Dumb FedEx Guy

So my days in Miami are over and I'm moving back to Vancouver this weekend. Big announcement.

And so I decided to ship my stuff home via FedEx Ground International because it's cheaper than UPS or US Postal. I go to the nearest FedEx Kinko's branch and ask the guy which slip is the one for international ground shipping. The following conversation ensues:

"Sorry, we don't have international for ground shipping."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't drive to Cuba!"
(Chuckles while looking rather smug about his "clever" retort)

"But the FedEx website says you have that service."

"No, not here."

"Not even CANADA??!?"

"Umm...err...no, we just don't have it."

Okay. I know it takes a real man to admit to his mistakes, but it takes a real jackass to give up business to UPS just to cover up his mistakes. I was tempted to gauge how deep is his ignorance by continuing the conversation with, "Yeah, you're right! You can't drive across the ocean to Canada, seeing how it's a part of Europe. Damn Frenchies!" But I declined, seeing how I still need them to ship my stuff and it wouldn't help to piss them off if they understood the sarcasm.

Fortunately, I found another FedEx employee with more IQ than a grapenut, and he told me that their "ground shipping specialist" isn't there and to call 1-800-GO-FEDEX to make sure there branch has it. But it still doesn't excuse the staff for being so clueless. I'm pretty sure it reflects how badly the education system here needs an overhaul.

So what if a FedEx manager could read this blog? What're you gonna do!? FIRE ME!?!?

Sandstorm

A sandstorm with a cloud the size of continental US is about to sweep Florida sometime between today and Wednesday.

Guess where the sand comes from? Wrong. Not the beach, but believe it or not, the Sahara Desert!! That's right, the shit blows all the way across the Atlantic. Even though that sounds bad, its effects would be minimal and it won't travel too far across the US, with only warnings being issued to those with asthma to stay indoors during the storm. If any good comes out of this, it's that the sand cloud is said to impede the development of tropical storms and hurricanes.

It certainly won't be bad as this!

Scotty's Dead, Jim!

First, it was Dr. McCoy, and now Scotty. Farewell, Vancouverite.

Besides Star Trek, I didn't really know that much about James Doohan until I read his mini-bio in the Yahoo! News article. Turns out he was born in Vancouver, joined the Canadian army, and gotten his right middle finger blown off in D-Day before going into acting. What an interesting life. (Source)

It would've been cool if his last words were "Beam me up, God!"

Beached In South Beach

WARNING: If you considerself obese or even overweight, or if you're unusually sympathetic to fat people, stop reading now and keep in mind that I have nothing against "full-figured" folk. Everyone's beautiful in their own special way.

So I was out at the beach with some friends today. One of the nice things about South Beach is that it's top-optional for the ladies, and most of the girls are beautiful latinas, coming from a culture that is less restrained than the theocratic puritanism of America. Although the fact that there is a top-optional beach in the US is perhaps evidence that the Hispanic community does have influence in Miami. Either way, this top-optional policy has made the beach scenery much nicer. Until today.

I usually have a code language to point my buddies to an "unbridled" beauty, which is essentially the fighter pilot's codespeak for positions of enemy fighters; a time of the day would indicate the position of the subject according to the position on the face of an analog clock. So if I say "three o'clock", a hot topless girl is directly to the right of us. Got it?

So at the "one-thirty" position, these big mamas (read: large African-American women) decide to take advantage of the top-optional policy, much to our chagrin (guys and girls alike). I couldn't help but marvel at how gravity has made their appearance quite like a thoroughly melted candle. Then one of my gawk-eyed buddies (whom I'll refer simply as "KA") broke the awkward silence:

KA: Man, staring at them makes me hungry
Me: For flapjacks?
KA: That's gross, man.
Me: With the ocean in the background, it looks like Sea World.
KA: Dude, you're going to hell! Looks more like the National
      Geographic Channel.

We were glad that those ladies are proud of their bodies, but we were hoping that they be proud of their bodies elsewhere on the beach. Now we just need some big white chicks at "ten-thirty" and we can have the Michelin Man VS. Shamu Faceoff.

KA's right. I'm going to hell.

My Hometown Landed The News!!!

Finally, after telling everyone that I'm from Vancouver, I can finally say that I'm actually from a city called Coquitlam, and people will know where it is!!! Okay, so they'll probably refer to it as "that town where they mistakenly sold the new Harry Potter book prematurely", but it's still in the Most Viewed news section!

Viva Coquitlam! MUHAHAHA!!

(Source)

Clubbin' Through A Hurricane

Thinking that worst of Hurricane Dennis is past us even though its rainy "tail" is passing over us, me and my friends decided to celebrate at South Beach. My exquisite, yet cloudy evening began with a $35 all-expenses-included "Greek sampler" feast at Taverna Opa. Besides the usual dancing on the tables, throwing napkins, and smashing dishes, a highlight included a bizarre little waiter who insisted that the girls drink their ouzo on his lap. (An ouzo is a shot of an apparently Greek spirit which is best described as colorless Jägermeister.) Then what occurred is a sign that things will go to hell in the near future.

A classmate of mine brought a friend of his along, and the two of them decided to run through the "Ouzo List". For those of you who've been to Opa, on the wall at the back of the place hangs a sign that, just for fun, describes the effect of each subsequent ouzo that you down. From "The first ouzo brings you happiness." to "You better drink the tenth ouzo quickly because the police are coming!" In other words, the two of them are going to try to down TEN shots of ouzo!!

After six shots, my classmate was stumbling around piss-drunk and incessantly dropped cash when the time came for the check (I had no problem with that. He has a job and I don't!). His friend, after eight shots, was unusually well-composed. We left Opa and decided to take our chances getting into Privé, a really posh nightclub which is part of the Opium Garden complex, and is frequented by A-list celebs with the likes of Paris Hilton.

To prove that He has a cruel sense of humor, God decided to send in a sudden powerful storm surge just as we were walking to Privé. Now people usually make fun of me for carrying around a golf-sized umbrella. Not tonight. I made five new lady-friends under that umbrella when the powerful winds and heavy rain pounded in. The storm, in the end, actually did us a favor, as the small crowd that was building up at the entrance of Privé was scattered, and we actually made it in.

After drying ourselves out and tucking my sopping-wet umbrella under a sofa, we checked out the scene. Fortunately, it was hip-hop night, and the crowd reflected likewise. For a good visual definition of "bling", this homey seated at an alcove sported a diamond-studded cross, where even the chain was loaded with stones.

Then I turned around, and standing behind me, is Kaine from The Ying Yang Twins, parading around, what presumably is, his bitch du jour. (This celebrity sighting probably explains why I had a weird dream that night, where I went on a camping trip with Jack Nicholson. The guy gave me shit all the way.) Before I could gather up the balls to take a picture with him, my classmate's friend, whom I mentioned to be incredibly well-composed after downing eight ouzos, started puking all over the place. Then, he apparently went downstairs to Opium Garden and proceeded to puke some more before going missing. The bouncers weren't too happy, and after hanging around Opium Garden, we went back home.

I have no idea why my classmates always bring in the crazy people to our social functions. Last week, another classmate brought his brother with him on our trip to the beach at Key Biscayne. The guy was really cool, but he got so drunk that he ended up running around a mall without his shirt looking for a place to piss.

But that's another story.

Incoming Hurricane Vs. Suicidal Sheep

So I got kicked out of my business school building today because they're shutting it down due to the hurricane. Hurricane Dennis, the first hurricane to come close to Florida this year, is now a Category 4 (out of 5) storm. Even though it's not expected to pass through the Miami-Dade area, it has already trashed Cuba, perhaps giving refugees a helpful "push" to Florida.

Despite the unlikelihood that the hurricane will plow us, one of its "arms" has already carried strong wind and rain my way. So I'm starting to barricade myself in my apartment. Good thing I was too lazy to take the tape down from my windows last year (I'm the kind of annoying bastard that leaves the X-mas lights up all year). It's going to be a long summer.

As proof that the rest of the world is going to hell, some Turkish sheep got sick of life and decided to do a lemming impression. Correction: a LOT of sheep! Apparently, the lead sheep fell off and the most of the herd followed him. Out of approximately 1500 sheep that jumped, about 450 died. So why such a low casualty rate? Well, apparently, a pile of dead fluffy sheep is really good at cushioning falls. Some poor Turkish families are going to have to find something else to count when they go to sleep.

[Insert your own "If your friend jumps off a bridge..." moral about blindly following others.]

(Source)

125 Unexplained Mysteries of Science

Science magazine celebrated its 125th anniversary today, so in a gesture of scientific humility, presented 125 age-old questions still unanswered by science. Very interesting reading:

http://www.sciencemag.org/sciext/125th/

As for me, I'm more concerned with the more immediate scientific mysteries, such as, "Why the hell do hot dog sausages come in packs of 10, but hot dog buns come in packs of 12!?!?"

All-American Canada Day

I hope all you Canucks had fun celebrating the anniversary of a country whose economy is overtaken by China and getting bumped off the G-8. I celebrated Canada Day in an All-American fashion - guns and boobies.

Okay, now I have your attention. It wasn't exactly my plan to celebrate this way. It just so happens that a buddy of mine named Matt (his name will be important later on) in my Aikido club is moving out of Miami to go to freeze his ass off in Boston. Since he was the only other gun enthusiast other than our instructor, we decided to make one last outing to the gun range.

Trips to the gun range are always educational. The last time we went to a gun range, it was indoor and only handguns were allowed. Since the one we are going to is outdoor, Matt brought his AK-47 for everyone to enjoy, and my instructor brought his Glock 23. So this trip marked my first time firing an AK-47. As seen in the video below...

Sorry if you can't play the .wmv format, but I had to cut the movie short and fucking Bill Gates won't let me save to .mpg with the Movie Maker.

Don't make fun of me, everyone had to shoot sitting down.

After filling the hills full of lead, I came across a sign that provided a pretty good definition of America (notice the bullet holes)...

Afterwards, we pretended to go our separate ways, when in actuality we were throwing the saddest attempt at a surprise party. Matt figured something was up because we didn't agree on a cover story. And what is literally the icing on the cake, we did a half-assed job at getting Matt a farewell cake. In fact it was a cake that said "Happy Birthday Frances &", which would've said "Happy Birthday Frances & Doug", but part of it was eaten off, which was to be expected when you get a leftover cake from an office party at work. Now we call him Frances.

To wrap things up, me and the other boys took Matt to a strip club. Yes, this is the second time in a week for me. We ended up driving all over Miami looking for an 18+ establishment because a couple of our guys were under 21 (Hurry up and age, you breastfeeders!). We finally settled on this place called Thee Dollhouse, which is apparently part of a strip club chain.

Now as I mentioned before, I don't really like going to strip clubs. But at least this one had an interesting feature - a glass-paned shower in one corner of the room for "shower dances". Two girls take a real shower, except with shaving cream instead of soap, so they can lather up the glass with whatever anatomical protrusions they have. We sat next to it at the expense of the view of the center stage. Although shower dances were rare, every 2 hours, we would have the best seats in the house.

By enjoying the rights afforded by the 2nd Amendment of the American Constitution, and by patronizing a lascivious institution accomodating voyeuristic desires, I hope I have shown you what a true Canadian patriot I am.