Hero's Come Back

I have no clue what they're saying, but this video/song rocks so damn hard. It makes me want to fight in slow motion.

Watch "Hero's Come Back"

If You Have a Heart

You will visit this page to support a good great and just cause:

Show your support

Has Anyone Seen Any Green-Grey Underpants?

Late post? No way.

3 mile trek to Snow Lake. 6 miles round trip.

The initial shock of doing something other than sit in front of a computer was quite daunting. Moderate difficulty? Graham, you liar. But as the hike went on, we all (I think) got used to it. The group eventually split up into its normal sub groups with the speed walkers club (Warren & Pete) blazing forward, inbetweenies (Jarold, Kristie, Anabelle, and Graham (although Graham and Anabelle transitioned between the inbetweenies and speed walkers)), and the caboose (Gavin and Pat). It was a very pleasant walk except for the man eating flies that were everywhere.

The views of the lake were well worth it though. The water was still, sitting on dark rock, creating a mirror for the clouds to look at themselves as they passed overhead.

Gotdamn, walking up a 3 mile hill is tiring. Gotta wash this dirt and sweat off somehow. I know! Let's all strip down and jump into the freezing lake!

Cold? This isn't cold. You want cold? Try The River Thames.

So the Brits happily wade and swim into Snow Lake.


My lovely of course is from the land of no lower than 70 degrees fahrenheit. Ever. She can't get past half a foot deep into it. She's right though. This lake is cold.



Pat: "Come on California and Hawaii!"

Kristie's frozen and won't move so I strap her on like a backpack and we wade into the water. We're in about 10 minutes and it's time to get out. I told you, it was cold.

20 feet into the bushes to change.

Jarold: "Ewww. Look, someone's underwear."
Kristie: "Gross."
Jarold: "Let's toss it into the bushes."

That'll teach them.

Pat is the last to leave the lake. Yorkshire-ians like the cold, I guess? He goes diggin into his backpack for his change of clothes.





Pat: "Has anyone seen any green-grey underpants?!"
Kristie: "..."
Jarold: "Whoops."

Check it out: The Snow Lake Flickr Set.

That's Called Kickin' Your Ass!

Today was fun. Went to Queen Anne for a game of tennis. Got my ass whooped by The Magician. 6-0, 6-2. That's called kickin' your ass. Although, at least this time, I only managed to hit ONE ball over the fence.

After a great burger and beer at Pike Pub and Brewery, it was off to Gameworks for Thursdays $10 play all the video games your mommy wouldn't give you quarters for extravaganza. Oh man, I wish I'd brought Kristie's camera for this. There was much hilarity that went on that night. The best games were the ones that required some kind of movement recognition. For example, there were sims for everything -- Skiing sims, row boating sims (that apparently, if you're Pat, you row faster when the game tells you to slow down), and ridiculous biking hangliding sims. There was this awesome game where you play a cop and the game detects your movements so you actually duck behind objects and pop back out to blast the baddies. It's too bad we didn't have our cameras to capture how goddamn stupid we looked playing all these things. But Pete did get some footage with his phone of Pat(video) and I(video) duking it out a la Virtual Fighter. And that, Pat, is what's called KICKIN' YOUR ASS.

Sayonara Belltown Roomies

This post is quite overdue, so I apologize.

My pillow and sheet remainin the cabinet underneath the television on the 15th floor of the Centenial apartment complex in Belltown. Gone are the days of crashing on the couch after a night out with the other Telecan piss-heads.

"Le Renard D'argent" was the first to [reluctantly] return home to the UK. Nick's sendoff included, of course, a trip to The Lava Lounge for some drinks, but surprisingly no shuffleboard. Then it was off to Fronteir Room for some more drinking and a game of urinal chalkboard graffiti. Ended the night at some place new – Viceroy. All in all, a very tame sendoff for one of the original piss-heads. A far cry from days past.

Two weeks later, we send off Mr. Carroll. Another quiet evening. No hangover the following Friday – a disappointment for some, I’m sure. The plan was simple. Meet up at fisherman’s for some dinner, drinks, and the sunset. Well, all was good until our very capable /sarcasm waiter, “Reef,” decided to take it upon himself to police our drinking. The food was mediocre and Pat was refused beer:

Pat: May I have another Pilsner?
Reef: We’ll see about that.

Cocksucker.

Ended Matt’s sendoff at The Viceroy, which was cool because Kristie could get in and hang out (and drink if she’d have chosen to).

When we finally make it out to the UK, guys, it'll be so on again.

I should also mention that the Prince of Darkness also left for the UK. However, I have a feeling we may see him again out here before this is all over. So instead of a long(ish) sendoff entry, here’s a picture of Tez himself:

San Diegans in Seattle

James and Stacey drove 20+ hours from San Diego to visit for a few days. It's always great having one of your best friends from home come visit to see the mess you've made of the new city you're living in. They were here for only 5 days so we were pretty restricted to mostly touristy type stuff.

On Saturday, Kristie and I took James, Stacey, Matt, and Lucy to Woodland Park Zoo. It was a very good zoo. Compared to the San Diego Zoo, though, it seemed a little small. We covered basically the whole zoo in 2 to 3 hours. The exhibits we visited, though, were quite good. Got some good photos of a brown bear, and a couple of gorillas. It was awesome being able to mix both old and new friends and have everyone get along quite well.

On Sunday, James, Stacey, Kristie, and I all drove up to Vancouver, Canada.

Man, did I ever mention that Washingtonians drive slower than your grandma? So I’m doing 81 on the freeway and this cop catches me on his radar from like half a freakin’ mile away on the opposite side of the freeway. I had no chance really. Completely unfair. Apparently the speed limit was 60 on that stretch of freeway. Don’t you just love how freeways can just jump speed limits like that from 70 to 60 MPH without much warning? And these cops will exploit that, let me tell you. It was also July 31st. Last day of the month. Quota time. So no talking my way out of this ticket, especially not with that California license plate on my car. And that’s how Jarold got his first ever speeding ticket. But I digress.

In Canada, someone thought it’d be hilarious to have not only the 1 and 99 freeways, but to also have 1a, 1b, 99a, and 99b freeways as well. That shortened our 2 and a half hour drive up to Vancouver to a mere 5 hours. But it’s all good. Whatever. We got to Capilano Bridge and some nice girl gave us her tickets so we didn’t have to pay the $25CAD cover charge. You know, there’s something about walking across a hundred foot suspension bridge with 100 other people at the same time that spells safe.

I must warn you, no running or jumping on the suspension bridges. I guess it hurts the trees.

Apart from the suspension bridges, we didn’t really do anything touristy in Canada land. Just a lot of shopping, coffee drinking, and having a certain 19 year old buy alcohol for the sake of being able to.

Fisherman's Revisited

For the sake of keeping this blog from becoming "The Poker Blog" where I bitch about my skill in losing, I'll only briefly mention that this week all of us "veterans" were utterly destroyed. I won't mention by whom (Kristie).

Anyhow, on Saturday I somehow managed to go shopping and not actually buy anything. A huge accomplishment of will on my part. I was almost successful, however, in coaxing Kristie into buying the same jacket in two different colors. This shopping sickness isn't something a guy should possess.

Back to The Waterfront since Kristie has grown quite fond of it. Some 7 o'clock photos were taken showing how late the sun goes down here. You all in England may not be impressed, but those of us from closer to the equator are quite amazed (yes, with a Zed, deal with it) by a 10 PM sunset.

Had some dinner at Fisherman's again with most of the Teleca gang. Warren got a new camera that both Matt and I are lusting for just a little too much. Pat always seems to bring the entertainment wherever we go. Between the mashing of crackers after already dumping them into the clam chowder, and asking the waiter for a tablecloth, much laughter ensued:

Waiter: Is there anything more I can help you with?
Pat: Yes. Do you have a blanket?
Waiter: ...uh...no, sir, we don't.
Pat: Because it's quite chilly. How about a tablecloth?
Waiter: ...I wouldn't wrap myself in one of those.
Pat: Well, in Sweden they give you blankets.