers. Just when i was on the phone to all my music agent friends in the states, they broke into "Milkshake" (it brings all the boys to the yard). This was by far better than the original. They then proceeded to go through about every US top-40 hip-hop song since 2002. Unbelievable.

They also took requests. I was hardpressed to think of one they hadn't done yet. Jen's favorite song of all time is "Holla Back Girl" by Gwen Stefani. I wrote this down and handed it to them. The girl didn't understand at first, but the guy quickly said (over the microphone), "oh ya. It my shit. It my shit." about 3 seconds of indonesian talk with the band followed, and they broke into a perfect rendition immediately. wow. I've never been so proud of American culture.

a few quick notes:
-- meghan G is awesome because she knew who sang "East-Bound and Down, Loaded Up and Truckin"
-- Jen is also documenting our travels at http://themanilafolders.blogspot.com/ check it out, especially since i make shit up sometimes.
-- pictures may have been advertised earlier. don't count on it. the europeans around me at the internet shop now exactly what the profanity i've been using means, and its all due to trying to put pics on the blog.

Giving the people what they want.

wow. today in indonesia was awesome. i have not seen popularity like this since filling oj's backpack with bacon and sending him through grizzly bear country.


so today jen and i went see the ancient buddhist temple of Borubudur (abondoned around 900 AD). As soon as we hit the bus station, people started shouting with joy at us. i don't know what the hell they were jibber-jabbering about, but i'm pretty sure it translated as "hey whities, get on my bus, i love you (your money)"

The temple was awesome, i'll try and get pics going if i can make picture uploading-in-indonesia happen (as a gambling man, i'll take the under on this). the best part was how much people loved us. Background: whitey tourism in indonesia has been slim since the Bali bombings. Thus, the Borubudur temple appears to be visited by 98% indonesian tourists, apparently most of whom are from small towns who don't get visitors often. About every 5 minutes we'd see kids inching towards us, when we would turn around and say hello, the parents would rejoice and then ask if they could take a picture of us with their kids. The kids would then use the opportunity to practice the english taught in grade school (similar to the spanish you all learned on sesame street: usually "hello," "thank you," or my favorite, "one, two, three!"

Then i tried to book a flight to elsewhere in indonesia. try this over the phone someday for awesomeness. i had to spell names for flight tickets exactly, it went like this

Ringo: My last name is Dingrando. D as in dog, i as in igloo, n as in nancy, g as in grill, etc.
Indonesian receptionist: so your last name is dolardo? B as in bali, i as in india, m as in malsdkljs, and q as in qlkjseotijh?
Ringo: what?????
Indonesian receptionist: sorry?????

i would have taken up heroin right there if there wasn't a death penalty for shit like that.

after returning to the bus station (several miles away from hotel) we couldn't find a taksi (taxi), so we hailed a bekat (cart on front of bike). this poor guy had a LONG way to take us, but he was up for it, and i was high-rollin'. this was like driving on I-25 in rush hour in an electric wheel chair, the wrong way. holy shit. 5 million scooters are passing us, but then to make up for it, our bekat biker doesn't heed stoplights, and he passes when he needs to, oncoming traffic be-damned. did we have helmets? seatbelts? ha. did Noah's neighbors have life jackets? we did have lots of people staring and waving at us. i figured it was a sort "we salute those who are about to die."

miraculously, after about an hour, we made it. i washed the sweat off at the hotel (several buckets of water dumped over the head). and then i feasted on spaghetti with beef, tuna, and squid on top (delicious actually!).

wooooooooooo

Houston, do you copy?

holy shit i'm in indonesia! The computer desk i'm typing on now is made out of bamboo. i'm shitting you negative.

Jen and I got to manila a while ago. Our principal's driver, Albert, picked us up. He was pretty awesome, but all the "yes sirs" and "no sirs" is a little wierd for those of us not used to having servents. He took us to the principal's house (on the 11th floor) to stay, which was pretty much like the jefferson's apt building on the East Side.

Things began to get awesome when we left for indonesia. While on the plane congratulating our selves at how adventurous and spontaneous we were, we discovered that we needed visas to enter indonesia. These cost money upon arrival. Cash money. We left all our shiny new philippino money in manila for our return. Collectively, we had about $3.47. This was not good. Fortunately, we were stopping to let more passengers on our plane in Singapore. Miraculously, the stewardesses agreed to let me and Jen sprint to an ATM to grab singapore monopoly money. I probably withdrew the amount for 18 indonesian visas, but at least they'd now let me in the country.

So then, whilst congratulating ourselves on the plane about how resourceful we were, i read that indonesians don't use toilet paper. They use the left hand and plenty of water. i hate to extend on this too far, but i've shit in the woods a lot. no problem. in ecuador, you had to throw the shitty toilet paper in the trash. not great, but i worked through it. I won't lie, i'm not ok with this indonesian practice. I'm working through it, as are all the other whities (i think i've seen 5 others).

so we hit the Jakarta airport at night, grab our bags, and walk outside. we were then quickly assualted by 290 cab drivers who knew "perfect hotel". this was a flat out lie. our cabbie drove us to 3 hotels. all full. he then pulled into the heart of the slums, got out of the car and left. i was pretty sure he was bargaining with a cousin to let us sleep on his floor. this did not happen. instead he turned us around and started heading BACK to the airport. this could not happen either, so we finally blurted out "Sheridan Bakarti." This is a 5-star establishment. 3 doormen helped us in with our backpacks. Our first night in the cheapest country in the world, and i dropped a small fortune on our hotel. Fine. we decided to drink our way through it at the hotel bar. at least the drinks have to be at normal indoneisan rates. right? false. Upon receiving my bill the next day, the 4 coronas we purchased completely pulled indonesia out of a trade defecit with China. the upside? toilet paper in our hotel room.

Now we're in Yogyakarta. I've never seen so many scooters in my life. Walking through the market is a workout. You may not believe this, but Jen and I don't blend in real well with the locals. here's the conversation i've had 428 times today.

Local:Hello! Where you from?
Ringo:united states.
Local: oh yes! yes! where you going?
Ringo: just to the __________ (insert your own location here, it doesn't matter)
Local: Oh no. the ____________ is closed. Do you like art?
Ringo: ummmm......
Local: I will take you to the Batik (local type of art) superstore. it is the best in the world. and today is the last chance to go there.

this was a little trying. tomorrow we go to see the ruins of an ancient Buddhist temple. should be more boss. Now i'm going to drink giant $1 beers and watch a local band known as "brown sugar"

One Wild and Crazy Conference

I love conferences. Especially ones that involve international teachers.

I spent the past week in Montezuma, New Mexico, at a conference for teachers. I thought this area would be similar to the flaming-inferno-of-hell where OJ lives, known as Phoenix. Similar landscape, slightly better weather.

You're probably thinking, “a conference-full of physics teachers! That sounds like some wild-and-crazy-guys!” I understand. The good news is that other subjects (English, Spanish, etc.) were there also, and helped to balance out the pocket protectors. So did the open bar every night.

One bizarre part was that the conference was held at the Castle of the Arm and Hammer United World College of the American West. It really was a castle (sadly, minus a moat monster). Why was there a castle in New Mexico? Does the Arm and Hammer empire contain royalty or a connection to education? I don't know. To add to the bizarreness, whilst attending open bar #4 of the conference (i had perfect attendance at these), two black helicopters landed on the school soccer fields, and then flew off. I'll probably not wake up tomorrow for posting this on the internet, but I'm pretty sure it was area 51 type shit.

Anyways, I met teachers from all over the world. They can't really party like the All-Stars, but they did hold their own amongst the teaching world.

Now I'm hanging out w/ my mom in Denver for the weekend, then Jen and I take a moving truck to St. Louis (East-bound and down, loaded up and truckin')*. Look for word on the awesomeness of that roadtrip

wooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

* special shout-out to whomever can name the song/movie that line is from. Marvelous Marc Gants IV got the last trivia question (Sir Mix-a-Lott)

Flaming Asshole

it didn't really look like this


Sadly, due to professional reasons, i have removed this post. It breaks my heart, as it was one of my best. However, if you're reading this, i could probably be convinced to tell you in person.

Inside Ringo's Head

Awesometown Intro


Sometimes when friends hear that I spent 60% of my shipping allowance on sending costumes to the Philippines, or that I spent 6 days of my summer vacation backpacking through the desert, they ask, "Ringo, what goes through your head?"

I have always had trouble explaining. Until now.

My Education

While I'm sure I'll learn lots of great things this summer, I would like to thank OJ and Aaron for teaching me the joys of watching cartoons all day (after nearly dying on the Trip of Awesome, see last posting). I had heard legend of such wonders as Robot Chicken, The Family Guy, and SeaLab, but never experienced them. Now, I feel like my life has just begun. Below are links to two favorites...

This one embodies all that is awesome.
Voltron Gets Served

This is now how I introduce myself to the ladies.
I'm the Juggernaut, Bitch!!

I didn't think it was right to keep such light under a basket (i think that's a biblical reference).

The Trip of Awesome

The Trip of Awesome. We should all three be dead. However, as you well know, All-Star Perfectos always triumph. Here's a recap of the awesomeness. The brevity does not do it justice, but i know your attention spans are short.

On the flight to Phoenix the captain comes over the intercom to say, “Sorry folks, but there's thunderstorms over Phoenix and we can't land. This is about as common as snow in hell. We'll circle until it clears.” We circled in turbulence for so long I was praying we would run out of fuel and die, just to make it stop. Four people threw up. This was a precursor to our near future.

Finally I landed, met OJ, and retrieved Aaron. We all crashed at OJ's to prepare to enter the desert. Now, who in their right mind enters the desert in June? Madness.

Fortunately, the desert we entered was at about 6000 ft above sea level. However, it certainly wasn't a rain forest. So we stopped at the ranger station to inquire about water sources. Here we met Ranger Ho-Bag. (I will refer to her as this to protect her identity.) We should have known by her pink nail polish that she had never stepped out of the AC, let alone been on the Highline trail. She gave us lots of information that would later turn out to be completely false and cause us to swear by the Sun-God Mogdollah to kill her first-born.

We then earned our “Good Backpacker” merit badges by wisely caching water at strategic points along the trail. This was tricky since none of the spots/roads pointed out by Ranger Ho-Bag existed. However, after several miles, sweating and cursing, we prevailed.

We had almost a full moon that night, so we actually began the trail with a night hike. This was extremely awesome and i recommend you all do this at some point. Yes, we were sober.

On day 2 we met Mogdollah the Sun-God. He is an angry and punishing god. To appease him we tried burning small sticks filled with tobacco. He was unimpressed. We actually came across a few streams with water in them. Great, except for the fact that this negated all our work of caching water based on recommendations by Ranger Ho-Bag. Thus we poured the extra water all over ourselves...and angered Mogdollah. OJ angered him most.

Day 3 proved especially brutal. A big reason was that the desert/forest we were in had recently been visited by Trogdor, the Burninator. If you don't know who this is, I pity you. Visit this site now.

Trogdor! The Burninator!

Now that you are cool, you know this means the forest was burned, offering no shade, and closely resembling Mordor. OJ began to fight a losing battle against sun and gravity. Notice in the pictures (coming up) that OJ is usually assuming the position of being bent over with hands on knees. (Not just in memorial to his prison days.) The only thing that saved us was that we found a shaded stream to hole up in until Mogdollah's power weakened somewhat. Once we hit the trail again, things got much worse for OJ. He would hike about a half mile, pause, throw up, and repeat. Ayo and I helped out by drinking whiskey and taking OJ's picture. We then camped at this awesome spring that appeared out of the hillside. OJ would have appreciated it if he was conscious or capable of standing. (We also saw some of the most spectacular views ever, see pics at end.)

The next morning (day 4) OJ had a pulse, so we pronounced him good to go. However, the new section of the trail we were supposed to take did not even exist. A big sarcastic thank you to Ranger Ho-Bag. We thus modified our route and headed south to exit the desert. Unfortunately, OJ went from bad to broken. We quickly realized we could not get both OJ and his pack to the next camp site. We had to leave one (OJ or his pack) behind. We took a vote, and despite the majority opinion, opted to leave the pack and get OJ out. Good idea, except OJ then went from broken to dead. We now had a man dehydrated and immobile, plus we were running low on water. The nearest water source was 3 miles away. Shit. Since Brandi (OJ's fiance) was picking us up, we couldn't kill him. We had to resuscitate him. Not easy. OJ crawled into the shade with a large ration of water whilst Ayo and I hiked to the nearest water source to get more. We then hiked back to find OJ in a somewhat more mobile state. We gave him more water and sent him in the right direction while we hiked BACK another mile to get the remaining pack.

On the way out we kept expecting to find OJ's lifeless body, but we never did. What did happen on the trail was that Aaron suddenly began shouting “Shit! Shit! Shit! Run! Shit! Run!” while he did an about face and ran into me, knocking me down into the desert bushes. He had come about 10 inches from stepping onto a 4 foot long, pissed off rattle snake. Unbeknownst to me, the procedure when you encounter this obstacle, is to shout profanity, run away, and throw your buddy down so that he dies, giving you time to escape. Aaron performed this procedure with excellence. We managed to escape however, and met OJ at the trail head.*

We managed to throw up the bat signal, and Brandi (who is awesome) came to pick us up, removing us from the desert. The rest of the trip consisted of air conditioning, Diamondbacks game, and Budweiser. Indeed, a Trip of Awesome.

Here's about 20,000 words-worth of pictures. Perhaps Ayo's and OJ's will be linked soon (that's a subtle hint to you two).

Pictures of Awesome

* I was not carrying my snake bite kit which was generously provided for me by Greg Hessee.

The Super Leaving Party

Curses! Our last themed party in Denver!

Saturday was the Super Leaving Party for myself and Jen before we head to the Philippines (we actually fly out on July 3). Of course, like any Ringo party, it involved costumes, name tags, and belligerence.

My favorite act of belligerence actually occurred a day before the party. Greg came over to help move a couch down outside to donate to the thrift store. It went like this.

Ringo: OK. Now lets carry it down the stairs.
Greg: Why don't we throw it off the balcony?
Ringo: Because I want to donate it.
Greg: The real Ringo would throw it off the balcony.
Ringo: .....
Greg: In fact, I'm ashamed you're not telling me to throw it off the balcony.

We threw it off the balcony. Actually, we flipped it into a tree, it flipped back towards us, ripped down three limbs, and landed (quite agile really) like a cat, on its feet. Unharmed. Unbelievably, the thrift store wouldn't take it. To quote Greg, “Those bastards wouldn't know a good tree couch if it hit them in the face.”

So on to the party. No worries, i have about 21,000 words worth of pictures to back up these tall tales.

Super Pictures!

I went as Peer Pressure. This consisted of a cape, mask, tights, name tag (of course) and the act of constantly pushing people into taking up vices. If folks participated in a vice, they received a sticker entitled “cool.” If not, they received “Not cool.” Harsh? Yes. But so is life.

Jen and Allison went as the White Out Twins, consisting of wings, high heels, wigs, sparkles, etc. If their superhero power was supposed to be “looking hot,” they really hit the nail on the head.

My roommate Zola* went as Pornita Aguilera. Her superpower was shock and horror (and looking hot) as people realized what accessories she was carrying around. Too bad she never made a Dungeon of Sin party.

My other roommate Andrew went as Flash Gordon. He saved every one of us. He gets special props because he looks like Flash Gordon. And Ricky Schroeder.

Jill and Chad went as Super Mexican Villains. They were wrongly pulled over by Denver PD on the way home and searched for weed.

Greg showed up as Iron Chef. Apparently his superpower was spanking people on the ass with a spatula. Because he did this a lot.

The DJ (yes there was a DJ) and 3 chicks i don't know showed up as a French wall. Their superpower was to not let people through the door. Strange, but awesome nonetheless.

Only a precursor to the awesomeness of Halloween in Manila. Wooooooooooo.

* I recently learned Zola spent years as a club dancer in Dallas.